Olivia awoke as she had slept; with her fingers subconsciously working to resurrect the ghost of the orgasm that had so aroused her on the iron horse.
'Good morning, miss.'
Olivia blushed and hastily snatched the blanket up under her chin as a cheerful nun swept into her cell and opened the shutters.
'It's a lovely day,' the newcomer beamed.
The tiny cell flooded with light. The nun placed a bowl of porridge and a jug of milk on the old table.
This was only Olivia's second morning in the convent, yet somehow she felt as if she had been there for weeks. She was not so much a guest - she was more of an inmate. She was sure there was a pattern to all this. 'I wish to speak to the Abbess,' she said, picking her habit up from the floor beside her cot.
The nun poured her a beaker of milk. 'Why should you want to do that? The Abbess sees only those she wishes to see.'
'I want to see her immediately. I shall be leaving today, with or without her permission.'
'Perhaps you should speak to the Novitiate Mistress first. I'm sure she could help you.'
'I don't want to see the Novitiate Mistress,' Olivia retorted, feeling a little more confident with the dawn of a new day. 'I want to see the Abbess.'
'But why? You've passed your initiation.'
Olivia did not care for that remark; an initiation usually meant the beginning of things to come, and she had no desire to discover what those things might be.
'I would like you to take me to her... please.'
'I can't.'
'Why?' Olivia asked desperately.
'Because she'll be taking mass in a few minutes. You'd better hurry - we've all got to be there. I'm on my way to the chapel now.'
'But...' Before Olivia could explain that she had nothing to do with the convent and their daily rituals the chirpy nun had turned with a flurry and a swish of her habit and was gone. Olivia groaned, but sat at the table and ate the porridge; it was her intention to leave today for Ottery, whatever anybody else might say, and so she would need as much fuel as possible. Once she had scraped the bowl clean she decided to go to the chapel to have it out with the Abbess.
The chapel... now where was that?
Down the stairs and across the courtyard. Olivia could hear the bell tolling - its eerie tone sent a chill right through her. She reached the bottom of the stairs and came to a curious dead end; a blank wall of stone. She cursed, retraced her steps, and went along another corridor.
She tried a door with large iron hinges, and found herself in a depressing and musty scriptorium. Books lay open on the desks, and her natural curiosity made her look and flick over some pages. They were magnificently illustrated manuscripts glowing with colour, and all of them full of the most incredible pictures she had ever seen. Her mind went back to the chapel, to the painting over the chancel arch. She suddenly felt as if she'd been transported back in time, to an age long dead when torture and the violation of women were an everyday occurrence. The books seemed to be instruction manuals of some sort, written in gothic script that she couldn't understand. Strange symbols and codes littered the pages, along with paintings of men and women suffering flagellation and various other ordeals. She had forgotten about the Abbess; the fascinating books gripped her.
The largest tome was almost as big as the desktop. Olivia struggled to open it. What she saw took her breath away. There was a wheel divided into sections, each with a picture, and at the centre was a painting of a figure - half man and half woman. The paintings in the segments were of men and women indulging in sexual intercourse, and every one of them was flogging the other. Some with whips, others with rods, but the expressions were identical; pure, unadulterated ecstasy. Olivia shuddered, but could not tear her eyes away.
Her finger traced the perimeter of the wheel where more figures romped through the air in wild abandon, headed by a splendidly painted woman riding a broomstick. Her long legs were thrown outwards so that the reader could see her minutely executed sex. There was no doubt that the broomstick was a substitute for a man's organ. The look on her face told Olivia she was at the height of orgasm. Presumably the symbols and zodiacal codes referred to the woman herself. Olivia managed to close the huge book with a dull thump. She fanned away the rising dust and read the cover inscription: Sanctus Licentia Copulatum. 'I wonder what it means,' she said aloud.
'It means, mind your own business.'
'Oh!' Olivia spun round, her heart pounding in her chest.
A pair of glasses flashed at her. The Mistress pounced with surprising agility, grabbed her arms and shook her.
'Let go!' Olivia wailed. 'Please, you're hurting me!'
'You were coming along so nicely,' the Mistress hissed into her face. 'You passed your initiation far better than most. I had such high hopes of you. And now what do I find? Here you are in our beloved scriptorium violating the sacred books! You're a harlot! You'll be severely punished for this gross act!'
She shook the poor girl all the more.
'Let me go! I didn't mean to do any wrong! Please, I was just looking for the Abbess to tell her I'll be leaving today! I want to make my way to Ottery - if you could arrange a little food and some clothes. Ouch! You're hurting me!'
The Mistress was unrelenting. A little spittle landed on Olivia's cheek as she spat, 'The only arrangement I'm going to make is for your trip to the punishment chamber!'
Olivia caught hold of the desk and hung on for dear life. The Mistress pinched her upper arms in a vicelike grip and tugged in the opposite direction.
'No! Let go of me!' begged Olivia.
'You let go of that desk! Do as I tell you!'
'Please, I want to see the Abbess!'
Both females were panting and heaving as they pulled to and fro. A stack of four large volumes wobbled precariously on the corner of the desk, and as Olivia's hip slammed against the wooden edge they toppled onto the floor with a loud thump, and lay in twisted and folded disarray.
'Look what you've done, you slut!'
'I'm sorry!' protested Olivia.
'No one sees the Abbess - except by invitation! It's one of the rules!' The Mistress prepared for one last haul to dislodge the little vixen from the desk.
'But I'm not part of your rules!' Olivia anticipated the final assault and let go of the sturdy furniture. With a shriek and a flurry of limbs they both toppled to the stone floor. The older woman's glasses flew off her nose and Olivia kicked them under the desk. While the Mistress floundered about in search of them Olivia nimbly jumped to her feet and bolted through the nearest door. She found herself in another cold corridor with more doors leading off it. The whole horrible place was a labyrinth of passages and flights of echoing steps. Olivia's instincts told her to head for the chapel where the Abbess was certain to be; but how to get there? She descended some steps. They kept taking her down. She considered going back, but the Mistress would be waiting, and besides, she would surely reach the bottom soon. The walls became darker and more grimy as she descended. Underfoot the steps were slippery with mould. Water dripped and echoed from the ghostly shadows. She must have gone too far. Her senses told her she was underground.
She eventually, and with not a little relief, reached a passageway. The only faint shafts of light came from gratings overhead. At the end of the passage she found a door. It was so small she had to stoop low to pass through. As she straightened and peered around the room in which she found herself the door slammed behind her.
'Now,' said the Mistress, 'if you have finished your fun and games, we can get on with the tiresome business of teaching you some manners.'
Olivia was speechless. She backed away from the Mistress. There was only one door into the room, the one she had just come through, and it would have been impossible for the Mistress to have overtaken her between the scriptorium and here. 'But - but how did you get here ahead of me?' she blurted.
'You have much to learn, Miss Holland. Finding your way around the convent is only one of them. Learning not to go poking about in things that do not concern you is another. Now, kindly take off your habit.'
Olivia had a snap decision to make. She could show defiance, and risk making things worse for herself, and perhaps even find herself imprisoned, or she could comply and hope to appeal to the compassionate side of these women and maybe even find an opportunity to escape. She decided the latter course would be the more prudent. 'Is this another of your strange rituals?' she asked meekly as she pulled the habit over her head.
'Do not question my religion.' There was no longer anger in her tone.
'What sort of religion is this?'
'That's what I'm here to teach you.'
'I don't want to be taught anything. I'd rather go and see the Abbess.'
'She won't see you, so please do as I say.' The Mistress took off her glasses and wiped them on a handkerchief, before balancing them on the end of her nose once again. She patted her bun and smoothed down her habit. Everything she did was studied, as precise as the workings of a watch. Her movements were smooth and her air authoritative, and Olivia found herself relaxing slightly.
'Stand in the middle of the floor, Miss Holland, and put your right hand out in front of you.'
Olivia obeyed.
'Thank you.'
A chain that Olivia hadn't before paid any attention to hung from the ceiling just above her. The Mistress reached up, pulled it down, and fitted the manacle at its end around the tentatively offered wrist. She locked it and then put the key in her pocket. Leaving Olivia for a moment, she went to a corner of the small room and huddled over. Olivia tugged experimentally on the chain and her wary eyes followed its course up to the ceiling where it passed over a pulley and then down to a drum where it wrapped round and round. On the drum was a handle which the Mistress began to slowly turn, drawing the chain through the pulley and lifting Olivia's hand high above her head until her arm was fully stretched and she was straining uncomfortably on tiptoe. When satisfied, the Mistress locked the handle with a peg so it couldn't unwind.
'Ooh, please,' Olivia sobbed. 'You're hurting me.'
The Mistress checked her handiwork with the satisfied look of an expert who knows she's done her work well. 'Stop complaining. A little time alone to consider your misdeeds will do you nothing but good.'
'But—'
'I'm just going to tidy the scriptorium, after your silly little tantrum just now.'
'But you can't leave me here like this!'
The door slammed and Olivia was left alone in the cold and gloomy silence. The manacle cut into her wrist and her calves already burned.
'Please! Come back! Don't leave me!'
The pain spread excruciatingly through her body. It crept up her calves and thighs, burned its way through her tensed buttocks, and up her arched spine. There it fused with the agony numbing her shoulders and back. How long would she be left like this? Whatever happened, she must not lose consciousness...
'Well now, let's have a look at you.'
Olivia's head stirred from her chest. Her whole body was numb. She watched drowsily the Mistress pat and stroke her thighs, feeling the tension in her iron-hard muscles.
'We shall have to do something to ease your discomfort,' Olivia heard, and then felt a soothing ointment being massaged into her stiff limbs. 'Does that feel better?'
'Yes,' Olivia managed. 'Thank you.' She was feeling confused by the two contrasting moods of cruelty and kindness shown by the Mistress. The fingertips rubbing in gentle circles against her temples felt good.
'I must soon take you to the punishment chamber.'
'Must you?'
'Yes,' said the Mistress firmly. 'You were wrong to enter the scriptorium, and having violated our sacred place your behaviour was then quite unforgivable. You must therefore suffer the consequences.'
Olivia whimpered. 'Please let me down.'
'You are a disobedient young lady,' the Mistress continued. 'And disobedience will not be tolerated.'
'I didn't want to come here,' protested Olivia. 'I wouldn't have if I hadn't been in such need.'
'Clearly your need is for correction' The Mistress licked her lips with a strange look in her eyes. She held Olivia around the waist and reached up to unlock the manacle. But first we'll just get your blood flowing again.'
The manacle sprang open and Olivia slumped against the warmth of the nun. Her arm flopped uselessly and her legs failed her. The Mistress lowered her to the dusty floor, knelt beside her and cradled her in her arms. Olivia buried her face into the safety of the dark habit.
'There, there, child - no need for tears. Once they've finished with you in the punishment chamber I shall see that you are taken to the infirmary. There the herbalist will take good care of you.'
'Why am I being treated like this?' Olivia sobbed. 'I thought convents were supposed to be places of sanctuary, and that nuns are kind and gentle souls, devoted to prayer. But so far I've seen in this place nothing but cruelty.'
'True, but the cruelty is not without purpose. Look upon each punishment you undergo as a step closer to the completion of your Novitiate. Your submission to the whip and your survival of it will prove you are worthy of admission.'
'Admission to what?'
'Why, to our order of course. It is a privilege granted only to the lucky few.'
'But I don't want to join your order. I want to go—'
'Enough of this.' There was sufficient threat in the tone of the Mistress for Olivia to take heed. 'Cease your foolish chatter and rest awhile.'
She cradled Olivia's head into her breasts, and Olivia allowed the reassuring closeness to ease her anguish. Her limbs were rapidly recovering, and she slowly began to feel better. She closed her eyes and enjoyed the fingers stroking her brow. Material rustled. Olivia felt soft flesh against her cheek, and breathed the delicate scent of the Mistress. A hand cupped the back of her head and guided it down until a nipple brushed across her lips. She willingly opened her mouth and sucked as the erect bud was fed inside. She heard a soft moan and the nipple twitched as she gently grazed it with her teeth.
'Suck me,' the Mistress whispered. 'My breast will soothe away all your troubles.'
It was true; the nipple seemed to bring a restfulness she had not known for a long while. Her body relaxed totally as the Mistress rocked gently back and forth.
'Oh yes, my little one,' she purred. 'That's right, suck me. Suck as hard as you like. Soothe away your troubles.'
The nipple pulsed between Olivia's lips as she sucked hungrily. The whole breast quivered. Olivia could feel and hear the nun's heart pounding. Her breathing became deeper. Her chest rose and fell in a steady and rhythmic swell against her cheek.
'Oh that's beautiful. Go on, my little one. Don't stop. Oh, oh, yesss...' The Mistress choked back a sob and clutched Olivia's head ever closer to her breast.
Excitement was awakening in the pit of Olivia's stomach too. It was impossible to ignore the huskily aroused voice close to her ear, and the delicious nipple in her mouth. She couldn't resist cupping the firm breast and giving it a gentle squeeze. The Mistress responded with a plaintive cry and slipped a hand between Olivia's legs. 'Oh, you're so wet,' she panted. 'I can feel how wet you are.' Her accomplished fingers slipped to and fro across Olivia's labia, coaxing forth her juices and making them flow. Olivia moaned and sucked even harder on the nipple, devouring as much of the breast as she could.
'Yes, just like that,' the Mistress encouraged. 'That feels so good. You're very clever.'
Olivia suckled like a child. The gentle coaxing of the Mistress and the clever fingers between her legs fuelled her own mounting pleasure. 'Oh,' the nipple plopped from between her succulent lips, 'I'm coming.'
The Mistress shuddered and fed her other breast into Olivia's willing mouth. 'You mustn't come yet,' she moaned, running her trembling fingers through Olivia's tumbling hair.
'I - I'll try not to,' she managed to mumble around the nipple.
They were suddenly all fingers and tongues, frantically sucking and probing at each other. Their juices flowed. Olivia fumbled and searched beneath the black habit and rubbed between the older woman's thighs. She felt beautifully light-headed, warm and safe.
'It always makes me feel like this,' panted the Mistress. Suddenly her whole body gave a colossal shudder. Her arms and legs went rigid as she reached her orgasm. She threw back her head and cried with delight. Olivia followed her with a subdued whimper and slumped against her bosom, her head buried in the sweet smelling cleavage.
'Leave your hand where it is,' the Mistress told her when she started to withdraw.
Olivia obeyed, feeling too mellow to do otherwise. The Mistress returned the compliment, and together they remained locked in fond embrace, quietly moving their fingers to and fro, prolonging each other's pleasure.
'Was that part of your rituals?' Olivia whispered sweetly.
The Mistress stroked her hair affectionately. 'Shhh, rest awhile. Soon I shall have to take you to the punishment chamber.'
'Do you really have to? Couldn't I stay with you? I don't want to be punished.'
'That's impossible.'
Olivia looked up into her eyes. 'Why?'
'Because I have to do my duty and see that you receive your correction.' Her voice seemed genuinely sad, the words spoken reluctantly.
'Do I really deserve to be punished?'
'You do. And if the Abbess discovered you had not received the appropriate chastisement she would have me take your place, and I would suffer much more severely then you ever will.'
'Perhaps if I spoke to her and explained,' Olivia offered optimistically.
'There is nothing to explain. You were caught in the scriptorium, and that is enough. If she learned that you also defied me the punishment would be much worse.'
'So I am to be whipped, like that nun in the chapel?'
The Mistress went strangely quiet before answering. 'You are.'
Olivia could sense the disconcerting mood returning to the cold room. The fingers disappeared from between her legs. 'Who will punish me?' she asked fearfully.
'That is not for me to say.' The Mistress stood and straightened her habit; her composure and air of authority restored. 'Come along,' she said tartly, 'they're waiting.'
Olivia rose and put her habit back on. She was suddenly filled with resolve. Tomorrow would be her third day in this place, and she made up her mind it would definitely be her last. She would let these spiteful women whip her if they must; it would probably be no worse than she had experienced before; a vindictive warning not to go nosing in places where she had no business. They could keep their silly old books and weird paintings. Olivia had an idea. 'Do you promise to see they take me to the infirmary afterwards?' she asked.
The Mistress nodded. 'I promise.'
Olivia brightened a little; some time in the infirmary would give her a chance to devise an escape. Already a plan was forming in her head. It would come to fruition while she lay quietly in her bed. Hospitals were ideal places to bide ones time. She had done that in the House of Correction; stalling, pretending to be much sicker than she really was.
'Then I am ready.' She took a deep breath and moved toward the door like a convicted criminal taking her last walk to the gallows.