Fortunately, my Baptist preacher father, who taught that corporal punishment a
was theologically important and even required by God, was too soft hearted to actually beat us children.

But I was beaten several times at my private Baptist School, age 10, alone in a windowless room with a strong man, with my pants pulled down and him swinging a wooden paddle with holes drilled in it for all he was worth. I would come out of those beatings with purple bruises on my ass that matched the holes on that paddle.

He would explain to me that God wanted him to do that, and that he was beating me out of love for God and for me. For a while, I accepted that with a sort of Stockholm Syndrome acceptance. Later, I realized that my teacher was evil and sadistic, like Christianity itself is evil and sadistic.