by Sable Drake
As usual, a lot of the girls went to the tuck shop at break, but this was denied to me since a girl can neither eat nor drink with a rod of scrap iron locked into her mouth. I was hungry and thirsty and was a little worried about what was going to happen at lunchtime.
Break was a very lonely time. I could not speak to my friends and none of them wanted to be with me for fear of incurring Reverend Mother's wrath for associating with such a sinner as myself. The end of break was a relief in the sense of ending my time alone, resting against a wall and watching all the other girls enjoy themselves, but it also meant another ordeal. The whole period from break to lunch was a gym lesson, and gym was taught by the very same Sister Fortitude whose sexual leanings I had slandered.
Sister Fortitude was younger than most of the other nuns, and she normally wore a navy tracksuit instead of a nun's habit, although she did keep her head covered in a black scarf. I had been having dark thoughts about the young nun during break, because I realised that Sister Fortitude always supervised us in the changing room and showers. In my girlish naiveté, I had always assumed that she did this to ensure we did not transgress the rules. But now, for the first time, it occurred to me to wonder why she spent so much time among naked and half naked schoolgirls. I was very nervous about how she would treat the girl who had spread gossip about her.
Everyone else in the class trooped into the changing rooms, but Fortitude stood at the changing room door and ordered me to follow her into the gymnasium while the other girls changed. I would undoubtedly spend the whole lesson in the same humiliating nudity as I had spent the rest of the morning.
There was a distinctly unpleasant tilt at the corner of Fortitude's mouth as she told me that I would spend the time waiting for the other girls to change by warming up. Then, she began barking orders for me to do star jumps, running on the spot, and sit ups. I was very aware of how my little boobs bounced, and how much I showed of my most intimate parts as I did my exercise, the padlock on the front of my bridle rattling. I was sure that Fortitude was really enjoying my discomfort. As I was bouncing about with my skin scarlet and running in perspiration, girls began to drift in from changing. They just stood and watched while making little remarks among themselves.
When the formal lesson began, Fortitude had the whole group doing exercises such as star jumps and sit ups. Then, we moved on to mat work and vaulting over the box. She kept us working at full speed and, whenever I went over the horse, she made sure she was nearby to grab my bare body and give me an extra push as I grunted into my steel gag. I was very aware of how damp I was down there. In fact, to my horror, I knew that little droplets of moisture were forming between my legs for all to see.
In short, it was nothing more than ninety minutes of pure torture. I am fairly sure the other girls were totally oblivious to the sexual overtones between Fortitude and myself. Twice I lay on the floor panting and feeling I could not move a muscle, and she stood over me blowing her whistle and berating me until I stood up to face even more mistreatment.
When the bell rang for lunch, the other girls went to change. Fortitude ordered me to go to the refectory to report to Reverend Mother. I was not happy about this at all, though what could I do but obey?
As soon as I entered the refectory, Reverend Mother grabbed my forearm in a painful grip causing my face inside its little cage to frown. With the few girls who were early to lunch watching, she dragged me to a place behind the foremost table where a heating pipe ran down the wall, and she threaded a length of string around the pipe and around the front of the bridle so that my head was tied to the pipe. Then she left me. I was bound there, my naked bottom displayed to the whole room with my face toward the wall.
I stood there for the whole of lunch, and I am ashamed to say that I could not keep my hands from going to the tender area between my legs. I told myself that, as my back was to the room, no-one could see what I was doing. I realise now that I was fooling myself. I was hopping from foot to foot and my breathing was irregular and accompanied by little moans and gasps as my questing fingers rubbed with increasing vigour and became wet with my juices. And I could scarcely believe I was doing all of this a few feet from the staff dining table with the whole school watching. My mind was so controlled by treacherous forces that it had no will of my own. I was unable to comprehend what I was doing. Now, however, it seems that my morning of bitter humiliation had triggered something deep within me, and my sexual being—so long repressed—had finally awakened with fury.
Lunch finished and the school filed onto the playground to spend the remainder of the hour socializing, leaving me still tied to my pipe with my mouth dry and my stomach rumbling. Sister Fortitude came to me and, without warning, her hand landed in a powerful slap across my buttocks. I yelped, a strangled sound through the mask. Two more stingers landed. I hopped vigorously from foot to foot, although there was no escape. She then put her head very close to the ironwork and whispered.
"That was for the disgusting display which you were giving during lunch. Everyone knew exactly what you were doing." In her normal voice, she continued, "Now it is time for the little animal to be fed."
She cut the string binding me to the pipe then reached between the bars around my caged head and gripped my ear. She used it a handle to drag me from the room, along the corridor, and into the yard where my classmates were milling around. I was led to the back door of the kitchen where the pig bin, containing the scraps from everyone's meal had been tipped into an earthenware trough. Producing a key from her pocket, Fortitude unlocked the horrible bridle and pressed down on my shoulders so that I was kneeling at the trough. Then she grabbed a hank of my hair and pressed my face into the trough with its mixture of cold soup, squashed vegetables, and rice pudding.
My bottom was in the air and I knew that the fleshy lips between my legs were on view as I lapped up the cold mixture with my hair falling over my face and into the trough. Fortitude stood over me as I ate with a little ring of girls standing around at a safe distance to enjoy the show. When Fortitude felt I had eaten sufficiently, my hair was grabbed, and I was painfully hauled to my feet. My face, hair, and even my chest were covered in bits of food. She dragged me to an outside tap which she turned on full blast and forced my head under the freezing flow. Then, she picked up a rag and began to vigorously rub my breasts. To the watching, giggling girls she appeared to be just washing me, but both Fortitude and I knew exactly what was being done to my tender nipples which were now standing to attention and throbbing very uncomfortably.
After what seemed a very long time, I was hauled to my feet and turned around with my soaking hair sticking to my face and cold water running down my naked body. I beheld the huge, black-clad bulk of Father Worthy, who must have been standing there while I was being washed. I tried to shrink from the forbidding man. Could he have been there when I was face down in the trough showing my most secret part? I desperately hoped that he had not witnessed my debasement, but I suspected he had seen everything.
I had expected to have to go to lessons all day in my nakedness before being taken to the annex, but it seemed that he had come for me now. The horror of the morning had taken me beyond my limits, and now it felt as if the devil himself had come to take over my torment. I just could not face any more. I hugged Sister Fortitude with my face pressed to her bosom, and I begged her in floods of hysterical tears not to let him take me. His huge hand closed over my forearm, and I saw the big emerald ring which he always wore. For some reason my eyes locked on the ring, and I noticed that the jewel had been swung to one side exposing a tiny silver needle. He lifted his hand from my arm, and I felt a scratch on the back of my hand.
There was a whooshing sound in my ears, and I sank to my knees. I was shrinking, and a horrible black cloud was gathering around me. There was a collage of faces looking down at me. They were moving their lips, but I could not hear what they were saying. My body was weightless, and I was falling into a deep, dark pit.
Even in my
unconsciousness, I was not to be allowed any rest. My dreams were filled with my most shameful fantasies. I saw myself naked and stretched over Mr Turner's desk with him taking me by force. Then, seamlessly, I was on my bed in the dorm with my legs splayed wide as every girl in the dorm took turns playing with my sensitive flesh. I had long had a secret crush on Alycia, who slept in my dorm and had huge rounded breasts, and now I saw myself caressing her naked breasts while Reverend Mother stood by with her cane ready to punish me for what I was doing.
After what seemed an eternity of the most arousing and debasing visions, I found myself floating. I felt a gentle stroking between my legs. I opened my eyes to discover Sister Fortitude sitting on the bed beside me and stroking my most private and tingly part. For a while, I thought this yet another fantasy, but then I looked around and saw that I was on a narrow wooden bed in a bare stone room which had an iron grille instead of a door. I knew that I was in the dreaded annex.
Fortitude spoke. "I have come to help Father Worthy. Sister Patience is taking my gym class."
With one hand she continued her lovely gentle stroking and with the other she unzipped the front of her tracksuit top to allow her neat white breasts to spill into view. She was smiling and making soothing sounds as her working between my legs increased in vigour. Her naughty fingers began to dip between my secret lips aided by the lubrication of the increasing moisture I supplied.
My body began to writhe and deep sighs issued from my throat. Fortitude leaned down to me and her free hand caressed my tender breast. Automatically my hands came up to return the gesture, and I felt the smooth warmth of her flesh. Then, our actions choreographed by ancient instincts, our lips met and I felt her tongue exploring my mouth and slipping around my own.
Our bodies were entwined now, and she had pushed down her trousers and stripped off her most uncharacteristic tiny purple panties. My slender fingers ran through her thick pubic hair and found her intimate depths where her muscles gripped my hand as if they would never let it go. I have no idea of how long we coupled and the cell filled with our gasps and moans, but it caused me to slip into a deep sleep.
I awoke to find Fortitude sitting beside me gently stroking my hair. She was back in her navy tracksuit but I enjoyed a thrill at the knowledge that she was almost certainly completely naked beneath her one layer of clothing. I looked up and beheld the frightening form of Sister Penitence standing behind Fortitude. Penitence was the ugliest woman I had ever seen; her face was wrinkled and dominated by her huge nose, and she was big. I don't mean that she was fat, but she was thick set, like a man, and abnormally tall. She was in her full nun's habit. The combined presence of Fortitude—who had so recently made love to me—and Penitence—who had a fearsome reputation—had a very unbalancing effect upon me.
Fortitude spoke quietly and gently as she explained that I had a dark seed of evil deep within me. "You enjoyed what we did didn't you?"
I confessed that I had very much enjoyed it. There was no point, at this stage, to deny it. Fortitude said that my dark needs had to be given vent at times, but I had to learn that pleasure must always be balanced with punishment in order for my soul could be cleansed. She told me that I now had to go with Sister Penitence, and I had to obey her for my own good. Fortitude stood and moved to one side so that Penitence could advance upon me;.
The beastly woman grabbed my hair and yanked me off the bed. She held my hair at about level with her own waist so that I was obliged to walk while bent double with a searing pain in my head as I felt she was pulling my hair out by the roots.
We went out through the grille and into the next room, which was lit by a single, naked bulb hanging from the ceiling. It was a large room with peeling plaster and bare floorboards. I was vaguely aware of sundry items dumped around the room as if it were a junk room. An old mattress lay in one corner, but at the centre of the room was a large oblong table. The top of it was a thick dark plank of old wood. Ugly black painted slabs of wood rested against the side of the table, and I noticed a line of metal fitments near to either end of the table top.
Penitence released my hair and ordered me to lay face down on the table. Alone, naked and vulnerable, with this monster left me no alternative. I could not refuse to obey. I climbed onto the hard table. She told me to place my wrists on top of the metal fixings to either side of my neck. Then, she lifted one of the wooden stocks from the floor and fitted it over my neck and wrists, bolting it in place.
She then buckled my wrists into thick leather cuffs. All I could do was to look straight ahead, and my vision was filled by a bucket of water which stood on the floor with two long birch rods protruding from it.
My jailor moved out of my sight, and I felt her locking the other stock over my ankles and strapping leather cuffs around them to fix them in place. My legs were held very wide apart. She moved back into view carrying a tin beaker which she placed to my lips. I sloppily gulped the water.
I was very thirsty and also hungry, as I had consumed nothing but what I could lap up from the slop trough at lunchtime. However, I knew that naughty girls did not deserve to be fed. Without a word, Penitence left me alone. I heard her locking the door as she departed.
I was in great discomfort, my tender nipples pressing into the table and my limbs being held fast in such an unnatural position. I found that it was best if I lay with my head on one side, but that kept those two birch rods in plain view. My stomach was roiling, and I felt acid in my throat. I was also increasingly cold. Apart from the physical discomfort, which was very great, I was being tortured by my own thoughts.
Since breakfast this morning–Was it still even the same day?–I had been subjected to terrible humiliation and abuse. I had no idea what lay ahead, although the presence of the birch rods was an ominous clue. I knew they could do whatever they liked to me in this terrible place, and I was tormented by the fear that I could become one of those girls who went to the annex and never returned.
It seemed I lay there moving my head from one side to the other for hours, wriggling my limbs as much as I could. My heart nearly stopped when I heard the door unlocked then relocked. The huge bulk of Father Worthy appeared before me. He looked down at me as if I were the most disgusting creature he had ever beheld, then he grinned wickedly and moved out of my vision. I heard him turning a handle beneath the table. To my horror, the table shifted so that my buttocks rose while my head and feet dropped. This pulled my body taught in the stocks, so I was now held very firmly with the restraints biting into my ankles, neck and wrists.
He circled in front of me and slowly removed one of the rods from the bucket ,flexing it in his hands as the water dripped from it. I wanted to beg for mercy, but I found that my voice did not work.
Behind me, hidden from my view, I heard the whoosh in the air at exactly the same moment as the rod landed searing agony across my bottom. I screamed as if my lungs would burst. He had only struck once, and I was sure I could stand no more. The second stroke landed almost immediately. I was fighting against the stocks, but could not move an inch. He had an easy and unprotected target held firmly in place for his torture.
It needs to be understood that being birched bears no relation at all to feeling the cane. None whatsoever. I wanted to lose consciousness, but that did not happen. All I could do was to lie there as he struck me again and again. I felt my warm blood run down my buttocks and between my legs. All rational thought had ended.
Mixed with my blood, to my abject horror, was the evidence of my arousal. Through this hideous pain, my body betrayed its desire. I knew that pain followed pleasure, and I knew that the cycle would begin again… and again. I wanted only relief from the burning, both inside and out.
There came a point when I realised that I was no longer being struck. I lay on the table gasping for air and sobbing as if I would never stop. I was only dimly aware that Father was releasing me from my cruel imprisonment and carrying me as if I had no weight at all to the mattress on the floor.
A
s he stood looking down at my pathetic, naked body, he appeared like a vampire, a huge black shape looming over me. He lifted his robe, and I beheld his staff. It both thrilled and terrified me. Wretched as I was, I wanted it. I wanted to touch it, to taste it, and—as horrifying as it seemed—to feel it split me.
All his weight descended upon me as if to squeeze the life from my body. My legs were forced wide apart as if he wanted to tear me asunder like pulling a wishbone. I screamed, although I don't know from pain or ecstasy.
The world seemed to be full of his loud voice, but then I ceased to be aware of anything outside of myself. My whole consciousness was consumed by the tearing agony deep within my belly. It seemed my whole lower body was being stuffed with something much larger than the space available. I saw in my mind's eye a picture of myself with the whole front of my body torn open and my innards bursting out like the stuffing from an old teddy bear.
Blood from my maidenhead mingled with my juices, only partially easing the passage of his rod. He bounced about on top of me, rancid breath in my face, sweat dripping from his jowls. My mind was repulsed, but my nethers wept their tears of joy. He crushed me into the damp mattress, grunting like a pig, his saliva soaking my hair and my face.
To my shame, I climaxed—not once, but twice—before he raised himself from me and yanked my face to his groin.
The whole world was obliterated by a revolting fat cylinder, dripping with my blood and arousal, moving toward my mouth. The smell of his rutting filled my nostrils, and I choked as my mouth and throat were filled with solid flesh. I couldn't breathe. I was convinced that this would be my death, and I found that I yearned for the final peace.
I have no memory at all of the ending of his assault, and I am haunted by the fact that I do not know what he did to me during the period when I had ceased to be aware. All I know is that at some point Fortitude was there. She was naked and lying on the mattress beside, me bathing my face. I turned to her and buried my face in her breasts. All I could do was to sob and sob. She held me until my cries subsided, then gently bathed my body.