Thread: A Discussion of Theology (SnowGlassRoses)

Enough, Her Papas voice was soft, yet thunderous, like a great storm in Yvettes aching heartHis words sincerely pained by the events which would soon take place a grief his young daughter always seemed to forget in the midst of her childish panic. As he spoke, she bowed her head. She did not answer his questions, as they were not meant for a vocal responseThey were for her to reflect inwardly uponRhetorical questions which would provide the choir of her punishment. Yvettes eyes focused upon the beautiful rosary trapped between her palmsThe outline of the cross now pressing against her soft skinA symbol of forgiveness... Papa always forgave her... As he reached for her hand, she did not hesitate to take his...A quiet gesture of submission, of which she gently, needily, squeezed for reassurance. She could not speak...Her words lumped shamefully within her throat as she gazed upon him, looking so drained of that vigorous light that always seemed to surround him...Indeed, this act had taken place quite often as of lateMuch more than when she was a young child. It was taking a toll on her Papa... Arguably, her curiosity had grown..Her intrigue of broadening her knowledge treading far too close to the line of mischief than was proper for a young maiden.No doubt however, the surging hormones swirling about within her heart, beneath those supple, blossoming breasts,had more than just a little to do with her somewhat moredaring, nature, as of late..Swallowing lightly, a trembling exhale escaped her lips as she felt his hand sliding up from her hip, towards the small of her back. The lightest touch that earlier just that day had been so comforting, now proved far less innocent in its intentions Yvettes gown was by no means elaborate, though quite flattering upon her slender figure. The design itself was rather simple, though nevertheless an envious piece for many of the young maidens in the countryside. The closest they would ever get to the gown of a Princess, perhapsOn Sundays, Yvette quite enjoyed fancying up for her Papa and her UnclesTo hear their praise was not feeding so much to vanity, as it was to a much more nave desire of a young girl wanting to be pretty. On occasions though, Uncle Porthos would be far too explicit in his compliments, and Papa had quite the growl to his voice when chastising him The bodice of the gown was lined with a simple trimming of golden threaded lace, hugging tightly to her breasts so that they were pressed together and upwards, resulting in a most alluring cleavage..The brocade was of a silken texture, dyed a deep hunter green which seemed to shift to a deep golden color depending upon the light. The stomacher had a lovely pattern of ivy vines and fleur-de-lis cascading across.. The sleeves ended on the curve of her elbow, lined with a gathering of lace which extended only a few inches further down her arm. Had she chosen to wear a farthingale beneath her gown, than her skirts would have no doubt flung up above her head the moment she laid across her Papas lap! However, having a severe distaste for such torturous inventions of false fashion, Yvette had worn only her petticoats that day as well as a modest stays of course. As she laid herself over Papas lap, she pressed one palm against the floor to steady herself, placing her body in the most comfortable way permissible for such a position. Once steady, she felt him shiftThe hems of her skirts grasped, Yvette clutched tightly to her rosary. He had no need to remind her of its presence..The moment her skirts began being folded upward, Yvette had begun praying..Softly, almost inaudibly, but her lips still moved as her fingers caressed her prayer beads.. O Lord, Jesus Christ, Redeemer and Savior, forgive my sins, just as You forgave Peter's denial and those who crucified You The skirts had been laid upon her back, Papas hand now upon the band of her undergarments.. C-Count not my transgressions, but, rather, my tears of repentance. Remember not my- The first strike caused a most innocent shriek to interrupt her prayers..Her lips quivering agape for a moment, as she stammered upon her words.. Not..Not my iniquities, but, more especially, my sorrow for the offenses I have committed against You. The second strike she was somewhat more prepared for, though her toes curled within her black laced shoes, her ankles crossing over one another as she slightly wriggled upon his lap. II long to be true to Your Word, and pray that You will love me and come to make Your dwelling place within me.. The third caused Yvettes entire body to curl against her Papas legs..Her head bowed as she bit down harshly upon her lip, her knees jutting forward, nearly tucking beneath the chairHer hands, trembling, clutching the rosary upwards above her head. The tears that had threatened to spill, now flowed freely down flushed, pink cheeks..As she spoke the final verse of prayer, her quivering voice was slightly more audible I promise to give You praise and glory in love, and in service, all the days of my life