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"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."
"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?"
"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.