| 5 |
I was put on my knees, and my head leaned down, so that my face rested upon the floor with my tender backside presented in the air. I could not move my arms even an inch, so tightly were they bound. Caleb, after ensuring I was properly positioned, announced he would be going to dress for dinner.
“I’ll fetch you down when it’s ready,” Chastity said sweetly. “And I’ll be sure to take good care of dear Amity in the meantime.”
“Be sure to behave yourself, Miss Fenn,” he said. I could see only his boots, unable to raise my eyes high enough to meet his gaze. I had no desire to feel the rod again.
“Yes, sir,” I said softly, and watched his boots retreat out of my sight. The stairs creaked as he made his way up them. It was just me and Chastity now.
“We’ll tend to those welts first,” she said, scurrying away toward the kitchen. She returned in a few moments, carrying a pitcher of yellowish oil and something small, gnarled, and pale. As she set the items down near my face, I realized that the small thing was peeled ginger root. I frowned, uncertain as to why she had brought such a thing. But I was swiftly distracted away from it. Chastity knelt behind me, dipped her fingers into the oil, and began to massage it onto my welts. I hissed immediately at the sting, unable to prevent my feet from slightly kicking. She laughed, and dipped her fingers again.
“This will help them heal,” she said. “That way there will be no unbecoming scars and dark marks. Caleb was always ever so careful to oil my welts after he had to administer the rod to me.” She sighed dreamily. “He is an excellent teacher. He has ways of guiding a girl to her darkest needs. Now I know the ways as well.” Her hands massaged over my skin, pain and pleasure mixing. Her touch was intoxicating, and having her so close to all my intimate parts made me blush furiously. She was slow and tender, taking her time until all the skin across my backside and thighs had been thoroughly oiled.
“Now then,” she said. “I’ll soon be making dinner for my husband. But while I’m busy, I’ll still be needing you to reflect upon your sins. Sin has a way of slowly getting inside you, Amity. Once it’s there, it only becomes worse over time.” She reached over and picked up the ginger root. “Have you ever tasted ginger, Amity?”
“Yes, ma’am,” I could feel that my cunt had gone wet again from the ministrations of her hands, and squeezed my legs together in a useless attempt to hide my arousal.
“It’s slightly sweet, but it has a very pleasant bite to it as well,” she said musingly. “One can really only consume it in small doses, otherwise it would become unbearably hot. I have two pieces of peeled ginger root here, Amity. Far too much to eat.”
I gulped nervously. She wasn’t going to force me to eat them, was she? Then her hands began to stroke over me again. Over my backside…between my cheeks…her finger began to tease at the tight hole there and I jumped.
“Now, now, Amity,” she chastised, her finger circling my entrance with slowly increasing pressure. “Once sin is inside you, it will only become worse over time. I want you remembering that as I’m preparing dinner. I want you to think on why it’s so important to confess, and purge your body of such things before it becomes unbearable.”
Her finger pressed inside, a shocking invasion, tight and immediately humiliating. I whimpered and squirmed as she withdrew her finger and pushed it in again. “You’ll be thankful for this when we tend to your later lessons,” she said. “You’ll be thankful that I’m taking my time to prepare you early.” Her finger pressed in an out, stretching my little hole. Every time she went deeper, my cunt grew wetter. I knew it would be dripping soon.
“Don’t think I don’t see the perverted pleasure this brings you,” she said softly. “A woman always knows when another woman is in lust. Don’t worry: I’ll be plugging both your little holes to ensure you can truly meditate upon the sting of sin.”
I moaned, imagining the size of the root in comparison to her finger. I could not possibly take it…and yet I could not beg her to stop. I would be forced to kneel there, plugged and burning, while she went about her business as if my suffering was entirely inconsequential.
“I think you’re ready now,” she said, as her finger withdrew. “We’ll do your little bottom first. You’re so tight, the root will stay inside you easily.”
Instead of her finger, something rougher and larger pressed against me. It took only seconds before the ginger’s juices began to tingle on my skin. I hissed as she pushed it inside me, the roughness and swelling making me whimper in protest. Chastity cooed gently as she did it, urging me through it.
“There now, not so bad yet, is it?” she said. “Just a little stretch, Amity. And feel how nice and tight you are around it?” With the ginger firmly inside me, she began to twist it: slowly back and forth she worked it, dripping oil around it so it turned smoothly. I began to whine as the burn settled in. It was a deep, solid burn, not unlike the feeling of ginger in one’s mouth. But when shoved into one’s most intimate places, the sensation was quickly amplified.
“There now, starting to feel it?” Chastity worked the ginger in and out of me, pumping it in me. I squirmed, beginning to pant. It burned – and it was only growing worse.
“Please,” I whimpered. “Please, ma’am…it burns…please.”
“Good, it’s supposed to burn!” she said sweetly. “It’s going to keep burning for quite a while. Let’s get this just a little deeper now -” She pressed, stretching me, filling me, eliciting more whimpers and desperate “please, ma’ams!” Satisfied, she left the root within me and squeezed my cheeks together, irritating the burn both within and without me. “There you are! Perfect. Now that is going to stay plugging you up until after dinner is done. And one more little plug…” Her finger teased over my dripping cunt, bringing a moan of pleasure out of me at once. “This one will go in much easier, but will feel worse in time.”
She was right: I was so wet the ginger slid inside me easily. But in moments it was burning, more intensely even that it was in my other hole. I began to whimper and whine yet again, unable to stop myself from trying to wiggle away.
“Now don’t lose your position,” Chastity said firmly, as she got to her feet. “You stay just like that with your pretty little bottom in the air, and you think on your sins. Think long and hard about why having yourself all plugged up like this makes you lustful.”
“Yes, ma’am.” My voice was barely above a whisper. I watched her walk away and into the kitchen. I caught glimpses of her every now and then as she went about her work, chopping vegetables and hanging a pot on the fire. All the while I knelt there and whimpered as my insides burned and I dripped my lust onto the floor.
Why indeed did such tortures make me lustful? Why did I find such humiliating pleasure in their punishments? Why was I so fearful, and yet so eager, to know what they would inflict on me next?
The house began to fill with the savory scent of cooking meat and herbs. I would have been hungry, if I had not been so distracted with the sensation accosting my body. It seemed an eternity passed as I knelt there alone, burning and squirming, still feeling the lingering sting of the rod’s ministrations. I was certain I would be feeling that particular sting for a long while yet. My body seemed to have become accustomed to the stretch of the foreign objects inside me, but not to the sting of their juices. I focused on regulating my breathing, slowly in and out, praying to the Devil that my tormentors would return soon and relieve me.
At last, I heard the creak of the stairs. I could not see, still restrained with my face pressed to the floor and my tortured backside in the air, but I knew from the heavy footfalls that it was Caleb returning. Chastity came out of the kitchen, bringing plates and bowls to the dining table and lighting the two tall wax candles there. Caleb came up to me, just behind my turned head. I could feel his eyes slide over my sweating skin.
“What a beauty Chastity has made of you, Amity,” he said. Chastity glanced up from filling their plates at the table, a proud little smile on her face. Caleb wrapped an arm beneath my chest and raised me up from the floor, holding me so that I rested over his knee instead. My backside tingled in anticipation, and the movement made the ginger inside me give a fresh sting. But he did not spank me again, at least not this time. Instead he reached back and gently probed a finger against the root that was almost fully inside me. I whimpered, my insides burning.
“It is the fires of sin,” he murmured. “They will burn inside you until you get them all out, Miss Fenn.”
“Come eat, my love,” Chastity said sweetly. “I’ll finish up with Amity. My appetite is focused on things besides food at the moment, it would seem.”
Caleb eased me back down, leaving me gasping at the lingering sting inside me. He seated himself at the table to a heaped plate of sliced roast with carrots and potatoes, as if having a bound and naked woman in his sitting room was a perfectly normal thing to eat dinner to. Chastity approached me once more. I gulped at the sight of her sweet smile – too sweet, too eager. I began to squirm, tugging uselessly at the ropes that bound me.
“Feeling a bit uncomfortable, Amity?” she said, squatting down beside me. I was torn between cursing at her and begging, so I settled for silence. But my silence, it seemed, was not the right response. Her smile was still frozen on her face, but now the eagerness behind it heightened. “Ah, refusing to speak, I see. Such a stubborn girl you are. So proud, even when reduced to one of the most humiliating positions you could be in.” She shook her head, her laughter sending chills over me. “Well, of course there’s still work to be done. It’s time to flush the fires of sin from you.”
I expected my torment to begin immediately, but instead Chastity rose and went back to the kitchen. I knelt there, nervously licking my lips, watching Caleb smirk at me between bites of his food.
“Is this what you call an example of Godliness?” I hissed at him, the last vestiges of my bravery spilling out. “You’re just as perverted as I!”
Caleb nodded slowly, finishing his bite of roast before he answered. “Ah, now you’re catching on, Miss Fenn. You see, sometimes the safest place to hide is in plain sight.” He gave me a wink, and my mind reeled in confusion. Safest place…to hide? What was he hiding?
Chastity was returning. In her hand was a shining clyster syringe with a wooden handle, and a china pitcher in the other. My stomach sank.
“Flushing out sin is messy work, Amity, dear,” she said happily. “I believe I’d best take you out to the yard.”