DOWN IN THE underground chamber below the chapel, an alarming scene awaited Allegra. Once again the sisterhood was gathered below the huge fresco of the Philomastrix, their pale faces suspended like masks in the gloomy candlelight. But they were not alone. The birching block which Allegra anticipated kneeling upon was already occupied. In a moment she had discerned the figure was a young girl. Then, slowly lifting her head, the girl turned to Allegra, imploring her with wild eyes. It was Celina; her mouth and limbs were bound but her eyes fiercely struggled to communicate some secret message. Immediately, Allegra attempted to comfort her friend, but with a harsh tug, Sister Ino held her fast by the arm.
‘Ah, Sister Almoro. You have decided to join us?’
How she hated that name now. With an expression of loathing, she turned to the Prioress. Summoning a tremendous effort for Celina’s sake, she feigned submission and threw herself down on her knees.
‘I have indeed returned, Holy Mother. I beg your forgiveness for my absence. It will not happen again.’
‘Indeed it will not. For your friend, here, has told us a great deal of your affairs. The opportunity will never arise again.’
Hurriedly, Allegra tried to remember what it was she had told Celina of her purpose in visiting the city. She had said almost nothing. That was good, she told herself, as she studied the tiles on the floor and waited for the official pronouncement on her crimes. It was not long coming.
‘Sister Almoro, your behaviour alarms and disappoints us. The list of misdemeanours already inscribed upon your slate would be enough to frighten almost any other novice into surrender. And yet – what do you do? Do you then decide to follow the paths of modesty and submission laid out before you? Do you submit to the iron rod of discipline? You do not.’ The Prioress rose stiffly from her chair, and those gathered around her murmured a little and drew back. For the first time, Allegra felt a shiver of apprehension. Across the smooth stone floor, Celina watched her companion with eyes large with fear, her position rendering her completely powerless.
‘Do you submit?’ the old woman cried, her voice grown surprisingly strong with the power of her passion.
With her head still bowed to the floor, Allegra spoke. The atmosphere in the room was sultry and oppressive; she was desperate to be out of this place, and to free Celina too. ‘I do.’
‘Then you must prove it. For in submission there is love, and in correction, mercy.’
Allegra prepared her body for pain. Whatever whip or birch was laid upon her, she would bear it. It was physical pain only. Her mind was her own.
‘The punishment I decree,’ the old woman began in a loud and resonant voice, ‘is a hard one. Triplefold it is, to test the will, the spirit and the arts. There are three parts to this riddle, and all parts must be accomplished. For the first part, you must solve this riddle: “As you beat, so you beat, man and woman both.”’
Allegra looked around herself in complete confusion. She had expected the old woman to order a few dozen strokes to be delivered to her, or perhaps to serve the nuns in some depraved manner. But this? What was it about? To beat twice? To beat two people at once? She had no idea at all.
‘And if I cannot solve this mystery?’ Allegra asked, suddenly desperate.
‘As I said, you must solve all three. If you fail? Well, then you cannot stay here. I will be generous and give you passage back to the city. And there you must stay – penniless and outcast. Oh, and your friend, of course, will go with you.’
So, she must condemn Celina as well. Celina, who at least was grateful to the sisters for her bed and board. Celina, who still had some small hope of escaping the place with dignity one day. Spetzina’s words about greedy nuns rang painfully in her ears. Her dowry would disappear with her memory. If only she had not come back from the city – but then, what of Celina, an innocent victim left here to suffer alone?
As if losing interest in her, the sisters returned to their talk and strange ritual chants and Allegra was left to rack her brain herself. Thankfully, Domica approached her, masked as ever despite her modest gown and veil.
‘You are allowed to look into the old armoury,’ she whispered. ‘It may help you.’
With a backward glance at Celina, who still lay bound across the block, Allegra rose and followed the mysterious nun through a low, metal studded door.
She might have expected a room of ancient swords and armour, and at first glance this was what she saw. Only when her eyes adjusted to the gloom broken infrequently by smoking tallow set in the walls, did she identify the strange implements that filled the low chamber. Across one wall were bunches of birches such as she had already experienced, along with flexible canes of varying lengths and curvature. Along the next, were a variety of leather implements: the tapette with its peculiar paddle shape and long fringed martinets and cats-o’-nine-tails.
Fascinated by this shrine to the nun’s cruel goddess, Allegra inspected the remaining shelves. Buckles, bracelets, bonds of every type were available. There were even fine silk cords with ribbons and lace which would yet hold any victim still and secure. Next were masks; both black carnival masks and white waxen half masks, velvet masks that clung to the face and leather masks which bore strange, pagan countenances.
Clothes were there too: but such clothes as Allegra had never dreamt of. A corset of steel had pride of place, so fierce that its waist was barely a handspan; the breasts meanwhile showed only as two empty circles waiting to have willing flesh pushed through. Other strange corsets and belts were hung along the shelves. Unable to contain her curiosity, Allegra inspected the bizarrely formed leather stays, strange shoes and belts that formed the sisterhood’s extraordinary collection. So interested was she that she forgot to be censorious. She could not quite believe that anyone could be so artful as to make these objects, which appeared so tantalising, offering she knew not what secret pleasures to those with the courage to use them.
‘Ah, what is that?’ she asked in a hushed voice. At first sight it was a sword belt, though rather broad and fastening between the legs as well as round the waist. Testing the scabbard, Allegra pulled out not a sword but a long, fringed martinet. It felt nicely weighted in her palm; heavy but flexible, as if it would spring gingerly through the air. Then, stifling a giggle, she saw what it was that was different about the belt. Growing like a false tail from the straps of leather crossing at the crotch was a strange appendage. Also of leather, it was a stuffed and rigid column, quite the size and shape of a well-endowed man. Laughing with delight, she reached out her fingers and felt its hardness: with her finger and thumb she could not circle its width. It felt satisfactorily hard to her touch and it was impossible not to wonder how it might feel, were it used in the way it was clearly intended.
Smiling shyly, she turned to Domica.
‘Is it what I think it is?’
The strange nun nodded.
‘And is it used?’
Again, that oddly neutral nod. ‘It would almost be like playing the man,’ she speculated. ‘How strange.’ Then quickly she added, in response to a thought exploding in her brain like gunpowder, ‘Is that it? To beat and beat? To be man and woman?’
Domica did not move.
‘Please,’ Allegra begged. ‘What is it I must do?’
In answer, Domica walked towards the door, leading her back to the chapel. Hastily, Allegra picked up the strange belt and hurried after her.
Back in the larger room, the gathering waited for her. Making her way to the Prioress, Allegra lifted the belt for all to see, and presented it to the old crone.
‘Here is the answer to your riddle,’ she announced. ‘As it beats, so it beats, man and woman both.’
The Prioress looked at her with surprising disdain.
‘Not quite, Sister Almoro. What was it I said?’
Puzzled, Allegra tried her hardest to remember. She was sure the words were perfect.
‘As you beat, so you beat. And what do you think I meant there?’
The small crowd around the old woman laughed spitefully at Allegra’s despairing expression.
‘I do not know,’ she wailed. ‘Surely your riddle is solved?’
‘Indeed no. The solution is not yet complete. It is not yet enacted.’ Pointedly, the Prioress lifted her eyebrows and looked over at Celina. There she still lay, gagged and bound, ready as any submissive victim for the scourge.
With a sense of fierce outrage, Allegra slowly realised what it was the sisterhood wished her to do. As if it had burst into flames in her hand, she dropped the loathsome belt on the floor. ‘I cannot. It would humiliate me, which I can bear. But it would humiliate her, too. That is too much to ask.’
‘And to be turned out like a beggar in the city. That would not humiliate her? Very well then. Let her be unbound.’
Like a well-trained soldier, Domica broke from the ranks of nuns and approached Celina’s prone figure. Allegra could see her friend making an intense effort to speak, shaking her head and struggling, as if she were desperate to prevent Domica from freeing her. Confused and bewildered, Allegra called out to Domica.
‘Stop! Hold a while. I need to think.’
‘You have no time to think,’ cut in the Prioress. ‘The ritual must begin now, or you are both to be freed.’
But in this instant, Allegra had seen her friend’s change of countenance. Now she no longer struggled; indeed, she looked at Allegra with willing, hungry eyes. Reluctantly, she decided that this was indeed what Celina wanted. How could she answer for the girl? Perhaps she would rather suffer this injury to her dignity and remain in the convent of Santa Agnetha than be cast out like a beggar. Only it will be hard, Allegra told herself, to hurt the poor creature in any way.
With all eyes upon her, Allegra threw down her cloak and lifted her heavy brown skirts to her waist. Knowing the ruffles of her shift would largely cover her nakedness, she slipped the heavy belt up and around her waist.
‘The belt is worn naked,’ the Prioress interrupted.
With a sigh of aggrieved impatience, Allegra began to undress. Anything, she told herself, to get this unsavoury act over with. Untying her skirt and petticoats, she let them fall to the ground at her feet. Then, with Domica’s help, she unlaced her bodice and stays. Finally, she stood naked before them, her smooth flesh dappled in the candlelight. There seemed no response from the gathering, though she knew she must look a bizarrely erotic sight. Below her dark flowing hair, her rounded breasts swung freely and her hips flared fully below her waist. But from waist to groin she was encased in the strange leather belt from which sprang the stiff prong of leather, ever eager and ready to do her bidding. She found herself looking to the Prioress for guidance.
‘As punishment for lying to aid your absconding, I decree thirty lashes to the flesh while she is beaten with the phallus. Begin.’
Quaking, Allegra walked somewhat unsteadily over to the birching block. She realised she had little idea of what to do. Never in her life had she beaten another person – and certainly never dreamt of physically taking one like a man. Beneath her bare feet, she felt the warm wood of the block and sensed the heat rising from Celina as she approached her from the rear. Very gently, she stroked the back of her dress.
‘Is this what you wish?’ she whispered so low that no one but Celina might hear her.
In answer, the girl nodded her head, unable even to make a sound, so securely did the gag seal her mouth. But even with permission, she could not conceive of how to carry out the task. Maybe in the privacy of their own room, she might have wanted to take the girl, or even playfully smacked her in a lover’s game. But here – with dozens of eyes upon them – it was impossible for her to take on such a masterful role.
‘Come along, get on with it,’ the Prioress cried. A chorus of muttering rose from those thronged around her. Nervously, Allegra looked down at the prone girl, unable to tell how to start. Thankfully, Domica appeared at her shoulder, and with a crisp, dispassionate gesture, began to lift the girl’s skirts in readiness. In a moment, the thin, creamy petticoat was pinned up high on to Celina’s back, revealing her familiar plump little rear. Below, the bonds held her legs wide, so her stockinged thighs were parted at the top to show the slightest hint of soft, pink flesh.
It suddenly occurred to Allegra that this was how she must have appeared to the priest, Guillam. Anxiously, she looked over to the dais and soon found him there, white-faced and grim amongst the huddle of nuns. What must he be thinking now, she wondered? Did he, too, recall her own willing submission? How strange, even piquant, to have him watch her do the same again.
Unable to escape her duty any further, she unwillingly slipped the leather handled martinet from its scabbard. At least an arm’s length it stretched; dancing slightly in the air with a fine tail of knotted thongs swinging at its end. Setting one foot before the other, Allegra lifted the handle and aimed, letting the tail of the implement fall with a sharp crack upon Celina’s peachy flesh. She squirmed, and a little pattern of brighter pink almost instantly appeared on her rounded skin.
‘Harder than that!’ cried her holy tormentor. ‘And it does not count if the whip falls alone.’
Exasperated, Allegra remembered the way in which the priest had approached her. Unable to resist glancing over to him, she let her free hand caress the girl’s shapely buttocks, feeling a slight tremor as she let her fingers slip between the open cleft. With a mixture of both dismay and desire she found her fingers growing wet and slippery. There was no doubt that Celina was in a state of readiness. With her index finger she tried her secret entrance. It was hot and ready, dilated with desire, Celina flinched at her touch.
‘Forgive me,’ she whispered as she pressed herself down upon the girl, feeling the heated flesh beneath her gradually relax and succumb. Against her own naked stomach she could feel the rounded milky rump pressing against her hotly. With thigh against thigh she explored the angle of the leather extremity as it pressed into Celina’s flesh. Easing it against the slippery fissure, she was rewarded by a shudder of pleasure from the girl.
It had not occurred to Allegra that this would be anything other than a deeply humiliating penance, but now she quickly understood that Celina was frantic for satisfaction. Her spine arched and her whole rear end rose in eager expectation of penetration. Grasping the thick column of leather between her fingers, Allegra did her best to guide it home, parting the quivering lips to find that gently pulsing entrance that longed to be filled. As the thickened head pressed against Celina’s distended opening, Allegra at once felt a surge of pleasure. Beneath her, the girl was wanton; completely at her mercy as she pushed her hips forward inch by inch.
So this was how a man must feel, she mused as the thick column bore down into Celina’s delicate flesh, transporting her into a state of rabid delight. It was a feeling of power and subjugation, like a warrior astride a horse. Very gently, she began to rock back and forth, watching the shiny black column drive in and out of the luxurious pink labia. Soon she could see the black rod growing wet and slippery as the girl strained at her bonds to have it ever deeper inside her. Feeling ever more unsettled, Allegra obliged, pushing further forward, forcing the stiff leather phallus deeper and deeper inside Celina’s willing body.
With a sudden recollection, Allegra grasped the martinet tight in her hand, and let it loose on the girl’s pounding rear. Not breaking her rhythm, she let it fall again, and again. Soon she was rewarded with a rapid convulsion in the girl’s loins. With skilful timing she let the whip fall lightly but sharply on her flesh and at the same time gave her a series of sharp, long thrusts that forced her entrance ever wider. She could see now that the girl was taking almost all of its length, from the round tip to the thick base that was stretching her ever larger. Then, with a spasm that burst through the whole of her body, Celina’s climax quickly came. She seemed to grasp the delightful appendage deep inside her as she shuddered and writhed on its unyielding length. But as Allegra paused, the Prioress bid her carry on. There were still another fifteen strokes to render.
‘I am sorry, I must continue,’ she whispered.
Now she could see Brother Guillam, his face attentive and flushed as he watched the two girls. Inside, Allegra laughed to think of his discomfiture. She had no doubt at all that beneath his long robe he was again in an agony of frustrated desire. How he had ridden her that night – he was certainly no beginner at the art. Watching his face, she began to rock her hips again, aware of her breasts gently swinging as she took the girl again with measured control. Deftly, she used the martinet – not to hurt but to scorch her senses even further. Now she could see him lick his dry lips, swallowing in discomfort as she taunted him.
She knew that he, too, remembered. What was it he had done? Tightly, she grasped Celina’s waist and pulled her back and forth, rocking her on and off the stiff leather shaft. The girl had clearly had little enough time to recover her last ecstasy before again she was being pushed to new heights of pleasure. Willingly, she was letting herself be used in this way, enjoying the strange experience of a never ending supply of hard penetration. Letting the martinet fall again, Allegra whispered encouragement to her friend. ‘Come on, take it all, my sweet.’
Again, she manoeuvred it as far as she dared, letting her wild imagination conjure visions of herself playing the thwarted priest. How difficult it must have been for him, to have a creature such as this writhing on his sensitive member, driving him to the limits of his control. Why, even with a lack of feeling in the appendage she could begin to feel delicious sensations clutching her own stomach, emanating from the underneath of the belt where the rough straps rubbed between her legs. On and on she probed, teasing and tormenting Celina with the rod’s long and inflexible tip, searing her with its length and hard resilient width. Soon she realised that the steady movement caused complementary friction to the strap rubbing against her own receptive vulva. Again, she raised the whip, and again fixed on the face of the priest. For sure, he looked ready to swoon now, so closely was he watching the pair of girls in their unnatural and frantic coupling. With a gesture of abandonment, she tossed back her hair and let him see her breasts as they rocked rhythmically, her nipples stiff with excitement and eager to be touched.
If only, she thought, he might again take me from behind – while at the front I took Celina. Closing her eyes, she imagined him approaching her from behind. She remembered the long, crimson phallus that he had barely been able to squeeze inside her. She would enjoy being beaten again, and what a delight to give Celina pleasure simultaneously. Giving Celina yet faster thrusts, she pictured his bending her slightly and parting her legs, forcing the swollen flesh inside her and then the three moving as one, driving her onwards, forcing the leather phallus ever deeper into Celina’s eager flesh.
Glancing down, she could now see that Celina’s lips were swollen and puffy as her excitement reached another unbridled peak. Like a sleepwalker, she watched the strange black pillar pound back and forth inside the girl’s rosy cleft. Even more strongly, now, she pictured the priest astride her rear, driving her on as she mounted the girl. She imagined him gripping her waist, squeezing her breasts, pounding into her. In parallel to her fancy, she drove into Celina, whose face was now glazed with lust and almost unconscious with pleasure.
Uncontrollably, Allegra suddenly felt the strap beneath her grow fiery and with a sudden movement, she pushed it harder into the centre of Celina’s juicy cleft. Only a few more strokes remained, but as she delivered them, she saw Celina’s neck arch and her face fill with bliss. From nowhere, it seemed, a pulse within herself now burnt hotter and hotter. The strap was wet now, sliding back and forth, tormenting her flesh. Unable to control herself any longer, she fell like a rabid dog on to Celina’s back, clasping her own thighs around Celina’s, driving the black tormentor as hard as she could into her flesh.
In a desperate attempt to relieve herself, she forced her own vulva hard against the girl’s, so their juices mingled and the strap finally tightened so hard it rubbed her sex into spasms of climactic pleasure. Beneath her, she could feel Celina shudder and quake as she experienced the full length of the phallus, so hard and sharply had it been driven inside her. Allegra clung there on her back for a long, trembling moment, feeling moisture trickle down from them both, so intense had been their coupling and release.
Utterly humiliated, she pulled off the girl, watching the long, dripping length of the phallus free itself from the girl’s body. In her excitement, she had forgotten the hostile audience who watched her every move. Somehow, she had completely lost control and made an intensely foolish spectacle of herself. She felt utterly ashamed of herself, and unable to face the Prioress. Slowly, with head bowed, she walked over to pick up her clothes and brought her cloak across to cover Celina.
‘Very well, you have accomplished your task,’ she heard the Prioress say. ‘And learnt something of yourself as you did it, I trust. But now you face a second task and a second riddle. We shall see if you are capable of solving a greater mystery.’