Punished at St Sade's Ch. 02

The Second Bite

Fortitude was actually a very moral person. I had been at St Sade's for a long time before she introduced me to her special kind of love and then it was only after I had been sent to the annex to do penance for falling foul of Reverend Mother's strict rules.

After I served my penance and returned to the main school Fortitude and myself had to keep seeing each other but, of course, this was very dangerous for both of us and we had to be extremely careful. Sometimes she would summon me to her office on some pretext and we would make love behind the locked door or, on other occasions, we would sneak separately into the sports pavilion where Fortitude would lock us in and we would lie in each other's arms on cushions on the floor. It was during these times that our conversation would nearly always find its way to the paradox of pain and pleasure and to the essential balance between sin and punishment.

During my ordeal in the annex at the merciless hands of Father Worthy and his acolyte, Sister Penitence, I had been awakened to the inbuilt kink in my nature which dreaded being hurt but also craved the cleansing power of pain. Fortitude and myself were kindred spirits in that she had learned many years ago to need pain and I greatly admired her powers of endurance. At Sade's hardly anything is allowed to remain secret (which made our meetings all the more frightening) and Father Worthy and Reverend Mother were very well aware of the deep flaw within Sister Fortitude. For this reason she herself was obliged to make regular visits to the terrible annex to be subjected to a level of pain and humiliation which I found it hard to contemplate.

While I had been imprisoned in the annex I had witnessed my dearest Fortitude enduring her penance and seen her body twisting and writhing as she absorbed the penalty for her sins and the sight had repelled me but at the same time I just could not forget it. I could not rid myself of that perverted curiosity. What would it be like?

The human mind is infinitely complex and I believe that no mind is able to frame rational sentences to describe its own profound workings but somehow the image of Fortitude bearing her suffering had become bound up with our secret forbidden love for each other. This was what I was trying to put into words as the shadows on our naked flesh deepened that evening as we lay beside each other with the perspiration shining on our bodies. Could I endure pain to prove my love for Dearest Fortitude, could that noble act deepen the bond which we had and oh what heights of ecstasy we would reach when I returned to her arms for her to sooth my scars after I had born my just punishment.

Fortitude understood my deep need for cleansing pain as she knew well the deep guilt which we both carried and she knew that only real penance could balance on the scales the forbidden joys which we shared. However there was genuine concern in her voice as she whispered to me with her tender lips brushing my ears.

"What you are suggesting is very noble Sweet Tara but I hope you understand that the penance would have to be real. This could not be a sort of game or act. You must realise that if you did this thing you would have to subject yourself to Father Worthy and you would be in his hands until he was satisfied. Once in the annex you would have no way of escape and you would have to bear whatever he wrought upon you."

The mention of that huge man and his merciless, cruel hands made me shudder but I was determined that my courage should not fail. Oh how naive we are at eighteen. Fortitude hugged me and told me that she was proud of my courage and determination and would write a note to Father Worthy which would cause him to treat me very severely. Later that week she called me to her office and showed me what she had written about me. I sat before her desk reading her neat handwriting and I don't remember all of the content but various phrases stuck in my mind.

"Prurient mind....unnatural interest in other girls...moral weakness..lax in modesty."

I swallowed hard as I knew that once she had delivered her note the whole ghastly scenario would begin to roll forward and no-one would be able to stop it. We both knew how Father Worthy would react to the note but I needed this; I craved it. I could not look at Sister Fortitude as I passed the note back across her desk and sealed my fate.

That very same week I came out of my final lesson on Friday afternoon and found Fortitude standing in the corridor waiting for me. The other girls went on their way before Fortitude spoke.

"I have come to take you to the annex."

We walked in silence down the stone flagged passageway to the East Wing and then we were in front of that arched oak door and Fortitude told me to pull the little chain which would ring the bell and summon my nemesis. She kissed the top of my head and then we heard the door unlocked and the huge form of Father Worthy stood before us in his black cassock and shiny black shoes. His eyes started at the top of my head and slowly moved down my uniformed body; I could not see his mouth watering but I knew that it was. For some reason my attention fixed on his huge hands which seemed to be the size of dinner plates as he spoke.

"I will take it from here, Sister Fortitude. Come inside child."

I walked forward and he closed the door behind me cutting off all hope of escape. We were now in a sparsely furnished room with oak panels on the walls. Worthy sat on a wooden chair and spoke quietly and menacingly in a monologue which briefly covered my fallen state and the need to come through punishment for my own good. He said that he would help me but I had to place myself in his hands; he finished by telling me to undress.

There were strict rules about undressing in the dorm and changing for gym in a way which reduced the risk of other girls seeing one's body but now I was standing defenceless just three feet in front of a red faced man who would watch my every move. Of course I had undressed for Sister Fortitude and enjoyed her undressing me but that was very different. There was no point in my arguing or resisting; if I did so I knew he would simply hold me down with one hand while the other tore the clothing from me.

I felt a little bit sick as I unbuttoned my cardigan, stripped it off and placed it on the polished table then removed my tie and put that with the cardigan.

"Your skirt next."

Not wishing to reach behind which would cause my small breasts to jut out I slipped my skirt around so that the zip was at the front and I unfastened it then bent to slide it down and pull it off. My face was burning as I was very aware of now displaying my white school pants as I folded my grey skirt on the table. I bent down to remove my regulation black shoes and bright white socks leaving my bare feet on the dark wood floor. Then I just had to stand facing him as I unbuttoned my blouse exposing my skin and my small white brassier which, of course, was also school issue. I felt my brown shoulder length hair tickling my neck and knew that I had come to the point of having to remove my underwear and expose those parts of my body which I had been taught to keep hidden from everyone. It may sound like a cliché but my lip did really turn inwards as, like a robot, I unclasped my bra, slipped the straps from my arms and felt cold air on my nipples which were tingling and, against my will, beginning to swell. Of course the man would not fail to notice that detail and I was sure that he would take it as further confirmation of my immorality and an excuse to punish me even more.

I placed one arm across my breasts but then realised that this would make removing my knickers very awkward so I put both hands to the sides of my most intimate garment and slid it downwards. As I did so the thought came to me that even this "most intimate" little garment was not intimate to me at all for it was school issue. They even controlled our underwear and at "the time of the month" we had to go to School Stores and request "School Ones" to absorb our issue of blood. Perhaps my mind was deliberately wandering to deflect itself from the horrific situation but I found myself thinking that in this environment which set such store by modesty and privacy we had no privacy at all and the nuns even knew when we menstruated.

So there I stood with him just three feet in front of me looking like a boy at a sweet shop window. I was standing with my eyes downcast and my feet together. My pathetic little 34A boobs ran straight down to the red nipples and then had a little curve underneath. My tummy was fairly flat and my dark pubic fuzz was a perfect triangle which pointed downwards like an arrow directing attention to the puffy lips between my thighs. I knew the dark fuzz contrasted obscenely with my white skin.

Worthy grabbed my upper arm so that his fingers dug in making me whine and he dragged me out into the passageway. We went along the corridor then he opened a door and led me down cold stone steps into the musty smelling basement which was lit by a few orange bulbs. We went into a room of whitewashed brick. It had a stone floor and I did not really take in much of the room because all my attention fell upon the contraption to which he pulled me at one end of the room. I was shivering from the cold and probably also in fear.

I was facing what looked like a huge wooden cotton reel obviously made of very old wood. It was fixed to a small wooden platform and at each corner the platform had sturdy iron rings with lengths of rope nearby. He backed my unresisting form against the wooden reel and, as I lay back against the curved surface he bound my ankles to the iron rings so that my legs were wide apart. The physical discomfort of this position was exceeded by the feeling of exposure and vulnerability as well as the growing fear as I tried not to think about what he was going to do to me. My tormentor then moved behind me and dragged my arms backwards so that I was lying over the wooden reel with my spine arched backwards and my face staring upside down at the wall behind me. My wrists were tied to the rings at the rear of the platform.

He moved out of my very limited field of vision and there seemed to be a very long time as I waited in terrible tension feeling the wood against my back and buttocks. Then his hands descended onto my belly and he began to explore my naked body. I was still staring at the wall and unable to see what was happening but I could feel his hot, rough hands roving all over my skin. He stroked my stomach, my thighs and my breasts including my very sensitive nipples which he squeezed forcing a yelp from my lips.

Then both his hands began to concentrate on my pubic lips stroking and rubbing with increasing pressure. Of course I could not suppress the little groans deep in my throat nor could I keep my body from writhing under his attentions but the ropes ensured that my writhing was confined to flexing and unflexing my muscles. Actual movement was denied me.

His questing fingers began to dip into my pussy (I learned that word from Fortitude) and I felt myself moisten. My body almost exploded when he found my clitty and began to massage and tease it. I felt that my own body was betraying me as I had no wish to respond to this horrible man but I had no choice. I fought to keep my orgiastic moans inside me but he was skilful at playing with a young girl's body and there was nothing which I could do to control myself. Eventually the scream of defeat and intense unwanted pleasure escaped my lips and echoed around the chamber as I screamed for him to stop but he kept working at me bringing me again and again past the point of no return. My heart was pounding and my breasts were rising and falling at a dangerous rate as my skin shone with my perspiration and I howled and howled throwing my head in all directions with my now sweat soaked hair sticking to my face.

When he stopped it took a while for the storm to subside and then I was lying there panting and feeling very cold due to the moisture covering my skin. Just as I began to slip into some sort of peace I felt a sharp pain between my legs and realised that he had struck me with something. My vision was still limited to the wall behind me so I had no warning when the second stroke landed once again on my labia dragging a howl from me.

He moved to where I could see him and I saw the riding crop with its brown leather strap wound around his hand and the leather plaited around the wooden shaft. He raised the weapon again and I tried to shy away but my bonds held me so he hit his target which was my left breast. The blows kept coming at random raining down on my breasts, my belly and my pussy. When I was almost insensible he threw away the crop and I felt his now bare legs touching the inside of my thighs then his weight was coming down on my sore belly and his organ was pressing at my intimate opening. I was not a virgin, he had seen to that on my last visit, but I was still quite tight and he forced his way in as the torture chamber echoed to his repeated primeval grunts and my shouts of protest and pain. All I could do was remain there bound backwards over the curved timber as he took me again and again and shot his hot fluid into my innards and over my belly and pubic hair where it congealed as a horrible stinking, sticky stain.

I was dimly aware of his untying my wrists and ankles then he threw me forwards over the barrel and used his hands to spread my legs. My head was now hanging down near to the floor with my hair covering my eyes and I experienced unspeakable horror as I felt pressure against my anus. I had no idea that a man could push his member into that tight aperture and even less idea that any man would wish to do so but I felt his erect member forcing its way in with all his body mass behind it. I felt a deep tearing sensation as he forced entry but the real pain was the psychological one. To be used in that obscene, perverse way while I just had to remain there and take it was the worst humiliation which I had ever endured. When he pulled away from me I slid to the floor and curled up into a shaking, weeping little ball of used up flesh.

But he was not done with me yet. Hands reached down to me and dragged me across the floor to a small cage which squatted on the floor. The bars were black mesh and he laid me on my back on the cold stone. As I looked up at him towering over me I saw that his cassock was now back in place. He reached down to me and I did not realise that he was holding a steel clip until I felt the agonising pain in my left nipple. To readers of bondage magazines nipple clips are routine but I promise you that in reality they are anything but routine. A woman's nipples have a lot of nerve endings and she holds within her breasts the very centre of what makes her feminine so an attack at that point goes right to the heart of her identity as a woman. My hands automatically came up to remove the clip but he easily swept them aside and knelt on my arms as he fitted the second nerve shredding clip to my other nipple.

I could not stop screaming as he held my left wrist against my right ankle and began to bind them together then my left ankle was tightly tied to the right wrist. He pushed me backwards into the cage which was about a three foot cube although my feet still rested outside the cage.

He took from his pocket a slim silver chain with hooks on the ends and, to my horror, clipped one end to my left nipple clip and the other end to the rope around my ankle. This pulled on my nipple and I bent forward to ease the pressure. As I did so he clipped a similar chain between my right nip and my ankle then he forced my legs backwards into the cage so that my knees were under my chin and he clanged the door shut securing it with a padlock.

I was so immersed in my predicament that I did not actually see him leave the room. By bending forward I could prevent the chains from tugging on my tender nipples but that caused sharp pains to run up my back. My other option was to raise my feet off the floor and pull them up towards my chest as I rocked back on my bottom but that position strained the muscles at the back of my knees. In the hours which followed I would switch many times between these three positions but every position had one thing in common with the others and that was that it left me in agonising pain. Of course all the pain being heaped upon the outside of my body was only the melody of my suffering which overlay the deep theme of internal pain from Worthy's assaults upon my private openings.

I moaned, grunted and wept as cramp added yet another pain to the catalogue and all the while I remained there caged like an animal with neither food nor water. My tortured nipples would sometimes go numb but then when I moved I would scream as movement caused the pain to flood back. At some point urine flowed from me and collected on the cage floor beneath me.

And all this while I thought of Fortitude. I thought of the pride in her eyes as she welcomed me back from my trials and of her loving hands as she soothed my abused flesh. My beloved Fortitude did indeed give me the fortitude to endure my punishment and to soak up my pain.

Of course I had no sense at all of time but I know that at some point a black gown swept into view outside my tiny and cramped prison. The black shoes beneath the gown were of feminine design and my jaded mind reached the conclusion that Sister Penitence had come to play her part in my ordeal. She bent, fiddled with the padlock and swung open the door. My feet moved forward out of the cage painfully dragging upon my nipples and sending new waves of agony through my body. Her hands came into the cage and, with no attempt at gentleness, she removed my clamps then she moved away.

The next thing that I knew was of a powerful stream of freezing water directed at me instantly soaking my body and washing throughout the cage. The jet kept coming and pounding into my face and my aching and sore body then suddenly it ceased and I was left dripping and shivering but still tightly bound.

The large, hag-faced nun crouched down and cut the ropes from me then she pulled me from the cage and dragged me to my feet but, as soon as she released me I stumbled and she had to support me again. This did not please her and her hand slapped both sides of my face knocking my head from side to side as she barked at me to stand up. I put my hand on top of the cage and managed to stay there with water dripping from me and my hair straggling over my face. Again Penitence slapped my face and my breasts and used my hair to drag me upright so that I felt the hair would be dragged from my scalp but this time I managed, by sheer willpower, to stand. She threw a large towel at me and ordered me to dry myself which I did with her unfeeling eyes watching every move. She managed to convey the message that I was an object of disgust and that she wanted to touch me as little as possible to avoid contamination.

I was not permitted sufficient time to dry myself completely especially as so many areas of my body felt too tender to touch but, when Penitence decided that I was dry enough, she ordered me to follow her into the passage. I dragged myself along the corridor and up the stone steps in her wake and we came to the panelled room where I had denuded myself for Father Worthy.

Penitence handed me a morning after pill which she ordered me to swallow and then she pointed towards a pile of clothing on the table. I went to the table and leaned upon it for support but I found that the clothing was not the same as that which I had shed. There was a white blouse like my own but there was also a short pleated plaid skirt, a pair of white ankle socks, a plain white vest as may be worn by a boy and a pair of maroon gym knickers. This was the regulation uniform of the junior school and I looked at Penitence in confusion. Her explanation was terrifying.