Joan of Snark Ch. 07

"How long do I have to stay like this?"

"For as long as I feel like. But it'll be alot longer if you keep whining."

Joan inwardly shuddered. She could not understand how she found herself in such a predicament. How on earth could a priest commit such a disgusting act with a thing that was supposed to be so holy?

And how could he spank her and humiliate her the way he did? Priests were suppose to listen to confessions, assign penance and give spiritual advice. They were not supposed to dole out abusive corporeal punishments. Joan was quickly beginning to realize that Father Ben was not the cool liberal priest who she had originally took him for. There was a much darker side to the young attractive cleric.

She was not sure how much time had passed. But the mortifying situation she was in made the minutes and seconds feel agonizingly long. Finally Father Ben spoke. "So Miss Hubert, are you ever going to insult Lil again?"

"No," Joan responded through gritted teeth.

"And are you going to disobey me again?"

"No."

"When I ask to to be quiet, will you stop talking?"

"Yes."

"All right Miss Hubert, I think you've learned your lesson. You may pull your skirt back down and turn around."

Joan quickly covered her rear and turned back to face Father Ben. She took a deep breath. Trying to sound as polite as possible, she said, "Father, now will you take it out, please?"

"What?" he absentmindedly asked.

Joan scowled at him.

"Oh, you mean the rosary?" he said as if he had just remembered. "You want me to pull the rosary out of your sore little bum?"

"Yes please, Father."

"You know what I think would be best?" he smiled. "Why don't you pull the rosary out yourself after you get home."

"What?!" Joan exclaimed.

"I think it would do you some good to keep it up your ass during your walk home. It'll be a constant reminder to you about your behavior tonight. It'll force you to think about the consequences of your actions this evening."

Joan could not believe her ears. "But Father ..."

"It will make you consider your future behavior more carefully. I expect to see a much more respectful attitude from you from now on. Alright?"

Joan was silent as she stared at the priest with wide eyes and her mouth agape. She could not believe that he a going to make her walk home with rosary beads up her backside.

"Okay, I think we're done here for tonight. You may go," he dismissed her. He did not bother to return her panties. And Joan did not feel up to asking for them back.

Naked under her skirt, Joan began to make her way toward the door. She took awkward steps as the beads uncomfortably shifted around in her back passage. Father Ben could not stifle his laughter as he watched her toddle across the living room.

Snickering he said, "I hope you've learned your lesson, Miss Hubert. I'm suspect that things will go much more smoothly the next time you work here."

Joan reached for the door knob of the front entrance. However, as she listened to Father Ben's words and his sniggering, she let go of the door handle and furiously spun around. "There won't be a 'next time!'" she yelled at him.

"What are you talking about?" He did not sound overly concerned.

"I fucking quit!" she hollered at him. Joan flung the door wide open. It hit the wall of the front hallway with a loud SMACK! She stormed out onto the veranda, stomping on the dark stained wooden planks. With all of her strength, she slammed the front door shut. The entire door frame seemed to rattle. The sound echoed throughout the quiet darkened neighborhood.

Joan was seething with rage. However, she was caught off guard by a chorus of loud raspy caws coming from across the veranda. She turned to see not one, but four crows perched on the railing. Joan immediately backed up against the door. She looked over with fright at the group of black birds. They continued to squawk and click and call out at her. But they remained on the wooden railing. Keeping an eye on the menacing winged creatures, she slowly and carefully made her way down the steps of the veranda.

What was a group of crows called, Joan tried to recall. A murder? Was that it? Yes, that was it. A murder of crows. A murder - that's what I'd love to do to Father Ben, Joan thought to herself.

The walk home was significantly slower than normal. No matter how hard she tried, Joan could not ignore the rosary beads lodged in her rear orifice. If she tried to move any quicker, they would press painfully against the ultra sensitive membrane of rectum. So Joan was unfortunately forced to amble along at a painfully slow pace.

Even though she had just quit her part-time job, Joan did not think she could get out of attending Sunday mass. Her mother was far too strict and devout. And Joan had no choice but to follow her mother's rules. At least while she still lived at home. After what the young clergyman had just done to her, Joan did not know how she could sit in a church pew and watch Father Ben preside over mass on Sunday morning. How would she be able to look him in the face? How could she accept communion from him? Joan was not sure how she could avoid Sunday mass. But she swore to herself that she would never step foot in the rectory ever again.