Tessa Valmur - Bought and Sold

On one day, Zoe and Mandy had been working in the kitchens when one of the monks had complained that his porridge was cold. Mandy had immediately accepted the blame and promptly one of the kitchen workbenches was cleared of everything from its work surface. Zoe watched in horror and fascination as the girl willingly removed her skirt and climbed onto the bench. She lay face down and spread her legs and arms, clutching the edge of the table with her hands. One of the monks removed the sash from her breasts and ordered her to stretch her arms out above her head. She did as she was told and the monk wrapped the sash around her wrists, drawing her hands together. She was then told to spread her legs and with dismay Zoe watched the girl immediately obey.

Two more of the monks took the long canes with which Zoe was now all too familiar with and proceeded to give her a thorough thrashing. They were experts at telling how much a slave could take and worked the slender rods across her buttocks, taking it in turn to strike from the left and then the right, until her the soft pillows of flesh were bright pink all over, Mandy groaning and twisting against the hands that held her but keeping her legs obediently open. Abruptly one of the monks stopped the beating long enough to dig his fingers between the punished cheeks and delve into her sex. When he withdrew his hand, his fingers glistened with Mandy's juices.

The monks smiled and then resumed the beating. This time one of them resumed the assault on her quivering buttocks while the other cracked the cane across her shoulders and back. Mandy's body continued to writhe and her groans escalated into shrieks. But Zoe sympathised with the girl. She was experiencing real pain but was helpless to stop herself from experiencing real pleasure as well.

'So Mandy, tell me what you feel you have learnt,' the monk demanded when they at last seemed to have decided that she had suffered enough.

The poor girl held down across the bench sniffed back her tears and when she spoke her voice was choked with the conflicting emotions Zoe knew so well.

'I have learnt that I can still be a bad girl and I need to be punished.'

Zoe felt her stomach lurch. These were words that she herself had been made to repeat. One of many mantras the girls were made to recite as part of their training.

'And what else have you learnt?'

'That when you punish me I am glad because you help to teach me how bad I am,' Mandy answered.

'And?'

'And I wish to thank you with all my body.'

'Good girl Mandy. Well done. Now you may show your thanks.'

The monk walked around to the head of the bench.

Zoe knew these words too; she'd been forced to say them repeatedly after her own beatings and dreaded the day when she would say them with complete sincerity. The monk stood before the girl's face, lifted his cassock and stepped closer to her. Zoe watched as the girl eagerly began to lick and suck his displayed cock, which was already hard and soon began to jerk and twitch as her tongue bathed it adoringly with licks and kisses.

'Swallow like a good girl, slave.'

The young girl's lips close around the head of the shaft, the monk gave a contented smile and Zoe watched transfixed as Mandy gulped down his come devotedly.

'Now Mandy, what do you say?'

'Thank you. Please let me serve you again whenever you wish.'

The man patted her affectionately on the head then turned away.

'Tie her down on the bench and leave her like this for the rest of the day.'

Zoe shook her head in disbelief then to her alarm she saw the monk had happened just at that moment to glance in her direction.

'You don't think she should suffer for her wickedness, Zoe?' the monk, about to leave the kitchen, paused, one hand resting on the door handle which he was about to open and walk through.

'I... I... um...' Zoe stammered.

'Speak girl!'

'It's not fair! She's apologised and she's contrite. She should be forgiven! Don't you believe in forgiveness?'

The man nodded, seeming to digest Zoe's question. She held her breath, waiting for his answer, already a terrible sense of foreboding hanging over her.

'Then I shall reduce her suffering by a half as a measure of my kindness. She can be released mid-afternoon.'

'Thank you,' Zoe said.

'And,' the man pointed an accusing finger at Zoe, 'You can take the remainder of her punishment as your reward for daring to question my judgement!'

'No!'

'Take her and tie her down! She obviously needs to be taught a lesson!'

'No!' Zoe cried as several monks descended upon her and dragged her kicking and screaming across to another workbench.

'You must learn Zoe that you are here to worship us. You have no other choice but devotion to the brethren. Deviation will only bring you suffering. Do you want to suffer my child?'

'Go to hell...' Zoe swore, as she was held down on her stomach across a workbench. She twisted and fought like mad, fully aware of what was about to happen, yet strangely eager to experience what the other girl had just been put through. Her skirt was flicked up exposing her buttocks. She twisted and writhed and more hands clasped hold of her legs and arms to keep her still. Her heart was hammering, her body bathed in sweat, adrenaline rushing through her as she struggled against the men. She could smell their sweat as they battled to subdue her and thrashing her head from side to side she glimpsed their eager, lascivious gazes.

'Such a stubborn girl. Brother Michael, give her a dozen strokes of the cane to calm her down before we give her the rest.'

'No! This isn't fair! Let me go you bastards!'

Zoe knew she had no chance to escape and that resistance would only bring more punishment but something was driving her on to rebel. Was it a refusal to submit? Or was it a desire to have more punishment inflicted upon herself? Her mind was full of the memory of the last time she was whipped and how agonisingly sweet the pain had felt. How delicious the feeling of sexual arousal from suffering...

The hands grasping her ankles and wrists pulled her limbs harder until she was gasping with the discomfort of being held so tightly stretched. She looked up at the determined faces of the men around her. She was panting hard and her breasts ached from being pressed down against the tabletop. The muscles in her arms and legs were drawn so taut the pain needled through her body making her cry out for them to stop, even knowing that they wouldn't, not until they were finished and she'd been properly punished.

They had her completely at their mercy now; all she could do was shout and beg and they could easily prevent her from doing that too. She had only to start raising her voice in protest and she knew they'd gag her. What with, she wondered? The memory of her head being restrained, cloth or the hard rubber of a ball-gag being insinuated into between her jaws was fresh and vivid. She knew she needed that to complete the feeling of helplessness.

'Let me go! Damn you! Stop it!'

It took only a second for them to respond. A hand clasped her tousled hair and drew her head firmly back. An apple was jammed into her mouth. Zoe tried to thrash her head but there was a hand under her chin and her head was held forcibly still. The sash from around her breasts was removed and drawn across her mouth, covering the apple. As she shook her head in objection the sash was knotted at her nape.

Ropes were looped and bound her wrists and ankles and secured to the wooden legs of the bench.

'Now Zoe, it's time for you to enjoy the purifying pain of the cane... you will feel so much better when this is over... We know you want to be a good girl and we'll help you. All you need to do to is to nod when you realise how bad you have been and that you want to thank us by giving us your body.'