Chapter One

 

"So, this is the little troublemaker," the monk towering over me breathed, his balding head reflecting the light from a solitary bulb hanging from the ceiling as he leaned over. "Quite an attractive specimen," he murmured, running his fingertips over my naked stomach.

"She is to be severely punished," the Mother Superior snapped, her clenched fists resting on her ample hips. "Beat the Devil out of her, if you have to."

The heartless woman gathering up her habit, she walked across the room and closed the heavy wooden door behind her. My near-naked body curved over a large, arched stone, the top of my head resting on the floor, a bolt of fear shot through me as I stared at the middle-aged man. Dressed in a Benedictine habit, the hood thrown back, he clasped his hands as if in prayer. His dark eyes scrutinizing my young body, I wondered with fear and trepidation what he intended to do with me. I'd never seen him before. Having only met other nuns, I'd not known that there was a man lurking in the bowels of the nunnery. I'd not known that there was a basement below the old building until the Mother Superior had dragged me down the stone steps.

As the monk moved to the corner of the stone-walled room, I looked up at the water trickling down the green slime hanging in long strands from the ceiling. The musk of decay filling my nostrils, my breathing fast and shallow, I heard a scratching noise emanating from the shadows. Rats? I tried to remain calm, thinking of the sun shining down on the beautiful gardens surrounding the nunnery. The scent of the flowers, the summer breeze rustling the foliage of the fruit trees in the orchard...

But I was below ground, my body bound with rope, my limbs spread. I'd never been so humiliated. My thighs painfully parted, my legs either side of the stone, I could feel the swollen lips of my vagina ballooning either side of my tight panties. The rough stone biting into my back, I looked through the bars of the upside down window at birds soaring across the blue sky. Freedom. I'd only been at the nunnery for a week. I'd done everything I'd been asked, worked hard in the garden... I didn't know what I was supposed to have done wrong. Not only had I been told that novice nuns were punished severely for misbehaving, I'd had to sign a document agreeing to accept whatever punishment the Mother Superior thought fit for me. I'd assumed that the word punishment had meant extra duties, not dragged into a dungeon and thrown over a stone. Heeding the Mother Superior's words, I'd done my best to keep out of trouble, to be courteous and obedient. But it seemed that my best wasn't good enough.

I was eighteen years old, and should never have been in such a place. I'd had it in mind to run away when my stepfather had informed me that I was to become a nun. He was a severe man, a devoutly religious man. After I'd got home late one night, he'd put me across his knee. I'd struggled, but he'd managed to lift my skirt and pull my panties down. He'd thrashed my bare bottom until I'd screamed. I'd only been to a club with friends. I'd missed the bus and had to walk home. He'd thought it best that I was sent to a nunnery where I'd be taught how to behave, where I'd not be a problem to him. My mother had had no say in the matter. She was as terrified of my stepfather as I was.

"Beat the Devil out of you?" the monk sniggered. "I have a far better way of dealing with insubordinate young girls."

"Please..." I whimpered futilely as he cast his eyes over the silk cups of my bra straining to contain my rounded breasts. "Please, I..."

"You'll find no mercy here," he interrupted me sternly. "This dungeon is my domain. This is where I correct the wicked ways of young girls."

"I'm not wicked," I snivelled, the ropes binding my young body cutting into my wrists and ankles as I struggled to break free.

"Are you calling the Mother Superior a liar?" he frowned.

"No, no, I..."

"You've not been down here before, have you? You've not had your young body laid over the stone."

"No," I murmured, trying to hold back my tears.

"It was a millstone used by monks many centuries ago. Why they buried it leaving only a semicircle above ground, I don't know. Perhaps they used it for correcting the sinful ways of young girls, much the same as I do." He ran his fingertip around my navel, toying with the small indent. "Does it hurt, Mary? Your back arched over the stone, your head upside down... are you in pain?"

"It's uncomfortable," I replied shakily, his finger moving down my naked flesh to the top of my tight panties.

"Uncomfortable?" he laughed mockingly. "If you think this is uncomfortable... you have a nice body, Mary. A very nice young body. You'll find yourself down here again, you can be sure of that. This won't be your last visit to my domain."

Standing by my side, his hand groping between my thighs, his fingers running over the taut material of my panties, he let out a chuckle. His hand was rough, cold against my sensitive skin. Squeezing my eyes shut, I wondered how many novice nuns had been brought down to the dungeon. Were young girls taken to the evil monk purely for punishment? His fingertips pressing into the soft swell of my panties, into the valley of my vagina, a terrible thought struck me. Were girls taken to the man to be punished, or for his perverted pleasure? This had been the last thing I'd expected. I'd thought that life in the nunnery would be dull, probably difficult at times, but had never dreamed that I'd be taken to a dungeon and...

"The Mother Superior tells me that you answered her back," he said accusingly. He paused, gazing longingly at my tight panties stretched tautly over the rise of my mons, the lips of my vagina bursting out either side of the narrow strip of material. "Is that right, Mary? You had the audacity to answer her back?"

"No, I just said that..."

"You swore at her, didn't you?"

"No, I didn't!" I returned. "I never swear"

"She said that you told her to fuck off."

"She's lying."

"Lying?" he echoed. His voice was severe, his deep-set eyes mirroring evil. He clutched the swell of my vaginal lips through my panties, painfully squeezing me there. "You're calling the Mother Superior a liar?" he murmured disbelievingly.

"No, I meant..."

"That's not a very good start, is it? You were told when you arrived here that you'd be punished most severely if you were disobedient or rude."

"Yes, but I haven't done anything wrong."

"Maybe you have, maybe you haven't. I'll give you the benefit of the doubt."

"Yes, yes," I gasped. "Please, I promise that I'll..."

"Don't get me wrong, Mary. You're still going to be punished. But I want you to look upon your punishment as a preventive measure. Look upon it as a taste of what you'll get if you misbehave."

The crack of a whip across the swell of my panties jolting my young body, I screamed out in agony. Again, the leather tails lashed the swollen lips of my vagina, the pain permeating my trembling womb as the man gloated over me. The whip by his side, he ran his fingers up my inner thighs and grabbed the elastic of my panties. He was going to pull them away from my most intimate place, I instinctively knew. I'd not know what to expect in way of punishment. In my naivety, I'd thought that I might have been left bound to the stone for an hour or so. Solitary confinement had crossed my mind, but not sexual abuse.

This was a dream, a nightmare, it had to be. I'd wake up and walk the grassy paths among the flowers in the garden with Sister Elizabeth. Did she know where I was, the horrors I was enduring? We'd become friends, working together, talking, laughing... she'd been at the nunnery for a year, and I wondered why she'd not mentioned the monk or the dungeon. She'd told me everything about the place. The clearing in the bushes at the far end of the orchard was an ideal spot for hiding away for a while, escaping the drudgery. The attic of the sixteenth century building was another retreat. But she'd not mentioned the dungeon.

"You have a lovely cunt, Mary," the monk sniggered in his vulgarity, ripping the flimsy material of my panties from my trembling body and staring at my bared sex crack. "Do you like the word, cunt?"

"No, no I don't," I murmured, adrenalin coursing through my veins, my vulva stinging as he stroked the blonde fleece covering my vaginal lips.

"Tell me, are you a virgin?"

"Yes, I am," I lied.

"The Mother Superior tells me that you're eighteen. Eighteen-year-old girls are inherently sexual, Mary. Hormones run amok, their thirst for sex unquenchable." His finger ran up and down my vaginal slit, teasing the sensitive petals of my protruding inner lips. "Do you masturbate?" he asked.

"No," I murmured, thoughts of running away filling my racked mind. "What are you going to do to me?"

"That's a good question," he sighed. "What am I going to do to you? You do understand that the Mother Superior has ordered me to deal with you?"

"Yes, but..."

"I'll deal with you quickly, Mary. In ten minutes, you'll be free to leave here, free to go to your room."

My room, my prison cell. At night, I'd lay on the hard mattress of my bed in the cold room, my hands between the warmth of my naked thighs, my slender fingers running up and down the wetting crack of my vagina. I'd closed my eyes and drift into my secret world. The barred windows fading, the stone walls replaced by warm curtains of deep-purple velvet, I'd float within my senses. My clitoris would stir, my sex juices flow, but my massaging fingers were no substitute for the intimate touch of another. My body ached for a lover. My mind ached for freedom.

I'd hear voices in the night as my clitoris swelled beneath my wet fingertip. Voices echoing somewhere in the distance. The cold, harsh voice of the Mother Superior. I'd tried to return to my world of make believe where a young man was attending my most intimate needs with his fingers. I'd imagine that I could feel him between my thighs, stroking, massaging, loving me. The voice would grow louder, reverberating around the ancient building. The morning would come, and I knew that the Mother Superior was coming for me.

"I'll be lenient with you, Mary," the monk said, a slight smile furling his thin lips. "As this is your first time in the dungeon, I'll be lenient." Tearing my bra from my trembling body, he gazed at the mounds of my firm breasts, the erect teats of my elongated nipples. Humiliation flooding me, my heart racing, I trembled uncontrollably as he ran the tip of his finger up and down my open sex crack. I didn't realize what he was doing as he stood with his feet either side of the stone, his habit brushing against my naked legs. "I'll be lenient, and gentle."

Something hard pressing between the gaping lips of my pussy, I tried to lift my head to see what he was doing. Fingers? The handle of the whip? I couldn't see the man, but I knew what he was pushing into the tight sheath of my vagina. I screamed, protested, but he drove his solid penis deep into my young pussy until his ballooning knob pressed hard against my cervix. My naked body crudely violated, tears streaming down my forehead as I again looked through the upside down window at the blue sky, I prayed for my freedom.

But I wasn't to find freedom. All I was to find at the nunnery was cruelty, the repeated violation of my young body. I doubted that I'd find a means of escape. The grounds were enclosed within a high wall; massive iron gates at the end of the long drive blocked the exit to the lane. The Mother Superior would hardly allow the nuns, her prisoners, to roam the grounds if there was an escape route. I'd noticed spot lights flooding the grounds at night. There were video cameras strategically placed around the building. I'd thought the lights and cameras were to keep intruders out, not to keep us imprisoned.

The monk's penis sliding in and out of the tight shaft of my pussy, his knob massaging the creamy-wet inner flesh of my once sacrosanct vagina, he gasped in his debauchery. My thoughts lurched around the wreckage strewn about my tormented mind as he crudely took my naked body to satisfy his perverted desires. Would I ever escape the nunnery? Would I ever see my mother again? What had I done to deserve this? At least the monk hadn't taken my virginity, I consoled myself. My one and only boyfriend, Chris, had stripped me of girlhood one sunny afternoon by the river. We'd loved, shuddered and gasped in our coming, our entwining. My stepfather had put an end to our relationship. He'd called me a hussy, a whore, and ordered me to go nowhere near men.

"Yes," the monk breathed, his penis driving in and out of my contracting vagina. I could feel his sperm flowing into my inflamed pussy, filling me, running down between the firm moons of my naked buttocks. He repeatedly rammed his swollen glans deep into my tightening vagina as his sperm gushed, lubricating the enforced coupling. His balls battering the tensed orbs of my naked buttocks, the squelching of my vaginal juices resounding around the cold dungeon, I turned my thoughts to my school days to try to block out the stark reality of my predicament.

I'd never see my friends again, I knew as my tethered body jolted with the illicit thrusting. We'd grown and left school, gone out into the world, enjoyed clubs and discos... they'd be out that night, laughing, joking, dancing. What did the night hold for me? The loneliness of my prison cell, the echoes of the Mother Superior's voice around the building as I tried to drown myself in the warmth of masturbation. The morning would come all too quickly, bringing another day of drudgery, work, prayers... and sexual abuse.

"You're a good fuck," the monk said, his deflating penis withdrawing from my sperm-flooded vagina. "A beautiful young body, a nice tight cunt... you're a very good fuck." I could feel his male seed trickling from the gaping entrance to my abused vagina, running down between my rounded buttocks, dribbling over the delicate brown tissue of my anus. I felt dirty, violated, used. Water trickling from the green slime above me, dripping onto my naked body, my long blonde hair trailing in the filth on the stone floor, I desperately needed to wash. There were no showers in the nunnery, only ancient baths with leaking taps and lukewarm water. I had to cleanse my body, and my mind. I had to escape the nightmare of the nunnery.

Watching the monk move behind my head, his upside down frame towering above me, I prayed for him to release me. He'd had his evil way, taken my young body to gratify his lustful craving. What more did he want? Foul water trickling down the hillocks of my breasts, sperm oozing from my inflamed vagina, never had I felt so soiled, unclean. But my time in the dungeon wasn't over. Kneeling behind my head, he lifted his cassock, a cocktail of sperm and my vaginal juices dripping from his flaccid penis. I gazed in horror at his upside down balls, again praying for him to release me.

"You can suck me clean," he chuckled, wiping the wet foreskin of his glistening cock over my pursed lips. "Suck it, Mary," he breathed urgently. "Suck my spunk and your cunt juice from my cock. Unless you want the whip again."

"Please," I whimpered. "Please, let me go now."

"All in good time. You're my plaything," he grinned, rubbing his wet knob over my nose, the fullness of my lips. "I think you'd better spend an hour or so down here every day."

"No, I don't want to be here," I murmured stupidly.

"Mary, you don't seem to understand. This is your home. You're going to be at the nunnery for many years. You might as well knuckle down and play the game. If you don't, then your life here will be extremely difficult. If not impossible."

Parting my lips as he fully retracted his foreskin, I sucked his wet glans into my mouth. His balls pressing against my forehead, he pushed his stiffening penis further into my mouth, his swelling glans at the back of my throat as he gasped in his crudity. I could taste his salty sperm, my vaginal juices, as I breathed in the heady aroma of his scrotum. His penis fully erect, his glans filling my mouth, I knew that he was going to come again, pump his sperm down my throat. I'd never taken a man into my mouth before. My boyfriend had tentatively broached the subject once or twice, but I'd never been able to bring myself to commit the vulgar act.

"How many men have mouth-fucked you?" the monk asked unashamedly, painfully pinching the sensitive brown teats of my young breasts as I sucked on his huge glans. "I'll bet you thought that you'd never have sex again when you arrived here. All the novice nuns think that they'll never enjoy a cock again. Play your cards right, Mary, and I'll make sure that your time here is as pleasant as possible."

Forced to breathe in the scent of his genitalia as his hairy scrotum pressed against my nose, I knew that I'd have to appease his base male desires if I was going to have any kind of life at the nunnery. In my muddled thinking, I decided that it wouldn't be too bad having the man use my naked body to satisfy his perverted needs. No one would ever know of the sins I'd committed. When I eventually left the evil place... when? If I ever left the evil place, I'd block out all memories of the sexual abuse. In the meantime, I'd knuckle down and play the game, as he'd put it. I'd appease his perverted craving, but make every effort to escape the house of crude sex.

Sucking on the monk's silky-smooth knob, I thought I felt something brushing against my inner thighs. I could see the monk's hand, and knew it wasn't him as a cold, finger-like object stroked the sensitive flesh at the tops of my thighs. Praying that there wasn't another man in the room, I thought that it must be a spider crawling over my vulval flesh. The dungeon would be full of spiders and other creeping insect, I knew as he gasped and rocked his hips. Spiders, bugs... and rats?

His swollen knob gliding back and forth over my tongue, his swinging balls battering my nose, my forehead, he breathed deeply as he mouth-fucked me. I hated the term, I hated the monk, the Mother Superior, the nunnery... why hadn't Sister Elizabeth told me of the horrors in store for me? She must have known about the dungeon, the evil awaiting me there. Perhaps she'd not wanted to frighten me. Had I known I'd have attempted to escape. Had I known...

"Coming," the monk gasped, his purple knob enveloped by my full lips, his sperm jetting to the back of my mouth, bathing my tongue. I swallowed hard as he moved back and forth, my mouth overflowing, the white liquid running up my nose as his glans pumped out its orgasmic seed. He moaned in his illicit pleasure, his knob repeatedly driving to the back of my throat as he mouth-fucked me in his crudity. Coughing and spluttering, sperm running up my nose, I finally gasped for air as he withdrew his penis. I couldn't take much more. Sperm running over my face, streaming over my forehead and matting my blonde hair, oozing between the inner lips of my abused pussy...

"Right," he said, releasing my wrists and ankles. "You'd better get back to your duties." That was it, my nightmare was over - for the time being. As he helped me off the millstone and steadied me on my sagging legs, I looked at my ripped bra, my torn panties lying on the filthy floor. He followed my gaze and sniggered. "I don't want you wearing anything beneath your habit," he said sternly. "If I catch you wearing a bra or panties, there'll be trouble." Grabbing my habit, I tugged the garment over my head, desperate to escape the grime and stench of the dungeon and see the light of day. "I'll be checking, Mary," he snarled as I donned my wimple and moved towards the door. "I want your pretty little cunt naked and ready for me at all times. And one more thing. You'll tell no one about this place. You'll not breathe a word about me or the dungeon to anyone."

Leaving the dungeon, I followed the dingy corridor and climbed the stone steps, finally emerging through a small door leading into the chapel. Making for the sunlight streaming in through the chapel doors, I walked out into the grounds and breathed in the flower-scented air. My hands trembling, my heart banging hard against my chest, I felt anger rising from the pit of my stomach. I'd felt fear as the Mother Superior had led me into the dungeon, horror as I'd been abused by the evil monk. But now I was angry. To be used, sexually abused, my young body crudely violated, whipped and...

"Mary," Sister Elizabeth called as she approached.

"What?" I snapped. I shouldn't have been angry with her.

"Are you all right? I've been looking everywhere for you."

"I'd have thought you'd have known where I was," I returned as we walked through an arch in the high hedge.

"I had no idea where... oh," she sighed, the black pools of her dark eyes reflecting guilt. "Have you been downstairs?"

"If by downstairs you mean the dungeon, yes, I have. Why didn't you tell me about it?"

"No one talks about it. You must have been told not to say anything?"

"Yes, I was. I just wish you'd warned me."

"What good would that have done?" she asked as we approached the orchard.

"I would have... oh, I don't know. How many times have you been down there?"

"Dozens," she murmured pensively, hanging her head. "Dozens of times."

"I'm never going there again," I stated firmly as we sat on a bench beneath an apple tree.

"You have no choice, Mary. If the Mother Superior..."

"No choice?" I echoed, grabbing her arm. "I have every choice. We have every choice. I'm not staying in this evil place for a moment longer."

"There's no way out," she signed despondently. "Do you think I've not tried to get out of here? There's no way out, believe me."

"Where there's a will, there's a way."

Sitting quietly in the shade beneath the tree, I was aware of sperm oozing between the stinging lips of my vagina, the taste of semen lingering on my tongue. I was determined not to be forced to endure another session of debauchery with the perverted monk. I was going to escape, and no one was going to stop me. Leaving the bench, I walked through the orchard to the perimeter wall. It was at least ten feet high with no overhanging trees to use as a means of climbing to the barbed wire running along the top. Elizabeth ambled up to me and gazed dolefully at the wall, the coiled barbed wire. She might have given up all hope of freedom, resigned herself to a life of sexual abuse and drudgery in the prison, but I wasn't going to.

"Well?" she sighed, her dark eyes locked to mine. "How do you intend to climb the wall? And don't talk about ladders or ropes because there's nothing like that here."

"I don't know, yet," I replied. "There's got to be a way..."

"We'd better get back for prayers," she broke in. "The last thing we want is the Mother Superior coming to look for us."

Elizabeth was about my age, maybe a little younger. Although usually covered by her wimple, I'd seen her long jet-black hair when she'd become very hot in the garden and had slipped the black material off her head to cool down. She was very attractive and, like me, should never have been at the nunnery. She'd not told me why she was there, whether it was through choice or not. I'd assumed that she, too, had been forced into the terrible situation. Having only met a week previously, I didn't know a great deal about her. She was tall and very well spoken, a little shy and somewhat nervous. Her nervous disposition didn't surprise me. After all, spending a year in the nunnery was bound to have a detrimental effect on her. As we walked back to the formidable-looking building, I couldn't stop thinking about escaping. I couldn't imagine spending a year in the evil place. I dreaded the thought of another day, let alone a year.

Noticing a delivery van as we neared the building, I'd a good mind to leap in the back while the driver wasn't around. But no. My escape had to be planned properly. I didn't want to grab the first opportunity that came along just to fail miserably. Or, worse still, get caught. Following Elizabeth into the chapel, I noticed the Mother Superior hovering behind one of the stone pillars in the shadows. She looked at me, her beady eyes glaring. Had she known what I'd been forced to endure in the dungeon? I wondered. She can't have been that naive that she didn't know what the monk got up to.

"Mary," she whispered as I passed her. "I want a word with you."

"Yes, Mother?" I smiled sweetly as Elizabeth walked on.

"I hope your punishment will make you think twice before misbehaving again."

"Yes, Mother."

"I noticed you walking in the garden with Sister Elizabeth. You're spending far too much time with her. From now on, you'll keep away from her. Do you understand?"

"But..."

"Do you understand?"

"Yes, Mother."

"Immediately after prayers, you'll weed the kitchen garden. You know where the tools are kept, don't you?"

"Yes, but..."

"But what?"

"The evening meal is after prayers."

"The kitchen garden is after prayers, Mary."

"I'll be eating later?" I ventured.

"Meal time will be over long before you've finished. Now, off you go."

Hatred welling in my heart, I knelt next to Elizabeth and mumbled my prayers. Was there a God? Endure horrendous sexual abuse, work in the garden, and go without a meal? The evil Mother Superior had it in for me, I knew. For some reason, she'd singled me out. A tear rolling down my cheek, I felt that I'd be better off in prison. My mother had said that she'd write every day but I'd received nothing from her. Thinking that my mail was being destroyed, I realized that I was completely cut off from the outside world. If I could get to a telephone, make contact with my mother or a friend... no doubt there was a phone in the Mother Superior's office, but the chances of getting to it would be nil.

Leaving the chapel after prayers, I went to the kitchen garden. The evening sun sinking in the sky, I grabbed a trowel from the shed and began digging up the weeds growing among the lettuces. At least I found some solace alone in the tranquillity of the garden. Apart from the singing birds, all was quiet and peaceful. I worked for an hour or so and then sat on the grassy path and slipped my wimple off. Shaking my long blonde hair loose, the evening breeze cooling me, I reflected on my first week at the nunnery.

Meeting the Mother Superior with my stepfather, I'd started off all right. The woman had seemed nice enough, asking me about myself, my interests and hobbies. I'd thought that I might even enjoy the nunnery, until she came to my room and asked me why the place was so filthy. I'd not even unpacked my bag, let alone had time to clean up someone else's mess. The following morning, she woke me at six by hammering on the door and asking why I wasn't helping with the breakfasts in the kitchens. I'd not been told anything about the kitchens. But, of course, that was no excuse. Recalling my horrendous time with the monk, I reclined on the grass, again wondering how to escape the nunnery. I'd find a way, I knew as I closed my eyes and thought of my friends, wondering whether they were out for the evening.

"This is your idea of working, is it?" the Mother Superior's voice bellowed, her ample figure silhouetted against the evening sky as she towered above me.

"Oh," I gasped, sitting up. "I..."

"Look at the state of you. Where's your wimple?"

"I was hot so..."

"You lazy slut," she hissed, kicking my leg. "Come with me."

Grabbing my wimple and leaping to my feet, I followed the woman through the garden to the nunnery. I knew where we were going as she led me into the chapel. Opening the small side door, she ordered me down the stone steps. Grabbing my arm as I reached the bottom step, she frog-marched me along the corridor to the dungeon. The monk looked up and frowned as the woman threw me to the floor as if I was a rag doll. Rolling me onto my back with his foot, he turned to the Mother Superior as she slammed the door shut.

"Problems?" he asked the woman.

"Her time in the dungeon this afternoon did no good whatsoever," she hissed.

"Really?" he murmured. "That does surprise me. What has she done?"

"She was sunbathing when she was supposed to be working in the garden. And she wasn't wearing her wimple. That's a rule that no one, but no one, breaks."

"Oh, dear," the man sighed, shaking his head as he looked down at my trembling body.

"She's got the Devil in her, and that's a fact. She's been nothing but trouble since she arrived, and I've had enough. Rather than have her evening meal, she decided to sunbathe."

"But, you told me to..." I began shakily.

"Shut up," the woman snapped. "You see the insolence I have to contend with? I told her to have her meal and then do a little weeding in the kitchen garden. So, what does she do? Miss her meal and go sunbathing."

"There's only one thing for it," the monk said dolefully, grabbing my arm and yanking me to my feet. "Remove your habit," he ordered me.

"Please, I..."

"Now!"

"She does nothing but argue and answer back," the woman complained as I pulled my habit over my head and stood naked before my captors. "My, God," she gasped, her wide eyes gazing in horror at my curvaceous young body. "Where are your knickers and bra?"

"I was told..." I began, looking at the monk.

"You've been walking around the nunnery naked beneath your habit?" the man asked, his dark eyes glaring at me. "Have you no morals?"

"She must have been to prayers like that," the Mother Superior murmured. "Never have I known such wickedness. Deal with her. Properly, this time," she stormed, leaving the room and slamming the door shut.

Laughing, the monk stood before me and painfully squeezed the sensitive protrusions of my elongated nipples. I was guilty of resting on the grass, and removing my wimple. But my underwear had been shredded by the monk and he'd said that there'd be trouble if he caught me wearing a bra and panties. I couldn't win, I knew as he pulled a heavy velvet curtain aside, revealing a small door. Opening the door, he took my arm and pushed me into a dimly-lit room. Alone in the cold room, my eyes adjusting to the light as he closed and locked the door, I focused on a steel pole about three feet high rising from the floor. Two slightly curved metal rods protruding from the top of the pole, I wondered what its purpose was. The curved rods about two-inches in diameter, rising either side of the main pole, I guessed what the horrendous device was for.

Looking up, I noticed two chains hanging down from the ceiling, metal clamps secured to the ends hanging about six feet from the floor. There were more chains fixed to the walls about three inches from the floor, the ends lying loose by the metal pole. Trying not to picture the private holes of my naked body impaled on the metal rods, my arms high above my head, I wondered why the monk had locked me in. Where had he gone? What was he doing? Finally curling up on a dirty blanket in the corner of the room, I closed my eyes and managed to sleep. Dreams haunted me; nightmares came to me in the dark of my tormented mind.