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Chapter 5
Two years earlier…
Christine’s back and bottom ached. Why couldn’t they at least make the pews a bit more comfortable? If she had spend every Sunday morning here the very least the Minister could get cushioning or something so the hard wooden benches weren’t so tough on her.
“This morning I would like you to open your Bible to the book of Ezekiel. It is an Old Testament book, chapter 33. And we are going to turn our attention now and give our undivided attention to the Word of God from Ezekiel.”
The Minister seemed a bit more animated and lively this morning, Christine thought, maybe she wouldn’t suffer the same old Sunday sermon. She was tired of the formulaic exhalations to the Lord replete with his humble requests to forgive their sins and love them in-spite of their mortal faults.
“Ezekiel 33 beginning in verse one says: ‘Again the word of the LORD came to me, saying, "Son of man, speak to the children of your people, and say to them: ‘When I bring the sword upon a land, and the people of the land take a man from their territory and make him their watchman, when he sees the sword coming upon the land, if he blows the trumpet and warns the people, then whoever hears the sound of the trumpet and does not take warning, if the sword comes and takes him away, his blood shall be on his own head.’”
Christine began to drift off as the Minster began quoting some esoteric biblical passage at length. So she looked about the little white chapel to see who had and hadn’t come to church. Her Mother was taking the same opportunity, her white gloved hands neatly folded in her lap and her hawk-like eyes darting throughout the room. But whereas her mother was looking to see who was tardy or absent so that she could share the news with her gossip circle, Christine looked about for her friends, or possibly even Brad, the hot senior in the year above her that she’d recently taken a fancy to.
“Nevertheless if you warn the wicked to turn from his way, and he does not turn from his way, he shall die in his iniquity; but you have delivered your soul. "Therefore you, O son of man, say to the house of Israel: ‘Thus you say, "If our transgressions and our sins lie upon us, and we pine away in them, how can we then live?"’ Say to them: ‘As I live,’ says the Lord God, ‘I have no pleasure in the death of the wicked, but that the wicked turn from his way and live. Turn, turn from your evil ways! For why should you die, O house of Israel?’”
‘Gee, he’s really getting a head of steam up today,’ Christine thought. She turned back toward the front of the church now that she’d spotted Kate and Jeannie. Unfortunately she hadn’t spotted Brad. Maybe he was right up the back?
“Today our land is being oppressed. Today our land is being attacked, not by an outside invader or an enemy that seeks to jump our borders and take over our cities, no. But we are being raided by an enemy from within and this enemy desires to rip apart and tear us apart and tear at the moral fabric of our lives and of our people and of our land by changing and distorting the standard of God’s institution of marriage that he has given and seeking to normalize a perversity in its place.”
A fleck of spittle scattered across the Minister’s middle-aged lips when he spat out the word, “perversity”.
“Now we must speak candidly and directly. This effort is being led by those who hate God, by those who hate Scripture and by those who hate Christians. The unashamed liberals and homosexual activists want to overturn our values and they want to influence our homes and our children and our lives by telling us that same sex marriages and same sex relationships are normal and an acceptable way of life.”
‘Same sex relationships,’ she thought, ‘disgusting!’ The entire concept went against everything that her Mother and Father had taught her from a very early age.
“Friends, today we must wake up and realize that there is a war going on. It is a war and a battle for the future of our country. It is a battle over the future of our own lives and our families and our children and we must rise up and warn our people and fight this assault for the same of our future and our country.
“Today we must hear and see what God has said about the sin of homosexuality. And what we, as God’s people, must affirm and fight for as his standard for human relationships, for marriage and for life as we know it. This is not a time to be passive. This is not a time to be sitting on the sidelines, comfortably sitting there doing nothing.”
Christine felt her own blood stir. An electricity was building up inside the chapel, she saw her mother next to her nodding grimly. Her father grunted in agreement with the Minister, and his was not the only voice of affirmation in the crowd. The Minister had hit a cord amongst his parishioners.
“And so homosexuality is a sin and it isn’t just a little benign sin. In the eyes of God it is called an abomination. This is to say that like every other sin which is egregious in God’s eyes, when God says something is an abomination he is saying this, that it is truly repulsive to him, that it is absolutely gross, that it is abhorrent to him, that it is foul and detestable in his sight! It is repugnant before him.”
The Minister’s flecked spittle shot from between his barred teeth, his fists clenched and he pounded the pulpit. Christine herself wondered why anyone would ever want to offend God so terribly by being homosexual. How could anyone so openly decide to spit in God’s face and call upon his wrath? Surely they would burn in hell.
“And it is so deplorable before him that to the children of Israel he commanded instant death for the parties who engaged in something like this.
“You don’t believe me?” He asked, daring any one of the parishioners to challenge him, daring any closet liberal in the audience to try and defend the indefensible. But he knew his audience and he knew that any house in the town not sporting a flag did have a ‘Support our Troops!’ sticker. Every person in that spotlessly white wooden chapel knew exactly what and who he spoke of, and they imagined the liberals and the activists, and prayed that none of them would ever leave their enclaves in the big cities to sully their perfect little world.
Christine felt the heady and virulent feeling in the room – it was palpable.
“Well, here we begin to see the standard of God and how he feels about it. Leviticus 19:2 says, ‘Speak to the children and the congregation of Israel and say to them, “You shall be holy for I am holy.”’ And then in chapter 20 he says this. He says, “If a man lies with a male as he lies with a woman, both of them have committed an abomination. They shall surely be put to death. Their blood shall be upon them.” He repeated it in Leviticus 18 as well. He said, ‘You shall not lie with a male as with a woman. It is an abomination.’
“Now some people might say, ‘Well, come on, pastor. You know, that was then. This is now.’ Well, I’m here to tell you. God is the same yesterday, today and forever. In fact, his moods do not swing and his values do not swing left or right like ours do. He says, ‘I am the Lord and I do not change.’ And within the chapter here as you look at Leviticus 18, even 19 and 20, God lists out all types of deviant sexual behaviours, sexual sins that he commands his people not to engage in, lest they defile their land. In fact, the bottom line reason is because if they carry on in these types of sins they defile the very land that they walk on, such as incest, adultery, fornication, bestiality, homosexuality as we already said. All of these, God says, are perversions and they defile the land.”
‘The fornicators’, she thought, ‘sick, perverse, sleeping with animals or their sisters or brothers. Homosexuals were the same. An outrage. Disgusting.’
“But the sin of homosexuality is not only considered and called an abomination in Scripture, it is also wickedness. Turn over to Genesis 19. The book of Genesis in chapter 19, we have an account of an entire city that was destroyed, Sodom and Gomorrah as you might know, being destroyed by God for a particular sin of homosexuality. Genesis 19:1 begins by saying that God had sent two angels to Sodom in the evening. “And Lot was sitting at the gate of Sodom.”
“Lot, being the nephew of Abraham. He was living in Sodom. When Lot saw them, he rose to meet them, and he bowed himself with his face toward the ground. And he said, ‘Here now, my lords, please turn in to your servant’s house and spend the night, and wash your feet; then you may rise early and go on your way.’ And they said, ‘No, but we will spend the night in the open square.’ But he insisted strongly; and you will pick up why.
“Now before they lay down, the men of the city, the men of Sodom, both old and young, all the people from every quarter, surrounded the house. And they called to Lot and said to him, ‘Where are the men who came to you tonight? Bring them out to us that we may know them carnally.’”
“No!” Her father shouted with several other parishioners. Christine looked toward her father to see the slow burn of outrage and hatred in his eyes.
“Yes!” The Minister answered, “it’s all in your bible. The Lord speaks clearly through scripture.” He answered them before continuing, “And then Lot went out to them through the doorway, shut the door behind him, and said, ‘Please, my brethren, do not do so wickedly!’ Do not act wickedly. Do not do this wicked thing.
“You see, the Bible sees homosexual behaviour, first and foremost, as a wicked perversion of sex, sex that God has given us between a man and a woman.”
Murmurs of agreement. Her mother nodding again.
“And in traditional marriage this is a beautiful thing. But when it gets perverted it is an abomination. It is a wickedness before God. For a male to have sexual relations with another male or a female to have that kind of relationship with another female is a wicked thing before the Lord.”
And for the first time Christine realised that homosexuality applied to either sex. She’d been so fixated on the language of the bible and ‘not laying down with a man as you would with a woman’. The realisation was kind of strange. She knew that men could be homosexuals.
Homosexuality had been the ultimate crime for boys at school. “Backs to the wall, John’s on the crawl!” She’d seen a whole class of boys turn on the quiet and delicate looking white boy from New York. John spent more time in the library than on the track and had no obvious interest in football. The assumption had been made was that he was queer.
“Bum’s to the ceiling, Jack’s got that feeling!” The boys would all laugh.
He’d left school in a matter of months, but not before he’d been made a pariah both at school and in town. Even the town’s adults had talked in hushed tones about the gangly, odd looking boy.
Christine had taken part in any number of conversations about the apparent queer in their ranks. Her girlfriends, particularly Jeannie who had a fascination with all things scandalous and carnal, were all convinced that the effeminate looking John was a “taker”. There had been plenty of discussion about his supposed habits, with particular effort aimed at disgusting each other with ever-increasing descriptions of John’s supposedly perverse proclivities.
Sometimes those conversations had naturally led into a broader discussion about anal sex. That was a topic on which Christine held very strong views and woe betide any girl who suggested she might be curious or even possibly fancy such an experiment. Christine knew an anus was for things to go out, not in. Anyone who disagreed was a slut and a harlot and few girls would ever dare challenge the popular Christine on this point.
But women with other women? Why? Christine asked herself. What was the point? She could kind of understand men with men, they had their things which they could use in other holes other than a vagina (which was disgusting and against God), but she could at least see the attraction. Men’s things were for putting in places. But what would women do with other women?
Christine, even at this delicate age, was not immune to the attentions of boys and men, she’d been to third base a few times with different guys and was probably only waiting on the right guy before she went all the way. So she understood the mechanics of sex, but what on earth could possibly happen between two women.
“Now one thing we must be clear about, aside from all the rhetoric that we hear today about love and commitment and fidelity that homosexual partners want to have and they tell us that that’s really what it is all about. At the root of all homosexuality is the carnal desire to carry on this deviant form of sex with one another. I know that is pretty explicit, but that is what it is all about. And why is it deviant? Because it is unnatural, unnatural! It is contrary to nature and it is contrary to how God made us and how we function as human beings.”
Unnatural? Christine tried to imagine what unnatural acts might happen where two women were involved. The anal sex side of things with men she could clearly count as wrong, anal sex was against god! But…
She put the thought to one side and listened on to the sermon that was beginning to reach its crescendo.
“This is an unnatural thing. It is a perversion of his creative design and his purpose and his intent. We don’t have the authority to change this. We don’t have the right to dispute this just because we like and because we want to. But you and I know that there are many in our society who really don’t care and give a rip about what God says or what he, you know, has declared in his Word. In fact, that is another battle going on today in our society, right? Get rid of the book, get rid of the Bible and you get rid of the very premise and basis for our belief.”
Christine shook her head, along with so many other people in the room.
“And now let us pray: Father, we know this is a difficult subject and it has been hard to have to put this on the table and realize, Lord, that this is what is going on. It is like that old adage. It is like the pink elephant that walks in the room. Nobody wants to talk about it, but somebody has to talk about it. And, Lord, as watchmen we need to talk about it and we need to warn our country, our families, our nation that your will, your desire is your Word. You have forever spoken and your Word is truth. And so, Lord, help us to uphold the banner of truth. Help us to uphold the banner of righteousness. Help us, Lord, to seek and save the lost who are repenting and that you are drawing out of this world that is like the Titanic that is going down.
“Lord, we ask you for that grace upon each of our lives today and every day in Jesus’ name. Amen.”
Christine’s mother nodded at the appropriateness of the prayer and her father said Amen just a little too loudly as did several other parishioners. Christine herself said amen with more conviction than she had in many many months at church. She almost felt God’s approval as she denounced the evil and immoral act of homosexuality with those tiny two syllables.
Amen.
---
Christine sat bolt upright in bed and screamed. Sweat sheeted off her body and her single thin sheet was twisted up between her thighs.
Pain had kissed her. And if she was honest with herself she had liked it! It was unthinkable!
She wasn’t homosexual! She’d had boyfriends! Particularly Brad who’d taken her virginity clumsily in the back of his father’s car.
So why had Pain tried to kiss her? It was unthinkable. It was wrong! It was unnatural, repulsive, gross, foul and abhorrent!
I’m not homosexual! I am not a lesbian! She wailed in her own mind.
‘Okay. Okay. Okay. Calm down.’ She deliberately slowed her breathing trying desperately to sooth her thoughts and attempt to think rationally.
‘You’re not a lesbian just because Pain tried to kiss you. She is. She’s the one that’s sick. You don’t have to worry about it. Your soul is safe.’
‘But you liked it, didn’t you? ‘
‘No! No, I didn’t! It was wrong and repulsive and unnatural! She pulled her knees into her chest and wrapped her arms around them.
‘I didn’t like it. And I would never. It’s foul and wrong and abhorrent before God. I am not a homosexual. Just Pain. It’s her that’s ill and will go to hell. Not me.’
‘Not me…
‘Your only friend in this terrible place and you’re going to cast her aside?’
‘If I have to! It’s wrong. She’s wrong. My soul is more important.
‘My soul is more important…’
---
Dawn arrived slowly. Christine had been afraid to go back to sleep, afraid to confront her dreams and memories. Afraid that her mother, father, Minister and friends would confront her, surround her, point at her, call her names, cast her out and chase her from her rightful home.
“Go on! Get the little lezzie!” Her overly active imagination dreaded.
With thoughts like these going through her mind Christine knew better than to go back to bed and allow her imagination to continue crafting its imaginings into a hideous nightmare from which she wouldn’t escape. So she stayed awake and was eventually very glad to see the sun’s first rays reach up over the horizon and paint the sky red and yellow through some dark and pregnant clouds. It would be a wet and stormy day outside.
Minutes later Sophie came over the radio bud she had in her ear. “Girls, I don’t want you to get upset, but there will be a small delay this morning before you are released from your rooms. It’s to do with Rubber. Please hold on, I’ll tell you why as soon as I can.”
Christine thought for a moment or two. Rubber! With everything else that had been going through her mind she’d forgotten that Rubber had been left dangling above the enormous latex dildo. What had happened? Was she alright?
‘Oh my god, is she dead?’
A thousand questions flew through her mind with a hundred visions of what might be happening – each more gory and unthinkable than the previous.
It seemed like an hour later had passed before Sophie returned, but in fact it had only been five minutes, “Okay – first, Rubber has been hurt, but it’s okay! Its okay, she’ll be alright. Mister Green has her on a stretcher and she’s been taken to the infirmary – “
Sophie’s voice disappeared momentarily, then, “School has asked whether you will be able to see her. The answer to that is not right now. I’m guessing she’ll be in surgery for a while, and then after that – I don’t know. She’s been hurt a bit; she was bleeding, but conscious. I’m sure she’ll be okay, so don’t worry too much about her.”
Christine heard herself speak up toward the microphones in the roof, “If she’s in the infirmary I’ll see her when I go to get my tube replaced.”
Sophie passed the information back to the other two girls. “School says thank you. She’s quite upset, can the two of you” – Christine realised Sophie meant Pain and her. How uncomfortable. “–keep an eye on her please? I’m a bit worried.”
Christine nodded even though she felt emotionally and physically divorced from her situation. It was as though someone else were talking and thinking. Objectively things were even worse now than they had been yesterday and yet she felt nothing right at this moment. It was as though she’d stepped out of her body and was watching someone else act her part.
“They’ve gone. Rubber’s on her way downstairs.” Sophie advised, “Your doors will open in a moment.”
Christine sat on the edge of her bed waiting quietly.
The door opened and she stood in her squelching diaper. She immediately walked to the table and recovered the key the masters had left that would free her from her plastic pants and their fouled contents. She saw School step out, red eyed and fresh from crying. For the first time while she’d been here she saw School clearly out of sorts. The fiery red head usually led with her chin, the visage of a super model on her face in spite of her circumstances. Now she looked scared, mousey and not a little vulnerable. Christine – or the automaton that was currently operating Christine – saw and registered School’s situation. She should go to her.
‘No you shouldn’t. She’s a homosexual, like all the others. They will all burn in hell.’ The Minister’s voice told her.
She turned and saw Pain emerging sheepishly from her room. The plump blonde looked immediately to Christine, looking for something, some recognition, anything. But whatever it was that Pain was looking for wasn’t there – Christine’s eyes were empty. So Pain averted her gaze and instead tottered over to School whom she hugged and comforted.
Christine looked at the two distressed girls and then at the key in her hand and walked into the bathroom, closing the door behind her
---
She didn’t say a word to either Pain or School before the inspection. Pain passed her on the way to the bathroom but dared not even try and make eye contact. Perhaps she realised the magnitude of her crime.
Neither did School say a word. She sat silently at the breakfast table nursing the same spoonful of cereal for the entire time that Christine fixed herself a Spartan meal. School’s red and puffy eyes looked through the wall, contemplating some invisible object half a mile distant. Christine didn’t interrupt the girl’s reverie. She didn’t know what to say, and even if she did know what to say, she would have chosen not to.
‘Tell her she’s repulsive in the eyes of God!” The Minister’s voice demanded, his foaming spittle spraying across the pulpit.
Christine ate her toast and fruit and considered School’s deflated form carefully. She remembered the morning that School had been seized up for her strapping. Even then she’d walked proudly to the table to take her punishment. She remembered School berating her for failing to submit to the masters and for causing Pain’s terrible ordeal at the hands of Mister Green.
That School was gone and in its place was the broken, sullen girl before her. Why? Did she truly care so much for Rubber? Christine put the thought to one side to consider later. She had to get dressed.
---
The worst part was the perspective. Everyone looked very much taller, even Pain at her mere five and a bit feet tall looked like an Amazon when you were on your hands and knees. Christine could even see the underside of the common room table.
She sat on the ground in her doorway, her legs gathered up beneath her in her new blue romper with the red piping. She should have felt humiliated in the clothing she wore, but she still felt as though someone else were living her life for her. The distance she felt from herself was odd. Fluffy. Almost like her brain were filled with cotton. Shock, her brain told her. Probably shock. That would explain it. All the things you’ve suffered, and now with what’s happened to Rubber…
It was Mister Black who appeared for the morning inspection. He wore a white linen suit which contrasted sharply with his Mephistopheles-styled facial hair. He grinned evilly as he approached School in her yellow and blue cheerleader outfit.
He looked closely over School, firstly at her attire, and then he noticed what was obvious to everyone else.
“Upset?” He asked casually.
“Master?” She asked evasively.
“You’re upset.” He stated matter-of-factly, “Afraid the same might happen to you girly?” Mister Black asked, completely missing the real motivation for School’s emotions.
School, although bereft and upset, was clever enough to take advantage of Mister Black’s mistake, “Yes Master,” She replied quietly.
“Her cunt’s split. You know that? Torn up by that monster cock. We found her slumped over it bleeding like a stuck pig.” He pulled up School’s little blue and yellow skirt and thrust his hand down the front of School’s blue lycra sports briefs. “Sunk almost all the way to the bottom of that thing she did. You know how big it was?” School shook her head, “Well that’s three fingers right now slut, and by the way your squirming I’d guess that’s a little uncomfortable for you right?”
“Yes Sir,” she simpered.
“That’s four now and unless my math has slipped, that’s about a tenth of the size of the cock Rubber had up her. My fingers are about an inch and a half all the way around when they’re shoved all the way up that filthy little fuck hole of yours, and that cock she had in her snatch was about fifteen inches in circumference. So imagine what I’m doing now and multiply that by ten. Think you could stand it slut?”
“No sir,” she begged.
“Ha!” He laughed and pulled his hand out from between her legs. He cast one last dismissive eye over her and then moved down the line to Pain.
Mister Black had in previous encounters shown he had a particular antipathy toward the girl dressed all in white. This was even more obvious at this moment as a look of sheer disgust covered his face as he stood square to her.
“Morning fatty.”
“Good morning sir.” Pain said correctly, careful to not invoke any more reaction from him than necessary.
“What about you. You upset that the Rubber slut’s hole is split and ruined?”
“Sir?” She said taken off guard at the brutality of the question.
“It’s a simple question piggy. Are you upset for the rubber bitch? Or do you want a big man’s cock in you to do the same: stretching and filling you?”
“No sir.” She answered quickly.
“Ha! Trick question piggy! No man would stick his cock in a fatty like you, particularly a man with a big generous cock. You couldn’t even put a bag on your head, they’d see your fat gut and butt and go soft! No self respecting man could stick his cock in this big fat cunt,” Mister Black’s hand shot between Pain’s legs – the girl immediately gasped as his hand mashed the torturous gusset of her spiked and bristled panties into the perpetually pulverized flesh between her legs.
“Look at her gush!” Mister Black indicated to the two other girls, “I give her the smallest of friendly caresses and she turns to goo! Fat bitches are all the same, show them any sign of affection and they’re all over you. Get off me.” Much to Pain’s relief he removed his hand from her crotch.
Christine kept her eyes away from the encounter. Even after the events of yesterday evening she couldn’t help but feel some sympathy for Pain. The agony being visited on her was one thing, but the names and humiliation were something again. Pain wasn’t ‘fat’ by any stretch of the imagination. She could probably do with losing a few kilos off her thighs and bottom, but ultimately she was a superficially pretty girl.
‘Too bad she’s a repugnant deviant’, her small-town Minister screamed at her from the pulpit in her mind
“Open your pants piggy,” He ordered sharply. “Come on, hurry up, let me see that big fat pussy of yours.” Pain slowly unzipped her panties.
“Spread your legs and show me that plump cunt,” Pain shifted her feet wide, wincing in response as her new shoes dug their sharp protrusions into the soles of her feet and toes. Christine, who had momentarily caught a glimpse of Pain’s damaged genitals previously couldn’t help but look on as Pain spread her labia apart to display herself to Mister Black. It was like passing a fatal car accident. You knew the sight would be gruesome, nevertheless curiosity demanded you look.
From her vantage on the ground things didn’t quite look so bad as Christine seemed to remember. Maybe her imagination had embellished her memories but the soft folds of Pain’s skin merely looked red and irritated not the brutal shades of scarlet and crimson raw flesh that Christine remembered. Quickly she realised that she was staring at a woman’s crotch, and with recent events forefront her mind she quickly turned away, chastising herself for looking.
“Play with yourself fatty. I want to see those chubby little fingers in that podgy hole of yours.” Christine kept her eyes averted from the spectacle.
As Pain plied her clitoris and hole with her fingers, meanwhile Mister Black moved down the line to Christine. He looked down on the puddle of frills, bonnets and booties on the ground before him.
“What name did we give you?” He asked coldly.
Christine pulled the plastic pacifier out of her mouth to answer, “Lolita, Master.”
“Not Baby?”
“No Master.”
“And so?”
“So what?” She asked in a confused state.
“Do you care to explain what it is that you’re wearing?” He asked grumpily.
“Master Whi–” she paused and immediately corrected herself, “Daddy chose this outfit for me Master.”
“I see.”
He walked away from her.
“Well it’s not to my taste, but then I’ve got Piggy and this other slut to keep me amused.” He moved back to the centre of the room and checked to make sure Pain was still playing with herself. Pain was anxiously trying her best not to displease the sadist, and had three of her fingers shoved well and truly into her vagina with her thumb flicking along the top of her reddened clit.
“You look like you’re enjoying that piggy. Maybe it’s time for a treatment?”
“Sir, please no sir.” She said quietly.
“Yes, I think it is. I detect a hint of dew on your fingers, a wet slut means a happy slut, and what’s the one thing that you aren’t supposed to be piggy?”
“Happy sir.” She gulped.
“Right. So, downstairs and into the chair. You!” He pointed at School. “There’s a blackboard downstairs, you’ve got lines to do.”
“Yes sir.” School said reticently.
“And you,” he looked down at Christine, “You’re doing the chores.”
“Sir?” She asked quietly.
“What?” He barked back.
“Sorry sir, but I surely can’t do all the chores by myself, particularly when I can’t walk.” She attempted – stupidly – to reason with him.
“That is not my problem Lolita. You will do the chores, all of them, on this floor and below, and if they are not done by the appointed time I will personally ream out your arse hole like never before. Do I make myself clear?”
Christine gulped.
---
The screams started soon after the two other girls had been ushered down the stairs to the playroom. They were Pain’s screams. Christine shuddered each time she heard one, trying to remind herself that Pain deserved everything she got for being a filthy fornicator. But it was hard to maintain such a remote and callous attitude toward someone that she knew, even if she was critical of Pain’s personal morals.
Christine was herself struggling with her tasks. It was near impossible to sweep and mop properly when your only mode of movement was crawling. She couldn’t get a proper angle on the broom or mop, and it took her forever to move about the floor. But with Mister Black’s threat hanging over her she worked like a demon. By the time she’d cleaned the bathroom, made up each of the girl’s bedrooms and cleaned the common room she was only just running on schedule.
Negotiating the stairs was another struggle. She made her way slowly down the stairs head first, her knees and palms of her hands aching from all the crawling she’d had to do. When she reached the playroom, it took her a few moments to observe what was going on.
In one corner of the room stood a large blackboard with School standing in front of it scrawling lines. Two-thirds of the blackboard was covered in her tiny spidery script. Each line repeating the same phrase over and over again: “I will keep on writing lines unti l I beg to have my cunt caned.
“I will keep on writing lines until I beg to have my cunt caned.
“I will keep on writing lines until I beg to have my cunt caned.
“I will keep on writing lines until I beg to have my cunt caned.
“I will keep on writing lines until I beg to have my cunt caned.”
School held her writing wrist with her left hand to provide additional support. From time to time she’d shake out her cramped hand trying to give some relief to the bunched up muscles.
Pain on the other hand was strapped into the enormous hardwood chair in the middle of the room sporting the octagonal hole cut into its seat. She’d been stripped of her panties and bra and strapped down firmly to the chair. From her forehead, which was held back by a single strap to the headrest, to her ankles which were securely fastened to each of the two leg rests spreading out from the chair at 45 degree angles, her entire body was immobilised against the chair.
Mister Black sat on his haunches between Pain’s legs, his attention clearly taken up with the girl’s genitals. Christine couldn’t tell what he was doing until she got closer. Whatever it was however, was causing Pain unbearable pain. Her screams were on a par with when Mister Green had tightened her bra.
Christine collected her broom from the utility cupboard and commenced sweeping. When she approached the heavy wooden chair she couldn’t help but take a closer look at what Mister Black was up to. First, Mister Black had clamped each of Pain’s outer labia so that he could manipulate them at will. The two clamps were fierce clover clamps, designed to clamp down all the harder should a person pull upon them. In one hand he pulled on one of the clamps exposing the full length of Pain’s outer labia, and with his other hand he was scraping a finely toothed round file hard along the inner and outer surfaces of her labia. Systematically he was making his way from one edge, across its surface and then onto the even softer tissue of her inner labia. He’d already finished with her right-hand labia majora and it hung down due to the weight of the clamp. Consequently Christine could effectively see a before and after shot of Mister’s Black’s work.
The left lip, which he had only just started on, was merely red and irritated as Christine had seen upstairs earlier, but the right lip, where he had finished his evil work, was an evil pulsing and purplish crimson. Working carefully he’d succeeded in removing all but the last few protective layers of Pain’s skin from her genitals. Christine wondered what that could possibly feel like for Pain and she imagined those times when she’d removed layers of skin from various parts of her own anatomy. Especially the extreme sensitivity that she’d encountered. Hot and cold became far more pronounced, with the seemingly most mild of temperatures suddenly giving you great discomfort. And of course any injury would be felt all the more acutely.
Christine forgot all about Pain’s supposed transgressions as she realised that his horrific treatment, together with the impact of her underwear, would cause the most insidious and inescapable pain imaginable.
Christine quickly moved on, pushing her broom awkwardly across the room. With each rasp of the file across her flesh Pain screamed terribly as another faint layer of skin was removed from her already sensitive genitals. Slowly the sadist worked the file back and forth over the increasingly tenderised flesh, occasionally blowing flecks of abraded skin away from his target sites resulting in more despondent moans from his victim. No corner of her genitals was spared, the little round file ground away over ever millimetre of her flesh. When he finished on her outer labia he moved on to the inner, eliciting even more terrible screams and moans from the poor blonde girl. But the worst was yet to come as the file sank into the end of her vaginal tract, ensuring that the very edge of her womanly channel was ground red raw and almost bloody. Christine shivered as she imagined what it might feel like to have an object, any object whether smooth or otherwise, enter her hole after it had received such ghastly treatment. The sensations would be truly horrific.
Pain’s clitoris received the same treatment, its delicate surface scuffed up and removed by Mister Black’s expert wielding of the file. Christine was polishing the enormous Saint Andrew’s cross directly opposite Pain when Mister Black started his next phase. Finished with her tortured labia and vaginal hole, Mister Black began anew, this time on Pain’s delicate anus.
The piercing screams made it very difficult for Christine to concentrate. She looked across to see Pain’s head, strapped to the chair, her eyes clenched closed with a stream of tears oozing out from between her saturated eyelids. Her mouth held open in a tortured wail and her face entirely contorted by the horrific pain being visited on her by the file. The file gradually slivered the delicate folds of skin away from her pucker, and then commenced abrading the innermost muscular ring of her bottom. Pain’s screams were now continuous, and her voice was going hoarse.
Finally Mister Black stood to his feet nodding in appreciation at his sterling work. For the next couple of weeks every breeze on Pain’s naked holes would feel like a razor, a brush against the bristles in her pants would feel like knives slicing through her flesh. Any touch of flesh on the affected area would feel like molten lava and with every beat of her heart she would feel the pulse of her blood through the abraded membranes in her pussy and arse.
“I don’t like it when fat cunts feel pleasure,” he told her unnecessarily as her screams lapsed into sobs, “Your fuck hole is for pain and pain only. And your filthy rectum isn’t even good enough for my sperm.” He released one of her hands from its restraint. “Let’s see you juice up now you tubby slut, huh?”
“No, please sir, please, please,” she begged miserably.
“Get those fat fingers in that fucking hole or I’ll fetch a special vibrator for you, one with some very special features.” Pain gulped at his threat and her hand slowly descended.
“Please, please, please, please,” she muttered over and over to herself, and Christine’s heart went out to the poor girl. It didn’t matter that she was a fornicator, she was still a person. And who was not to say that she hadn’t been driven to her sins as a consequence of her barbaric treatment at the hands of the masters.
Her hand finally rested over her crotch, but she didn’t touch it, “Please Master Black, please, I can already feel the heat of my hand and I’m not even touching myself, please, for the love of god have some mercy, you’ve never taken it this far before, I hurt so much!” She wailed.
“If that fat fucking hand isn’t making a very special effort to fuck your fat cunt in the next few seconds Pain, I will carry out my threat. The mark two maybe?”
“No! Not that, please sir, you don’t understand! Maybe I can do something else, anything else, please don’t make me touch myself!”
“You can do something else, you can take a mark two, five, four,” He began walking to the cupboard, “three, two,”
“Okay, okay,” she relented. Slowly she lay one of her fingers on the newly grazed and raw flesh. Christine couldn’t help but look on as Pain began sobbing even deeper the moment her singular finger touched her crimson slit. She moved her finger tentatively, slowly and timidly, and with each minute movement she cried and sobbed ever deeper.
“More.” Mister Black demanded. A second finger joined the first, and with increasingly frantic squeals, Pain parted her scoured inner labia, sucking in humongous breaths in an effort to control herself and sank her two fingers into her tortured hole. Christine watched on with morbid curiosity as the tent in Mister Black’s pants grew ever larger at the sight of Pain invasively thrusting her fingers into her practically skinless hole. Every moment must have been absolute agony for the poor girl, and her never-ending cascade of tears gave proof to the unbelievable pain she must currently feel.
“Now the other hole.” Mister Black said evilly.
Pain’s hand pulled slowly, ever so slowly out of her vagina, and her finger dropped slowly to her bottom.
“Good, you see slut, not a drop of moisture on that finger, that’s what we like, not an ounce of pleasure to be gained from touching yourself now, only pain. Isn’t that right?”
“Yes sir,” she agreed in misery.
“And the added bonus, of course, is that your chubby little finger there, the one that you’re about to shove in that sore and near-skinned shitter of yours, hasn’t an ounce of lube on it. Now get it in your arsehole, now!” Mister Black demanded, “And then I can get started on your breasts…” He promised as he displayed a piece of medium grade sandpaper.
From the first scream that had come from Pain as Mister Black had clamped her labia, to the last scream when he restored her punishment bra to her, complete with a pair of red angry breasts rubbed raw with sandpaper, School kept on writing neatly on her blackboard: “I will keep on writing lines until I beg to have my cunt caned.
“I will keep on writing lines until I beg to have my cunt caned.
“I will keep on writing lines until I beg to have my cunt caned.
“I will keep on writing lines until I beg to have my cunt caned.
“I will keep on writing lines until I beg to have my cunt caned.
“I will keep on writing lines until I beg to have my cunt caned.
“I will keep on writing lines until I beg to have my cunt caned.
“I will keep on writing lines until I beg to have my cunt caned.
“I will keep on writing lines until I beg to have my cunt caned.”
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