It was not long before Maria arrived at the church. She stood at the huge door and held onto the large iron latch without turning it. For a moment she thought of turning and running away, but she knew that was pointless, she had started on the road to her salvation and she had got to see it through. She pushed open the heavy door and went inside.
Father Thomas was standing inside and Caleb was crouched by his side holding his pointed staff.
"We have been waiting. Do not be late in future or I will not be able to let you out again."
Father Thomas turned and Caleb prodded Maria with his pointed staff. She twisted to avoid it, but he still managed to stick it into her calf. It was sharp and she winced but did not cry out. Father Thomas led the way to a small chapel behind the altar. Against one wall was a small table upon which stood some candlesticks and in the centre was a low wooden bench. Just above the bench hung the ends of a slender rope which was pulled through a large iron hook bolted to the ceiling. On one of the walls there hung some shiny metal rings. Candlelight flickered on their burnished surface and gold coloured cords dangled loosely down from them.
Father Thomas reached beneath the small table and took out a black leather whip. It was quite long, plaid from shiny leather strands, with a smooth, thick handle and a plain, sharp tip. He flexed it between his hands then suddenly smacked it down on the table. Caleb giggled and Maria felt her body filling with fear.
"Now, your first lesson with the whip, my child. You have tasted the cane but the cane is only the whip's gentle brother. The whip is violent and uncontrollable, see how it flexes in anticipation of the pain it can administer."
He flexed it again. She saw how strong it was and how eagerly it wanted to return to its natural straightness. Then he smacked it against the top of the bench and Maria's body shook at the hard unforgiving sound it made.
"You have not been truly beaten yet. You did not need to be tied down for the cane, you could bear its thrashing without bonds, but not so with the whip. The whip is too hurtful to bear without firm bondage to keep you in place. For the whip, you must be tied down tightly. The whip is too savage to bear without restraint."
Maria stared at him, waiting for her instructions. She heard his words but could not really believe that this could be more painful than the cane. This time, she thought, she would not struggle, she would accept her punishment gladly.
"Caleb!"
Caleb jumped to attention with his staff by his side.
"Bring her!"
Caleb pointed his staff at Maria's legs and shepherded her towards the wooden bench.
"Down!" ordered Father Thomas. "Down on your knees. Get down you fucking bitch!"
Maria was suddenly frightened by Father Thomas's angry words, her composure was disappearing and her fear was mounting. Perhaps the whip was more painful, perhaps it would be too much for her to bear? As the thoughts came so did a wave of fear that quickly turned into a desperate desire to escape. She fought hard against it, but her terror heaved through her in floods of nausea.
"Down, you fucking bitch. Down on the bench! Crawl onto it. Now you will be tested. Now we shall see how much you can really suffer. I am going to test you with the whip. I am going to give you pain you never thought existed. Get down! Crawl!"
Caleb prodded her and she moved to the bench, bent down and rested her hands on it then looked up at Father Thomas for her next instruction. She looked weak and defenceless, like a fawn.
"Get on your knees! I am losing patience. Get on your knees!"
He flexed the whip impatiently between his hands. Maria lifted her legs and knelt on the bench. The wood felt hard against her knees and she squirmed them about. The ends of the rope which hung from the hook in the ceiling draped loosely across her back and against her waist.
"Tie her Caleb."
Caleb ran across to the rings on the wall and drew out the gold coloured cords, then, twirling them around like lassoes, rushed back to the bench where Maria was crouching in fear. He grabbed her shoulders roughly and thrust them downwards towards the bench. The abruptness of the movement hurt her neck and she dropped onto her elbows and gasped. Quickly Caleb wound the cords around her wrists and secured them beneath the bench, then he put his foot on its edge, leaned back and pulled on the cords so tightly that she cried out.
"Please… Stop… Oh please…"
But he took no notice and kept pulling until they cut deeply into her wrists. She felt tears forming around her eyes.
"How does that feel bitch? Do you want it tighter?"
"No… Please… No…"
"Silence you fucking bitch! Silence!"
Caleb ran around to her legs and wound the cords around her calves but this time he let the other ends dangle free at the sides of the bench.
"Hoist her up, my servant!"
Caleb began to dance around the bench, darting in front of Maria's face, performing a curtsy, then running on frantically in giddy circles.
"Hoist her up I said!"
Caleb stopped prancing and threw down his staff; it crashed on the floor and bounced against the wall. He took hold of one end of the rope which hung from the hook in the ceiling and pulled it around Maria's waist. She gasped for breath as he tightened it. It bit into her skin and she contorted with pain but did not dare cry out. Caleb pulled the rope tighter then fixed a knot in it. Maria could hardly breathe. Then Caleb grabbed hold of the other end of the rope and looped it through the knot at her waist. He jumped up on the bench and reached as high up the rope as he could, held it tightly, then swung out and jumped back down onto the floor.
Maria felt a terrible pain around her waist as the rope snatched her upwards under the weight of Caleb's body. He dragged it back through the hook in the ceiling and her waist was drawn up until she was bent over and suspended by the pinching rope. Tears fell from her eyes, she felt captured and humiliated and hung her head low so that Father Thomas could not see her shame. Caleb tied off the end of the rope and ran to Father Thomas's side.
"Panties Caleb?"
"Panties! Panties! White panties! White panties!" Caleb cried out wildly.
He ran to Maria's side and lifted her dress slowly. As it lifted he saw her red panties and shrieked.
"Red panties! Red panties! Horrid! Horrid! Hateful red panties!"
"Disgusting!" said Father Thomas. "Shameful! Get them off! Pull them off the harlot! Shameless child! Pull them off my servant, as quickly as you can. Pull the vile, red panties off the shameless bitch! Bitch! Bitch! Shameless bitch!"
Caleb grabbed the red panties and angrily tore them down, ripping them and dragging them down to just above her knees. As the material tightened against her thighs Maria flinched and wriggled anxiously, but Caleb gave her a heavy smack across the bottom to make her stop. Then he grabbed the loose ends of cord at her calves, tied them tightly underneath the bench and pulled them with all his strength until they dug deeply into the flesh of her calves. She could not move them at all; she could only feel the tingling of the blood trying to run through her constricted veins.
"We'll soon stop her wriggling, eh Caleb?"
Caleb jumped around the bench, circling and prancing.
"Stop her wriggling. Stop her wriggling."
Maria hung like an animal on the rope, her forearms and calves secured painfully to the bench and her waist bowed under the upward strain of the rope from the ceiling. Her buttocks were bare and exposed and the red panties which Lesley had found for her were pulled in shreds around her knees. She began to cry.
"Oh, my child," said Father Thomas softly, "do not cry yet, you are a long way from being saved, it is too soon to cry, wait until you really suffer before you cry. It is a good thing that you came to me when you did. It is a good thing that I have the whip to bring you to obedience. Are you ready to begin the punishment?"
"Please Father. I don't think I can stand any more!"
"Still! Be still! The whip will be your master. When he has had his way with you, when he has striped your buttocks with his marks, then you will plead for more, not less!… is she bound tight enough Caleb?"
Caleb nodded excitedly.
"Good! It is time and we will begin. This time you will taste the unfathomable pleasures of the greatest inflictor of pain there is, the whip. Oh yes, the whip is a vicious master, but it brings obedience like no other, even the cane shrinks back in fear of its power. But, I have to warn you, the whip is its own master and it punishes its victims in the ways that it chooses. Though I can wield it, or try to direct it, I cannot control it, the whip itself will inflict whatever pain it decides you must suffer. I cannot prevent it or hold it back for I am its victim as much as the body which stretches out before it. We begin!"
Maria hung on her bonds terrified. Her buttocks were stretched tight and the flesh of her cunt was exposed between her tied legs. Her hard nipples rubbed sorely against the inside her dress. She felt petrified but she could only submit. Then it started.
Whack!
The whip came down with such ferocity that Maria lurched forward on her bonds and screamed out.
Whack!
Another painful slash across her buttocks and she screamed again.
Whack!
This time it burned deep into her skin and she cried out fiendishly.
Whack!
She felt slashed by the scorching whip as she roared like a savage monster and the cavernous church echoed with her pain.
Whack!
She felt herself going giddy, she screamed again and again and tried to pull away, but her bonds held her completely fast.
Whack!
Another scream, another deep cut and her eyes went blurred, she felt herself losing consciousness, she could not bear any more.
Whack!
This time she could not scream and just hung limply on the rope that suspended her by the waist. The pain was so great, and she could not bear it, but she could not escape it; somehow her body would not let her fall unconscious. She felt totally hopeless as she realised she would have to suffer whatever the whip decided.
Whack!
Another scream but this time fainter, it was so weak it was hardly a scream at all, more a pathetic, begging whimper.
Whack!
No scream this time, she only blubbered, she wanted to beg but words were no longer hers.
Whack!
She could not speak, nor scream nor blubber, she wanted to beg for forgiveness but she could not find the strength or will to beg. She could not move, she could not even wince under the flailing of the whip, and now she could not even hope. She hung loosely and the rope around her waist dug in deeply as it pulled against her weight.
Whack!
There was nothing left to do but suffer, she could not lose consciousness, she could not plead for it to stop, she could only absorb the terror that the whip was dealing out. The pain was so great it ran through her in huge, uncontrollable waves and her tortured body rose and fell against its bonds as if caught helplessly in a mighty tide.
Whack! Whack! Whack! Whack! Whack!
They were coming so fast now. Somehow she realised that Father Thomas had lost control, she knew that the whip was in command and she was suffering the pain that only the whip knew she deserved. One after the other the whacks from the whip struck her buttocks, the terrible pains from each stroke merging into the next as she writhed in a paroxysm of continual agony. Spit dribbled freely from her mouth and ran disgustingly down her chin as she hung like a tormented animal under the frenzied punishment of the uncontrollable whip.
But through this feeling of disgust, beyond this sensation of relentless torture, she sensed something different. Through the blurring intensity of her suffering she realised something other than just the feelings of disgust and hurt, it was something deeper even than the cuts that were being inflicted by the uncontrolled flailing of the whip. She sensed a glimmer of her salvation. It was as though, beyond all the pain, there was a radiance of purification. She pressed her buttocks to the whip, wanting the flogging to continue forever so that she could approach closer to the light that promised to cleanse her of her sinfulness. Then suddenly it stopped.
Maria sensed it was all over and she sagged desperately on the rope. She felt as if she was being burned all over and her bottom felt as if it was on fire; pain filled her whole body. She gasped and spit bubbled messily from her mouth then she gasped again and started to come back to the realisation of what was happening to her. Then she felt the rope around her waist and let out a terrifying scream. It was not a scream in response to direct pain but a scream born of all the pain that had gone before. She thought she would not be able to stop. She knew she had to take a breath before she could scream again, but when it came, it was only enough breath to continue the frightening scream that burst from her like steam from an engine. She could not stop, she thought she would die before it would end, she felt her whole life would be eaten up by her terrible all-consuming scream.
After what seemed an age, the beating finally stopped and, although in the empty silence of the church her screams still rang in her ears like trumpets, she faded away into an uncomfortable unconsciousness. Then she felt the strain at her waist loosening and she dropped heavily onto the bench. For a while at least, she had been released.
As the drumming in her ears subsided she could hear Father Thomas talking to someone. She could not hear the other person and could only pick up fragments of what Father Thomas said but Maria could sense fear in his voice.
"I'm sorry, I'm very sorry, yes, I know it was wrong, I thought it would be alright to let her go during the day, I felt sorry for her… Yes! Yes! I'm sorry, I know it was wrong, yes, I know, please forgive me."
Then the drumming in her ears returned. The next thing she knew Father Thomas was standing beside her, speaking to her, but now his voice had changed, it was no longer fearful, it was taunting and cruel.
"So, you want more do you?"
Maria shrunk back in terror.
"I think you do. Ah yes, I can see it in your eyes. You want more! You little bitch, you fucking little bitch. You want more! Whether you do or not, you are going to get it. You have got me into trouble, appealing to my better self. Yes, you are going to get more and this time there will be no release!"
He sat down on the edge of the bench beside her and flexed the whip across his knees.
"I have never seen the whip so angry. I have never felt its power so great. It nearly tore itself from my hands in order to punish you enough, and yet, I can see it has not brought you to heal. Even suffering as much as it can give, the whip has not been enough to save you from your sinfulness. You are a wicked little bitch, that is for sure. This is going to be such a long road. Of course, you will have to stay. Ah yes, you will have to stay. I cannot let you go now. I thought I could, but ah, no, not now, not now I have seen how much it will take. You will have to stay now, oh yes, you will have to stay alright."
"Please Father," she murmured, "please, I have to go to work."
Father Thomas laughed and stood up beside her, he looked down at her red striped buttocks and laughed again.
"Impossible! Now you are mine for as long as it takes."
He flexed the whip again then tapped it against his knees.
"But the whip has a kinder side, my child. Yes, it can bring the most excruciating pain, but it can also bring unfathomable pleasure. It is the bearer of both terror and desire. See how it flexes with anticipation. See how it tenses along its full length at the thought of the pleasures it can bring. It is letting me know that now it is time for you to take its pleasure. Of course you will demand more pain from it, but before you beg for more pain it needs to show you its kindness. Lie there my child, Caleb has slackened the rope around your waist so that you can respond to the gentle delights of the whip. Raise your bottom, yes, I know it is still sore, I can see the red slashes that the whip has inflicted on you, but raise it up, pull it high so that your flesh pokes out between your burning buttocks. Let the whip see your rosy cunt and the dark ring of your beautiful anus, raise it high and welcome its attentions."
Her calves and wrists were still tightly bound, but her waist was free and, although her body ached all over, she eased herself up. Her back ached and she could feel the pain around her waist where the rope had suspended her full weight, but still she eased her bottom higher. She felt the skin stretch against the red marks that the whip had inflicted so punishingly, but she did what she was told.
"Ah, yes, what a beauty. I can see that soft flesh coming into view. What a beauty. Its rosy edges shine with moisture. Open your buttocks my child, I want to see it all, I want to see it gaping at me, show me your beautiful arse."
She eased herself higher and bent her back up in the same way that she had been hung on the rope. She felt Father Thomas's penetrating eyes staring in between her buttocks and wanted to show him more. She wanted him to see her cunt, she wanted to open her buttocks and show him the muscular ring of her anus and show him how it was dilating with the joy of her exposure.
"What a beauty my child. Show it to me and I will introduce it to the kindness of the whip."
She did not know what he meant, but she felt within her an urgent demand that was forcing her to move towards whatever pleasure was there. So, she lifted herself higher and opened her buttocks even wider, squeezing the insides of her thighs apart as far as they would go. Then she began to moan with the anticipation of whatever awaited her. Deep inside she knew she wanted pain but the temptation of pleasure drew her in like the sucking wet lips of a ravenous wolf.
Father Thomas drew the tip of the whip into the firm valley of flesh that puckered between the base of her buttocks and the smooth curves of her thighs. He probed its hard end lazily into the crack and pushed it slightly open, exposing the darkness of her anus and revealing it from the protective pleats of her soft skin. He pressed the sharp tip around its edges and it dilated under the pressure.
As she felt the sharp tip she sensed the pain again, but it was not really a pain, she knew it was only an introduction to something entirely different. She felt the heat of pleasure and her body sought it out as she squirmed her buttocks, trying to find the end of the whip and get it to the centre of her aching muscular ring. The whip bent as he pressed harder and she pulled back a little as the hard edges of the whip's tip bit into the edge of her anus. Then she squirmed some more and as it found the centre of her readily pulsating ring, she pushed hard against it and the end slid in.
"See how he slides in so freely. Feel him tickle your innards. Feel him prickle against the inside edges of your beautiful arse. Is he not indeed a bringer of pleasure?"
"Oh yes Father. I can feel the point. It is so fine and yet it is tracing every sense that I have. It is finding every vein and prickling it as though I was an instrument. Please, Father, more."
Father Thomas pressed the point of the whip in further, he twisted it around, and Maria twisted with it. She moaned with every movement and her mouth fell open, gaping with both anxiety and fulfilment. She wanted to feel her cunt, she wanted to slip her fingers between its wet folds and seek out her burning clitoris, but she could not, she could only ache and suffer the frustration of her bonds. She dropped her tongue onto her bottom lip and let it dribble the spit which ran down and dripped from its end. She raised her bottom as high as she could and submitted eagerly to the penetrating point of the delving tip.
"Father, please smack me. Smack me as my punishment for enjoying the whip. Smack me for enjoying its pain and its pleasure. Please Father, I want to feel your hand across my bottom. I want to feel you punishing me."
"No, my child, you cannot be smacked while the whip is enjoying you like this."
"Please Father, smack me. Please, I need smacking. I want to feel the sting across my bottom. I want to dribble as it shocks me I want to squeeze my buttocks under the shock and squeeze the whip inside my arse. Please, Father smack me. Smack me!"
Father Thomas sighed in despair.
"No, my child. I have told you, no."
"Father, please, please smack my bottom. You can smack it as hard as you want, I don't care how hard it comes. I want it hard, I want to be punished, I want to be in pain. The whip is so exquisite, I need some pain to dilute it or I think I will die. Please Father, smack me hard, smack me for the rest of the night, smack me and don't stop, smack me forever. Please Father, I can't survive without it."
Father Thomas sighed again as he twisted the tip of the whip deeply into her anus. Maria groaned loudly, then submissively bent her head and licked at the pool of spit that was running from her mouth. She drooled and salivated, sucked at it noisily and spit back into it, she felt like the wolf.
"Smack me! Father, smack me! I beg you, smack me! Keep the whip inside me and smack me as hard as you can!"
"What a wretched bitch you are. Here bitch, take that!"
Smack!
The tingling in her arse built into a sharp, searing sting of delight as Father Thomas's hand smacked down on her bottom. She lurched forward, shocked and satisfied.
"Again! I'm a wretched bitch, I know I am! Smack me again!"
Smack!
She pitched forward again as the smack knocked the breath from her.
"Again! I'm a wretched bitch! Beat me more!"
Smack!
She gulped as she was knocked forward. The whip twisted inside her and the pale, tight cheeks of her bottom were set on fire with the weight of the stinging smack.
"Again! Harder!"
Smack!
"Again! Harder! Harder! Harder!"
Smack! Smack! Smack!
"Father, please keep the tip inside. Force it in as far as you want. I can feel myself coming, my cunt is filling with it. Harder! Harder! The bitch wants more! Please Father, harder! Harder!"
Smack! Smack! Smack!
Maria lifted her bottom even higher, forcing her scorching buttocks back onto the unremitting smacks and her anus further down the pointed end of the whip. She gasped a deep, throaty gasp and she felt her cunt running with moisture. She gasped again and fell forward, her face splashed into the pool of spit that was spread out on the wooden surface of the bench and she licked her tongue out and drank it up, drooling and salivating with her wretchedness and giddily drunk with the pleasures of pain and delight. When she had sucked up all her spit, she squashed her lips against the bench and let her bottom fall back.
"Thank you Father," she muttered quietly. Thank you for beating me."
Father Thomas withdrew the whip and stood in front of her.
"Now my child, we are finished for the day and you must be taken down to the place of captivity. We will continue with your training tomorrow. Caleb!"
Caleb danced up and undid her bonds, they fell away loosely but she did not move, even when he began prodding her with his staff. In the end, she got up shakily and stood with her red panties still hanging torn around her knees.
"Take her down to the vault, my servant."
Caleb stabbed the point of his staff at the backs of her calves and forced her forward into the darkness at the end of the chapel.