After School

Chapter Three-3

Sister Angel was a proponent of post discipline. She strongly demonstrated her preferences for disciplinary and training sessions with her subject tightly bound to the post. Therefore, it was quite normal that she worked hard to find the position that got the most response from the stringently bound Lucy. She often subjected the girl to a forward-facing regimen, which involved forcing Lucy to climb a short ladder that leaned against the post and turn around, placing her naked back against the post. Lucy’s arms went around the post and Angel pulled her wrists back and tied them together, then tied them to the highest ring at the top rear of the post. Angel had several techniques for this kind of punishment, but at this point, she decided to incorporate a seldom-used feature. From an iron-bound trunk in the courtyard, Angel removed a thick piece of old and stained hardwood, about the same size and thickness as a woman’s forearm, with one end narrowed and two holes drilled through it, at about midway, about two inches apart. Also from the trunk, she removed a large, carved wooden plug in the shape of an inverted mushroom and another slightly longer wooden replica of a p***s. It was no accident that the bases of these two objects fit neatly into the two holes in the larger piece of wood. While Lucy watched in horrified fascination, Angel assembled the device, then laboriously eased herself up the ladder and drove the narrow end of the arm-shaped wooden branch into a hole in the post directly below Lucy’s spread thighs. With signs, Angel instructed Lucy to step off the ladder and align her p***y and butt hole with the twin projections on the arm.

Shaking her head and weeping openly, the girl refused to move.

Angel, gesticulating with more insistence, finally reached up and pulled one of Lucy’s feet from its precarious hold on the ladder rung. The girl’s body slumped downward, supported by only one leg and her pinioned arms, catching the projecting arm and its double dildoes between her thighs. She screamed behind the gag, but could not avoid wiggling and straining to allow first one and then the other prong to find its painful way into the tightly clenched openings between her legs. To aid this blind maneuvering, Angel pulled Lucy’s other foot from the ladder and then yanked the ladder away, leaving Lucy no foothold and bringing her down onto the narrow perch with both hard dongs entirely enveloped by her cunt and asshole and her feet flailing the air, seeking some sort of additional support beyond her agonized, bisected pelvis.

Always ready to assist, Angel repositioned the ladder behind Lucy and climbed up to wind more course rope around Lucy’s narrow waist, pinning her to the post. Next, she pulled the impaled girl’s thin ankles individually up behind her and tied them to a single ring at the back of the post, at roughly the same height as her waist. Then she again removed the ladder, no longer having any need for it. This left Lucy hanging with her hands pulled up high on either side of the wide post; her straining legs spread apart and folded back, her split crotch soundly centered on the wooden perch and all of the desirable areas of her lush body exposed to Sister Angel’s further whims.

Just then, with incredibly perfect timing, Mother Bolia happened to walk through this particular training courtyard. She saw Sister Angel preparing her subject for yet another lesson and walked over, her sharp eyes studying the suffering girl displayed so effectively on the thick post. Angel stopped her arduous labor of tying and tightening and turned to her superior, raising her eyebrows a bit as if to ask what, if anything, Mother Bolia required from her. Using the cloister’s adopted secret hand sign language, Bolia signed that she wanted Angel to place the ladder back against the post, but on the rear, so that the top of the ladder just reached Lucy’s folded knees. Puzzled, Angel complied and then again, asked with another questioning look, for Mother Bolia’s orders.

Bolia smiled, a rare event, and Sister Angel felt a coldness in her stomach. Using her hands and body language, Bolia showed Sister Angel that she wanted the sister to strip herself naked and climb the ladder. Amazed, questioning, but always faithful to the orders of her superior, Angel slowly removed her garments and headgear, revealing her short, brown hair and a figure that was equally voluptuous to that of her suffering subject hanging on the post. Gingerly, in her bare feet, she mounted the ladder and placed herself with her back against the post, feeling Lucy’s trembling fingers and toes scratching her back. Mother Bolia then gestured to Sister Grace, one of the several nuns who stood in the courtyard, watching this unusual spectacle. The sister hurried over, expectant and also fearful that she was about to be added to the post. Signals passed between them while Angel shook and shivered as her small feet tried to stay positioned on the top rung of the unsteady ladder. Lucy continued to weep silently.

Grace ran to the nearby wall, removed a longer wooden ladder, gaining the help of another sister. They came back to the post, positioning the ladder on the side with the top rung near the ring where Lucy’s hands were bound. Up the ladder went Sister Grace with a handful of new rope. She had Angel raise her hands and bound them to the ring on the reverse side, over Lucy’s head, her arms embracing the post. Grace also tied Angel’s elbows to the post for extra security, then she came down the ladder a few rungs and tied Angel’s waist at the same level as Lucy’s. Glancing at Mother Bolia for approval, Grace then tied Angel’s ankles and pulled them up behind her, spreading her knees and binding the ankles in the same fashion as Lucy’s. Mother Bolia once again smiled and nodded.

As Grace was about to descend the ladder, Bolia made another quick gesture and Grace, nearing falling off the ladder in fright, studied the Superior’s gestures again, blushed and proceeded to tie a long rope to the front of Angel’s waist rope, just below her navel. She made it a double length and then fed both rough strands through the flattened brown hair of Sister Angel’s slightly splayed crotch and up through the anal divide, then, with some difficulty, through a narrow hole in the post. The twin ropes exited from the through-post tunnel at just about where Lucy’s waist was tied. With great difficulty and considerable agility on the ladder, Sister Grace manipulated the rope ends downward through Lucy’s ass crack, around the double impalements and pulled them smartly up through Lucy’s crotch, making the girl rise a bit off the projecting arm. Lucy was now constantly weeping, her muted cries seeping pitifully through and around the gag. Considering her already strenuous position, with much of her weight now on the projecting arm and the crotch strands of the rope, it seemed to her that she was about to be sliced right up the middle by the multiple pressures between her legs.

Grace tied off the ends of the rope at Lucy’s waist. This arrangement put tension on the p***y of both women, but the circuitous route of the ropes left too much slack for Mother Bolia to accept, so she handed Grace two short sticks of hardwood from a nearby firewood pile and showed her how to insert them into the ropes and twist until the ropes tightened. This system worked perfectly and as Grace positioned the wooden sticks at the junction of ropes on each abdomen, she immediately found that by twisting the sticks as handles, she could tighten the crotch ropes. Grace commenced slowly turning the improvised handles. The two hanging women moaned in protest as the rope dug deeper into their p*****s and jammed their asses hard against the post. For Lucy, this tension also pushed the internal probes against the inside of her dual apertures and created mixed intensity of pain and arousal. Bolia watched intently and signed when she felt the ropes were now tight enough. She handed Grace a combination mouth plug and sound sealer gag from her endless collection and Grace fitted the silencing device onto Angel’s head. There was no resistance, only Sister Angel’s wide-eyed look of disbelief as Grace inserted the massive leather plug between her open lips, shoved it deep into her mouth and held it there with a thick strap that Grace pulled harshly back behind her head and tied. The second component was the sealer portion that attached to the front of the gag plug and covered Angel’s face from the bottom of her chin to the base of her nose. Grace positioned this wide, padded rectangle to Angel’s head with straps that went around her head and under her chin, making a tight and efficient seal for any sounds that might bypass the plugging leather already filling the sister’s mouth.

Angel’s eyes were wide. She had the look that Bolia knew so well: that of a fully gagged and stuffed woman whose oral cavity was so full that her cheeks overflowed the top of the gag and her eyes seemed to bug out from the pressure of the gag and harness on her head.

Before stepping down from the ladder, Sister Grace once again checked with Bolia for approval. Bolia stood, looking first at the twin hanging female bodies and then at the spectator group of sisters assembled, as if summoned by the cloister bells, to watch this episode. Such an event was common and the entire body of the cloister knew that at any time, any day or night, they might be called upon to endure such a sacrifice and learning experience as Sister Angel and inmate Lucy were now sharing.

On the stone panel over the entrance to the school’s central hall was an inscription which, roughly translated from the Latin, said, “Never accuse, for you too are guilty.” The order had many such slogans displayed in many locations. Each Sister’s tiny cell was decorated with similar phrases and they came to learn that the Order’s true mission was to make certain that inmates and members alike never were very far from experiencing any of the daily torments and tests that were administered there.

Mother Bolia motioned to the spectators that the event was now over…for the moment… and Grace came down from the ladder, carried it back to its original position and, after a quick glance over her shoulder at her handiwork, headed off to her other duties. Bolia picked up one of the whips carried by the senior duty sister and preceded to thrash the two girls on the post. She took her time, alternating between the hanging naked bodies and delivering strokes calculated to bring as much suffering as possible with as little effort as she could expend. Lucy and Angel writhed and twisted in their ropes, seeking vainly to find a position that might somehow evade the lash. Bolia circled the post, using a variety of whip strokes and assuring herself that she would leave no flesh untouched. Even with the gags, the girls made a great deal of noise, whimpering, begging, and pleading for the pain to stop. Bolia, concentrating on her aim and impact, muttered an occasional Latin phrase and finally stopped when she was indeed convinced that she had done her small part in helping these sinful humans to see the way of the Lord. The whipping stopped, but the noises from the throats of the tortured girls continued for some minutes afterwards. It was almost as if they were unaware that the thrashing was over because they still felt the dozens of glowing, fiery cuts that decorated their limp bodies. Bolia looked at both suffering figures, considered that they to some degree resembled the crucified saints displayed elsewhere in the castle and walked out of the courtyard.

Lucy wondered if she was actually being spared an even more serious whipping because of Angel’s impromptu presence on the post. She also thought that it was possible that Bolia had found some reason to punish Angel and used the opportunity simply because it was available. Unregulated and undeserved discipline was one of the standard practices of the cloister and Lucy knew that in the cellars at any given time, inmates and sisters lay or hung bound in terribly uncomfortable positions, awaiting their next session of education, punishment and discipline. There were so many minor infractions recorded daily in the Mother Superior’s Book of Offenses that the cloister’s cells, cages and racks were often populated to the extent that makeshift arrangements had to be created to accommodate the offenders. What she didn’t know was that the wheels of politics and religion were turning slowly towards depriving the cloister of one of its newer inmates, Lucy Von Holt.