I do not know who wields the crop. I cannot stay quiet any longer. I start to grunt with each stroke of the crop. They move further down my back. Now ...hey strike the top of my thighs, below my butt. They are sparing my butt, for something worse, I fear. With each strike I gasp. Sweat flies from my face as I struggle to maintain control. Then, a pause, that becomes longer. They've stopped.Simon gives me a glass of cold water. "You did well" he says "Do not bother to hold off on screaming. It. Our church was built the year I was born. It’s supposed to feel like a Gothic cathedral, except without the buttresses. It’s shaped like a cross, with a high vault in the middle and stained-glass windows on every side depicting scenes from the life of Jesus, and the Virgin Mary, and a bunch of saints I could never identify. Today the sun was out, and walking down the middle aisle was like walking through a giant kaleidoscope. It can make you think heaven is real.The confessionals are underneath. More

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