MSL-05 Forgive Me Father


FOREWORD

There was darkness for a long time, and the chained girl tried to see if she could make out 
anything. She could feel the cold wall on her naked back and buttocks, could feel cold air 
blowing over her entire body, whipping across her nipples and making them stiff for some 
reason.

She could feel an itch on her leg and tried to scratch it. That was when she felt the cutting 
of the leg clamps around her ankles, and she yelled out in pain.

Then there were footsteps. The girl looked over in the direction from where they were 
coming, and suddenly, she was blinded by a light as a door creaked open. She could see the 
Mother Superior in her black cloak and habit, walking closer to her.

Anise thought that what the old woman held was a flaming candle, for she was using it to 
guide her way closer to the tied blonde girl.

"Please," she said to the woman, thinking the nun would be kind, "what am I doing here? 
Please, help me out."

The nun moved closer, a hideous stare on her face. It was only then that Anise saw the 
candle was no candle at all, but rather, a phallus on fire.

"You will pay for your sins to God," the nun screeched, and Anise could feel the flaming 
phallus moving closer to her spread legs, and by the time it was inside of her she was 
screaming louder than ever before in her life...

* * *

This diary is all true, each pain-staking word.

It was a document written by a young girl during the Spanish Inquisition, a young girl sent 
to be raised by the nuns after her mother had run away. Her father thought that it would all 
be for his child's own good.

Little did he know of the horrors and tortures that were to befall his young daughter, and 
it was only with the aid of two boys who would bring her paper that she was able to write this 
document, presented to her father by the boys a few days after his daughter's suicide in the 
dungeon of the convent.

The material presented here could not be published back then when the old man still 
lived. He would have died a heretic. But it can be presented today, each word as written by the
young, suffering Anise...


CHAPTER ONE

Forgive me, Father...

Forgive me for feeling the way that I do about you right now, but the pain still lingers 
through my flesh even as l move the pen over the paper. But I know that I must write this all 
down while it still stays in my memory, and I only pray to God whom I am even beginning to 
question now, that the nuns here do not find this, never lay eyes on it. I fear for my life. The 
abuse they have inflicted thus far has been brutal enough and I know they would be mad to 
see my thoughts written on paper.

I am thankful to the two boys, the servants of the nuns. They have taken risks themselves 
in bringing the paper and pen to me. but I have promised them that if I am discovered I will 
never tell where I got it. For even as the two of them were dragging me back from the 
dungeon, taking my arms out of the manacles that had held me up for countless hours, 
dragging me through the halls to this singly-candle lit room. I could feel their sympathy 
ebbing out.

We are sorry for what happened to you." the black haired boy said to me.

"Are you?" I had asked him. a bit sarcastically, because I could even feel the way he was 
trying to massage my naked breast. I was only covered with tattered remnants of clothes, and 
it seemed to me that the two boys, after being unleashed on me by the nuns seemed to take 
great pleasure in having me.

"Yes," he said. "We have had carnal relations with other girls here, at the nun's bidding, but
never before have we seen abuse inflicted like they did to you."

"Never before?" I asked because I had seen other girls in the dungeon beside me.

"Well," he started to say, and that was enough to convince me.

"I only have one hope," I said to him then, barely able to stand from pure physical 
exhaustion, and the welts on my feet from the burning stake. "Only one hope."

"You will never get away," the other boy, fair eyed and brown haired, said.

"I know that," I panted. "I know that there is no way out of here. But there is one salvation. 
Can you get me paper? Can you get me a pencil? I must write down everything that happened
to me, I must keep accurate notes so that one day the world can know, so that other girls will 
not be sent here under the same pretenses that I was sent here for. I must save those who can
still be saved."

"Ha," the brown-haired boy said. "We seem to have a martyr on our hands here. She must 
think that she is Joan of Lorraine or something."

He was making references to Joan, the peasant girl who led fighting forces through France
to reunite her country under the liege of King Charles. In some ways I did feel close to the girl,
although our causes seem to be different. Joan was trying to bring her country together while 
I am trying to expose this hypocrisy that is so deeply imbedded here behind these church 
walls.

After all, I was placed here to be good and pure, to learn about saintliness and to learn of 
God's wishes. Nothing like that has happened yet. The only thing that I have yet learned of is 
the pain of physical abuse.

So when the brown-haired boy said that, I forced a smile.

"Not so," I told him. "A martyr might chose to die, and that is what makes her the martyr. 
But I will not chose to die. I feel that death is imminent, that it will come to me soon. I feel that
I will not be able to take much more of this abuse. My body can only stand so much. I just 
have to record it all."

And that is why I am able to sit here writing this all down. Father, and I hope that one day 
this document will reach your hands and you will learn of the situation you have thrust me 
into, learn of the things that they have done to me here, for I do fear that I will never see you 
again before I die. Five years is a long time and I know that my spirit will not keep me going 
long enough to make it through.

But I do forgive you. I know that had you been aware of the abuse they carry out here you 
would never have subjected me to it. I do know that you only wanted the best for me and that
is why you have sent me here.

With good enough reason.

For it comes back to me now, the first time I saw mother engaging in carnal sin with 
another man. I remember that you were out working in the field, trying to make some money 
so that we could eat. I remember having nothing to do with myself, thinking that maybe I 
would be able to go find Elizabeth and walk with her to town. So I decided to go in and tell 
mother where I was going.

I walked into the house slowly, and I could hear a noise coming from the bedroom. I 
walked down the narrow hall and could see that the thick wooden door was ajar. I must have 
been ten at the time but I knew that they were engaging in carnal intercourse, mother and 
that man, that tradesman. I had forgotten his even coming to the house to sell some pots. I 
remembered his going inside to talk with mother and her sending me out. but that had been 
almost a half an hour before. I thought that he would have been gone by the time.

He and mother were lying in the bed naked and I could see her large breasts. Her thick red
nipples looked so hard and stiff, and the man was moving his fingers over them, pulling at 
them and twisting them. She was running her fingers through the thick black hair of his chest, 
down between his legs, and I noticed the way she lovingly stroked his manhood, fierce and 
stiff. The hard penis amazed me then for I could tell that her touching it seemed to put the 
man completely in her control. I did not understand it all then, the way a penis works.

I have since, within the past three days, learned things that I was sent here to learn to be 
pure against. I have experienced the wrath of hard penises and other phallic shaped objects 
ripping away my skin.

"Are you sure that your husband will not be back for some time?" he asked her.

"Quite sure."

And with that assurance, he began to climb on top of her. I could see him moving his 
mouth down to her nipple and beginning to lick it. He was moving his tight ass up and down 
on her leg, and mother had her head thrown back, her mouth open. She was purring softly 
and moving her hands up and down his back and his ass. Her red hair was strewn out on the 
pillow and the man was moving his hand down her legs. I could see her spreading them and 
then he was starting to rub her red pubic triangle.

"Fuck me," she said to him.

He began to move his fingers to her spread cunt and he was sliding them in easily enough.
I could see her pushing her ass up off the bed and his hand just seemed to disappear inside of
her. He was moving his fingers in and out of her faster and faster, and it was only then that I 
noticed the sweat all over both their bodies. There was a fire in the fireplace and I could see 
their bodies glistening. The hairy' man continued to kiss her nipples, moving from one breast 
to the other, and then, after a few minutes, he began to kiss his way down her belly.

I watched with intrigue and fascination, and even a bit of fear (because I knew what you 
would do to them both if you came back and found them, father) as he slid off the bed 
moving his mouth between her legs. He slipped his two hands under her buttocks and then 
he was beginning to move his tongue in and out of her. She seemed to go wild then, her 
whole body contorting and I saw her moving her fingers to her own breasts and beginning to 
pull hard on her nipples.

"Deeper, deeper," she was moaning.

And I think that's just what he did, digging his tongue in deeper between the folds of her 
flesh. He was beginning to groan a little, too, and then mother arched her ass up off the bed 
and seemed to keep it that way for a few fleeting seconds as he continued to lick and kiss her 
there.

Of course I did not know exactly what he was doing to her then, although I did realize that
it was some kind of a carnal act. I knew even then that she was going to be making a cuckold 
of you, father, and since I loved you so much I pitied you for it. I knew how humiliating it was 
for a man to be made a cuckold by his wife.

After a few more minutes, the man began to kiss his way up mother's body again, actually 
sticking his tongue out and running it all the way up her belly, over her breasts, until he was 
kissing her again. But this time I could see him raising his backside off her and his hard penis 
was beginning to move between her legs. He rubbed himself over the slit there, and then he 
was sinking down. I did not actually see his penis sinking into her vagina from where I was 
standing, but I know that's where it went. And once I heard the sound of flesh slapping 
against flesh, it seemed like they were totally lost in what they were doing.

I watched, still mystified, as he began to move his ass up and down on top of her. I could 
see his penis between his legs when his buttocks were raised, and there seemed to be a 
glistening coat of moisture over it. They were both sweating even more then, moaning and 
saying things to each other, things that I could barely hear but still strained to listen to.

"I love it hard," she was saying to him.

"How hard?"

"Force it into me. Slam it into me. Make my flesh feel the wrath and fury of your pounding 
meat inside of me. Hurt me."

I couldn't believe that mother was saying all these things. And now that I have actually 
suffered hurt, I cannot see why anyone would beg for it. But he started to pump into her 
harder and harder, and it seemed to me that he was hurting her. I saw his hands moving over 
her breasts and he was pinching her nipples hard then, pulling at them, grasping them firmly 
between his fingers and twisting them, turning them.

I have suffered abuse like that, only hours ago.

Yet mother seemed to love it. She was panting hard, passionately, and that only seemed to
make the black-haired man continue on her.

"My husband never does it to me like this," she was saying to him.

I know that you couldn't, Father. I know that you do not have the power in you to hurt a 
person. I wish that you would come and save me before I can be hurt again, but I know I only 
hope in vain. But I do believe that you never would have sent me here if you had known what 
was going to happen to me. I know that you are a peaceful and gentle man in your heart.

When mother and the man were finished, when I saw his whole body seem to stiffen and 
the last final thrusts before he emptied his seed into her (at the time I did not know anything 
like that was happening, but within the last three days I have felt many loads of seed being 
shot into me, so I realize that is what happened to mother then) he rolled off her and lay 
there.

I coughed. I had been trying to suppress it throughout the last few seconds of their coital 
act, and it finally came out.

"Anise," mother had said, looking over and spotting me by the door. "Anise, you come in 
here this instant."

There was anger in her voice, then, fear in mine. I stepped into the room. The naked 
sweaty man made no move to cover himself and I could see his penis, now limp and smaller 
than before, lying peacefully against his leg. I noticed the two large balls that he had in the 
skinned sack there, and in some ways I will never forget that first fascination with the testicles.

"What were you doing out there?" mother demanded.

"Nothing," I stammered. "I was just coming in to talk to you and... "

"She's only a little girl," the man said, and he leaned over and stroked my soft blonde hair. 
He moved his hand to my breasts, my small breasts, and started to fondle them through my 
blouse.

"No," my mother said, hitting him in the backside. "Leave her be."

And he did. But you see Father, when the nuns asked you if I was pure, when they asked 
you that question before taking me in, I thought that somehow they would know, somehow 
they would know from God that I had not been pure. That man had fondled my breasts for a 
few seconds, and in that way I wasn't pure.

"You must never tell your father what you saw here," she said to me. It was a command 
that I obeyed forever, up until this point as I write it down in the hopes that you will read it 
one day. For I know that when mother did run off, you felt a tremendous loss even though 
you were aware of her cheating and deceit. I hope that you don't feel the loss as well now that
you are reading this, now that you have learned that mother was unfaithful to you from 
someone who witnessed it.

I do not know how you ever found out about it.

But there were other scenes that I did witness with her, scenes that I feel you should know 
about now. Once, when I was nine years old, two tradesmen came to see mother. They were 
selling cloth for dresses, and they had many samples with them. Mother told them to come in 
and she sent me outside. However, I knew what she was going to be doing with these men, so
I did leave but stayed near the window in order to see and hear what she was saying to them.

"I wish that I could afford to buy some of these fabrics," she said, holding up the smooth 
silk and rubbing it over her cheek. "It is so soft and I know that it would feel so nice on me. 
Alas, my husband is poor and we have no money."

One of the men had blond hair. He was tall and thick, thick arms and neck, broad 
shoulders. He moved next to mother and stroked her soft hair.

"And what, fair lady, would you do if I told you that these fabrics do not have a monetary 
price? What if I told you they could be bought in other ways?"

"I would wonder about the ways that you meant," mother said to the man.

"I am sure that you would," the other man, with darker hair, said to her.

I noticed the way they both moved closer to mother at the time, almost surrounding her, 
threateningly. But mother seemed to like that because she was smiling at them. It was only 
when I moved and glanced from another angle that I saw mother moving her hands near the 
men's legs. As each man stood to one side of her she was slowly moving her hand up their leg
until she was right at their crotches. She kept her hands there and began to squeeze slowly.

"I begin to understand the price," mother said.

"But first," the blond man said to her, "you must let us know. Will your husband be coming
back shortly?"

"Not for some time," she said.

It was only then that the blond man lifted mother off the seat. He turned her toward him 
and moved his lips to hers. As they embraced the dark haired man pressed his body against 
mother's from behind. Their bodies were grinding together and I noticed hands moving down
to mother's skirt and beginning to lift it up, first showing her knees, her thighs, and then being
lifted up over her waist.

She wore no panties and the black haired man began to massage her buttocks. The blond 
man was moving his fingers to her cunt and she was purring softly as he started to slide them 
in and out.

There is only one reason why I go into so much detail here, Father. It is because I know the
guilt you felt at having scorned your wife, guilt because you only suspected her of doing these
adulterous things while never really having any proof. These words are from your daughter's 
mouth. I witnessed it all, and it should be proof enough for you to purge yourself of that guilt 
and believe that what you said to her, how you felt about her in the end was a right you 
deserved.

A few moments later, they were lifting mother's dress off completely and I watched as the 
probing hands, four of them, began to explore her body everywhere. Mother was still kissing 
the blond man, opening and closing her mouth and moving her hands to his loose fitting 
shirt. She began to open the cord that held it tied, then began to lift it off his shoulders. She 
rubbed her naked breasts against his naked chest and after a few seconds I could see how stiff
her nipples were. Meanwhile, the black haired man was beginning to undress himself. I saw 
the hairy curls on his chest when he lifted off his shirt, then saw the hair on his legs as he 
stepped out of his pants. I could see how long and hard his cock was, and it is still the largest 
one I have ever seen. After he was naked he started to rub his body against mother's once 
more. I saw the way he held his penis in his hand and began to rub it over the soft folds of 
mother's buttocks.

She started to move her ass, almost as if she was accepting him. He began to pry the thick 
head of his manhood between her buttocks, separating them. It was only then that she turned
around and saw his enormous size.

She started to tremble. The blond man was just taking off his pants and from the looks of 
it, his penis was just as big.

"The price is too high," mother began to say, trying to get away from the men.

"You have agreed to pay."

They were moving closer to her, their arms trapping her. She struggled to break free of 
their grips, but it seemed hopeless. I watched as the blond man bent mother forward, moving 
her head toward his large throbbing organ. Meanwhile the black haired man was beginning to
rub his penis near mother's ass. And I could see the pained look on her face as he sunk 
himself deep into her, hear the squeal coming from her. It reminded me of the frustrating 
squeal of a pig as the blade falls on the squirming animal to end his life and make him a meal.

It seemed that in some ways, mother was being made a meal for these two men. The black
haired man began to move in and out of mother faster and faster, and her mouth was being 
drawn right next to the blond's penis then.

"You know what to do," he said to her.

When mother didn't open her mouth, he hit her in a vicious manner, across the face. It was
only then that she opened her mouth and he started to slide his thick manhood into her. I saw
him force his way in deep, until I could no longer see his organ at all. I saw her nose buried in 
the thick blond hair above his penis and it seemed to me that she was gasping for breath, 
being held against her will.

Or so it seemed for the moment.

The man started to move in and out of mother's mouth, and he was throwing his head 
back and moaning with ecstasy. At first mother continued to put up the struggle, but then, all 
of a sudden, she changed. She started to move her body slowly, sensuously, and I watched as 
her dangling hands began to move. One of them moved up to the blond man's thick balls and
she cupped them and squeezed them in her hand. The other moved to his buttocks and I 
watched the way she ran her hands over his sweaty flesh, rubbing it hard. It seemed to 
increase his pleasure.

The black haired man was still thrusting into mother's ass, and after a few more minutes I 
saw the way she was moving it around then, as if she was loving it all. He moved his fingers to 
the front of her body and I watched as they began to slide into her vagina. The minute that 
happened mother's whole body seemed to contort and I watched as she broke out into a 
fierce sweat.

They were all sweating, as was I, I seem to remember. I was sweating because I feared your
arriving home and seeing all this, Father.

I knew that your anger would increase, but I also knew that those two men were vicious 
and they would try to hurt you if you were to walk in.

After a few mere minutes, the blond man started to tense up and I could actually see the 
white cream dripping out of mother's mouth. I don't know if she was swallowing some and 
there was just too much, or if she was spitting it out. I think that the blond man didn't know 
either because he started to hit her again, this time on the back.

"Drink it all," he said, and after that no more dripped out of the side of her mouth.

I have drunk some already, Father, I must confess. I have drunk the seed of the two boys 
who helped me here. I have drunk the juice of one of the nuns as I was forced between her 
legs, a burning stake moving closer and closer to my cunt in the threat of actual contact were I
not to bring the nun to a satisfying end. Believe me, I did, but I do not say it proudly. I only say
it because it is so.

The two men continued to use mother that day, for almost an hour. I remember that after 
the second one came inside of mother's ass, he pulled out. He started to sink down to his 
knees and was soon moving his lips to mother's vagina, beginning to lick her and drink her 
juice. The blond man caressed her buttocks the whole time, holding her tight and sometimes 
digging his nails into her because her legs were buckling, either tram pain or pleasure, and 
she was sinking to her knees every so often. He would then dig his nails into her fleshy 
backside and lift her back up.

I am surprised that you did not notice the scratch marks. Father. Or did you? Was that how
you knew you had been a cuckold?

Later, there was a part that I would never forget because it seemed brutal at the time, even
though they all seemed to be moaning and sweating with pleasure. It seemed brutal at the 
time, and now I know that it is brutal because it has Happened to me.

I know it had to be brutal because the boys who did it to me were only boys, fifteen the 
oldest, and their penises were not as large as the two that were going into mother, not as 
long or as thick, and certainly not as menacing.

No, mother was brutalized, but she still seemed to love it.

It happened at one point where the black haired man lay back on the kitchen table. On 
our thick wooden kitchen table. I remember that I couldn't eat there for the longest time 
because my stomach would turn each time that I thought of what I had seen having 
happened right where I was sitting, eating my food. The black haired man lay back, his cock 
hard once again and pointing straight up in the air like the tall steeple of the nearby 
monetary.

Mother was straddled over him, and they were forcing her legs wide open. She was slowly 
lowered down and the man's cock slid up her vagina, moving deep inside of her until she was 
sitting on him. He slid his way down the table so that his legs were hanging off, so that his ass 
was just hanging on. Then, the blond haired man moved closer to mother and I watched with 
horror as I saw him-moving his stiffened bronze tool into mother's ass at the same time that 
the first man was working her cunt.

At first I was looking at mother's face to see if the expected pained expression would 
come, and at first, it seemed as if that was where she was going, looking more and more 
pained as the blond man slid deeper into her. But then, once he was in, I noticed a 
tremendous change. She didn't look pained anymore. I could see her beginning to smile, and 
then, she was reaching for the black haired man's thick hands and bringing them up to her 
nipples. He started to pinch and pull at them, and I watched as mother's tongue slowly 
slithered out of her mouth and started to lick her lips.

The two men were laughing and swearing. I am sure that it was the best time they had had
in months. All three bodies seemed to move as one, and at one point the blond man moved 
his hand around to mother's cunt where his friend's cock was going. He spread mother's lips 
and started to pinch and massage her clitoris. I could see her whole body going through a. 
series of wild spasms and she started yelling out, moaning loud, a hideous yell that I could not
decipher.

Still I wondered if it was because of her pain or her pleasure.

When it was all through, when the men had obviously unloaded themselves inside of her, 
their organs going limp because of the sheer physical exhaustion, they started to dress. 
Mother lay naked on the table, her legs spread wide, and believe me Father when I tell you 
that she began to masturbate herself, began to move her fingers down to her own slit and 
begin to massage herself. The two men stood by fascinated, and I'm sure they were 
wondering the same thing that I was.

Hadn't she had enough, or was her urge insatiable?

I am sure, my dear Father, that you knew the answer to that question a long time before 
you finally unleashed your anger on mother. I am sure that you knew now, but you were only 
remaining quiet because you might have loved her or might have wanted to keep our family 
together. I am sure that is why you did not strike her as much as you felt you should have 
when you finally confronted her with her lascivious deeds some time later.

But I will never forget that day. as I am sure you will not. I will never forget it because not 
only did I see what you did to her, but I also witnessed the crime of the day before you came 
home, the adulterous crime.

I witnessed the two men using her, and I even saw the way they hit her before they were 
getting ready to leave. Because as they' were packing themselves up, they picked up the cloth 
fabric that they had promised to mother.

"Where are you taking that?" she asked them, coming out of her orgasm.

"With us, woman, the blond man said.

She stood up and grabbed the end of it that was trailing on the floor. She started to pull at
it.

"But it is mine," she screamed at the man. "I have paid your price. You said that there was a
price, and I have paid it. The fabric is mine."

The black haired man was moving behind mother, and I watched as he grabbed her arm 
and pulled it behind her back. He twisted it, gripping her hard. I watched the look of surprise 
come to her face, watched her naked breasts tremble.

"Drop it, woman," he said to her.

Mother continued to hold onto it for a few seconds more, and the man was twisting her 
arm.

Finally, she just seemed to relent and let it drop to the floor. Immediately, the man pulled 
her other arm around and held them both behind her back. She seemed so totally helpless.

The blond man rolled up the fabric, then walked over to mother. He pulled her head up, 
wrenching at her thick red hair, and he spit out his words into her face.

"Did you think that we were really going to leave this here?" he screamed. "Did you think 
that we would give valuable fabric to some cheap whore because she put herself out for us? 
What would we have to offer the other whores if we were to leave this here with you?"

"But it's mine," she said, her voice wavering. "You said so."

Suddenly, the blond man pulled his strong arm back and slapped mother across the face. I
saw the way her neck wrenched and feared that it might have snapped. But then her head fell 
and she was still breathing, and the blond man pulled her head up again by the hair and 
looked at her face once more.

"Do you not understand Spanish woman?" the man said. "I have already explained that we 
will not be leaving the fabric here."

Mother spit at him. I watched the thick saliva shoot out of her mouth and hit the man right
on his forehead. I watched it starting to drip down, thick and slimy looking, almost as ugly as 
the cream I had seen dripping out of mother's mouth the first time he had come in there.

The man was infuriated. He pulled his hand back and smashed her across the face again 
and again, and then, when he thought she had enough he moved his hand down to the thick 
red curls between her legs. I watched as his thumb and forefinger pulled at a tuft of hair, 
watched the agonized look in mother's face, watched the hair ripping out into his fingers, and 
then his friend letting go of mother. She sunk to her knees, her hand moving to her face to 
hide her pained tears.

"A remembrance to you my friend," the blond man said to the black haired man, and he 
handed him some of mother's hair. The two of them walked out of the house then, with the 
fabric, and they were both laughing. I hid on one side of the house so that they wouldn't see 
me there, and I watched them run down the road.

Then I ran off to the field. I did not want to be alone with mother. I did not want her 
knowing I had been anywhere near the house.

My hand can barely hold the pen as I write now because my body is still pained. The 
candle is beginning to flicker, it is almost burned out, and the light by which I have to write 
grows dimmer and dimmer. I hope that my handwriting is still legible enough for you, Father. I
hope that I am not writing these words in vain and that you will one day not only have them, 
but be able to decipher my wretched writing.

I am glad that you sent me to school, educated me. It has always helped me get by in 
many ways. It is helping me get by now, helping me try to understand some of the ways of 
people, ways still strange to me.

Why a person would want to inflict pain on someone else? What possible pleasure could 
one get watching another suffer?

They taught me many things in school, Father, but that is the question I now ask. But there
is no teacher here to answer this question of mine, and I wonder if I will remain in the dark 
about it until I die. Or if, when they are torturing me again, as I am sure they soon will do, I will
come to understand it better. If as I watch their faces, I will come to understand why there is 
no look of empathy, of sadness, of suffering as they see me suffer, but only a calm, 
complacent look, and sometimes, God it is even so dreadful to think of, a total look of 
satisfaction.

I remember finally arriving home that day, wondering if, when I got there, mother would 
be dressed, whether her wounds would be taken care of, the bruises and the welts I had seen 
growing from her face after the man's physical abuse. And that is when I heard the sound of 
your voice, yelling. I crawled up to the window again. It seemed to be my only sanctuary then.

I peered in, and I could see you standing over mother.

She was crying, I could tell, her hair tattered. Her dress was tom and I could see some of 
the bruises on her buttocks.

"You are a whore," he said to her.

"Do not say that," she screamed at him, her words muffled by her tears and her hands 
which were in front of her face.

"You fornicating bitch. How many other times have you done it before?"

"Never," she screamed.

Maybe you believed her then, Father, but we both know it to be a lie now. You can read 
what I have written and you will know that it had happened many times before your ultimate 
discovery.

"And how many times did it happen today?

Look at you, woman. Your skin is torn, your face bruised, your body used. You disgust me.

"Don't say that," she was crying.

"What can I say? Do I sleep in the same bed with you any longer? Do I fornicate with you 
any longer, knowing that others have violated you? Do I trust you any longer, knowing that 
any time I go out you might have someone in?"

"You can trust me," she cried out to him. "You can trust me."

I could see the hurt in your face then Father. I remember that you wanted to hit her. I 
could see the way you were pulling your arm back, getting ready to smash her in the face. She
was still crying, so she did not see how it hurt you to even make the attempt, but I did. I saw 
the way you agonized over whether to let that fist fly or whether to control yourself, and 
finally, after pain-staking minutes, you seemed to have decided on control. Your arm fell to 
your side.

"I will leave if you want me to," mother said to you.

And that is when you got down on your knees, lifted her chin up and looked her lovingly 
in the eyes. It was the most tender moment I have to remember between the two of you, 
father, at least for you, I knew that she would fornicate with other men when you were gone 
again, but you seemed to trust her then, and it was kind of you.

"I don't want you to go," you said, brushing her hair from her face. "I don't want you ever 
to go. I only wish that you would be faithful to me, that you would love me the way that I have
loved you."

"I will, my lord," she said to you then.

And you kissed her, Father, you kissed her. I saw your love flowing into her and I knew that
you were happy then.

The candle grows dimmer still, I hardly see what I write now, my eyes strain to make sure 
that each letter is legible, and as a result I write slower, write bigger so that you will able to 
make out the letters.

Please be able to make out the letter. Please.

It was a happy time then, Father, for all of us. I remember leaving the house for about an 
hour, and when I came back you and mother were both sitting in the kitchen waiting for me. 
Mother had been saving dinner for me, and the three of us sat there and ate. You and mother 
would give each other such tender looks, and I somehow felt that things would once again be 
as they were.

You were always a kind man. Father, and I do forgive you for sending me here. You 
thought that I would grow up good and pure, thought that was the way they would train me 
and that I can not fault.

The candle just went out and I no longer see.

How are you to know of the vile abuse your loved little girl would have to endure at the 
hands of the crazed nun who rules with a whip.





CHAPTER TWO


The two boys found me lying here in the darkness. They came to bring me a tray with a stale 
roll and some milk. When they saw me lying here, they shone the candle in my face. I opened 
my eyes immediately and looked up at them.

"You little bitch," the black haired one said to me.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"You promised us that if we were to bring you the paper you would keep it hidden, and in 
we walk and see it strewn all over the floor. I could kill you."

He raised his hand to hit me and I backed away.

"I am sorry," I told him, "but the candle went out and I could no longer see to write. There 
was no longer a reason for me to stay up because all I could see was the darkness I see when 
I'm asleep. So I drifted off to sleep."

"You be more careful next time," he said, thrusting the tray of food in front of me. "If the 
Mother Superior had decided to bring this to you and if she had found those pages, you 
would have died."

"I will remember that."

I noticed that the blond haired boy was moving his hand to his pants crotch and he was 
beginning to stroke himself. "Do we ask her Bob?"

He was talking to the other boy.

"Ask me what?" I said, looking from one to the other.

"Well," Bob, the black haired boy said, "we think that you should pay for the paper and 
pencil."

"In what way?" I asked.

The black haired boy was already pulling his pants down, and I could see his hard cock 
sticking straight out. He started to rub it, and then pulled me by the hair, pulling my face over 
to his throbbing manhood.

"Lick it," he said to me.

I was scared, but then I felt the blond boy hitting my backside with his hand.

"Do as he says," he commanded to me. "Do as he says or else you will get no more paper 
and pencils."

And so, I did. I moved my mouth to his penis and I started to lick the hot skin. He began to
tremble when I did that and he was pulling my hand up to his hanging testicles and making 
me squeeze them. He took hold of his penis and began to force it into my mouth. I could 
taste something creamy at the tip, but only a drop. He then reached for my cheeks and held 
my head as he began to move his penis in and out of my mouth. I was holding his balls so 
they did not slap me in the chin, and I started to suck in with my cheeks.

It was only a matter of minutes before the hardness in my mouth began to throb and I 
could taste his seed inside of me, taste the bitterness of the flavor on my tongue and the 
creaminess of the consistency as it started to slide down my throat.

I thought that it was all going to be over when he started to shrink out of my mouth, but 
then, before I even knew what was happening the blond boy was turning me around and I 
could see that he, too, wanted satisfaction. His hardness was in his hand, and it seemed a few 
inches larger than the first one.

"But you said that... " I started to protest, earn another candle for yourself if you wish to 
have light to write by."

I felt like mother with the fabric, only I knew that they would keep their bargain. After all, 
they had already given me the paper once before I had even done anything for them at their 
own bidding. It was true that I had satisfied them a number of times during the nuns' orgiastic
rituals, taken them both in at the same time, one in the vagina and the other anally, taken 
them in my mouth and sucked them before, felt their hands hitting me when the nuns said 
they wished it.

So it was not like I had anything to lose, but everything to gain.

I went at his cock very fast, moving my hand around to his sweaty smooth ass because I 
remembered that this boy had a very sensitive backside. I remembered that once that while he
had been penetrating me, one of the Sisters moved behind him with a large wooden stake 
and inserted it up his rectum. He had stiffened immediately and he had pumped his load into 
me.

As I sucked on his thick cock I moved my hand to his ass crack and began to stroke him 
lightly. It seemed that when I moved my finger near his rectum, he would tense up just a little 
bit. But I knew that was a good sign, and ever so slowly I began to probe his tight hole with 
my finger. At one point, I slid it in deep and that was when he started to pump.

I swallowed it all, and then he was pushing me down on the floor, his limp cock hanging 
between his legs.

"I think that she is a good one, Rob," he said to the black haired boy.

"She is most obedient, David," he said.

"She knows the rewards she will get," David said, "don't you?"

"If you are nice to me I will be nice to you," I said to them. "But tell me something. Are you 
not satisfied enough doing the bidding of the nuns?"

"That is not satisfaction," David said to me, pulling up his pants and tucking himself back 
in. "That is work."

"But you are satisfied," I said, thinking of those times we had been forced to perform 
sexual acts in front of the nuns while they drooled with pleasure.

"Yes, we are," he said, "but it is not the same. It is not the same to be at the beck and 
command of the women here."

"Then why do you stay?" I asked them.

"We have nowhere else to go," the black haired boy, Rob, said to me. "Besides, do you 
think we do not have it good here? The nuns all treat us well. We are fed twice a day, we have 
warm beds to sleep in, and we have the satisfaction of knowing that we get to try most of the 
young girls who come here."

"But the pain," I said to them. "I see them inflict pain on you sometimes."

"That is true." David said, "but it is not often and it is not like the pain that they inflict on 
the girls. And it is worth the pain for all the pleasure they lavish on us during the good times."

"But what satisfaction can they have in the pain?" I asked.

"Well, they... "

"Come," Bob said, interrupting his friend, "I fear that we have stayed here too long. They 
will be waiting for us and we must hasten."

"You're right," David said, and the two of them walked to the door.

"We will see you later," Rob said, and then the door closed behind them.

At least they had kept their promise. The burning candle remained with me and I now 
have light to continue my diary. But I can see that this candle will only give me about an 
hour's worth of time, so I must write as fast as I can because who knows when I will have the 
chance to record all this again.

It was a happy time then, remember Father. The next few weeks, after you and mother had
had it out were peaceful and calm. I will be honest with you and tell you that she did not 
remain faithful as she had promised, but it did happen less frequently than it had in the past if
that is saying anything for her, if that makes you feel any better and any less guilty for 
thinking that you were the one responsible for her leaving. Because I know that's what you 
think.

But it was just a tradesman, father. I never told you this before because I thought you 
would be mad at me for spying. But I heard the tradesman talking mother into coming away 
with him after they had made love.

"I can show you wonders you never dreamed of," he said to her.

"Like what?"

"Anything is wondrous outside of Spain," he said. "You can live your life more freely 
without having to worry about the wrath of the Church, without having to worry about the 
Inquisition and the threats to your life. You will see the green oceans and the countrysides."

"But my husband... " she started to say.

"If you are happy here with him then that is good. You stay here with him. But if you want 
to come with me, then I will take you."

I didn't stay to hear her decision because I was running to try and find you, Father, try and 
find you and bring you home so that you would stop her before she decided to go. Don't you 
remember that you saw me sitting on a stone in the middle of the road. I just could not make 
it that far, I am sorry. I was out of breath and had to pause many times to rest.

By the time I saw you coming I knew that if she was going, she was already gone. That 
much time had elapsed, so I knew that it was even senseless to tell you. We walked to the 
house together, I was holding your hand, only nine at the time, and when we got to the empty
house, I already knew.

But I couldn't bring myself to tell you because I knew that it would pain you. I just sat 
there, already knowing what you were soon to discover, and I watched you find the note she 
had left and sink to the floor, swearing.

"That whore," you started to say out loud, not even caring that I was there hearing it all. 
"That bitching whore. I can't believe she would do this to me. Your mother has run away with a
tradesman, run off to explore the world, she writes. May God strike her down wherever she 
walks."

"I'm sorry, Father," I said to you and I ran to your arms.

You held me tight and we cried on each other's shoulder then, but in some ways I think 
that I was glad to be home alone with you. Mother had taught me many things about keeping
house and I knew that I could do a job as good as she did. And for a number of years, you 
gave me that chance, father, almost treating me like I was the wife of the family, in all my 
tenth, eleventh, and twelfth year, in every way that a man would treat his wife except, of 
course, sexually.

But then I didn't even know much about that, had only witnessed it. I was hardly even 
developed as a woman, I am still hardly developed, and yet I have been abused and used, 
those womanly parts of me entered time and time again.

I was so happy then, Father, why did it have to end?

Did you think that I would really grow up to be like mother? It was just childish games that
Jake and I used to play, childish games. I was still pure when you dropped me here, pure 
except for the time that man touched me. For although Jake and I did touch each other, it was
only to learn things and not for anything sexual.

It started to happen when I was ten and Jake was twelve. He would come over to our 
house and keep me company because, as he said, he missed seeing me in school. Of course 
everyone knew that the reason I had to stop going was because my mother had run off and I 
had to take care of the house for my Father.

So Jake used to come over to keep me company after school, and he was only a friend.

But one day, he started to talk about things.

"There is talk about why your mother ran off," he said to me, smiling.

"And what kind of talk is that?" I asked him.

"They say that your mother used to cuckold your father with all the tradesmen who came 
selling her goods, and that she finally found one who was better and ran off with him."

"Where did you hear that?" I asked, getting angry. "Are you just making that up or did 
someone really tell it to you?"

"Everyone tells it to me," he said to me.

I flung myself at him, hitting his chest with my fist.

"You take that back," I said to him.

He grabbed my wrists with his hands and stopped me from hitting him, and then, before I 
even knew what was happening he was pulling me over and kissing me on the lips. It was a 
short kiss, and I felt nothing.

"You see," he said to me, "I like you. I'm only telling you all that for your own good 
because I think you should know about it. I'm not saying that I believe it."

"Do you?"

"Is it true? Can you deny it?"

"No," I said.

"Then you actually saw what she did sometimes?"

"Yes," I said, and I don't know why I was even telling him all those things except that he 
was still holding my wrists and I felt like he had me under some kind of hypnotic power.

"Tell me all about it," he said.

And when I couldn't bring myself to recite the details, he started to tell me how he only 
wanted to know because he was innocent as far as sex went and wasn't even sure what was 
actually involved. I thought it rather funny. Jake always seemed to know so much at school, so
many educational things, but he didn't even know something as pure and simple as sex. So I 
was the one who told him just what happened, telling him how the man entered the woman.

But believe me, Father, I told him time and time again that it was sinful for a man and 
woman to do it unless they were married and that mother would surely rot in hell for what she
had done with those men.

I wonder now what will happen to the nuns who make up this convent here? A few of 
them were actively involved in some of the orgies here, but all of them sit around watching 
the proceedings. I know that the Mother Superior is the one who gives out all the orders, the 
one who makes them carry out the deeds.

Will they rot in hell for that, Father?

Will they?

Or are they so religious because they pray to God all the time that He will forgive them 
and allow them into Heaven? And if He does that, then in a sense He is not condoning what 
they do, not at all. He is letting their sins go unpaid.

I am confused. I am so confused and my head is spinning now, partially from the 
throbbing pain that seems to seep through every bone of my body, and partially from these 
inconsistent thoughts that keep shooting through my mind and pulling at it, tearing it in all 
directions and making me think that my head will explode.

Will these nuns go to heaven or to hell?

You know where I hope they end up, each one of them, walking through the fire that will 
bum their skin off and make them shriek the way I did as a lit flame was brought closer and 
closer to my flesh, make their skin begin to turn dark and then peel off the way a small piece 
of mine did as the heat became so intense and finally the flame made actual contact with my 
skin.

May they all rot in hell and burn to death, slow and lingering.

It was Jake who made the suggestion first that we strip in front of each other so that we 
could learn about the parts of a boy's and girl's body, learn things from each other, and I 
thought it would be okay as long as we didn't actually fornicate. After all, it was only a game.



* * *



We didn't actually do anything, we wouldn't actually do anything.

So we each stood there, shyly, these two young people, and I started to wait for him to 
strip first because I was too shy. We even made a game of it then. You see, after he took off his
shirt, he told me that it was my turn to take off my blouse.

"Wait a second, Jake," I said to him, "that's not playing fair. A woman's breasts are more 
important than a man's. You'd be getting to see too much of me before I get to see you."

"A woman's breasts, maybe," he said to me, laughing, "but certainly you don't think of 
your breasts as being those of a woman. They're as small as mine."

I didn't think that it was funny, but he continued to laugh. And then he reached over and 
started to unbutton my blouse. He ripped open the first button, and then I backed away, 
scared.

"All right," I finally said to him, knowing that I was going to have to do it eventually. When 
I opened my blouse he gasped.

Then we continued. When we were finally naked I noticed that his eyes were constantly 
staring at the slit between my legs. I didn't have very much pubic hair then, and still don't 
even have very much now. I guess I was looking at his small penis just as much as he looked at
my cunt. It was so much smaller than any of the ones I had seen before on the tradesmen with
mother. Theirs had much more hair, and the two balls hung much lower than Jake's balls did.

I assume now that size is not relative to age anyway, because the two boys who worked on
me were smaller than the men I saw with mother, but much bigger than Jake was, much 
bigger than I would expect his to grow in three years when he is the same age as the boys 
here.

It was like I said, though, we didn't even touch each other. At least not that time, and even 
when we did, it was only to explore, to learn a little bit more about ourselves as a man and a 
woman. That first time he touched his penis himself and made it grow a little, but when it was 
hard I didn't look because I told him that it was perfectly sinful and God wouldn't like it.

"You just put that away, Jake," I said to him, and covered my eyes until he reassured me 
that he had his pants back on.

We started to undress in front of each other often, but then there was that one day, Father,
that one terrible day when you walked in. You were so mad that you never even gave me a 
chance to explain, but right away you assumed that Jake and I had been having carnal 
relations with each other. But maybe you did believe me in your heart because when you 
brought me here and the nun asked you if I was pure, you didn't say yes, but you didn't say 
no, either.

They didn't care. They saw to it one way or the other.

But father, that day Jake and I were just carrying our game one step further. After we had 
undressed (and by this time we did touch each other, once in a while, but only to get the feel 
of the other body next to us, and certainly not for any sexual cause) Jake jokingly suggested 
that we should play house and that it was the night time, deep in the blackness of night.

"All our children are asleep," he said, walking over to me and putting his arm around my 
shoulder, "all are deep asleep. We have had a long day, you and I, me working in the fields 
harvesting, and you keeping house and taking care of the baby. But all is well now and we go 
to bed for our first restful moment since awakening... " I started to giggle, Father, that's how 
innocent it was. For if you knew Jake it was funny to hear him talking like that. He was usually 
such an incompetent illiterate and words like that never passed his lips. Anyway, we walked 
into the bedroom, yours and mother's, or yours now, and we lay down on the bed. I 
remember that it was dark in the room, but not pitch dark, because it was something of a 
muggy day and there was no sun. Still, it wasn't dark enough for him to have tried anything 
without my seeing it. We could both see each other perfectly.

We lay under the covers and he moved closer to me, then began to nibble on my ear.

"Hey," I said to him, moving my hand to hit him away but accidentally slapping his penis, 
"you said that we're going to bed to rest. After a long day."

"Well, how do you think that a mother and father relax after a long day?"

"Jake, you said that you wouldn't."

I could feel him rubbing his groin against my ass, touching my buttocks. I was too scared 
to feel anything pleasurable.

In some ways, now, I wish that I did let him do something to me, let myself feel the natural
pleasures that one is supposed to feel during sex. Because here, in the last three days, I have 
been tortured and sexually abused, and never have I felt the pleasure of a woman. There is 
always too much pain.

But that time, I jumped out of the bed and ran to get mother's robe from her closet. I was 
moving fast and Jake was making no attempt to follow. He just started to laugh out loud, 
telling me that he was kidding and that he never would have done anything like that to me. I 
believed him then, but now, having known the two boys here who serve the nuns, maybe I 
shouldn't have. Maybe he had a manly sex drive and wanted to be fulfilled.

"You are very funny," I said to him, "but now, I must get to work."

And with that I turned around to start walking back to the kitchen. That is when I saw you, 
Father, walking down the hall. I knew that you were going to be angry and I started to 
tremble. You smiled at me and that is the last time I remember you ever doing anything like 
that for me. For as soon as you walked past me, patting my head like the good little girl you 
thought I was, you must have seen Jake, naked in your bed, and then I heard you yell.

I remember very little of what happened then for it all passed by so fast. Jake was pushing 
past me, running down the hall to the kitchen and picking up his pants. He ran out of the 
house naked, with you still pursuing him. But you only went so far because then you were 
turning back and coming after me.

The blows you hit me with were bad then, but now I have come to realize that your blows 
were only reprimanding ones. I realize now that you still had love for me then, but were only 
hitting me because of your own anger, because of your deep-hidden fears which you even 
voiced to me as you hit me still.

"You are growing up to be like her," he said. "A sluttish daughter from a whorish mother, it
only makes sense. Did she teach you all this when she was here? Did she teach you how to 
lead men into your bedroom? Your bedroom? Ha! My bedroom. Is that where your mother 
entertained her guests, too?"

"We were only playing," I said to you, the tears streaming down my cheeks. I was so scared
that my breaths were short, and in some ways, I did hope that I would stop breathing and just 
die. I thought that you hated me.

"Is that what you call it now?" you yelled at me. "Playing?"

"An innocent game?"

"I see how innocent," you were yelling, "I see how innocent."

You continued to hit me as I backed away on the floor. It was only then that my robe 
opened and you noticed that I was naked underneath. Did that confirm your suspicions even 
more? Is that why you reached for the broom and then...

But you didn't, Father, you didn't.

You couldn't bring yourself to hit me with that broom. I could see the same look on your 
face that had occurred the time you and mother had fought and you had raised your hand to 
hit her. You loved her too much and just couldn't bring yourself to do something like that to 
her.

I want you to know that I take it as a sign of love on your part. I believe that you loved me 
too much to want to physically harm me and that is why you never hit me with the broom. 
Instead, you just stood over me, both hands raised above your head and the broom clenched 
tight. I could see how white your knuckles were holding that broom, and you looked like you 
so desperately wanted to lash it out at me. Instead, you just threw it to one side and fell down 
on your knees.

You grabbed me by the shoulders and you pulled me over to you.

"Please do not grow up to be like your mother. Please," you said to me over and over 
again.

I thought that would be the end of it. I was about eleven at the time and it took you 
another year to finally decide to send me here to this place of hell and damnation that is 
hidden behind the name of the Church. Kill me, God, for saying so, but look down and see the
way that we suffer.

Was it because of the things that you heard? About Mary, my school chum becoming 
pregnant and her father throwing her out of the house? I remember that happened only a few
days before you walked in and told me of your decision. I remember the day that you heard it 
happened, you came home.

"Have you heard the news?" you asked, and when I said no you told me about it. "She was 
a slut, and she has gotten what she deserves."

"But where will she go?" I asked him, not caring about what she had done but caring even 
more about what would become of her.

"Wherever she goes and whatever happens to her, she will deserve it."

"Is that the way you would feel if the same thing happened to me?"

You looked at me so warily, raising your eyebrows a little and opening your eyes so wide 
as you peered at me.

"Have you been lying to me then, girl?" you asked. "Once I found you and I have forgiven 
you because of the sin you... "

"Nothing had ever happened... "

"But now, do you tell me that you continue to practice such sin?"

Father, you should only know what sins are practiced here.

"No," I said to you then, and we continued with out meal. But you continued to look at me
so funny the next few days, and then, I think it was three days after the talk about Mary, you 
came in with your announcement.

"I have decided on something for you to do," you said to me.

"Something for me to do?" I asked. I had not asked you to make any kind of decision. I 
was happy doing whatever it was I was doing.

"It is for your own sake," you said to me. "It is to guarantee you a good life in the future, a 
pure life. It is to make sure that you do not end up practicing the same sluttish ways of your 
mother... "

"I thought we've been through all that... "

"Or practice the same sluttish ways of your friend, Mary. I have decided that the best thing 
I can do for you is to send you to Saint Catharine Nunnery in the next village where you will 
learn the ways of the Church. You will become purified and you will practice the teachings of 
God."

"But Father, I... "

"I will hear no protests on my commands," you said to me then. "It is decided and what is 
decided will remain as being."

I wanted to tell you so many things then. I wanted to tell you that I had very little belief in 
God, certainly not enough of a belief to warrant my spending the rest of my days worshipping
him. I wanted to tell you that I looked forward to taking care of you the rest of my life because
you needed someone to help you, needed someone to tend to your needs. I wanted to tell 
you that one day I also hoped to marry and bear you grandchildren, legitimate grandchildren 
because I had seen how happy you had been when Santo's daughter had come to visit once 
with her infant son and you held the boy on your knee, giving him a horse ride.

I wanted to give you grandchildren so that you would have that happiness once more.

For three days after that we said hardly anything to each other. You were waiting for a 
Sunday so that the two of us could travel to the next town. And finally the day arrived and you
had me pack my bag.

Little was said during the long trek to Saint Catharine's. I think that you knew the way I was
feeling, but still, you had it in your mind that you were doing what was right for me.

When we arrived, I remember you ringing the large bell at the gate. A sister appeared, one
whom I now know to be Sister Anne. When she heard what you wanted she immediately sent 
for the Reverend Mother.

She is a witch in the guise of a nun.

When the Mother Superior came she looked me over, up and down, eying me. Didn't you 
notice the deceiving glint in her eye as she stared at me? I guess not. I never would have 
thought anything wrong with her had she not done all those things to me.

"Is she pure?" I remember her asking you, one of the only things she asked.

And you looked at me. I could see the questioning in your eyes. You still didn't know what 
to think about that day with Jake. I could see it all running through your mind again. Still, I 
wanted one answer from you. I wanted you to tell her that yes I was pure. Instead, you said 
what was in your heart.

"I do not know."

"We will have to find out," the Mother Superior said, "but we will take her in anyway. We 
will train her right."

You hardly even looked at me as they led me past the gates. I heard you agree to leave me
there, without ever coming to see me, for five years. I am doomed five years in Hell. Doomed 
in this hell on earth.

But I do not blame you Father. You did not know about the things that were going to 
happen to me. You even seemed to feel a little guilty about it, and maybe that is why you 
could not bear to look at me. So do not feel guilty for the atrocities I will now record, 
atrocities that I have suffered, with more, I am sure, to follow.





CHAPTER THREE


"You will follow me," the Mother Superior, and elderly woman with rounded glasses, cloaked 
in black so that you could see no apparent figure underneath, only long flowing black 
sheet-like material which swayed as she walked, said to me.

And I did. I noticed the large echoing walls, heard my footsteps repeating as they bounced
off the walls and we walked further down.

Along to the right were large wooden doors, seeming to fit so tightly within the red 
stoned walls, everything seeming so thick and protective. I had always thought that God 
would be inside of a Nunnery to protect the people, but it seemed to me, even then before I 
knew of the reason for this protective security, that the people here were doing a good job of 
protecting themselves without the aid of God.

One thing, Father. I only heard my footsteps echo, yet the Mother Superior was walking 
with me. Could she have been floating? I do not know. Each time that I saw her she seemed to
float and not once can I remember hearing the sound of footsteps coming from her. In some 
ways, that scares me for I know she could be upon me any minute, forcing my door open and 
looking at the things that I am writing. For they are spread out before me on the floor, my 
pages, and although my hand pains from all the writing I have done, I must continue for who 
knows how much longer I will have.

"Where are we going to?" I asked the mother, a natural curious question.

"We are going for your inspection," she said to me.

"My what?"

But she had answered me once, and it seemed that she did not want to answer me again. 
We continued to walk, the halls were so deep and vast, and finally, we came to one thick 
wooden door all the way at the end. She opened the door and waited for me to walk in first. 
But she did not follow me.

"You will stay here for a few minutes before our doctor comes to inspect you. Please be so 
kind as to slip out of your clothes. This is to be a thorough physical examination, if you 
please."

"But... "

"By the way, your father did not have an answer for my question. Maybe you could do a 
little better since you would be the one who most obviously knows the answer. Tell me, are 
you pure?"

"Am I what?" I asked.

"Pure? Have you ever been violated by a man before?"

"Do you mean having carnal relations?"

"On, then you know about it," she said to me, half-smiling.

"Of course I know about it," I said to her. "The reason I was sent here was because my 
mother ran off with tradesmen and my father wants me to grow up pure."

"But are you, my child? It was a question he could not answer."

"Yes, I am," I said to her.

"Then you have nothing to worry about. Kindly undress and I will be back shortly with the 
doctor."

She slammed the door behind her. I was scared, for one brief second, and I ran to the door
and tried to push it open. Either it was too heavy, or locked, for I could not budge it at all.

I turned and looked around the room that would be my temporary lodging, at least for an 
hour or so, I thought. I could see that the walls were made of the same thick red brick as the 
walls in the hall. Many of the bricks were chipped in certain areas, looking so worn, but also 
reassuring their strength at having stood up for so much. At one far end of the room, I 
noticed, on the wall, were two manacles raised up high. Handcuffs. And on the floor right next
to it were other chains and manacles, some that I assumed were for the feet.

Maybe it had once been a torture chamber, I thought.

There was a small metal furnace in one corner of the room, and when I walked over I was 
pleased to see that there had been some wood placed inside and it was emitting some kind of
heat. I warmed my hands and it was only then that I noticed the chill in the room.

There was a large wooden table in the center of the room, and there too I noticed straps 
which I assumed were for the wrists and ankles. A few chairs evened out the room, thick solid 
wood, and there was even a large wooden cabinet. Naturally I went over to inspect it, but 
there was a small lock keeping it shut tight. As I moved my fingers around near the lock, I 
noticed something for the first time. It looked like there was some dried blood right near the 
lock. I had never seen dried blood before which is why I can only assume that it Was. Now I 
seem to know better.

I realize that it must have been the dried blood of some young girl who, when released 
from the cuffs for even a fleeting moment, tried to get to that cabinet so she could remove 
some of the devices that they kept inside, some of the whips and chains. They were probably 
her only means of salvation, To fight back with them.

I have much doubt now that she was ever able to do it. It might have been a valiant effort 
on her part, but a failing one never the less.

I was standing near the cabinet, investigating the dried blood, chipping some of it away 
with my fingernail, when I heard the creaking sound of the door. I quickly raised myself to my 
feet, having been stooping down, and whirled around to see who was there. That was the first 
time I saw the two boys, Rob, the black haired one, and Dave, the blond haired one.

"Who are you?" I asked them, wondering what two boys could be doing in a convent.

"You were supposed to be undressed," the blond one said to me.

The didn't look like they were too old then. I have since learned that they are both fifteen, 
if memory serves me correct. I did find out their ages when I was in an agonized stupor, my 
body wracked with pain.

"And you were coming in for a free look?" I asked, rather coyly.

"It seems to us that we have a hot one here," the black haired boy said. "The Mother 
Superior was not sure of you."

"Not sure of me in what way?" I asked.

"She was not sure," David, the blond one said, "whether or not you were pure. I would 
assume, from the way you are talking, that you may have even once been a professional at it."

I was outraged. How dare he insinuate that my chastity had been broken and that I was 
something of a whore. I confronted him with that remark, and the two of them both broke out
into laughter.

"Oh," Rob said, "now she comes on as the innocent."

"Yes," David said, "they always do."

"I do not have to act like I am innocent," I told them both, "because I am innocent. I was 
never touched there."

They were both walking closer to me, smiling at one another, and leering at me each time 
their eyes gazed back over at me. I was backing away toward the wall, and soon I could feel 
the cold stone against my back, the chill of it penetrating even through my dress.

They stood, both of them, only inches from me.

Suddenly, David, the blond one and the better looking one of the two, reached out and 
touched my breast. My breasts are not large, but they did grow some since I was younger. He 
cupped my entire fleshy breast in his hand and started to squeeze it.

"What are you doing?" I asked him.

"We were sent here to inspect you," he said to me.

I slapped his hand away.

"I do not believe that you would be sent here," I said to him.

I could not believe it when his hand lashed out and slapped me across the face, then he 
went back to massaging my nipple through my dress.

"You had better learn to believe it," he said to me.

"You were also supposed to be undressed when we came," Rob said, and with that he was 
moving his hand to my dress buttons and beginning to open them. I was so scared and 
wanted to push them both away, but there was nothing that I could do about it. Soon he had 
my buttons open all the way down the front, and they slid my dress off my shoulders.

Both of them Jeered at my fierce stiff red nipples, and David moved his fingers back to my 
now naked, breast and began to play with the stiffened piece of flesh, gently pinching it and 
squeezing it through his fingers.

Meanwhile, Rob, the other boy, was moving his hand down to my panties. He reached in 
and started to play with the blond haired triangle between my legs. Then he yanked my 
panties off, and both boys stood back looking over my nakedness. I was so embarrassed. It 
was not within the context of the same childish games that Jake and I used to play. Those two 
boys were looking at me as if I was some sexual toy who was going to fulfill their needs. I did, 
eventually, but without much choice.

As they looked at me, I could do nothing but look back at them and that is when I noticed 
a growing bulge in their pants. I knew just what that meant and I tried to push my way past 
them. Not only was I so vulnerable because of my nakedness, but I was never a very strong 
person and they were both grabbing me, one taking one arm and the other grabbing at my 
feet.

"We were sent here to inspect you," Dave, the one holding my arms began to say, "so 
there is really no use in your struggling."

"You haven't come to inspect me," I said to him.

"Of course we have. You just don't know any better. You don't know the way that things 
work around here."

"Where is the Reverend Mother?" I screamed out.

But neither one of them answered. They were carrying me over to the wooden table, and 
no matter how much I kicked and screamed, there was just no way to break loose of the grip 
that they had me in.

I could feel the cold wood pressing against my ass as I was laid down, and then I felt my 
arms being raised up above my head. I knew that they were going to cuff me to the table, so I 
was not at all surprised when I felt the hard metal around my wrists and then heard the small 
click. I was not surprised either when I felt Dave's hands leave my wrists, no longer having to 
hold me because I knew that the cuffs were now going to serve that purpose.

But just to make sure, I pulled my arms to see if I could get them loose, and I only felt the 
hard metal cutting into me.

I next felt my legs being clamped, around the ankles, and when they were both secured I 
tried moving them. I was surprised to see that I could move them, but not too much. I bent 
my knees and I noticed that the ankle cuffs seemed to be linked with some chain, giving me 
some leeway to move. As I experimented with it, pulling up my legs again, I hardly even 
noticed where the boys were standing.

Right at the foot of the table, because my legs were still spread enough so that even when
I bent them at the knees, the boys were looking at a perfect view of my exposed cunt. They 
were talking among themselves, and I tried to listen.

"Do we believe her?" Dave asked.

"I don't know," he said to him, "but either way it's going to have to be done. That's the 
way the Reverend Mother likes it to be."

"But what if she is?" David asked him.

"If she is then I guess this is my lucky day," Rob said back.

"But then, you should let me go first because it is my turn to have a virgin. You had the last
one, don't you remember?"

"That makes no difference," Rob said. "You had the last girl who was brought here and you
know that we always take turns with them, alternating."

"Yes," David said, "but the last girl that we had was not a virgin, you know that. It just isn't 
fair."

"You did not know that she wasn't a virgin until after you entered her. She kept saying that
she was and there was every reason to believe her."

"She lied."

"And she paid for it. She paid for it in the end, you know. But this girl is mine, no matter 
what she says." Then Rob turned to me, addressing himself to me directly but keeping his eyes
glued mainly to my parted thighs. "You are a virgin, are you not?"

"Yes," I said to him, "I am."

He and Dave started to move closer to the table. They were each standing on one side of 
my body, and it was almost like they had this whole thing worked out among themselves. For 
the minute one placed his hand on my breast, the other placed his hand on my other breast. I 
know that I could have felt some pleasure there, and maybe I would have been better off 
feeling it. But I was just too scared to feel anything.

"What kind of an examination is this anyway?" I asked them both.

"It is an examination to see if you lie about your chastity or not."

I did not know what feeling my nipples had to do with lying about my chastity, although 
the more they played with them the more stiff I seemed to become, until I could relax, just a 
little, and feel something mildly pleasant in what they were doing. Nothing all that intense, 
Father, not the way I always heard it should be, but still, a nice tingly feeling all over my body.

Until, all of a sudden, I felt one hand, Rob's hand, beginning to travel down my side, 
rubbing my flesh hard. I could feel his hand tracing its way over my pubic mound, rubbing 
through my thinned blonde hair there, and then right down to my cunt. I couldn't believe it 
when he started to massage my pussy lips, and although I thought of crossing my legs, I 
couldn't have anyway because of the buckle around my ankles. I could have laid them down 
flat on the table, which I did once or twice just to keep the blood circulating in them, but as 
far as crossing them to keep his fingers from touching my vagina, that was impossible. His 
fingers only rubbed my outer lips at first, and in some ways I was a little surprised that he 
didn't try to penetrate me sooner than he even did. For of course, that was what both boys 
had in mind, that was their main objective although I didn't know for sure at the time.

I could feel sweat beginning to roll from my body, sweat that I could not understand. But 
my cunt was beginning to get wet with moisture, too, and that was also interesting to me in 
some ways. It was feeling nice. I could understand maybe, why mother had been able to take 
such large cocks inside of her. If she had been as wet as I was beginning to feel, it must have 
been very easy for them to slide right into her.

"She seems to get wet like a whore," Rob said to Dave.

"Let me feel."

And then I could feel his hand sliding down my belly, and soon I had two fingers moving 
over my pussy lips, pulling at them a little and massaging them. Their massage seemed to get 
more fierce, harder and more aggressive, the wetter I got. For in a few more seconds I could 
feel the wetness seeping out to my lips and they were rubbing it against my legs.

"Now you say that you're a virgin," Rob said to me, and it was at that exact time that he 
started to slide his fingers into me, but not all that deep. I could feel my awakened clitoris 
tingle as he started to move his fingers in and out of me.

"Well?" Dave asked.

"I don't know for sure, but there is one way to find out."

And I heard the sound of buttons, raised my head, and looked down between my legs just 
in time to see him taking his hard penis out of his pants. I could see how low his two solid 
balls were hanging as he swung them out of the pants, too. He moved a little closer to me and
started to rub his hard cock against my leg.

"What are you going to do?" I yelled at him.

"The virgin test," he said to me.

"But you can't do that to me," I said. "I will no longer be pure if you do something like that
to me."

"But we cannot know if you're pure unless we do it."

And then, he started to climb up on the table. I could feel this heat emanating from 
between his legs, moving closer to my legs and seeming to travel up my spread and virgin 
pussy.

Yes, Father, I will say it again and again so you might finally believe me.

I was pure. I was pure. I was pure.

Until that time with these two boys I was pure. For after that encounter with them, after 
the first few minutes of lying on the table, spread out for them like the finest meal fit for a 
king, only a few seconds later my maidenhood had been claimed by the darker haired boy.

I could feel the large mushroom-like head of his penis brushing against my lips, and then, 
ever so slowly, he started to sink his way into me. I could feel the bone of his penis, the 
thickness of it, brushing over my clitoris and for a moment, a sense of fulfilling pleasure burst 
through my body. For a second I think that I felt what it must be like to be a woman, to know 
a woman's pleasures. And it has convinced me now, as I sit here writing, that sex is a beautiful 
thing for two people, the only form of pleasure they can entertain with nothing more than 
their two bodies.

I know that now having suffered the pain and humiliation of brutal sex.

Rob was in me for a few seconds, and he didn't move much.

"She is," he said to Dave, and as soon as he said that I felt him plunging his way into me. I 
could feel something ripping apart inside of me, feel a warm oozing of something, which, 
when I later looked between my legs seemed to be blood mixed with come. For there was that
unmistakable deep red color of blood there.

With that thrust there was a shooting and violent pain throughout my body. I felt his hips 
slapping against mine with that solid thrust, and I knew that he was in as deep as his man 
meat would take him from the slapping of his balls against my ass.

"She was," Rob said to David then.

I started to yell out. There was nothing that I wanted to do more than to get those two 
boys in trouble. After all, if they had been sent, as they said, to check out the nature of my 
purity, they had just changed it themselves. They had just devirginized me and I wanted 
someone of authority at the Convent, someone who would actually see them in the act 
walking in and finding Rob embedded deep within me.

But as soon as I yelled out, I was slapped across the face by Dave.

"We will have to keep her quiet in some way," Dave said to Rob as he slapped me across 
the face again and again.

He seemed to know how because in a second, I could see him beginning to unbutton his 
pants. I saw his thick blond haired cock staring me in the face. He wrenched my head to one 
side, hurting my neck and pulling it so that I though I heard something snap. Then he was 
directing his hard maleness toward my mouth. At first, I kept my lips shut tight, kept my teeth 
clenched, too, so that I could feel the warm head of him rubbing against my lips, feel a tiny 
drop of something gooey leaking from the head of his hardness.

He reached for my nose and my jaw, one with each hand, and he started to pull my mouth
wide open.

"You realize that it would be easier for you in the long run," he said to me, "if you would 
just open your mouth and make it easier for us."

I could feel Rob beginning to move inside of me. He had been lying there, his body 
pressed against mine, his throbbing hardness still bringing more and more pain to me, and he
had been watching his friend in action. He waited to see me open my mouth a little, waited to 
see Dave shove himself deep into my mouth, and then he started to move his ass up and 
down as he sent himself in and out of me.

I could feel his hardness rubbing over my erect clitoris then, and I wished that I could have
felt some of the pleasures that the two of them seemed to be feeling. For I could hear them 
moaning and groaning, and soon, Rob was grunting as he continued to press his way into me,
exploring me deeper and deeper. I could feel Dave's hand moving to my naked trembling 
breast and he was soon massaging my hard nipple.

"Good, isn't she?" Dave was saying between long breaths as he moved his ass back and 
forth, sending his cock hurtling in and out of my mouth, sometimes so deep that I was sure I 
would gag to death on it.

I did not mind the taste, although it was not too satisfying either. And I could hardly 
concentrate on it anyway because of the throbbing pain between my legs, the continuous 
pain of that penis ramming itself in and out of my pussy. I was grateful for the wetness that 
my walls seemed to have built up inside of me, grateful because I could easily imagine the 
ripping of skin inside of someone if they were dry. But he continued to pound away, until I felt
him throbbing inside of me, felt his cock expanding with these unbelievable spasms, and that 
stretching was hurting me even more.

I grunted once, twice, and then he started to pump his cream into me. I could feel it 
shooting all the way up inside of my cunt and he continued to pump and groan and moan 
until I felt him starting to shrink inside of me.

It was just then that Dave began the same kind of wild pulsations inside of my mouth, and 
I could taste his warm juice oozing out into my mouth. It was refreshing, I must admit, only 
because my mouth had been so dry, having had nothing to eat or drink after that long walk 
from home to the Convent, and there was something creamy and liquidy about the juice from 
his penis as it continued to pour forth into my mouth. Spurt after spurt of it.

I did not like the taste, too much. The texture of it was enough to soothe the dry insides of
my throat, to act as a liquidy quality and to make it better inside of me, but the actual taste 
was not pleasing. So I was happy when it stopped and his organ started to go limp inside of 
me, too.

They both stood over me, their limp cocks hanging between their legs, leering at me so 
obscenely and occasionally moving their fingers over various parts of my flesh. I could feel a 
tremendous chill running through my body, for as I said, the room was only heated by a small 
furnace and I had worked up quite a sweat during their little test with me. But now that 
neither one of them was covering my body, the sweat was beginning to dry because of the 
chill breeze.

"I am cold," I said to them, hoping that they would cover me.

"She is cold," Rob said to Dave, laughing. "Did you hear that, brother, she says she is cold. 
If you had felt the way her pussy worked around my cock, you would never think that she was 
cold."

"And she was a virgin?" Dave asked.

"The finest. But it was not hard to break through her. I have had tougher ones."

"But now she is no longer a virgin," Dave said.

"I know that."

"What will the Mother Superior have to say about that?"

"What will she say? She will thank us for being able to tell her one way or the other. You 
know that."

"But we could have told her one thing, told her that she was a virgin without having to 
break through her and now make her unchaste."

It seemed to bother Rob just then, and I started to wonder what kind of power the Mother
Superior had over those two boys. What kind of power she still has for they still seem to be 
commanded by her, even though not as strongly as I believed. Would I have this paper to 
record my feelings if they obeyed everything she tells them?

"That is true," Rob said. "She is no longer a virgin and... "

"I will tell them what you did to me," I said, seeing how scared they were and thinking that 
I had something over them.

"Will you now?" Dave asked, and he moved closer. He reached for my hard nipple with his 
thumb and forefinger, pinched it so tightly, and then started to pull it. I screamed in pain as he
pulled it up more, lifting some of my breast with it. I actually thought that he was going to pull
my nipple right off.

"Yes, will you?" Rob asked me.

"For if you do," Dave said, still pulling and beginning to twist a little now, too, "I will have 
to tell the Mother Superior that you were not a virgin when we tried you. That it seemed to us,
from the way you reacted, that you must have been with hundreds of men in your time. Now 
who do you think she will believe?"

"You," I said, my voice straining from the pain.

"You're right," Dave said. "She would believe the two of us rather that a new slut like you. 
But maybe we can all lie to her."

And as he said that he let up on my nipple and I felt it beginning to throb as the cold wind
hit it once more. I felt a sigh of relief come over my body and I relaxed back on the table.

"What do you mean?" I said to the boy.

"It will be so much better for you if you were a virgin, so much better for your sake. So all 
we will have to do is tell the Mother Superior that after a thorough examination we have 
discovered that your hymen is still intact."

"And will she believe you?" I asked him.

"There is no reason why she shouldn't. There has never been any reason why she had to 
doubt our word before."

Even as he spoke, he and the dark haired boy were stuffing their cocks back into their 
pants. Then Dave walked over to the cabinet that I had been trying to open, unlocked it with a
key he took from his pocket, and pulled out a dirty cloth. I could see traces of dried come 
(something I wasn't familiar with at the time but learned to be familiar with later on, Father) 
and traces of dried blood.

He walked over to me and started to wipe up what was between my legs. That is when I 
raised my head and saw my own blood being absorbed with the dirty towel. He dried up what
was on the table, then spread my vaginal lips and stuffed some of the rag up inside of me. I 
could feel the creamy wet (and by now, cold) moisture inside of my cunt being absorbed by 
the rag, and he moved it around inside of me a little before pulling it out.

He now seemed quite satisfied, thinking that there would be no way for the Mother 
Superior to tell that I had been broken, that there would be no trace of the virgin blood, or 
even of the combined cream of our organs inside of me.

I let my legs fall to the table, I was so exhausted.

"The Mother Superior will be here soon to inspect you herself," Rob said.

"But why must she inspect me when you have just... " I didn't even finish my question 
because the two boys were backing away toward the door, still looking at me. It was only then
that I realized they must have only been sent to tie me down, to get me ready for the Mother 
Superior's inspection, to examine me, possibly before she did, but not to have fucked me over 
the way they had. I could tell by the vague look of fear on their faces after my question.

"Just remember," Dave said to me, as I heard the door creaking open slowly, "just 
remember that for your own sake, you had better not tell them what happened to you. For we
can lie just as well as you can, and we will make your truth seem to be a lie and they will take it
all out on you."

"That's true," Rob said. "So remember what we told you."

And then they backed out of the room. I lay there, my breasts heaving up and down. I 
could see the way my right nipple was still throbbing from the way Dave had been pinching 
and pulling my nipple. I looked down at my pussy and I could see that my lips and entire 
mound still looked a little bit swollen. I could feel the pain still on my body, and I just closed 
my eyes and tried to rest.

I dreamed that I was in a deep blue pool of water, so clear that you could see under the 
water for miles. I had my legs wrapped up to my breasts and my arms were wrapped tightly 
around them, holding them thus. But I was not sinking in the clear pool. I did not have to keep
my feet moving to swim, either. I was just floating, all of me, immersed in this vast void, and I 
could even breathe below the water. I did not need God's air to breathe. I was doing fine on 
my own, down there.

Everything was so calm and peaceful. There was nothing else around me but blue liquid. 
There was no one to violate me, no one to touch me in those forbidden places, to probe my 
pussy or battle with my breasts, to kiss me or place other parts of their body in my mouth. I 
was satisfied just where I was, squeezed tight, no one to bother me and ask for their 
satisfaction, and no one needed there to have to satisfy me because I was just so satisfied 
myself.

It was a wonderful dream, Father, a wonderful dream.

And what are dreams but fancies?

I was floating in the water still, keeping to myself, and then all of a sudden there was a 
thunderous echo reverberating through the water I was in. I began to open my eyes and that's
when I remembered where I was. But there was no water around me at all. I was still strapped 
to this table, naked and vulnerable.

The only part of my dream that had a little truth to it was the echo. I could still hear it and 
when I looked over at the door, I could see that it had been slammed open. The Mother 
Superior was walking into the room, floating like I said before, and there were two other nuns 
following her, their hands buried in their black robes, their faces having no striking features at 
all, only being a mass of pink hidden within the solid mass of black that was their swaying 
robes.

I listened for the footsteps, and heard a few pairs. I noticed that there were two nuns 
following the Mother Superior, and then, behind those two people were the two boys who 
had abused me. But I could only make out four sets of footsteps. I was sure then that the 
Mother Superior was certainly floating on air. Her feet made no sounds on the ground like the
feet of the others, like any feet that would walk on the stone ground in this echo chamber.

"Has she been inspected?" I heard the Mother Superior's deep, booming voice ask as she 
peered at me through her rounded glasses. I could hear her voice repeating once or twice, the
deep echo.

"Yes," Rob said, stepping forward.

"And what have you found?" she asked, still looking at me.

"As far as we can tell, she is pure," he said, then hesitantly added, "we can't be certain."





CHAPTER FOUR


I heard a faint chuckle come from the lips of the Mother Superior when she was told that, and 
she immediately turned around to face Rob.

"And what do you mean, my little one? You have been certain other times."

"I have probed her," he said, "with my fingers, but it was too dark to see anything inside of
her."

"That is a good sign," the older woman said. "Perhaps her virgin skin is still intact and it 
prevents one from looking further inside of her."

She turned to look at me again and walked closer. I noticed that Dave slammed the door 
closed behind him and stood there, while Rob moved back near the furnace and the other two
nuns joined their Sister Mother in standing around the table and looking down at me.

I felt so small and vulnerable. I remember when I was a child, about two, in a crib, and you 
and mother would look down at me, Father. I always felt so helpless when the two of you 
looked up, staring at these two giants who had such control and power over me, not only in 
size and strength, but also in stature.

I felt the same way as three pair of eyes stared at me, and I looked from one unmemorable
face to another. You see, it was as I said, masses of pink sticking through the black folds of 
their robes, and the only memorable one that I saw was the Mother Superior because of her 
age and her glasses.

"Are you?" her booming voice said to me.

"Am I what?" I asked her, my voice trembling.

"Pure, my dear," she said to me. "The word I am looking for is pure. I find it strange that 
your own father faltered upon being asked that question. I cannot help but feel that he might 
possibly have known something that he did not want to tell us."

I looked over at Rob, standing near the furnace, and he was smiling at me. But only I could
see that smile because the minute the Mother Superior turned to try and see where I was 
looking, his smile disappeared and he looked solemn.

"Do you lust after that boy?" she asked me.

"What?" I asked.

"You seem to be looking after Rob with lusting eyes. Have you looked after many men with
lusting eyes before? Have you carried out that lustful feeling?"

"No," I said, firmly. "I am a virgin, chaste and true."

"You say that as a statement of fact," she said to me, "and because of your sheer courage 
in making such a statement, I have faith in you that you tell the truth."

For a minute, I could feel myself sigh with relief.

"However," the Mother Superior said, after hardly even a moment's pause, "I must check 
you myself. You understand, dear, that if I can believe you now and you do tell me the truth, I 
will never have reason to doubt you again. However, if you are lying to me this time, I see no 
reason why you would not stop and lie to me always. Remember that. Now I ask you again."

I started to tremble. I did not know how she was planning to probe me in order to 
discover whether my hymen, recently shattered, was intact or not. I wanted to tell her what 
had happened to me, only to save myself.

And when I looked over at Rob again, peering quickly because I did not want her to think 
that I was lusting after him again, I could see that he had his arms folded across his chest and 
was looking over at Dave, He did not even want to make eye contact with me, possibly 
because he knew what was going to happen.

When I say possibly, I give him the benefit of the doubt, you see. Because one of the 
reasons they even agreed to bring me paper and supplies in the first place was because both 
of them felt bad about the things they had done to me and the punishment that followed 
once the Mother Superior discovered just where I stood as far as chastity was concerned.

"Yes," I finally gasped out at her, "I am sure of what I said."

"Then tell me something, my child," she said, moving her hand to my forehead and 
brushing my long blonde hair out of my eyes, almost the way mother used to do it to me 
when I was but young, "why couldn't your father give me a definite answer one way or the 
other when I asked him."

And so, Father, I started to tell the Mother Superior all about Jake and the games that the 
two of us had grown so used to playing. I told her about how we played in all our innocence, 
but, in the end, how nothing had happened even though you had caught the two of us 
together.

"And what age were you when this occurred?" she asked me.

"Ten," I said.

"Ten," she said, clucking her tongue against the top of her mouth. "And so you started to 
learn about the forbidden fruit when you were merely ten."

"I learned nothing," I insisted. "It was only a game."

"The harlots in town think that it is only a business," she said to me, and she started to 
laugh. The other nuns laughed with her. "They say it is only a business and you tell me now 
that it is only a game."

I could hear the echoes of their laughter and it was ringing through my brain.

"No," I protested, "you do not seem to understand. We never did anything with each 
other. I would never let him."

"We shall see about that," the Mother Superior said to me. "Rob, bring me a burning stake,
if you please."

"Yes, Mother Superior," he said to her.

I watched as he took a stake lying by the furnace, opened the metal door, then stuck the 
stake in so that a flame caught on at the tip of it. He pulled it out, closed the door, and walked
over to the head nun.

The flame was shooting up, yellows, reds, oranges and blues, looking so terrifying as he 
brought it closer to me.

I guess I started to shiver because of what she said to me next.

"There is no reason for fear," she said. "I am just going to probe your insides in order to 
see if there is still your virgin skin. Only if you are lying to me, then there is a great reason for 
fear."

Need I say more about the way I was feeling. Fear was running through every nerve in my 
body. I did not know for sure if she would be able to tell about my chaste or unchaste state by
examining me the way she was planning to. I had the courage behind me of knowing that a 
woman's vaginal tunnel could sometimes be deep and maybe, even with the firelight, she 
would not be able to see inside of me.

I watched as Rob moved the flame closer to my flesh. I could feel the heat moving closer 
to me, and it scared me. I knew that at any minute the flame could come into actual contact 
with my skin and sear my flesh right off.

The two other nuns moved down toward my pussy, and I felt their hands moving closer to 
my pussy lips. Before I knew what was happening they were pulling my lips wide apart and the
Mother Superior was beginning to look up my cunt. I could feel her finger moving over my 
clit, the button now exposed with my lips wrenched right apart, and she seemed to be playing
with it, massaging it a little and making it stiffen.

"The button to all your pleasure," she said to me, "all your unGodly pleasure. The evils that 
Satan has put on the earth to torment us and bring us away from God."

"But God made the human body," I said to her. "Satan had nothing to do with it. We are all
from God and... " I groaned as I felt her violently twisting my twitching little clit through her 
fingers, felt the bolt of pain shoot throughout my entire body, raised my ass up off the table 
just a little so that she would lose her grip on my clit. And she did. But I had momentarily 
forgotten about the fire so close to me and I felt the burning heat of it as the flame actually 
came into direct contact with my skin. I could smell the searing flesh, and the flame was 
immediately pulled back.

"That was a foolish thing to do," the Mother Superior said to me. "It was a foolish thing to 
do and to say. My dear, you must understand that I am here to help you. I am here to help 
bring you closer to God. Carnal knowledge is a sin in God's eyes, and if you have committed 
the act, well then, you first must admit to it and then you must beg his forgiveness."

"But, I... "

"Do you want to make a confession?" she asked, her voice booming.

"No," I said meekly. Perhaps, and I'll never be quite sure, Father, I would have confessed to 
her right then and there, maybe even lied and told her that the loss of my maidenhood had 
been Jake's doing and leave the two boys, the two servants of the head nun out of it all, but 
her voice was just too terrifying and I could not see myself admitting to anything then.

"Very well, we will continue."

My lips were spread wide once more, so wide that I could feel the pain even then. The fire 
was brought closer to my tunnel so that the Mother Superior could look up at my redness. I 
felt her finger beginning to probe deep within my cunt, rubbing her way around my dry walls. 
I could feel her nails actually scratching the tender skin of my inside, and it seemed like she 
was in some kind of a frenzy to try and discover just where I stood as far as sex went.

I felt her slide three fingers deep within me, and I was looking at her face the whole time. 
At first, before probing me so deep, she seemed a bit content, but then, as she felt the way 
her fingers could slide in even more, felt that there was no hymen barrier to keep her fingers 
from penetrating me all the way, her eyes seemed to turn into pure hatred, her face 
contorting and her lips curling at the side.

"Well, Mother Superior?" one of the other nuns, both of them younger than the woman by
the way, said to her. "Have you come to a conclusion?"

"I am not sure," she said to the nun. "For the girl's sake, Anise that is, I will have to explore 
her in another way."

"But why?" the second nun asked her. "Can you not tell already?"

"Of course I can, Sister Maria," she said to the other nun, the one who was standing on my 
right and still holding my cunt lips spread wide. "I can tell that she had no hymen to speak of, 
that her vagina seems very responsive to touch, and that can only lead me to the conclusion 
that our young virgin has been lying to everyone, including the old man who bought her 
here."

"Lying," one nun said.

"Yes," the older woman said to her. "I would hate to think that this young girl has lied to 
us, and so, I must probe further."

With that, the Mother Superior was bustling her way over to the large wooden cabinet. 
She had her keys all on one chain, and I could hear the sound of them rattling as she pulled 
them out and inserted one into the lock. She opened up the cabinet and I heard the slow 
creaking of the door. Still, I never heard a footstep from the woman.

She was bending down and reaching for something, then turning back toward me.

I gasped when I saw what she held in her hand. It was a large wooden phallus, larger and 
thicker than any penis I had ever laid eyes on, including the large penises on some of the men 
who had mother. She was holding the phallus in the palm of her hand, pointing it straight up 
at the ceiling, and walking toward me in something that seemed to resemble a daze.

"We must explore her with this and see what we shall see," she said, and she was moving 
closer to me with that threatening object in her hand.

"What are you going to do?" I asked her, my voice trembling. I tried to clench my legs 
closed, but of course it was impossible lying on the table with the cuffs on my ankles.

"It is all quite simple, my dear," she said to me, moving the wooden phallus over my 
nipples, stiffening them and beginning a slow descent with the object all the way down my 
body. "It is all so simple. If you are a virgin, the blood on the wood, once you are penetrated, 
that will prove it all to me."

"But then I will no longer be a virgin," I said.

"Technically, no, but in your heart you will be. It will only be an inanimate object that has 
penetrated you, not the real thing. In your heart you will still be a virgin, but in your soul even 
closer to God, and that is what counts." She was moving the phallus over my belly then, and I 
was breathing so much faster at the time. I knew that there was going to be no blood because
there already had been, unless...

I began to pray to God. Yes, Father, one thing this whole experience did was give me a 
renewed faith in God. At least faith enough to pray to Him in the hopes that He would see the
wrong that had been done on me and somehow make blood appear. Once, so I had learned 
from the Bible, He told Moses to touch a stone and water flowed from the stone, enough 
water to quench the thirst of all the wandering desert tribes.

If God could make a miracle like that occur, I thought, He could certainly make an even 
smaller one occur, one for His daughter who had never been unfaithful to him in her whole 
life, except for what had happened with the boys a few minutes earlier. But He could not 
blame me for that. I had no choice.

And as I felt the Mother Superior fiddle with my clitoris just a little, felt my interior wetness
begin to build so that there was some kind of lubrication for her to work by, then felt it sliding
into me, I still had my faith.

Still had faith that blood would appear.

I could feel the Mother Superior pushing the phallus deeper and deeper into me and I felt 
the pain of my tunnel being stretched to proportions I had never before thought possible. 
When she reached a certain point with only a few inches inside of me, she lunged it in with 
one long thrust. I gasped and thrust my ass off the table, feeling the object sinking in deeper. I
could feel my pussy beginning to spasm because, for some reason, the object was working on 
my clitoris, the seed of my being, better than the boy's penis had done. I could feel an orgasm
beginning to build inside of me and the Mother Superior began to move the phallus in and 
out of me, faster and faster, while all looked on.

I didn't even notice then the way the two nuns were looking at me, the way one of them, 
having removed her hand from my cunt lips, was moving her own hand down her long black 
flowing habit and beginning to rub herself right between the legs. She was doing the whole 
thing so innocently that hardly anyone else seemed to notice, or if they had, it was a 
commonplace thing so it meant nothing to them.

I could feel my whole body beginning to tingle from... yes... I guess it must have been 
sexual pleasure, but at the hands of a piece of wood. The Mother Superior seemed to know 
how to work that thing in me, not only shoving it in and out of my body, but also turning it 
around so that my insides were really getting worked out.

I started to breathe heavier, I couldn't help it. I am sure that it is just the way the body 
functions during intercourse, although I had never experienced anything like that before. The 
Mother Superior was smiling as she saw the way my body was beginning to get involved with 
the pleasures she knew were occurring.

I hardly even knew what I was doing when I began to move my ass up and down off the 
table, getting into the thrusts of the phallus inside of me. I could feel sweat pouring off the 
soles of my feet, sweat running down from between my breasts, sweat running all over my ass.
It seemed as if I was working myself toward some kind of peak, and I have to admit that it was
nice.

"She acts like a whore," one of the sisters said.

"It would seem that way," the other one said, the one who was moving her hand over her 
pussy even though it was through her black robe. I could hear the way she was beginning to 
breathe a little heavier, and I wondered why no one but myself seemed to notice that fact. I 
guess they were all too busy watching me.

The Mother Superior worked me up faster, and then, all of a sudden, I could feel this 
explosion all over my body, and when I closed my eyes I could see colors everywhere. I felt my
cunt muscles starting to spasm around the phallus, felt the heavy contractions inside of me, 
felt the way it was harder for the head nun to move the phallus because of my contracting 
cunt. But she still managed to keep it working and for that reason alone I was grateful to her. 
For in keeping it working, she was also keeping the pleasures that I was feeling going.

At least for as long as she wanted to. For it all stopped so suddenly. I was still moving my 
ass up and down off the table when, all of a sudden, I felt the phallus being pulled out of me. I
had my eyes closed by then, and in some ways I had forgotten what the whole experiment 
had been for, I had forgotten that the idea was for the Mother Superior to see some kind of 
blood there.

Obviously, she hadn't.

"This girl has lied to us," the Mother Superior said, yelling it out and letting her harsh 
words echo in the room. "I gave her a chance, again and again to come up and confess the 
truth of her carnal sin. Yet she has lied to me, and as a result, she must be severely punished."

"But," I started to say.

"Then she must learn to beg our forgiveness, to beg God's forgiveness, because it is only 
when she admits the truth that the Lord will even look at her to hear her repentance of her 
sins. Only when she admits the truth out loud that He will want to even hear her words."

I could feel a general bustle in the room. They were all moving away from me, and when I 
looked around I could see five sets of eyes, all directed at me, all looking at me as if I were the 
Devil himself.

I sometimes thing, now, three days later, that the Mother Superior is the Devil.

I watched as the Mother Superior backed up against the cabinet which she had still kept 
open. She bent down just a little, I couldn't even hear her knees crack, and she was reaching 
behind her into the cabinet. She was pulling out something, l could not tell what, nor did I 
care to see.

But then, all of a sudden, she was running at me, and I could see her swinging a large 
leather whip over her head, see it moving in circles as she moved closer and waved it right 
over me, so ominously.

"You are a sinner," she yelled, and all of them were echoing her words then. I could hear 
the word "sinner" ringing through my mind a thousand times, so much so that I hardly even 
noticed the first sting of the whip on my flesh.

But it was there. I looked up just in time to see the leather slithering across my belly, like a 
venomous snake. And as it was drawn across my flesh I could see the red lash mark that it had
left, see a small pool of blood beginning to rise to the surface of my skin, until it was a slow 
trickle.

She lashed me with the whip again and again, and each time another lash mark would be 
left on my body, on my belly, breasts, and legs. For some reason, she seemed to avoid my 
pubic area at first, at least with the whip.

"Sinner," she was yelling out, and not only were her words echoing because of the 
vastness of the room we were in, but the other four, the two nuns and the two boys were 
yelling out her words, too, echoing them also.

"Sinner, sinner, sinner!" they were all screaming.

I wanted to kill those boys then. I hated them for having put me through what they had 
put me through, hated them for even having touched me. It wasn't until three days later, 
when they dragged me to the room and threw me in, the room I sit in now as I wonder what 
else is to become of me, that they gave me their regrets.

"You could have lost it in many other ways," Rob said to me in the four-walled cell where I 
now sit. "You could have lost it doing anything really physical. Have you ever rode a horse?"

"I don't care how I lost it," I said to them. "The tiling is what the Mother Superior thinks. 
That is all that counts. Had you left me alone, she would have found the blood she was 
looking for and then... "

"She would have found another excuse to torture you by," Dave said. "There are a few who
come her as virgins, and are virgins when the Mother Superior tests them."

"Oh?" I asked. "And what happens to them?"

"The same, the same. You cannot win either way."

I didn't know that at the time, and I was looking at Rob with scorn and hatred, not only 
because of the severe whipping I was taking but even more, because he was gallantly joining 
in on their chants of "sinner" when he knew perfectly well that I had not sinned at all, until I 
had been with him.

After about twenty lashes at the hands of the Mother Superior (it could have been more, I 
lost count, but I would never say less), she let the whip fall to the floor.

"Are you ready to confess your sins and take your punishment?" she asked me.

"I have not sinned," I insisted again. "I was good and pure until... "

"Someone fucked you!!," she yelled, spitting the words out in my face. "You were good and
pure once, until you let someone violate you. And once you have been violated there is no 
way that you will ever become good and pure again. Once you feel the Devil's pleasures 
taking over your body, you are lost to him and all that you crave is more and more 
satisfaction. That is not the way of God."

"What is?" I asked, and I barely know where I mustered the courage to talk to her like that.

"Goodness. Pureness. Loving Him and Him, only. Praying to Him so that he sees you 
through during your time on Earth and so He allows you up in Heaven when the time comes 
for you to go there."

She was standing right over me then, and she reached down and plucked at my nipple, 
twisting it hard. In some ways, it made me believe (a belief which I have since had confirmed) 
that she found pleasure in doing all this.

"Bring me the razor, Dave," she commanded to the fair haired boy.

He was fast on his feet, running to the cabinet and pulling out a long thick blade, 
connected to a wooden handle.

"And bring me some hot water, and some soap," she said to him.

He ran out of the room, slamming the door behind him. I could hear the echoes once 
more, and by this time, my head was aching painfully from all the echoing that I had been 
hearing. I looked up at the evil Mother Superior.

"What are you going to do with me now?" I asked her.

"You refuse to repent... "

"I have nothing to repent for," I said to her.

"Your mouth says one thing, but your cunt says something else."

"Still, you have not told me what... " But just then, the door slammed open again. I 
watched as David walked into the room carrying a bucket of water. The Mother Superior told 
him to place it on the fire immediately, and he walked over and put it on top of the furnace. 
They still stood around me, leering, and the head nun was holding the razor in her hand. I 
thought for sure that she was going to cut my throat with it, and from the pain I was feeling at
the time, I would have been happy if she did. From the pain I had been feeling due to 
everything that had come before, and everything that followed, I still wish that she had. It 
would have made it all so much easier.

A few minutes later, she told Dave to bring over the bucket of water. He placed it on the 
floor beside the table, and the Mother Superior reached in with a cloth, wet it, and put the 
cloth on my vagina.

I screamed out in pain. The water had been boiling, having sat on the fire for so long, and I
could feel the scorching water burning at my flesh. She started to add more and more water, 
then began to rub some soap into my pubic patch, thin as it was. I could see the soap building
up there as she rubbed it in, until my entire pubic patch was just a mass of soap.

She reached down for the bucket of water and inserted the razor in it. When she touched 
my flesh I felt the scorching metal of the razor, and ever so slowly, she began to shave off my 
pussy hair, with broad strokes, not even caring one way or the other if she cut me or not. And 
she did. I could feel the razor cutting not only the fine blonde hairs, but also my skin around 
my pussy area. She would rinse off the combination of soap, hair, and blood, every so often, 
and I hated it because each time she would finish and the cleaned blade would touch my skin 
again, the heat from the still hot water would scorch my flesh.

She continued until my pubic area was completely shaved, and then she took the towel, 
wet it again with the boiling water, and started to wash away all the soap and blood remains. I
started to groan with pain as I felt it applied to my skin, and then, after she had wiped it all up,
I looked down and could see that my cunt was bare. There was no longer any hair there, and I 
could see my pussy lips clear as day, scorched and burning red.

"Rob," the commanded to the other boy, "get the ring."

I didn't know what she meant by that, but I saw the boy rushing out of the room. Again 
the door was slammed, and I was under the impression that they were only doing it to 
frustrate me because no one else seemed to mind.

I waited until Rob came back with the ring. It looked like an ordinary ring, with a thin wire 
through it. When the Mother Superior held it in her hand, she dangled it over my face for a 
few minutes.

"There are other things I must attend to right now," she said to me. "Much more important
things, and as a result I must leave you alone. There is only one way I can be assured of your 
virtue, now that I know the slut you really are."

She moved her hand down to my naked cunt again and I could feel her pulling on my lips. 
Then, all of a sudden, there was a sharp pain running through my entire body. I felt something
like a pin pricking my pussy lips which were being stretched at the hands of the Mother 
Superior. She was sticking me with the ring, and I felt it moving through one lip. Then she was 
pushing it through the other lip, and an even greater bolt of pain shot through me.

I heard a faint click, I was so drowsy from pain, and then she was pulling away. She walked 
to the head of the table and raised my face so I could see.

"Now I can be assured of your faithfulness, at least so long as you wear what you're 
wearing right now."

I gasped when I saw that she had pushed the ring through my cunt lips, and had shut it 
closed. My pussy was shut forever, so it seemed, or as long as I had that ring in me. No one 
would be able to enter me.

"And here," the Mother Superior said, "is the key to the lock. No one will be able to open it
without my knowledge."

She started to laugh, and when I spread my legs a little so that my cunt would naturally 
spread open, I saw how good her device was. My lips didn't part at all.

I could see that there were a few drops of blood dripping from the holes she had pierced 
in my lips, but that didn't seem to bother her at all. She just seemed content and satisfied in 
the fact that she had closed me, put a rough form of a chastity belt on me so that no one else 
would be able to violate me, at least until she wanted it done, which wasn't much later.

"Chain her up to the wall," I heard her command.

I could feel the cuffs on my wrists being opened and I didn't even have a chance to rub the
circulation back into them. Because the chains on my legs were opened just as fast, and I felt 
the two boys carrying me over to the wall where I had previously seen the handcuffs and 
manacles.

They thrust me back against the stone wall, and I felt my hands being raised above my 
head, then click. I was trapped with those cuffs, and then I felt the steel around my ankles. As 
soon as they let go of my I let all my weight hang because I was just too weak to stand on my 
own two feet. I could feel my wrists holding up all my weight, feel the joints that held my arm 
to my shoulder pulling. The Mother Superior walked over to me and she slapped me across 
the face, hard.

But I was so weak from pain already that one extra slap did nothing more to me.

"You will learn, by the time I am through with you, to beg for punishment for the sins you 
have committed. Only then will the Lord look down upon you and decide whether He wants 
to waste His time showing mercy to scum like you."

"But the Lord shows mercy to everyone who repents," I said.

"Almost," the Mother Superior said. "Your case could be different."

And then, she and her cronies turned to leave. I heard the thunderous roar of the wooden 
door, the all too familiar echoing of the slam, and mercifully, I fainted into a deep sleep.





CHAPTER FIVE


I do not know how long I was out for, but the rest did not even do me any good. For the 
minute I opened my eyes, trying to see where I was because of the total blackness of the room
(probably, I reasoned, because it was some time during the night) and then I could feel the 
pain shooting through my body once again.

It all started to come back to me, where I was, how I had been abused. When it tried to 
squeeze my legs together, I could hardly move them, but still, I could feel the ring near my 
cunt, and that brought back other memories. Memories of being used by the boys, of being 
found unchaste by the Mother Superior, being whipped for it and eventually having this crude
form of a chastity belt placed over me to assure that I would not wander into that sin again.

"Help," I started to scream, but my voice only came out low. My throat was dry and I could
feel the word getting caught somewhere between my mind and my actual voice. "Help," I tried
again.

Father, you must understand that I did not think that there would be anyone to help me at
all. I knew that the only help would be anger and more torture. I just wanted someone, 
anyone, to be aware of the fact that I was up. I wanted something to drink so desperately, and
I wanted something to eat even more. I didn't even know if my voice could travel through that
thick wooden door, but it was my only hope.

I continued to yell, feeling the metal cuffs cutting into my wrists even more because I was 
certainly not aiding in keeping my body straight up. I was relying on the cuffs to keep me 
standing, my body being too weak.

Did I pass out again? I do not know. I do not know how much time went by because after 
a few minutes (hours?) I closed my eyes again, there being nothing to look at and keep my 
gaze on something, everything being too black.

I opened my eyes again when I heard voices talking. Since I had only met two males in the 
Convent so far, and since I had heard them talk quite a number of times before, it wasn't hard 
for me to figure out who was doing the talking. I could hear Dave and Rob, seeming like they 
were only inches away from me.

"What do you think?" I heard Dave's voice ask.

"I don't know. She looks dead to me."

"Do you think that she is?"

"Of course not," Rob said, but I could tell that he was not definitely sure. "Do you think 
that the Mother Superior would be foolish enough to let the girl die?"

"I guess not."

Then I felt a hand on my breast, and I tried to hide my shock. For it was only at that 
moment when I realized just how close they were. They didn't even have to walk closer to 
touch me. They were right there.

"No, she's breathing," Dave said to Rob.

"It's too bad, isn't it?"

"What is?"

"Come on, Rob, you know what I'm talking about. It's too bad that the Mother Superior 
clipped her closed because now we can't use her anymore."

"Of course we can," Rob said to him. "Dave, you always seem so smart but sometimes I'm 
amazed at how stupid you can possibly be."

"What are you talking about?" Dave's puzzled voice said.

And then, almost as if he wanted to show Dave what he was talking about, I could feel Rob
pulling at my body, pulling it away from the wall as much as the chains that held my ankles 
would give him leeway for. He started to move behind me, and I could feel his hand probing 
near by clenched buttocks. I couldn't believe it when I felt him starting to move his finger into 
my asshole. I could feel a burning pain, and it was only then that I said something.

"What are you doing?"

"So, you're awake," Dave said to me, and he reached over and pinched my nipple.

"Yes, I'm awake."

"Then you know what I'm going to do," I heard Rob's voice say from behind, and then, all 
of a sudden, I could feel his hardness pressing against my ass. I felt him starting to rub the 
head of his swollen cock against my buttocks and I kept them clenched as tightly as I possibly 
could.

"Please don't do that," I said, trembling.

"You're only going to make it harder for yourself," was the response "Don't you realize that
it's going to happen anyway and the more you resist the more pain it's going to cause in the 
end."

I knew that he was right, and I let my buttocks ease up a little. But there was nothing that I 
could do about the size of the hole he was getting ready to enter and the size of the cock that
he was going to enter me with. It was just too large and I never thought that I'd be able to 
take him in.

But he started to force his way into me, and I could feel my skin seemingly tearing off as 
he drove deeper in. Dave was standing in front of me, playing with my nipples, and when he 
saw what a hard time his friend was having entering me, he kind of pushed me back, impaling 
me on the giant stake between Rob's legs. I could feel a tremendous bolt of intense pain 
shooting through my body, and I grunted a little.

Dave moved his lips to mine and kissed me, playing with my nipples the whole time while 
Rob continued to fuck me from behind. I could feel his hot and hard balls hitting my buttocks 
each time he thrust in, and I could feel the painful sweat dripping off my body. They 
continued to use me, until Rob felt his cock beginning to pulsate. I felt his cream shooting out 
into my ass and it happened a few times before he started to go limp.

"That was good," he said to Dave.

And Dave, not wanting to be outdone by his brother in pain, decided that he would have 
to try it next. As soon as one cock was pulled out of my ass, the other one was moving behind
my body. It was a little bit easier to take the second one in, my asshole lined with the cream of
the first cock, still, I would not say that there was anything at all pleasurable about what was 
happening.

For them, maybe, but, Father, there was nothing pleasurable for me.

After Dave had emptied himself into my ass, I was toweled off. They always seemed to 
want to rub away the come so that there would be no evidence about my physical abuse, no 
evidence that the Mother Superior would have if I were to tell her what these two boys were 
really doing to me, if I were to tell her that they were the ones who had violated me, causing 
me to lose my hymen. They were the only ones and I was forced.

"You have been very good to us," Dave said, panting and stuffing his now limp penis back 
into his pants. "Maybe one day we will be able to do the same."

"The only thing that you could possibly do for me is to help me escape," I said.

"Escape?" Rob said, laughing. "You would think we were crazy. There is no reason for us to 
help you escape, and no way for you to accomplish it."

"Why?"

"Because there are other things in store for you."

And then I could feel them working the locks that held my wrists. I was so relieved to feel 
the metal handcuff being released, and as they started to work the lock on my feet, I rubbed 
some life back into my torn and ragged hands. It was so good to be able to touch my own 
flesh again, even if each touch did bring back a reminder of the pain that I had suffered.

Once my legs were free, the two boys were grabbing me, each taking one arm, and they 
started to drag me down the hall. They dragged me because I was too weak to walk and keep 
up their pace, so I just let my feet slide across the cold stone floor. Once we were out the door
and back in the vast stone hall I had been led down before (who could even remember how 
long before) I felt a chill all over my body. It was really only then that I remembered my 
nakedness, and it was cold outside.

"Where are you taking me now?" I asked, tears running down my cheeks. The tears were 
from the pain, but they were also an attempt to tug on the hearts of the boys, hoping that 
they might have some sympathy..

"The Mother Superior wants to see you in her private chamber. She wants you to repent, 
and you would be better off for it."

"But there is nothing for me to repent for," I said to Rob. "You know as well as I that I was a
virgin until you took me."

"And you must never tell anyone else," he said, threateningly. He moved his arm under my
neck and squeezed it very tightly, making my lose my breath for almost a minute. "Do you see
how weak you are? I could have broken your neck in a second. Remember that if you ever 
think of telling the Reverend Mother what happened."

I closed my eyes and just let myself be dragged. There was no use my even seeing what 
was going to befall me, because as far as I was concerned, it was going to happen no matter 
what. I could feel them making turns down the hall, and then I noticed that I was being 
dragged down some stairs. I could feel a dampness all around me and could feel my feet 
hitting each step as we descended.

"I thought you said that we were going to see the Reverend Mother," I said, half-groggy 
with pain and hunger. "Where is her office?"

"We are not going to her office, foolish girl," Dave said to me. "We are taking you to the 
dungeon, and there the Reverend Mother will come to meet you."

I couldn't believe it, first of all, that they even had a dungeon, and second, that was where 
they were taking me. I had always heard such awful stories about dungeons from old knight in
shining armor stories.

And I decided to keep my eyes open the whole time going down. I could see that the 
small rounded room was lit with candles on the wall. I could see one or two other girls 
chained to the wall, their bodies looking like they had been beaten and brutalized. In the 
middle of the room was a large furnace, so at least there was some warmth, but then I saw 
something else.

Rat holes. And peeking its head out of one of the holes was a small, threatening looking 
rat. I could see his black eyes gleaming, and when I looked closer at some of the girls I could 
see that there were teeth marks on their bodies.

The two boys tied to up to these handcuffs which were suspended from the ceiling, 
wrapping the rope tightly around my wrist so that the circulation seemed to be cut off for 
good this time.

Then they walked out, not even saying anything more to me. I heard a door slamming at 
what I suspected was the foot of the stairs. I just stood there, totally naked, a flickering furnace
light being the only thing in the room to see by, and I looked over at the rat hole. I could see 
the disgusting little creature sticking his head out, sniffing, and then beginning to move out a 
little more. I watched as he sniffed his way over to my feet, and I could feel his wet horrid nose
touching my toe.

"God," I said to myself, but out loud.

"Don't move," I heard one of the girls say to me.

"What?"

"Don't move or the rat will be sure to bite your foot. Just stay as still as you possibly can 
and he might sniff around for a few more minutes, get bored, then leave you alone."

"It's frightening," I said.

"You don't have to tell me," the girl said, and I wished that I could have looked at her, but 
that would have meant turning my head and shifting my body. "I was bit many times, not only
on the foot, but the rat climbed up my body."

"Oh, God," I said, trembling all over.

"What are you here for?" one girl asked, a different voice.

"I don't know," I said. "I don't know what they're going to do with me. All I know is that I'm
supposed to say I was a slut and then confess to everything that I did. But I'm not."

"It would be a good idea if you changed your attitude," another girl said. "It would save 
you a great deal of pain if you just came out and admitted it."

"But it's a lie," I said.

"No matter, they'll never know."

"I don't think that I could do that."

Just then, I heard the door at the foot of the stairs slam. A few footsteps could be heard 
and I was counting them, just to see how many people there were and how many steps there 
were. I counted four people but lost count of the steps. I wasn't surprised, at this point, 
however, to see that there were five of them, the Mother Superior leading her bunch of 
cronies.

"Well, Anise," she said to me, "are we ready now?"

"Ready for what?" I asked her.

"Come, come, child, don't be insolent. You know that I want a full confession from you. You
know that I want to know about the men you have been with, for only when you first confess 
will you be able to repent for it."

"And what if I refuse to confess?" I asked. I did not know where I mustered the strength 
then. Had I been beaten the way I was earlier, and had it been the end of a session with the 
Mother Superior, I know that I would have confessed. But this was only the beginning of 
session two.

I felt her fingers move down to my shaved mound, and she started to pull at the ring she 
had put through my lips. I felt a fierce bolt of pain shooting through my entire body, and 
winced. The rat had disappeared and that was the only saving grace of the whole episode.

"You are telling me then," she said, twisting the ring a little more and pulling so hard that I 
thought my pussy lip skin was going to rip right through, "that you are good and pure and 
have nothing to confess."

"I had nothing to confess," I said to her.

"And now?"

"Now I still have nothing."

"Sister Maria," I heard the Mother Superior say, sternly and with much authority. She held 
out her hand, and I watched as the younger nun moved closer to her mentor, then placed 
something in her hand.

The Mother Superior moved her hand to my nipples, and all of a sudden, I felt something 
pinching clamping to them, seeming to sink right into them, seeming to almost cut right 
through them and cut them off. When she pulled her hands away I could see two small 
clamps with rigid teeth cutting into my hardened and much abused nipples.

"Do you still refuse to talk?" she asked.

"I will confess," I said to her, "I will confess that I have never found the pleasures in sex."

"Meaning?"

"That I have felt pain, pain the way it should not be, but I have never experienced the 
pleasures that should come."

"How do you know there are pleasures then?"

I did not want to tell her about the way I had felt with the wooden phallus at first, or the 
times when I had spied my mother with the men. I could see the looks of pleasure on her face,
and I knew what she had to be feeling.

"I don't know," I said to her, lying.

"Then you will find out," she said to me. "Sister Maria."

The young nun stepped forward again, and this time the Mother Superior reached over 
with her hands and started to pull up the black habit that the girl was wearing. I could see that
she had a thick red bush of pubic hair since she was not wearing any kind of underclothing.

"Release her hands," the Mother Superior said to the two boys, and I could feel them 
untying the ropes that held me captive.

Once free, I fell to the floor from lack of strength. I could feel the cold hard bricks of the 
floor scraping my knees and my hands. I looked up and could see the Mother Superior and 
Sister Maria standing right in front of me.

"Eat her," the Mother Superior said to me.

"What?"

"I said I want you to eat her cunt," she commanded. "I want you to learn, to see and learn 
the pleasures a woman can feel, and then maybe you can answer my question a little better, 
without these stupid answers you give me."

I could not see myself doing what the older woman commanded but all of a sudden, I felt 
myself being pushed from behind and my head was buried in the red hair of the younger 
sister.

"With your tongue," the Mother Superior said, and she slapped me on my naked ass, so 
hard that I could feel the pain shooting throughout my body. When I turned around to see 
what she had hit me with, I noticed she was holding a paddle with spikes on it. She smiled at 
me and held up the paddle, with warning, to tell me that if I didn't start I would feel another 
blow.

So I started. I moved my tongue to the lips of the young sister and started to lick them. 
One thing that I figured was her juice, no matter how distasteful it might be, would still be 
some kind of liquid to soothe my throat, something of substance to get into my aching 
stomach.

As I licked her lips I could feel them getting more and more wet. Soon my tongue was 
sliding right into her cunt, and her legs were buckling. The two boys moved to her side to 
hold her up, yanking her legs even further apart. I started to stick my tongue deep into her 
cunt, feeling her stiffened clit rubbing over my tongue as I went in. I could taste some 
moisture inside of her, on her cunt walls, and I started to lick it off as fast as I could.

Flicking my tongue in and out of her cunt fast, trying to build up an even greater moisture 
at the same time that I was trying to lick off whatever was there. All I wanted was some kind of
satisfaction.

Sister Maria, though, seemed to be the one who was getting the satisfaction. I could feel 
the way she was beginning to spasm inside, feel the way her breathing was increasing and her
hot breath was hitting me on the back, hear the way she was starting to moan as I worked my 
tongue faster than ever.

Then, she exploded.

I could feel a gushing wave of her juice beginning to roll out and I worked my tongue as 
fast as I possibly could to lick it all up. The Mother Superior, meanwhile, was standing there 
watching us all, and when I was finished, having licked the young sister dry, having had my 
first taste of a woman, I turned to the older leader. Her smile was almost the same as the one 
on the young sister's face, almost as if she herself had come out of a satisfying orgasm.

"Now you know how the pleasure works," she said to me. "Have you ever experienced that
kind of pleasure before?"

It was not so much a question as it was a demand.

"I... I... " I felt the spiked paddle hitting me in the backside again, and this time a few of the 
metal spikes seemed to dig deep into my buttocks. I thought that I , was going to faint from 
the intense pain.

"You continue to falter," she said, "and you will continue to be punished."

"But I don't know," l said to her, "I don't know."

"How can you not know?"

"I don't know if I ever felt the kind of pleasure, felt the kind of spasms in my body that 
seemed to go through Sister Maria's."

"Then you do admit to having had carnal relations, is that what you're saying."

Witches, so it says, have always been sly, and never before in my life had I met someone as
sly as this Mother Superior. Her evil ways, her accusations and my denials in order to free 
myself of any further pain, seemed to work as a confession on my part, seemed to indict me. 
For what she was saying was true.

By confessing to the fact that I had never felt pleasure, I was telling her in so many words 
that my cunt had been penetrated before, that I had had carnal relations but just never felt 
the pleasure of it.

"No," I said, trying to back out of it, "I... " And then the paddle landed on my backside 
again.

"I take it," the Mother Superior's brutal voice said, "that we are going to have to give you a
little demonstration on your own body. I take it that we are going to have to let our two boys 
fuck you in order for you to tell me if you've ever experienced anything like that before."

I could feel the Mother Superior bending down over me, reaching for the small pussy lock 
ring from behind. She was inserting a key, and the next thing that I knew the lock was open 
and she was pulling it off.

"You will feel a cock now inside of you, inside of you deeply, and you will then confess to 
everything."

I watched as the two boys walked up to her and she reached for their cocks. I couldn't 
believe that a woman of God, a woman as Holy as this one was supposed to be, was actually 
touching a man's cock and seeming to enjoy it. She rubbed the two boys into a stiffness, 
moving her hand to stroke their balls every so often, too.

"Now my little pets," she said to them, "you will put on a demonstration for us. You will 
fornicate with this young girl, and make sure she feels pleasure so she can compare it to past 
experiences."

And they were both on me like two wild dogs who have gone unfed for days and finally 
uncover their meaty prey.

Rob rolled on the floor and they rolled me on top of him. I could feel his hardness near my
ass, and he started to plunge his way deep into me. I was thrust backward so that my back 
was on his chest, and I could feel Dave moving between my legs, guiding his hard blond cock 
to my now open and exposed cunt. He rubbed the head of his penis where my hair had been, 
moaning because of the smooth and pleasant feeling he was most likely getting.

Then, he plunged his meat deep into me. I could hear him grunt the minute he was all the 
way in me, and then I felt the two of them beginning to move, almost at the same time, 
plunging their large cocks in and out of my two orifices at the same time.

"Is the pleasure building?" the Mother Superior said, moving closer so that she could get a
better look at what was going on.

It certainly was not. The woman might have seen me being violated at the time, might 
have actually seen the penetration of my cunt and knowing now that I had experienced the 
sensation of cock. But still, I could not feel the pleasures that she seemed to think were an 
inherent part of fucking. All I could feel was the pain of my scratched insides, the pain of 
something too large penetrating my asshole, and the disgusting slime and sweat of the two 
boys who were rolling with me in the dirty dungeon.

I started to moan a little as I felt my breathing coming slower, and the Mother Superior 
seemed to take this as a sign that I was enjoying it even more. She seemed to be laughing, 
and there was no questioning the fact that she was the one in charge of everything that was 
happening. Sister Maria and the other nun were standing there watching, too, and they both 
seemed to be getting more and more excited by what they saw happening.

It reached the point where I started to spasm inside, but it was all involuntary on my part. 
It was just the natural reaction of a cock brushing over my clitoris, I realized, because I was not
feeling any of the pleasure that was supposedly associated with the carnal act.

It took a few minutes for each of them to get off, and I felt the one in my cunt beginning 
to spasm first. The one in my ass shortly followed, and I was somewhat relieved to feel them 
both falling out of me, although I did wonder what the evil Mother Superior was planning 
next for me. She watched as the two boys rolled away from me, and then she interceded.

"Can you deny the pleasure?" she yelled at me.

"Yes, I can," I spit back at her. "You can call that pleasure? For who, me, or for you, standing
there and creaming as you watched?"

I watched as she drew her foot back and then lunged it out at me, kicking me right in the 
stomach. I doubled over in pain, but not fast enough for another blow to hit me, this one 
harder than the first. It was the first time I had ever realized she had feet because of the 
silence of her walk.

"You filthy scum," she yelled at me, "how dare you."

Her feet continued to kick me, and I could feel my flesh aching as I squirmed on the cold 
ground to try and get away. But there was really nowhere for me to go and I had to face the 
brunt of her blows, each one more hideous than the previous one.

After I had passed out, from lack of food, from the pain, from so many different factors, I 
don't remember what happened. I don't even remember how long I was out for, but was 
awakened with a splash of cold water on my face.

I could feel the chilled water running down my naked breasts, having hit me on the face, 
and then I was fluttering my eyes open. I was chained to the dungeon wall, just like the two. 
girls I had seen there before. I squinted to try and make out some kind of an image, but was 
temporarily blinded. Soon, after much squinting, my vision began to return to me, and I could 
make out the cloaked form of the Mother Superior standing right in front of me.

"We thought that you were dead," she spit out at me.

"Would it have made any difference if I was?" I asked her.

"Of course dear," she said to me. "I am only doing all this for your own good, and you 
have not yet confessed of your sins. And that is only the first step. Had you died, your soul 
would have rotted in hell."

"Is that the way it works?" I asked her, snidely.

"What do you mean?"

"You, the mediator between God and the Devil himself," I said. "You make all of us confess 
to keep us from going to hell and living the way of the Devil. But you seem to always make us 
confess in a Devilish way."

She slapped me across the face, wrenching my neck, but I continued to talk.

"And then, when we are cured, we can go to heaven? Well, if this is what it takes for me to 
go to heaven, then all I can say is I would prefer to rot in hell. I would prefer to let my soul 
bum there, because, Reverend Mother, I would like to be there to keep you company when 
you arrive."

She slapped me across the face again and again. I could hardly even feel the pain because 
my body was so numb by this time.

"You insolent girl," she said to me. "Do you think that I don't have the power now to smite 
you off the face of the earth?"

"Oh, are you putting yourself in God's shoes now? Or are you God himself? Tell me, 
Reverend Mother, for if you are God I know to worship the Devil."

I could see the anger rising inside of her, moving up as her face reddened.

"I will you to be quiet," she said to me.

"I will that I talk. You call yourself a daughter of God. You are a daughter of the Devil 
himself, if anything. But God. God would not put someone as vile and disgusting as you on his
earth."

All of a sudden, she seemed to calm down a little bit.

"I see that I will have a hard time making you confess. But there are countless ways that I 
have not tried yet, ways that I did not want to try because, my dear, there was something 
special that I could see in you, something that pulled my heart out toward you. But your 
obstinacy had changed all that and my blood runs cold."

And then, she was turning around and walking over to the furnace. I watched as she 
reached under her habit and pulled something out, then inserted it into the fire. She turned 
around and walked closer to me. I could see that she had a metal phallus in her hand, and it 
was glowing from heat, a bright red-orange. I don't know how she managed to hold it in her 
hand because of the heat emanating from it.

Can she really be the Devil, Father? He plays with fire.

She moved the heated phallus closer and closer to my exposed pussy. I started to tremble 
and tried to back away, but my buttocks were already flush against the wall and there, was 
nowhere else to go.

"Please," I begged her, "have mercy on me."

"I can have mercy," she said to me, smiling, "but God on High, He is the One who counts.

He is the One who must show His mercy, and he will not show it unless you have 
confessed your sins."

And I could feel the hear of the phallus moving closing to me, feel my skin searing off of 
my body as it came into direct contact with me, feel my pussy lips searing and the smell of 
burning flesh as she started to drive the phallus deep into my exposed cunt, without once 
stopping, plunging it all the way in.

I could feel the flesh inside of me ripping off, burning and sticking to the phallus, and the 
Reverend Mother continued to move it back and forth as fast as she possibly could.

"Please!!!" I screamed out und the only thing that I could hear was the shattering echo of 
my own voice. "Please!!"

"Confess! Confess!" she was yelling, and finally, it reached a point where I could do 
nothing else.

The pain was too intense, and if a confession was what she wanted, what would make her 
remove the smoldering phallus from within me, then it was what I was going to give her, all 
that I cared to give her.

"I confess!" I screamed out, thinking that was all.

"What do you confess to, child?" she asked, still working me with the phallus.

"I confess to having had carnal sin. I confess to the sin of sexual intercourse, to the sin of 
having had a man enter me and use me."

"And you confess to having enjoyed it, too," she screamed at me.

All I could hear was her frenzied voice yelling out, the echoes, and my voice yelling out 
right after hers, confessing to anything that she wanted.

"Yes," I screamed out, the pain almost unbearable, gripping onto whatever life I had left 
inside of me because the weakness was beginning to overcome me, "yes I have had carnal 
intercourse and I have enjoyed it."

"Tell me about it," she said, pulling the phallus from me.

"What?"

There was a tense silence as we looked each other dead in the eye. She let the phallus fall 
to the floor and moved her fingers over to my scorched pussy. She touched my lips and I 
could feel the pain of the bum. intensified.

"Tell me about your sins. Let God hear the things that you have done."

"But He sees all," I said to her.

"Tell me."

And so, I started to tell about everything that I had done. I told her all about the things 
that I had seen mother doing with the men, the way the two men had fucked her and beaten 
her. When I was through I thought it would be over, but she slapped me again and made me 
tell her all the things that I had done. She did not want to know anything about mother, she 
told me, because I was the sinner involved.

So I lied, forgive me Father, but I lied.

I had to lie, for I had had no sin before coming to the Convent and I couldn't very well tell 
her about the things that Rob and Dave had done to me. It wasn't that I was concerned for 
their well-being, but somehow, I knew that if I protected them by lying for them, they might 
someday help me.

I told her all about my sins with Jake, making them up and telling her that we had 
fornicated, that the time you found us Father, he had finished with me already and I was just 
getting us something to eat. I lied about it to her, Father. I want you to know the truth, and 
that is the fact that nothing did happen between us. We were both naked, that is true, but no 
actual contact was made between us.

When I was finished telling her all about it, she was still not content.

"That cannot be all of your sins," she said to me. "You could not have felt a man and 
waited such a long time to feel him again. A man is like a disease. He spreads himself all over 
your body. If you had felt a man's lust once, that could not have been all for you."

"But it was," I insisted.

"Confess to it all," she said, and she was reaching on the floor for the phallus again. She 
threatened to immerse it in the flames, seeing as how the heat had worn itself off. But when I 
saw her getting ready to do that, I started to confess some more, confess to sins with men 
that I did not even know. I didn't care, either, because they say that God sees all we do, and I 
knew that God could tell I was lying in my heart to save my body.

I told her about doing it with more than one boy, which was true to a point, although the 
two boys were none other than the slaves of the Mother Superior. I told her that I lusted after 
men, body and soul, just like all normal women do once they have had their taste of a man.

And she seemed to buy everything that I told her, but in the end, she used the heated 
phallus on me once more, searing my flesh to "cleanse me of anything that remained behind,"
as she put it. But I was passed out cold before the actual pain started to intensify. Thank God 
for small miracles.





CHAPTER SIX


And now I am here. I remember being dragged into this room, I remember the pain on my 
body, I remember all that happened to me. I am glad that I have had the chance to record it 
all. The two boys told me, that in total, it amounts to three days that I have been in the 
Convent.

Father, do you remember when you used to tell me how five hours at work seemed like a 
lifetime? Well, you'll never know what a lifetime in three days seems like unless you have lived 
the way I have lived.

So now I have confessed to my sins. Sins that I have committed, yes, have been forced to 
commit, and sins that I have not committed but, in order to save my own life, have confessed 
to anyway. I remember the Mother Superior telling me that after my confession comes my 
repentance. I cannot help but wonder what she means by that and what will happen to me 
next.

Still, I have some kind of faith, l know not from where it comes. I have some kind of faith 
that my friendship with the two boys. Dave and Rob, will somehow help me in the end. If only 
I could, convince them to help me escape. Father, would you help them if they helped me and 
had nowhere to go because of it? I know it is foolish to ask questions because I get no answer
and still...

Oh, God, I hear someone coming. I must hide this.



* * *



I can barely move, I am so weak.

I lie on the floor of my cell here, and it is almost three months since my last entry in my 
journal. Three months can seem like nothing on paper. I look back at everything that I have 
written, and then I see that three months passes between two lines. But another lifetime has 
been lived through within that time, my body has suffered more tortures and abuses.

But I will start at the beginning, from the moment I heard the footsteps approaching my 
cell. There was, I had noticed a while back, a very loose stone in the wall. At times, in the 
darkness when the candle had burned and there was no light to write by, I would move near 
that stone and start to jiggle it. It was a vain hope on my part that the stone would come 
loose and there would be an escape for me. Vain because, when I finally did manage to loosen
the stone enough, I could see that there was more wall behind it. The walls here are thick. 
There is no means for escape.

But what I did discover in behind the stones was a hiding place where I could store my 
manuscript. So as soon as I heard those footsteps approaching, I quickly pulled the stone and 
slid my diary there, then replaced it. Just in time, too, because there were the two boys, and 
there was Sister Maria.

"You will come with us now," Rob commanded.

"Where are you taking me?" I asked him.

"There is no need in your asking," he said. "It will be painful enough when you get there, 
but right now all that concerns you is you must come."

I could hardly stand, having only eaten the bread and water they had bought for me a few 
days back during my three days here. My stomach was empty, small, churning for more 
nourishment, but I knew it would be refused so I never bothered to ask.

I was dragged down the hall by the two boys, after they discovered that I did not have the 
strength in me to walk. I knew the corridors a little by then, so I could tell that they were 
leading me back down to the dungeon.

"Please," I whispered to one of the boys, "just let go of my arm and let me run out of here. 
Please. She doesn't have to know. You can just tell her that I escaped and you couldn't catch 
me."

"Don't be a fool," he said to me. "You are so weak. Do you think that the Mother Superior 
would believe that a weak girl like you, one who can hardly even stand on her own two feet, 
would be able to run from our grip?"

It was hopeless. I felt myself being dragged down the steps and just closed my eyes. The 
cold hit me immediately, the dankness and dampness of the basement his my naked flesh, 
and I could feel my arms being pulled as I was shackled into the chains on the wall. I decided, 
right then and there, that I was not going to plead anymore, I was not going to cry anymore.

I was going to be as strong as I possibly could.

I heard the sound of retreating footsteps, and when I opened my eyes I was in the room 
with one other girl. She was also chained to the wall.

"How long have you been here?" I asked her. She looked so weak and thin. I could see her 
bones sticking through her naked flesh, all of her ribs.

"I do not know," she said to me, groggily. "One does not keep track of time here. There are
no days. Only a beginning and an end. I was brought here at the beginning, and when I leave 
here, it will be the end."

"When will you leave here?" I asked her.

"When I repent," she said to me.

"And when will that be?"

"Never," she said to me. "I know that I will die here because there is nothing that they can 
do to me, no matter how torturous, how vile, that will make me confess and repent. I have not
sinned. They all have."

"I have confessed," I said to her.

"And now then, it would seem likely that the Mother Superior wants a repentance from 
you. Will you give her that satisfaction?"

"I do not know. I... " But my words were interrupted by the sounds of footsteps. I could feel
her tension mixing with mine as the steps moved closer and closer. We saw the frail figure of 
Sister Maria approaching us. She had a thick leather whip in her hand. She immediately 
moved in front of the other girl and stared her right in the face.

"Are you ready to confess?" she asked.

The girl did not say anything, and I could see the anger in the Sister's face rising more and 
more.

"I asked you a question," she said, and when the girl refused to answer again, I heard the 
swishing sound of the whip. It lashed out on her flesh, across her drawn breasts, across her flat
stomach and her thinned legs. I watched, amazed, at how this young novice could willingly 
inflict such punishment on anyone. Even a sinner, if that was what the girl was. For even the 
worst of sinners did not deserve the punishment that was being inflicted on this girl, did not 
deserve any of the punishments that I had yet encountered in the Convent.

God, if You hear me now as I write these words, then You know what is happening and it is 
up to You to do something about it. It is up to You to save us from the destructive wrath of 
the Mother Superior, who is the Devil himself.

I continued to watch the young girl being cruelly whipped, and then, after countless 
lashes, the nun began to draw back.

"Again," she said, "you have failed to confess. It has been a long time since you have been 
here, but you will stay an even longer time until you confess."

"Until I repent?" the girl asked, very groggy.

"Yes," the nun said.

"You will all rot in Hell before you get that from me," she said, the spite dripping from her 
every word.

I watched as the young nun pulled back her whip and lashed the girl again. One last time, 
but with even more force behind it than ever before. I saw the girl's entire body shudder at 
the feel of the leather that time, and then the young nun, Sister Maria, turned to me.

"You will be next," she said. "You have already confessed, and the Mother Superior will be 
down here to deal with you herself."

With that, we both heard the retreating footsteps of the nun. I could hear the young girl 
beginning to groan with pain then, groans that she later told me she was holding in all the 
time because she did not want to give the nuns the satisfaction of seeing her suffer.

"Do they get satisfactions out of watching us?" I asked her.

"Can you think otherwise?"

"But... "

"Don't be naive,, dear," she said to me. "Can you see any other reason for these tortures 
except for their satisfaction? This is not the way of the Lord. This is the way of sick demented 
people. I am glad that I never wanted to enter the Church, for if this is an example of the kinds
of people working in the name of God, then I do not ever want to be associated with them."

"Why are you here then, if you did not enter on your own?"

"I had nowhere else to go. My husband's farm was burned, my parents were killed by the 
Spanish Inquisition, and I thought that I could gain sanctuary in the Church."

"And do they whip you often?"

"Twice a day," she said to me, and I gasped. "You are new here and you will get used to it. 
As long as you are down here you will be whipped twice a day, in the hopes that they will 
make you repent."

"And you always refuse?" I asked her, feeling some pity for her. She had suffered so much 
before coming to the Convent and was suffering still.

God, be just!

"Yes," she said. "I am not afraid of dying. In some ways, I cherish the idea. It will be my only
peace."

"But if you do not confess, and then repent, you will end up in Hell."

"If there is a Hell," she said to me. "And I don't mind because if these nuns here are the 
kind of people who go up to Heaven, I do not want my soul with theirs."

I admired her for her strength, this young girl, whose name I later learned was Rose. Had it
not been for Rose, I think I would have suffered more.

Suffered the silence and desolation of the dungeon. But since she was there, and we were 
both in the same situation, we would talk with each other for hours, just to pass the time. We 
began by telling each other about the horrors we had encountered and after that was over, 
we decided to forget all about them (since they would be continuing day after day) and talk 
about happier times. She told me of her husband, who sounded like a nice man, told me of his
accidental death and her mourning for him. She said that she wanted to die to be with him.

And because of her courage, I found added courage in myself. I decided that no matter 
what they did to me, I would not repent for my sins. For as far as I was concerned anyway, my 
only sins were the ones inflicted upon me by these people of the Church. They should have 
been the ones to pay.

The Mother Superior came to see me my first day down there. She held a piece of bread to
my lips and let me eat, then she fed me some water, but only a little. My body longed for 
much more, and I think she knew the torture in satisfying my needs only a little bit.

"Are you ready to repent?" she asked me.

"For what?" I said to her.

"For the sins you have confessed to."

"I know that I have confessed to many sins," I said to her, "but it was a confession that only
came because of the tortures I suffered. If I could, I would take back that confession right 
now."

"Impudent child," she said, slapping me across the face.

And then my first lashing in the dungeon began.

The first of many, because, like my friend Rose, it was to become a twice daily ritual, the 
two of us beaten, one after the other. She was beaten to first get her confession, and I was 
beaten to get my repentance even though I had considered the fact that I had retracted my 
confession the first day.

We were fed one small meal at night, after all our energy had been drained from us. We 
were never released from the chains that held us, and we had to piss and defecate right below
our feet. The smell was unbearable, and twice a week a nun, someone I assumed who had to 
be punished for a wrongdoing, was sent down to clean up the mess beneath our feet.

I know that it was a month later because the Mother Superior told me so. She came down 
to see me one day, after countless whippings, and she stood in front of me, leering at me. She
moved her fingers to my pussy hair which had grown in thicker than the first time, and she 
started to pull on a few strands of the blonde curls, tugging at it hard. I was used to the pain 
by then, and it hardly even burned.

"I have been in contact with your father," she said to me.

My heart fluttered when she mentioned that to me and she could tell how eager and 
excited I was to hear of her news.

"He is not happy with what I told him," she said to me.

"And what was that?"

"I had to tell him the truth. I had to tell him that when you came here you were inspected, 
and we did not like what we found. I had to tell him that you were not a virgin, that you had 
been broken, and that we are now in the process of trying to get you to repent for all of it."

"And have you told him the nature of your punishments?"

"Somewhat, but you know that I could not tell him all. He would never understand the 
reasons for it."

"I don't understand them, either," I said to her. "Would you be so good as to explain them 
to me?"

"There is no reason for a sinner to know why she is punished," the woman said to me. "All 
you have to know is that you're a sinner."

"And you?" I asked, implying that if I were a sinner, she was no better off.

"I am the curer of your sins," she said to me.

"Have you heard from my father?" I asked her.

"Yes. He tells us that he is happy for the things we are doing, that he is sorry for you, for 
your wanton ways, and he says that had he known about you earlier, he would have punished 
you himself."

And then, she whipped me once more, in the vain effort of getting me to repent. Ten 
lashes was the usual punishment, carried out twice daily. So Rose and I each received twenty 
lashes a day, and after the first few days it was easy to stand up to the abuse. It became, like 
meals and defecation, part of the normal daily routine, no matter how grotesque it was.

It is easy for me to talk about all this now, since it is all in the past. My body still aches 
from the pain of the whippings. I do not think that there will ever be a time when my body will
not ache any longer. I think that I will always feel the abuse I had received in the Convent, 
provided, of course, that I live long enough to ever make it out of here.

For I have come to terms with death, come to the understanding that I could easily die 
anytime, and it no longer scares me like it once used to.

One would think that the horrors of the dungeon would have lessened once you got used 
to it, and in some ways, it did. There was still a bit of terror each time one was whipped, but 
when we were left alone, Rose and I would talk things out and we discovered that it lessened 
the pain.

But then, one day, I witnessed the death of my friend, Rose.

One day, the Mother Superior came down to the dungeon, followed by her two boy slaves
and two other nuns. The Mother Superior had taken to coming down less and less frequently. 
She had administered the punishment to me my first few days down in the damp cellar, but 
then she had stopped coming for punishment, and only for talks. But on this day, she walked 
over to Rose with a large leather whip.

"You have been here too long," she said to the girl. "You have been here too long and still 
you have nothing to confess. It is only in order then that you be beaten into a confession." 
And with that, she started to whip the girl harder than I had ever seen her do. She started to 
thrash her whole body, directing the whip toward Rose's red haired pussy most often. I could 
see my friend writhing in pain, hear her whimper as the whip continued to fall on her. Still, she
refused to confess, and I was happy for it.

"All right," the Mother Superior said, "we will have to try other means."

I watched as the two boys extracted two wooden shaped phalluses from their pockets and 
handed them to the evil nun. Ever so slowly she walked closer to Rose. I watched with horror 
the things that she did next.

She started to slide the phallus, the first one, over Rose's breasts, taunting her nipples into 
some kind of stiffness, whatever they could achieve in the worn state they were in. She moved 
the phallus down over the girl's belly and I could see Rose trembling as the wooden stake 
approached her cunt. In a few minutes the Mother Superior was shoving the phallus up the 
girl's cunt and I could hear Rose groan with pain. I could imagine the pain.

Because only a few days before, my friend had been telling me how much her vagina had 
been abused when she had first come to the Convent, and how she could hardly even get wet 
inside. She said that they had burned her insides so often that she did not function as a 
normal woman, her vagina getting wet with her secretions when her clitoris was stimulated.

"I am permanently dry," she said to me, almost crying about it once.

So I could imagine the pain that was shooting through her as the thick wooden phallus 
was shoved up her dry walled vagina. I could imagine the tearing of skin, possibly even a 
second layer because she had been abused only the day before and I am sure that her lining 
had not yet had the chance to heal.

But that was not enough for the evil Mother Superior, may her soul rot in Hell. May her 
soul not even reach Hell. May her soul just walk in purgatory for eternity.

After the first phallus was inside of Rose, and I could see it sticking out of her cunt as the 
Mother Superior backed away, she reached for another one, the one that Rob was holding. 
Naturally, I thought that she was going to try and insert it inside of Rose's asshole, something 
that I knew the Mother Superior to be an expert at. But was I ever wrong.

I watched as she pulled Rose's cunt lips apart even more and then proceeded to insert the 
second phallus up against the first. I could hear the screams coming from the girl as the 
Mother Superior forced the second one up her cunt, right alongside the first one.

"Confess, that is all I ask," the woman was screaming, and the nuns who had come down 
with her were both chanting for the saving of Rose's soul.

"You will never make me confess to any sins," she was screaming, "except for the sin of 
coming here and having encountered you. But that is not my sin. It is God's sin for having put 
someone like you on the Earth."

The Mother Superior slapped her hard across the face, and then reached down and with 
one shove pushed the second dildo into place.

I could see the agonized look on Rose's face then, see the terror-stricken pain, and I 
watched as pools of blood began to drip forth from her spread legs. I saw the phalluses 
beginning to slip out as the girl's own blood lubricated them enough to send them free of her
cunt. And the blood was gushing forth, dripping onto the floor and mixing with Rose's piss 
and shit which had not yet been cleaned up for the day.

"Confess, sinner," everyone except for me and Rose was chanting.

But she would not, and after about a half an hour of dripping and chanting, the phalluses 
slipped forth and splattered in the pooled blood beneath her feet. The Mother Superior 
backed away and looked at her two nuns.

"She will not confess," the older woman said. "I think that she has stood enough abuse, 
and still she will not confess. There is nothing more to be done. She will not confess under any
circumstances."

Then she turned to me.

"But you are different, my dear," she said to me. "You have known enough to confess. We 
only beg that you begin repentance."

And with that, she began to walk up the stairs with her cronies, the four of them swishing 
past me, their job done. I waited until I heard the sound of the door slamming behind them, 
and then I called for Rose.

"Are you all right?" I asked, knowing what I had seen but wondering how badly it had 
effected her.

"I am hemorrhaging," she said to me, and her voice had never sounded weaker. "I am 
hemorrhaging and there is nothing that I can do. But there is something that you can do for 
me."

"What is that?" I asked her.

"For your own sake, and for the sake of others, you must repent."

"What? Rose, we have been through this all together, for almost two months now. Three, 
possibly, I have lost all track of time. We had both decided that nothing they could possibly 
do would make us confess."

"But neither one of us probably ever realized that death was so near."

"What?"

"I can feel the life seeping out of my body with each drop of blood that falls to the floor, 
and there is nothing that I can do to pull that life back into my body. For your own sake, child, 
repent. It is the only way to survive."

I could not believe she was saying it, but they were her last words, for then, her head fell to
her chest and all life had ceased in her body.





CHAPTER SEVEN


I did not want to repent for my own self. I did not want to give that bitch the satisfaction of a 
repentance, but that had been Rose's last request and I used that as my justification for 
repenting.

Later that day, when two nuns came downstairs and discovered that Rose had died, the 
Mother Superior was called down immediately.

"What a tragic accident," she said, looking over at Rose's dead form.

"It was no accident," I said to her. "You should repent for your murderous ways. Mother 
Superior. God will not let a murderer into Heaven."

"Murder? My dear, I don't know what you're talking about."

She leered at me, and I knew that there was no sense in explaining what I meant. No sense
at all. For I could still see those two wooden phalluses in the pool of blood and shit below 
Rose, and I knew that the Mother Superior could easily vent her anger on me and do the same
kinds of things to me. It would kill me instantly.

I watched as they tore down Rose's body and carried her out. It was the last I ever saw of 
her, although I am sure that when I die, I will see much more of her. We will both end up in 
Heaven and perhaps we will be able to look down and protect the others who have ended up 
here.

The Mother Superior stood by and watched as the body was carried out, and then she 
turned to look at me. The two of us were alone in the dungeon, and I was totally helpless. 
Helpless and scared because of it.

"Well," she said to me, "you have seen what happens sinners."

"On the contrary," I responded, "I have not witnessed your torturous death yet, so I have 
not seen what happens to sinners."

"You think that you are a smart girl. There is no smart and stupid in the eyes of the Lord. 
Only sin and repentance. Now. are you ready?"

I could have easily said yes then, but the Mother Superior was a smart woman. She would 
have suspected something was up if I immediately changed my mind and began to repent. I 
knew that I would have to undergo a few more tortures before I would repent, and that is just 
what happened.

For at first, I refused to repent, and the whip was lashed out at me again. I was so used to 
it that in some ways, it was a welcome relief. Somewhat stimulating and it did seem to wake 
me up, the cool breeze that blew on my body as the leather swung past my flesh.

That I could bear, and she knew it. It was then that she walked over to the wooden 
phalluses and picked one up. She began to walk back toward me. The stench from the piss 
and shit that covered it was nauseating, and she moved it close to my cunt. I could feel my 
stomach churning more and more as she actually touched my pussy lips with the object. I 
thought that I would vomit, and I started to retch.

"Please, not that,'" I said.

"Repent," she began to scream.

It was not a hard thing to do. For I know that in order to repent, you must actually feel the 
words you are saying. It was easy enough to just say them without any feelings behind them 
and that is just what I did.

"Our Father, who art in Heaven, hallowed be Thy name. I have sinned, Father, and I can 
only beg your forgiveness. I can only hope that You will look down at me, Your lost child, and 
see in Your heart that I have walked down the trodden path, but am now repenting for all the 
things that I have done. Father in Heaven, forgive Your child, she knew no better. I will devote 
myself to You and to Your teachings, dear God. I have sinned, and now I repent."

It was an easy performance. I had seen actors on the stage once when I was living home 
and Father had taken me out for my birthday. I could tell that some of them were good, but 
many of them were just reading their lines and you could tell that they were acting. I learned 
much from them. I learned how to act, and as far as I was concerned, I was doing a good job 
for the Mother Superior.

"My child," she said to me, "you will be saved."

And then, she leaned close to me and she planted her lips on mine. I could feel her 
digging her tongue deep into my mouth, moving her hands over my red nipples and calling 
them to a stiffness. Her hands wandered lower down, and soon, she was sinking herself, 
moving her mouth to my spread cunt and beginning to lick my pussy. I could feel her tongue 
working on my clitoris, and forgive me Father if I say that the Mother Superior seemed like she
was something of an expert at the job. I could only assume that she had done it many times 
before.

She worked mainly on my clit, wiggling it back and forth with her tongue and causing the 
most incredible sensations to run through my body. I could feel my pussy spasming faster 
than it had ever done before, and then she was licking up all the wetness that she had caused 
me to secrete.

When she was finished, she stood up and slapped me across the face. It was such a change
from one minute to the next, seeing her licking me eagerly and lovingly, and then seeing her 
wrath as she hit me.

"Did you enjoy that?" she asked, scorn dripping from her words.

"Yes," I said.

"Then repent for it. Repent for it. You will not be a fully repentant girl until you learn to ask
for punishment and then repent for it."

"Oh God on high," I yelled out, "forgive me, Your servant, for feeling the pleasures of my 
body. I ask Your forgiveness and hope that You will prevent any further pleasure in my body."

"Good," she said. "Perhaps we can let you return to your cell for some time."

And so, here I am, recording everything as fast as I can because who knows where I will be 
taken next, who knows how many horrors I will suffer and for how long before I am brought 
back here the next time.

I was glad to find that the stone was still in place, and it seems that no one knows of my 
hiding place. That, as far as I am concerned, is good. As long as my recorded journal is kept 
safe, I feel some kind of hope.



* * *



I am trembling so that I can hardly write. I have heard something, some recent news from 
the two boys, and it seems that because of it, they are moving toward my side here. Not that 
there are sides to be taken. They seem to realize that they are doing wrong by serving the 
Mother Superior. At least that is what they had to tell me when they came to visit me and 
bring my nourishment a few minutes back.

I had just been pushing the stone into place, hiding my journal again because of the 
footsteps. I was still there when the door of my cell opened and the two boys entered.

They had their fingers on their lips, hushing me until the door was closed.

"What are you doing over there?" Rob asked me.

"It is where I hide my papers," I told him, and then pulled out the stone to show him how it
works.

"Have you recorded many things?" he asked.

"Many things," I said to him. "I only wish there was some way that I know of to get this 
document out of here. It serves no purpose as long as I am the only reader of its contents."

Dave reached for the document, and I thought for sure that he was going to bum it or 
something. Instead, he slid down to a sitting position in the corner and started to read it while
Rob and I had a long talk.

"Maybe," he said to me, "we will be able to help you get your document out."

"But why would you do something like that?"

"Well," he said, "we have seen so many hideous things here that it is beginning to affect 
us. The death of the girl Rose was unbearable."

"She was my only friend here," I said to them, sobbing as I thought about the evil way in 
which she died.

"We are your friends here, too now," Dave said, then went back to reading.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"Never before have things been this bad," Rob said. "The Mother Superior knows she has 
committed a murder. She knows it."

"What?" I asked.

"We overheard her confessing to God, hoping that He would forgive her. Still, she will not 
change her ways. I know that she will continue to carry out this evil. Sometimes I wonder if she
even thinks of God looking down upon her as she does these wicked things. But she knows 
what murder is, even for the sake of confession."

"And does that scare you?" I asked.

"Of course it does," Rob said. "Torture is one thing, bad as it is, but murder is certainly 
another thing. I do not want something like that on my conscience. But there is no way for me
to stop it."

"Fight back," I said to him. "Gang up and fight back."

"Two young boys against the whole Convent. No, that will never work. Dave and I have 
been talking though, talking escape."

"Take me with you," I begged him.

"We will," he said, and for the first time I felt a tremendous sense of relief. I felt that there 
was something worth living for. My freedom from this prison.

"But we don't know when we will be able to get away. Anyway, we want to make sure that 
your document comes with us."

"It has interesting things in it." Dave said, looking up. "It is so vivid and descriptive. I only 
hope that people believe it."

"But why shouldn't they?"

"Because the Church is so strong and a document like this would surely be heretic. Anyone
publishing something like this, especially at a time when all must answer to the Church, is 
surely risking his life."

"I am willing," I said to them both, and they smiled.

"We knew you would be willing. And that is why we have come to tell you that you must 
keep this hidden at all times. I am glad that we know where it is now, just in case anything 
happens to you and... " There was a long pause, and I felt as if he knew something that I did 
not yet know, something that I should have known.

"Tell me what it is," I said to Rob.

"They have things planned for you," he said to me. "Horrible things. We both overheard 
the Mother Superior talking and we know what they are."

"Tell me."

"I cannot. They are too horrible. I don't think that I could tell you."

"I have undergone many terrible things here," I said to them both. "There is nothing that 
you can tell me which will be more horrid than what I have suffered. It will be easier for me to 
know beforehand what it is."

And he started to tell me all the things. My eyes widened at the horror of it all, and when 
they were finished, I was begging them.

"Please help me escape now," I said to them both. "I will not be able to withstand such 
tortures. Please help me escape now."

"We can't," Rob said. "Possibly tonight. That is the best time for us to make an attempt, but
right now, all the nuns are awake, there is one at the gate, and she would surely see us. 
Tonight, we will come to your cell and we will help you to escape. The three of us."

"Thank God," I said out loud.

"God has nothing to do with this," Dave said, looking up from my manuscript again. "After 
being here long enough, it is easy to lose ones faith in God. We are the ones who planned this
escape. There is no God behind these convent walls, for if there was, He would never let such 
things happen."

I could not have agreed more, and yet, I felt some sense of relief. It would be my last night 
at this wicked place, and I would soon be home with you, Father. I know that you will help me 
publish my work.

And now, both Dave and Rob have left, and I must rest. I must sleep because tonight we 
will be running a far distance, and I need all the strength I can muster. Sleep, be peaceful, for I 
will awake to freedom.



* * *



Horror! Horror and abuse!

I cannot stand it all. My mind is beginning to split wide open and I do not think that there 
is any way I will be able to take-another fragment of pain on my body. There has just been too
much abuse that I have had to suffer.

I will begin from when it began, almost four years ago. That is right. It has been over four 
years since my last entry in my journal, and the only saving grace is that when I was returned 
to my cell, the journal was still hidden here. I thought perhaps, that the two boys would have 
escaped with it, but I found that they were still here, too, still doing their same job.

I must start from the beginning, where it all happened. I remember my sleep, the last 
peaceful one that I was going to take after my last entry. And it was peaceful because I 
thought that I would be waking up to freedom afterwards.

But then, I was aroused by the slamming of my door as it was pushed open. I looked up, 
hoping to see my two male friends. Instead, there was the Mother Superior, her hands on her 
hips, glaring down at me.

"You will come with me now," she said, commanding.

"Where to?"

"You must not ask questions my dear. It is just another part of your training."

I was still trembling and naked as I stood up. She put her arm around my shoulder and her
hand fondled my breast as we walked down the large hall. I did not know where she was 
leading me to until we were halfway down the steps. We were going back to the dungeon, 
and I froze when I thought of the terrors I had encountered there.

"Why are we going back here?" I asked her.

"Because," she said to me, "you have only begun your repentance. There are many more 
steps that have to be followed."

"Such as?"

"You will see once we are there," she said to me, and soon we were. I could see that there 
were two new girls shackled to the wall. They both had black hair, but I could tell that the ends
of their hair had been singed with fire. Both of their cunts looked mutilated, the hair of the 
pubic patch in sparse areas, indicating that some of it had been burned off in torture.

"What am I to do?" I asked her.

"You are to first lick each girl and make her come," she commanded to me.

What could I do? She was already reaching for a whip and I did not want to suffer its 
wrath, Besides, I had other reasons for obeying her.

I did not know at the time that she was going to keep me locked in the dungeon for four 
years. I thought that once I was finished with her commands she would let me back up to my 
cell, and then the two boys and I would escape.

So I worked each girl over. I moved my tongue into one cunt and started to lick the sore, 
chafed walls. The girl was groaning with pain, I guess, because most of the skin inside of her 
vagina had been seared off. I concentrated then on her clitoris, hoping that I would be able to 
lubricate her walls with some of her own juices. When it happened, there was not such a 
tremendous flow, but still, I could tell that there had been some soothing relief brought to the
girl.

Then I had to work on the other one, licking her even faster, just to get it over with. When I
was finished, I stood in front of the Mother Superior, somewhat triumphant at having carried 
out her requests so fast.

"Did you enjoy it?" she asked me.

"Yes," I said, thinking that was the correct response she wanted to hear.

She slapped me across the face, hard and I fell to my knees.

"Repent for it then," she said to me.

I started to move my lips in silent prayer, not saying anything but rather, cursing the very 
ground that this evil woman stood on. She could not hear any of it, of course, and that was 
the way I liked it.

After I was finished repenting, she pulled me over to the wall and chained me up once 
again. I could feel the cuffs cutting into my wrists, and I started to cry out when she was 
walking away, leaving me there.

"Please come back," I yelled to her.

"Why?" she asked, turning to look at me.

"But you're not planning to leave me here, are you?" I asked her.

"Yes," she said.

"But I have repented," I said to her. "I have repented. I have done everything that you have
asked me to do. What more do you want from me?"

"When you learn to beg for punishment in order that you may repent, then you will be 
allowed to leave."

And she was gone. I was left with the others, and it was a matter of my will against hers. 
Would I stay there for eternity, each time agreeing to whatever wishes she had and then 
having her find more things to punish me with, or would I just give in all the time?

It was like the descending circles of hell.

I still can not know what new tortures are in store for me. Surely I have been punished 
enough for my non existent sins, but knowing her like I do, I wonder.


CHAPTER EIGHT

The answer, of course, is that I did give in to them, but not soon enough to be spared the 
tortures. For the first day that I was down there, the two boys came to visit me. I was surprised
to see them.

"We are sorry for what has happened to you," Rob said.

"Yes, we didn't know she was going to do something like this to you."

"But if you give in to what they want, maybe they will let you go."

"You should know better," Dave said to him. "They won't let her go when she gives in. But 
we just came here to give you a message."

"Yes," Rob said to me, "we have come to tell you that we will not run away from here until 
we can take you with us. That is a decision we have made."

"No," I said. "You should go now. There is no hope for me. Take what I have written and 
flee with it."

"But what is paper without the author to back up what the words say?" Dave asked me. 
"No, we have made a decision to wait, and we will."

I bet they never knew that they would wait four years, and even as I write this here, waiting
for them to come (they saw me this morning and told me the plans for escape are tonight) I 
wonder if I will be able to go with them. My feet are bruised and sore, my body aches, and I 
have no strength inside.

I will only tell briefly of the horrors that befell me in the dungeon those years. For time is 
limited and they could be here any minute.

The next few months were filled with horrors, not only horrors that I suffered myself but 
those that I saw inflicted on the two girls, and the many girls who were brought in for a day or
two at a time and then moved out.

For the Mother Superior had already told me what was to be expected of me. Not to be 
outdone, not to let me go free immediately, she had decided that I would have to now beg for
punishment, punishment for all those sins I had confessed and repented for, because only 
when I begged for punishment would I be able to have God's forgiveness.

"What kind of punishment?" I asked her when she came to see me.

"You will beg us to whip you, and then when you are being whipped you will beg God to 
forgive you."

"That's crazy," I said. "No one wants to be whipped."

"You make it sound crazy, but God hears you begging for punishment and He looks down 
at you and knows that you are a true and repentant sinner."

But I would not lower myself to beg for something as painful as a whipping, especially 
when I knew that all the sins I was repenting for were things that she had inflicted on me, that 
wretched bitch.

My hand aches as I write even now.

I became used to a whipping three times a day, a whipping that they would inflict without 
my asking. There were other things that I was made to do.

Nuns would come down and hold their dirty boots in my face, and with my tongue I would
have to lick all the dirt off. They would make me get on my hands and knees and step hard on
my fingers. I know that my finger bones must have been broken many times, broken and then
rehealed so that they could be broken once again.

I had dildos prodded in my anus and in my cunt, but never did I beg for it the way that the
Mother Superior wanted it done. For five months I suffered this abuse, and at the end of the 
day I would be manacled back up to the wall. One day I got into a conversation with one of 
the girls who was hanging beside me.

"You take so much abuse," she said to me, "and still you refuse to follow their orders. 
Would it not be wise to just do as they say?"

"I have already tried that," I told her.

"And what were the results?"

"You're looking at it," I said, knowing that the girl still had to repent for her sins, having 
already confessed. "I was once where you are now, and I did repent. And look where it has 
gotten me."

"Do you mean to tell me that once you have repented, they continue to torture you? Is 
that the way it works?"

"Ye§," I said, and I watched as she started to cry.

"I'll never get out of here," she said to me. "Never. And I thought that when I entered the 
Convent I was going to get some religious training."

"They sure fooled you, didn't they?" I asked.

She did not think that it was funny, but I did not mean it to be. I meant it with the utmost 
seriousness.

"What do you think will happen to you if you do beg for punishment then?" she asked me,
and I was stumped.

I am stumped now even as I write all this down, because, in the end, in order to get away 
from it all, I did decide to beg. But it took a great deal of their whippings, days and months, a 
great deaf of their fucking me with wooden stakes, a tremendous amount of bums on my skin
to finally get me to confess.

To confess to everything, to repent for everything, and ultimately, to ask them to punish 
me for all that I did.

But it didn't happen right away, and each day that the Mother Superior came down to see 
me she would be more and more frustrated. Each day her anger would rise and she would 
play with my naked flesh, pinching it, holding lit stakes right up to my nipples and touching 
the very tips of them. I could feel my flesh burning, smell the roasting of my nipples, but still, I 
would not bow down to her wishes.

Perhaps, you might think, I was foolish in doing so. Perhaps, you might think, I should have
begged for punishment immediately.

Perhaps, I think to myself now, that I should have done it to. It would have save me much 
abuse, for as I look over my naked flesh now I see hideous scars that will never heal. I will 
never be able to forget about the abuse that was inflicted upon my body because each time I 
look down at my breasts I will be able to see the scars and the memory will linger so long as 
the scars do.

One day I was strapped down to a table, and drops of boiling water were dripped onto my
flesh. The Mother Superior let each drop fall and she was moving down my stomach, closer 
and closer to my cunt. She never did let the water touch me there, and I was grateful for it.

But one day, too, I had a boiling enema administered. The Mother Superior did it herself, 
telling me that this whole thing was taking too long and she did not know why she was 
spending so much time with me.

"There are other girls who would readily repent," she said to me, "and yet, there is 
something about you that I like."

"I can easily tell what it is," I said.

"Oh?"

"Yes, you love to touch my naked flesh. You seem to get pleasure from it. Plus, from what I 
have seen, all the girls coming and going here, you seem to be interested in breaking my will. 
Tell me, am I the strongest girl you have ever had here? Have I sustained more punishment 
that any of the others?"

"You praise yourself too much," she said to me.

"I would never praise myself. I am just looking at your sadistic nature as realistically as I 
possibly can."

"Is that how you see it all?" she asked me. "Yes."

"You mean that you do not see me doing God's work? You mean that you only see me as 
an inflictor of punishment?"

"You're beginning to catch on," I said to her. "Would you tell my why you must torture us 
like this?"

"Because God wills it."

"Has He spoken to you directly?" I asked her. "Maybe we should write a new section of the
Bible because it seems that God Himself has appeared to a mere nun, telling her what to do. A
new section should be added."

"Your sarcasm disgusts me," she said, slapping me across the face.

"Just as your very presence disgusts me," I said to her.

That was when I was strong. When I was strong I could talk to her any way that I felt 
because my body was so bruised and aching that it made no difference if another punishment
was inflicted.

But soon, the whippings became longer. What started as twenty lashes a day worked its 
way up to thirty, then forty, then fifty. After each one I was totally drained and just closed my 
eyes to rest.

That was how it became into the third year. It was like a regular daily ritual, sleeping and 
waking up for my whipping, sleeping again, waking up for another whipping, sleeping some 
more, waking up to be fed, and then sleeping through the night only to awake again for my 
morning whipping. I would shit and piss right where I stood, not even caring that I was 
stepping in it.

My mind soon began to snap. It was a pitiful existence. I would forget so many things that 
I wanted to remember. The first time I had been in the dungeon, the first period of three 
months, I would get through some of the days by thinking about the happy times I could 
remember at home. But those memories seemed to slip through my mind, and I no longer 
had them.

I couldn't help it. I wanted to remember them, but my mind was splitting.

Father, forgive me if I tell you that I can barely remember what your face looks like. I wish 
that I could, but it is only a vague memory now. I wonder what will happen when you come to
get me, what they will tell you.

It happened though today. It was no different from any other day. I awoke to feel my body
being thrashed with the whip, and I was groggy. My eyes had grown used to the darkness of 
the dungeon. I could see in that darkness like a normal person can see in daylight.

I don't know why I decided to beg for forgiveness then. It might have been because I was 
in the groggy state I was in, and I kept hearing voices telling me to beg. Like I said, my mind is
in a state now.

"Beg, beg, beg," I heard repeatedly.

So I did.

"Please," I said, "whip me harder. I am a sinner and I should be whipped for the sins I have 
committed. Hit me harder."

I heard a voice telling another figure to get the Mother Superior, and there was a frenzy in 
the room as the girl ran up the stairs to get the old woman. I know that it had been the 
moment she was waiting for.

She was back down in a matter of seconds, and she moved her ear to my lips because I 
was so weak I couldn't talk that loud.

"Say it again," she said to me.

"I want to be whipped and tortured. I want to be punished. Anything to make up for all the
sins that I have committed during my short time on earth. Beat me until I am near death, I 
deserve it all."

I know now that I didn't, and I don't even know what made me say those words. Because 
as soon as I did say it the most fierce beating began. Three of them with whips were all lashing
them across my body. I could feel my skin ripping, feel the blood dripping. In some ways, I 
was working myself up toward an orgasm, I don't know how, but there was something so 
strange happening because of the frenetic aura that prevailed in the dungeon then.

I don't know how long it went on, but when it was over I could feel my wrists being 
unshackled. I fell to the floor immediately, and then, when I awoke, I was back here in my 
chamber.

The two boys came to see me then. I couldn't believe it when they told me all the time that
had passed by.

"But we are going to escape tonight," Rob said to me. "We are going to escape tonight 
because we know what the Mother Superior is going to have you doing next, and once she 
has you down there, you may never come up again."

"What?" I asked, tears streaming down my cheeks.

"You are going to be the one in charge of the dungeon, Anise. Since you have gone 
through all the steps that she wanted, you are going to be in charge."

"I still don't understand."

"You are the first girl to ever beg for punishment, the way the Mother Superior wanted it. 
All the others died before they ever reached that stage. And now, she is going to put you in 
charge of the whippings and punishment, because, you will also serve as an example to the 
others. An example of one who has gone through all the tortures and has come out a 
survivor."

"I will have to inflict the pain on others."

"Yes, and that is why we will come to get you tonight. Prepare your journal and we will run 
away, the three of us."

And so, I am sitting her now, writing my final entry. Everything that has happened to me, I 
know, in some way has to be for the best. After all, I have made it this far. Yet I do not know if I
will be able to go with the boys. I wish that I was sure I could, but chances are I will never 
make it.

For I am too weak. Much too weak. I can hardly stand on my own two feet, and the 
thought of running from here, exerting all that energy to escape, drains me even more. I know
that I will never be able to do it.

And so, I have an idea. It is a sinful one, but I have figured that I am allowed a few sins on 
my own, having confessed to so many that I never even did. But the final sin, the one that 
makes me wonder if I will ever make it to Heaven (I even wonder if there is a Heaven, for 
surely God cannot look down and see my suffering without feeling something) because the 
sin is suicide.

Suicide.

My body trembles as I even think of the word. But I know it is the only way out.

For I cannot stand the thought of inflicting pain on others, the kind of pain that I know the
Mother Superior will expect me to inflict. I cannot stand the thought of living my life, a good 
life I am sure like the boys lead (with food and lodgings and as much rest as I can get) when in
my waking hours the only thing that I would be able to do would be inflict pain.

I have suffered enough and cannot bear to bring that kind of pain to others.

I only wish that I had not been tortured as much as I had been. But my body is too weak 
for me to try and escape. I know that I will have to remain here, and the only thing that I can 
do is remain here dead.

The boys brought me clothes to wear when they came before, the first clothes that I have 
put on in years. The cloth feels soothing against my flesh. It hides some of the vulnerability 
that I felt all those years, knowing that my naked flesh was exposed and the nuns could do 
anything that they wanted to do.

But I am stripping off the skirt now, not caring that my much abused cunt is naked again. I 
barely even have the strength to rip the material, but I know that I must. Long strips of cloth, 
that is what I need.

Forgive me Father for I have sinned.

I am about to commit suicide. There is a large post hanging above, and I know that if I pull
out a few bricks, pile them up and stand on them, I will be able to throw the cloth over the 
post, wrap it around my neck, and hang myself. I only hope that the pain of death, the final 
cracking of my neck, lasts a matter of seconds. But if it is any longer than that, I will not mind. 
For I have suffered so many abuses and death, when it finally comes, can only be a welcome 
relief.





EPILOGUE


The following testimony was written by Anise's father upon receiving the documented 
account of her abuses in the Convent. They are the scattered thoughts of an old man, 
rambling thoughts.

The testimony reveals how tormented the old man is with grief; how alone he feels.

This is what he had to say about his daughter's untimely death.

* * *

She is dead. I know it for a fact because the two boys told me that she is dead. And yet, I 
cannot help but think that I was the one responsible.

I have read through her manuscript time and time again, and I see how she forgives me 
for what I did to her, for the hell I sent her to.

Yet, had it not been for me, my daughter would be here now, alive and well, to keep me 
company.

But now, I am old, and all I have is her writing.

God forgive me and show me the mercy my daughter did in her last hour!


The End
