This story was written by a very special friend; she asked me to edit it and gave permission for it to be posted here.
Confession, Absolution And Penance
by Victoria Day
Grade Eight, the year that's supposed to make you or break you. Vicky was one determined 13 year old girl and she was ready for anything. Vicky was a few months into first year at Bowers Dominion School and was hoping to get through without embarrassing herself to death. At the start of the year she'd been completely humiliated by her so-called friends who had tricked her into getting caught in the boys' locker room and suffering the consequences: a golden shower with the boys. The coach had ordered her punishment having the guys to provide the special water for Vicky's shower.
But what made her even more humiliated was that she had actually become aroused as they aimed their cocks at her face and pissed all over her, felt sexy and hot when the boys kicked her out of the room and into the school hallway ( right in front of everyone. ) Vicky had been naked with her hands tied behind her back with a jock strap and had to run a gauntlet of jeers.
That was two months ago and Vicky now had her mind set on two things: she was not going to let them humiliate her any more and she was going stay a virgin until she was at least 14. But during her first year at Bowers there were so many rules to follow and punishment was swift and harsh. The Grade 8 students only suffered public humiliation of a minor nature, such as bare bum spankings, being made to stand in the corner of the class with your knickers down and shift up for an hour, or being made to run around the track 10 times naked in the rain. Easy stuff for the youngest girls.
However, after age 14, the age of consent in Canada, the girls were made to sign a blank waiver at the start of the academic year and were informed that sexual humiliation would go beyond mere nudity.
Corporal punishment was the usual: switch, paddle and tawse each used according to the degree of offence committed. But by grade nine the girls came to expect harder blows, more of them and, in extreme cases of misbehaviour, use of the cane. Stocks from the school's history class were regularly used as were more modern tools of discipline such as nipple clamps, ball gags and all manner of 'slave toys'.
But Vicky was not yet 14, still in grade eight and feeling she could avoid most punishments if she tried hard, kept her wits about her and trusted no one. The Shower incident had taught her that.
But the best laid... well, you know. At mid term Vicky discovered that each new girl had to start the second term with a grade in R.I., Religious Instructions but there was no course like that on her schedule. Puzzled, she went to the Dean of students and discovered that Bowers' Dominion School received a substantial annual endowment from a Secret Religious Order ( Bendictus Dominicus Succubus Manus ). This Order wanted all the girls at the school to start off their lives as young women with pure hearts, free of sins of the flesh. For this reason a special R.I. regimen was established early in Grade 8 ( as near to puberty as possible. ) Even if the girls had lost their virginity already, the RI ritual would cleanse them of EVE's fault.
So it was that on a cold January day, Vicky made her way across town to a secret Temple run by the B.D.S.M. order of cloistered monks. From the outside, it looked pretty much like a large garage which you entered through a back alley. Vicky had to check the directions and address twice; yes, this was it. But once inside, Vicky found this was just as terrifying and just as creepy as any church she'd ever been to or tried to avoid. Vicky was a good little girl and she figured she didn't need any Religious Instruction. But today she was in for instruction like she'd never seen before.
Vicky had been told she must cleanse herself of all naughty and sexy sins whether they were things she had done or just had thought about. She must rid herself of the evil demons of the flesh through confession, absolution and penance. The High Priest of the Temple would guide her along the way; she just had to do exactly as she was told and suffer whatever was demanded. 'That way lies purity', her guidance counsellor had told her.
So now Vicky stepped inside the garage-like temple in the rough part of town and what she saw amazed her. There were six rows of benches in the middle of the one-room hall. The benches had no backs and were simple 2x10 boards nailed into a series of wooden crates to form very primitive pews. The benches or pews faced an altar of sorts. It was a long plank of rough hewn cedar resting on two saw horses. On this altar there burned four candles, two at each end. Behind the 'altar', on the very back of the garage, there stood a 17th century pillory ( she knew the date because it was just like the one at the school's History class ( in fact it was the very one. ) It seemed an obscene and sacrilegious mockery of the cross and Vicky turned to leave but was halted by the sound of a deep male voice which came from a tall, ornate enclosure by the side wall; she had not noticed it at first.
" Do not be afraid, little girl. And please do not be offended. " intoned the voice from within the box, which Vicky now recognized as a confessional booth ( stolen, as it happens, from a nearby church.)
Vicky inched toward the booth; she had been told her first task was to make confession. She pulled aside the curtain and entered the left side, knelt on the padded board in front and waited. The confessional window barrier slid open and Vicky could see the outline of an elderly man through the grille. He was in his mid-sixties, she imagined, and he was dressed in a cassock but so in shadow that he was like a phantom figure.
" You must confess to me all your sins of the flesh, my dear" he began. " All the most intimate thoughts that come into your mind when you touch yourself where you're not supposed to. You must confess to me any and all dirty things you have done with boys... or with girls. I especially need to know how you have sinned with other girls." The monk's voice was nearly shrill and he took several breaths before he brought it under control.
" And I need to hear your dirtiest most humiliating thoughts about what you have not yet done but wish you could do. Do not hold back, my dear. We need to clear you of these filthy thoughts and confession is the first of three steps toward your redemption. "
Vicky was an innocent, but not that na´ve. She knew this was no Dominican monk but it was a DOM ( Dirty Old Man )... but, on the other hand, he could be both at the same time. And she did have to pass the R.I. course and this was the only way. So she began her confession and left nothing out.
She started with her sexy thoughts when she was just eight years old and saw her brothers walking around the house in their white jockey shorts, her wanting to pat their packages and take peeks at them when they emerged naked from the shower. She told how, when she was nine, she had spent an entire summer sleeping in the nude with covers 'accidentally' falling off and her door left ajar with the night light illuminating her nude body. She spoke of how she had hoped the men and boys in the house would look at her while she slept. She confessed she was thrilled that summer when she heard the distinct sound of someone ( a brother? her step-father?) jacking off in the hall way right before her door. She told him of her garage initiation where she got naked in front of older boys and was initiated with spankings, until her step-father caught her. She even admitted to tempting her older brother... but she kept the entire story secret because, by this time, Vicky noticed that the monk was not still seated on the other side of the lattice barred window. Instead, he was standing up and had pulled up his cassock to expose his naked body beneath. And his cassock wasn't the only thing being pulled.
The monk was hardly listening now as Vicky ended her tale of sexual desire and started to tell him how she had been recently humiliated in the boys' locker room shower, when the monk suddenly interrupted her.
" Young girl." He gasped, " Yours is one of the most vile tales of lust and desire I have ever heard and it moves me deeply."
Vicky could see that. The monk was leaning against the back of the confessional now facing Vicky through the window. His cock was just a few inches from Vicky's face and it was obvious the old man was going to shoot his wad any second now. But he managed to finish his priestly duties before finishing himself off.
" You must spend an hour at the altar today and make public penance and show you can sacrifice your flesh to regain your purity. But you have sinned so much I cannot hold it in any longer... Open your mouth and stick out your tongue, dear... That's it... come closer to the grille... there... Yes... Oh! Yes... I forgive you!"
And with that, the monk, who must have saved himself for several weeks, ejaculated a semen ablution on the 13 year-old girl's face. Some of the warm, sticky cum shot into her mouth but most dripped down her forehead, nose and cheeks. Vicky licked her lips and started to wipe her face.
"NO! Do not wipe it away, dear." Remonstrated the monk. " it must stay there as a reminder as you do your penance."
" And what is that, father? " asked Vicky.
" You must offer your innocence at the stocks in front of the altar, my dear. As an innocent you must be naked; as a sinner you must cleanse the body through pain. The congregation will help; you have but to do as you are told and suffer all."
And so, Vicky did as the monk had ordered. It was cramped in the booth but she managed to remove all her clothes while still in the confessional booth. She stepped out naked into the 'church' hall.
The pews now were filled with men some wearing monk's robes others, black cloaks. Each monk held in his lap a birch bough switch. Vicky was led trembling to the altar where she knelt and swore to do her penance in silence, or at least without protest.
They brought her to the stocks and she was locked in with her face and hands poking through and facing away from the congregation. The stocks were set a metre or so from the altar which stood about 70 cms high. The cross bar of the stocks was so low the penitent had to arch her back and raise her buttocks to fit. So when Vicky was locked in, her bare bum was sticking over the altar and her eyes, facing the back wall, saw nothing of what was to happen.
They had her for an hour. Each monk stepped up to the altar and prayed for Vicky's purity then swatted her bum with their birch switches. Just two strokes from each monk and they took their time. In all, there were 30 monks and Vicky suffered 60 strokes of the birch. She said not a word and the strokes were, in truth, no worse than the swats she had given herself when, years ago, she had self-spanked in the bushes in High Park. (Vicky had enjoyed the lusty lash of self-discipline from early on. )
Nonetheless, she had never been given 60 strikes of the switch and the blows had a cumulative effect. Her buttocks was red and sore before the 40th blow had landed and each stroke after that was a torment. She suffered without complaint but she did moan and whimper through the last 15 minutes. For one thing, and much to her embarrassment, she found that her bald pussy lips had become swollen and were now quite moist with her sexual juices. She feared the monks at the altar could detect by sight or smell that she was not truly penitent.
But no one said a word to her and at last she was through her ordeal. The last monk to give her his two stokes leaned over and whispered in her ear that she was to relax for a while and she would be released from the stocks just as she was released from her sins. Vicky thanked him and waited in silence.
Vicky remained in the stocks for some time during which she heard a lot of noise behind her. Finally she heard the sound of a key turning in the stocks lock. Then the sound of retreating footsteps, a door being slammed. She called out; silence. Vicky tried to lift the cross bar and found it gave a bit; she slowly worked the ancient bar off her and she was released at last. But when she managed to rise from her bent position and turn around, she found the hall empty, completely empty. The altar had been disassembled, the rows of benches gone, the confessional was no where to be seen. Her clothes too were missing. She would have to make it back to school as best she could. Oh well, at least she had passed the course.
Top of Form
Bottom of Form
This further adventure for Vicky was suggested by a dear friend with whom I have had many a theological conversation and erotic teasing. He knows I play with words and sex toys and love to act out these 'Mirror Master' fantasies suggested by readers. So I, Vicky, took a full hour and 60 strokes of a switch to play this out. The monk's blessing I did not enact but came from memory of a time when I was kneeling naked before an older man giving him a blow job and, at his request, let him ejaculate his load of cum all over my face.