Previous chapters: 1&2, 3, 4, 5
Priscilla's spiritual well being
Aunt Agatha was active in the life of St Michaels church in the village and was on good terms with the vicar – The Reverend Ashley Bonham Hart, who, like many of the St John Peters, had studied Philosophy at the University of Cambridge.
Aunt often attended Sunday services at St Michaels, but ever conscious of her duty to care for Priscilla’s spiritual wellbeing, she now decided that it would be more convenient to hold them in the small private chapel at Fairbourne Hall; consequently, she spoke to the vicar about that possibility. Seeing that Aunt Agatha was a regular church goer and benefactor to boot, the vicar informed her that he would be delighted to oblige.
The services would be held every Sunday in the chapel at Fairbourne Hall from 11 am to noon, the only stipulation being that the services should be open to any villager who cared to attend.
In appreciation, Aunt gave the vicar a generous donation to the St Michaels Missionary Fund.
On the following Sunday at 10:55 am, Aunt Agatha dressed in black, Priscilla in her impeccable uniform and bonnet, and Lizzy, Fred and Flo were sitting in the front pews awaiting the vicar’s arrival.
Also in attendance were Mr Culpepper the chemist, and his daughter Gwendoline, Mrs Vera Prime (the church organist, who was well past her prime), and two or three other regulars.
Vera would be playing the ancient organ and Clive had been chosen by Aunt to operate the hand bellows that were at one side of the ornate old organ.
It was a pleasant intimate service, with prayers, hymn singing and a sermon. At Aunt’s request the vicar gave an interesting sermon extolling the virtues of obedience and service – something that she thought very apt considering those in attendance.
He read from the bible, Romans 13:1-14.
“Let every person be subject to the governing authorities. For there is no authority except from God, and those that exist have been instituted by God. Therefore whoever resists the authorities resists what God has appointed, and those who resist will incur judgment. For rulers are not a terror to good conduct, but to bad. Would you have no fear of the one who is in authority? Then do what is good, and you will receive his approval, for he is God's servant for your good. But if you do wrong, be afraid, for he does not bear the sword in vain. For he is the servant of God, an avenger who carries out God's wrath on the wrongdoer. Therefore one must be in subjection, not only to avoid God's wrath but also for the sake of conscience.”
During the bible reading, Aunt Agatha nodded in agreement several times, elbowing Priscilla in the ribs, to indicate that she should pay attention to the vicar’s instructions.
After the sermon, at a nod from Vera, Clive started heaving and pushing the long bellows arms to inflate the organ’s old lungs. The organ groaned and wheezed as Vera started playing Priscilla’s favourite hymn – All Things Bright and Beautiful.
As instructed beforehand by Aunt, Priscilla held Lizzy’s hand and they sang sweetly, gently swaying side to side in time with the music – it was a sight for sore eyes; it was beautiful, and the vicar was very impressed, although Clive was sweating and panting heavily from the exertion.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4z5rtCrl_rg
When the service was finished, the vicar stood at the chapel door as everyone filed out. Aunt was first in the queue and the vicar thanked her for allowing him to give the service; Priscilla followed behind.
“Hello, young lady, I haven’t seen you before. What a sweet voice you have. Lovely, lovely.
Oh, but now I remember…Mr Culpepper mentioned your visit to his shop the other day; I do hope you are being treated for your little problem.” he smiled benevolently and winked.
“Thank you, vicar” said Priscilla softly, hoping nobody would hear.
Mr Culpepper, was next in line and he piped up “I hope they’ve solved your problem, Peters. Incontinence is often a psychological problem rather that a physiological one.” He was sure that his knowledge and wise words would help.
Priscilla wanted to die that very minute, but Aunt decided to throw a bucket of petrol onto the blazing fire.
Aunt turned back and addressed the chemist “Yes, Mr Culpepper, they’ve been a great help, haven’t they Peters?” and then continued “in fact she’s wearing a diaper and frilly cover at this very moment. I hope she didn’t leave a wet mark on the pew.”
“No, I’m sure you didn’t, did you, young miss,” rejoined the vicar pleasantly. “Would someone like to go back and check?”
Vera overheard the conversation and obligingly went to inspect the pew where Priscilla had been sitting. “No, everything’s dry” she called back.
The service was very uplifting, and the vicar was sure that everyone felt calm and at peace with God, and indeed they did…that is, everyone except Priscilla, of course…it was now noon: time for Punishment Hour.
All were present and correct for Punishment Hour, in fact Fred had already placed a chair facing the attendees. Despite Priscilla having wetted him last time, he hoped that he’d be chosen again to smack her bum, so he sat on the chair in anticipation.
But No. No such luck today.
Aunt thanked Fred for volunteering but told him it wouldn’t be necessary today, so he returned to his place next to Flo, rather disappointed.
Hoping that her forethought would be appreciated by Aunt, Priscilla had brought along The Tickler and offered it to Aunt.
“Thank you, Peters; your consideration is duly noted; I’m in a good mood today – your singing was beautiful and that will reduce your punishment by three strokes, however, I noticed that you failed to curtsy to the vicar, so I shall add those three back on. Just five strokes today. Clive, please come forward to apply the strokes.”
“No, I couldn’t. Not me, please miss. I really don’t think I’m up to it, Miss Agatha.” contested Clive.
Aunt was a little surprised by his reticence to apply The Tickler to Priscilla’s backside, but she acceded to his wish. “Very well, Clive; I shall do the honours then. Peters, adopt the position, drop your drawers, and raise your uniform.”
Priscilla’s anguish at having to suffer the cane was suddenly increased when she suddenly remembered that she was wearing a diaper. “Please, Madam Agatha, may I go to the toilet before receiving my punishment?”
“Whatever for, girl? No need for false modesty, Peters; we’ve all seen your derriere before, haven’t we?” Madam quipped.
Fred, Flo and Lizzy nodded in agreement.
There was no sense in begging or protesting, it would only increase Madam’s ire, so Priscilla pulled down her frilly pink diaper cover to her ankles, reached up under her dress, detached the diaper tabs and retrieved the (luckily clean and dry) diaper from under her dress, placed it on the floor and assumed the punishment position.
Fred had a ringside seat and was enjoying every minute of it.
Flo turned up her nose in disgust.
Clive dropped his gaze.
Madam drummed her fingers on the top of the chair impatiently.
Five smart strokes were applied to Priscilla’s hairless bum, and she squealed loudly with each swipe.
Fred had a satisfied look on his face.
Flo looked at Fred out the corner of her eye and noticed that he’d crossed his legs and covered his crotch with both hands.
From that day on, Priscilla stopped using diapers on a Sunday.
If the truth be known, Clive had resisted applying the punishment because he was looking forward to having Priscilla suck his cock that very afternoon, and thought that by participating in the punishment, he might ruin his chances.
He was correct in his calculation and received his weekly treat under the oak tree.