Lucilla clapped her hands again as Lalage started to masturbate. The pee was still coming, Lalage barely able to breathe as she tongued Nest’s open bottom hole, her mouth filling again. Once more she swallowed her mouthful. Nest settled further onto her face, wriggling her bottom. Lalage probed deeper still, mouth wide to Nest’s anus, totally abandoned. Her back arched in ecstasy even as her mouth filled for the third time, and she was coming, her body jerking and squirming on the ground, piddle splashing to all sides, her mouth full to capacity. At the very peak she swallowed, her climax coming together in pure, filthy ecstasy, to the sound of the delighted laughter of Lucilla and Benedicta, and Coralie’s horrified squeaks.
Even before her orgasm had faded, her mouth had been plugged with Nest’s quim. She licked, indifferent to her own feelings as she did her best to give her friend the same exquisite pleasure. Nest moaned in response, and began to wriggle her bottom, squirming her clitoris against Lalage’s lips and tongue, smothering her completely. Unable to breathe, with her mouth full of quim flesh and her nose well up Nest’s sloppy bottom hole, Lalage could only let herself be used, and do her best to help.
Nest started to come, with a little mew of ecstasy, then a long, low moan as a gush of fluid erupted from her sex, full into Lalage’s mouth. Lalage struggled to swallow, only to start to gag as her throat filled with pungent fluid. Nest cried out again, gave one final wiggle and slumped forward, leaving Lalage coughing and struggling for air.
‘Perfect!’ Lucilla declared. ‘What a pair of trollops! More, more, we must have more! Bendy and Butterball, yes, perfect. I want to see you do it in her mouth, Butterball, everything, like Mouse did. Nest, you can lick Bendy’s cunt, to make her good and eager! Lalage, lick me while I watch.’
‘I’d rather it was Coralie licking me,’ Benedicta said with determination. ‘Come on, on your back.’
‘No,’ Lucilla said firmly, even as Coralie began to lie back. ‘I want to watch it done to you, Bendy. You have been a little too haughty, of late, and it will teach you a lesson.’
‘Oh, will it?’ Benedicta answered, and picked up a bottle to put it to her lips.
‘Down you go,’ Lucilla ordered firmly.
Benedicta ignored her, still drinking, until a good half the contents had gone down her throat.
‘Do as you are told!’ Lucilla snapped. ‘Or I’ll have you whipped! There’s birch outside, Bendy, think how that stings.’
‘It’s not me who needs a whipping,’ Benedicta answered sullenly.
‘What…’ Lucilla began, only to squeal in shock as Benedicta launched herself onto her.
Lucilla went down, hissing in outrage as she sprawled on the cobbles. Coralie squeaked in alarm, scrambling away. Nest followed quickly as the two girls rolled on the floor, clutching at each other, Lucilla biting and scratching, and screaming orders. Benedicta took no notice, ignoring Lucilla’s raking nails and snapping teeth as she forced the smaller girl over, onto her front. Fresh outrage sounded in Lucilla’s voice as she came bottom up, and she kicked out viciously, nearly catching Benedicta’s face with her boot. Benedicta’s hold went, for a moment, Lucilla twisting frantically, only to be caught again.
‘Help me, Lalage!’ Benedicta called. ‘Get her dress up while I hold her down!’
‘No!’ Lucilla squealed. ‘No, Lalage, don’t you dare!’
Lalage came forward, uncertain, wanting to do it, but not daring.
‘Help me!’ Benedicta demanded again. ‘Anything…just get her legs!’
‘No!’ Lucilla screamed again. ‘I forbid it! I forbid it!’
‘Think how many times she’s beaten you!’ Benedicta yelled. ‘Think how many times you’ve been beaten for her, and how she loves to watch it!’
Still Lalage hesitated, until the memory of herself in the pillory rose up in her mind, caned hard, forty-eight strokes, with her face filthy with dung. Her reservations fled, she threw herself forward, to grapple Lucilla’s legs. Lucilla screamed, in despair as much as outrage. Benedicta jerked at the hem of the dress, and up it came, Lucilla kicking frantically, but to no avail, as her skirts and petticoats were hauled high. Trim white buttocks came on show, along with a puff of hair as Lucilla bucked in desperation. Lalage laughed at the sight and planted a firm smack on the tight little bottom, drawing a scream of yet deeper outrage from Lucilla.
‘A spanking, yes, perfect,’ Benedicta gasped, ‘on her bare bottom, treated like the little brat she is.’
‘No!’ Lucilla screamed. ‘Not that! I am a Tesserette! No, you can not…you can not!’
Her voice had risen to a high pitched screech, which broke to pain as Benedicta planted a second, harder smack. The two girls set to work, to the sound of Lucilla’s furious protests and threats, all of which were ignored as the pale little bottom cheeks bounced and quivered to the smacks. Quickly Lucilla had begun to pink up, then redden, and as the colour of her bottom changed, so did her attitude, from fury, through despair, to resignation. At last she hung limp to the smacks, and Lalage was able to let go of her legs and concentrate on the now rosy bottom. They lifted Lucilla by the waist, raising and spreading her buttocks, so that her quim showed, wet and puffy with arousal, drawing fresh laughter from the girls. Grabbing Lucilla’s thigh, Benedicta spread her yet wider, showing off the pink button of her anus. Lucilla moaned, then spoke.
‘Have me then, you vicious little witches. Use me…use me well…’
Lalage shared a grin with Benedicta. Again they set to work spanking, taking turns to apply hard swats across the plumpest part of Lucilla’s cheeks, and over her sex. In no time Lucilla’s pants had turned to moans. Then her slim, elegant fingers were reaching back to rub in the wet mush of her quim, and Lucilla was masturbating, as wanton under punishment as any of them, and as undignified. Lalage laughed, spanking harder as Lucilla’s anus tightened in the onset of orgasm, only to stop abruptly at the sound of a dull thud from outside the tower.
The girls froze, Benedicta’s hand poised over Lucilla’s rump as they exchanged a worried glance. Coralie and Nest both began to back away from the door. Only Lucilla seemed not to have noticed, still rubbing at her sex.
‘Spank me then!’ she demanded loudly. ‘Can’t you see I’m coming? Spank me!’
A bulge appeared in the robe over the doorway. Lalage swallowed hard. The bulge moved, and the great, horned head of Baudus appeared. Lalage felt a surge of relief, but scrabbled for Lucilla’s dress, to cover the open, ready quim. Baudus pushed forward into the room, his head poking through the neck of Corisande’s robe, so that he appeared to be wearing it. Lucilla looked round, her voice unsteady in her passion.
‘Why cover me? I want to…Oh my! Oh no!’
Baudus was coming towards her, his nose wrinkling to her scent. She gave a low, despairing sob, but stayed still, her haunches lifted high, her red bottom an open invitation to be mounted, her fingers still working on her sex. She moaned again, and hid her face in her upturned skirts. Lalage and Benedicta backed quickly away as Baudus approached.
‘He…he’s going to!’ Benedicta managed, as Baudus pushed his nose between Lucilla’s thighs, to sniff quim, then lick, his great, thick tongue pushing out to lap up the juice and probe at the wet hole.
‘Oh, my Lord!’ Lalage managed as the red tip of Baudus’ cock began to emerge from the prepuce.
It grew quickly, to the big, red erection she and Lucilla had fantasised over so often. Now it was there in the flesh, and ready for Lucilla’s quim. So was she, moaning in ecstasy as he licked at her sex, and wriggling her bottom in lewd encouragement. Lalage moved further back, to join Nest and Coralie where they were flattened against the tower wall in silent horror.
It happened. Baudus made an odd bleating noise as his face left Lucilla’s quim, and an instant later he was up on her back. Her response was a broken sob, and to push up her bottom for entry. Lalage watched, mouth agape, as the big red cock probed for the opening to Lucilla’s quim, found it, and pushed in, sliding deep with one
easy movement. He began to fuck her.
Lucilla took it gasping and sobbing, shaking her head in utter despair, yet all the while rubbing at her quim. She came, quickly, with a long cry of mingled rapture and anguish, but even as it died away, she stayed down, her bottom lifted obligingly as Baudus humped away on top of her.
Lalage could see everything, Lucilla’s bare bottom appearing between the pushes, her red cheeks high and wide, her anus an open, damp hole, the lips of her quim spread open to the big red cock shaft. With a rush of shame she found her fingers going to her own quim, to masturbate as she watched Lucilla fucked by the monstrous beast, in whose eyes she was sure she could see a red flicker.
Baudus was getting faster, really ramming his cock in and out of Lucilla’s cunt, and bleating as he fucked. She was grunting again too, each time the big cock pushed home in her body, and scrabbling at the cobbles with her fingers. Lalage rubbed harder, eager to come before it was over. Nest gave a gasp of shock as she realised what Lalage was doing, then a sigh as she too gave in to her feelings. Benedicta was masturbating too, openly, her eyes fixed to the junction of cock and cunt.
Lalage came forward, onto her knees, her thighs spread wide as she rubbed herself, and wondered if she dared more. Baudus was pumping with desperate energy, surely about to come. Lucilla was screaming, and clutching in desperation at the cobbles, her whole body shaking to the hard thrusts of her fucking. Then she too was masturbating again, finding her clitoris an instant before a great gout of sperm erupted from around the cock in her hole, and Baudus had come in her.
Even as the big cock pulled slowly from Lucilla’s hole, Lalage was shuffling forward. Still rubbing at herself, she went down, her mouth opening, to bury her face in Lucilla’s sopping quim. She licked up the sperm and juice, filling her mouth with musky, salty fluid as her masturbation grew more urgent still. Her head was jammed between Lucilla’s messy rear end and Baudus’ belly, and she was going to come, at any moment, revelling in her own depravity.
Baudus’ cock nudged her cheek, still hard. A last spark of horror at her own actions burst in her head, and then she had taken him in her mouth. She was rubbing frantically at her sex as the taste of goat and Lucilla’s cunt cream filled her mouth along with the meaty cock shaft. Baudus pushed, by instinct, jamming his erection into Lalage’s throat. She was coming, sucking and mouthing on the big cock, her muscles in urgent contraction, lost to everything but the filthy act she was perpetrating, the act for which she had longed, and at the very peak of her pleasure, wishing it was her who had been mounted by Baudus, mounted and deflowered.
Seven
Lalage woke to the morning of Supplication with an aching head and a sour, salty taste in her mouth. She was in bed with Lucilla, also Nest, both peacefully asleep. Outside, it was still dark, but the clamour bell was ringing, sending jolts of pain through her skull. As her memory of the events of the previous evening began to return, she groaned.
Sex with Baudus had been the culmination of their little drunken orgy. Once she had come down from her high, even Lucilla had been shocked by what she had done. So had Lalage, wracked with guilt and shame, but no more so than the three others, none of whom had participated, but all of whom had watched, and two of whom had masturbated as it happened.
With Baudus successfully lured from the tower room back to his paddock, they had taken an oath between the five of them never to reveal what had happened, condemning their souls to the Beast if they did. Lalage had been far from certain that Lucilla and herself had not already condemned their souls, with the memory of the red gleam in the goat’s eye constantly coming back to her. Common sense said it had been no more than the reflection of the lantern flame. In the orange-lit dimness of the tower room, with the smells of goat and girl still strong in the air, common sense had held little power.
They had cleaned up as best they could, and finished the wine, all five drinking deeply in an effort to clear their minds of what they had seen, and done. Finally, soon after the bells of the nunnery had tolled midnight, they had started back, returning to the dormitory without incident. Novice Corisande lay where they had left her, bound and gagged, and she had even managed to hold her bladder. Lalage’s last clear memory was of Lucilla threatening to take an accusation of heresy straight to her uncle if Corisande breathed a word.
Beside her, Nest groaned and sat up. They exchanged a look of sympathy and swung their legs from the bed at the same time. Noises could be heard from the dormitory, and as Lalage pushed open the door, she found all three girls up. Coralie looked away, unable to meet her eye. Benedicta smiled and winked. Corisande gave her a sullen pout.
Lalage ignored all three and went to squat down on the chamber pot. Her stomach felt a little better after evacuating herself, but not her head, and she went to the window to breathe in fresh air as Nest took her turn on the pot. Most of St Quay was in darkness, with just a few windows outlined in yellow while, in the sky, stars were fading to the first pale flush of dawn.
‘Tonight,’ Benedicta sighed, ‘we will be Novices. Clothes, honey or meat in our gruel.’
‘And the whips and canes of the Salvatoras to keep you on your toes,’ Corisande added spitefully. ‘It is not an easy path you will be taking, Benedicta.’
Benedicta merely shrugged, and moved for the door as Nest lifted the heavy chamberpot. Lalage followed, the others coming behind, to leave Lucilla to her slumbers. Other Supplicants joined them as they made for the ablution room, all holding silent, but exchanging the complex looks and subtle signs every one now knew. Sister Verena herself was overseeing ablutions, quirt in hand. She gave Lalage a sneer and a flick of the vicious little whip to one thigh as they passed.
As she washed, Lalage began to worry again, thinking of how often the nuns had referred to her as a harlot and slut. It certainly implied that she was to be singled out in some way, if only to take her place as Novice on the least pleasant tasks.
Clean, their naked, wet skin glistening in the lamp light, the girls were formed into a line and marched to chapel between the Sisters and Novices responsible. Elder Sister Aspasia was in the cloister, and took her place at the head of the procession, leading them across the close and to chapel.
Service passed in a dream for Lalage. A long sermon was given by the Prioress, on modesty, the virtue to which Novices became entitled, but little of it sank in. Instead, Lalage spent her time staring at the tiles of the floor and trying not to fidget as her imagination burned with apprehensive images. Prayers and responses came automatically, and it seemed only moments before the service was over, yet as they trooped outside she found the sky bright with dawn light.
The chapel close was as crowded as ever, but more orderly, while the row of pillories stood empty for once. A handful of figures were seated, the Mothers, with the purple-robed figure of the Quaestor among them, to the right of the Prioress, also Father Glauter. The Elder Sisters stood behind, the few Scholars among them, with the Sisters and Novices in a great open crescent, save for those hustling the Supplicants into place before the Elders. Even the Servitors were present, standing respectfully at the edges of the close.
Lalage took her place in the line of naked, shivering girls, between Benedicta and Nest. Silence fell, punctuated only by a last smack of leather on flesh as Sanchia was put into place at the end of the line. Blessed Mother Berengaria Aesu stood, immaculate in her robe of pure white, her expression stern as she began to speak.
‘My children, Supplicants to the Holy Order of our Lady of St Quay, let your hearts be filled with humility and joy, for today you stand before us, your Elders, and before the Lord, that you may be accepted into our Order, and those worthy become the brides of the Lord. There is no higher purpose for womankind as that which you seek, no higher honour, no greater gladness. Kneel before your Lord.’
Lalage went down, sinking to her knees in the wet grass and making the Symbol across her chest as she hung her head. The Prioress continued to speak, stressing the duties and responsib
ilities associated with being Novices, until her voice had become a meaningless drone to Lalage. Finally, she stopped, and Elder Sister Aspasia stepped forward to speak in turn.
‘Girls, as the Blessed Mother has told us, today you leave behind the simple pleasures you have known as Supplicants, and take on the responsibilities of your new lives. While you have played in the sun, we have not been idle, the merits of each of you has been considered. Yet it is today on which your worth is ultimately judged, and your place found. In order to achieve this, certain tests must be carried out.’
She paused to pull a scroll from her robes and unroll it, glancing down with a look of disapproval on her face before she continued.
‘Certain among you have proved your worth, five in all, our Pious Supplicants. These need not be tested, but each will now receive a dozen cuts of the cane to correct any possibility of pride. Two are of exceptional merit, and will receive two dozen strokes. Stand forth when I call your names. Armigel…Grainne…our two most worthy Supplicants. Coralie…Galiena…Troth. Move forward, girls, to take your places in the pillories.’
The five girls rose and stepped forward, their faces twitching between pleasure and apprehension as they came towards the pillory, to place their necks and wrists into the half-circles of sweat darkened wood. Five bare bottoms went up, five sets of feet were planted the regulation distance apart, and five furry quims came on view.
Black-robed Salvatoras stepped in from the sides, Sister Dorcas and Sister Etta. Both bore canes, and both wore expressions of stony detachment as they moved behind the five girls. The pillory tops were closed, trapping the girls in place. Lalage swallowed, focusing on Coralie’s fat pink bottom as Sister Etta swung the cane up, and remembering how her friend had looked with Father Glauter’s sperm dribbling from her anus. A glance to the side showed the Father himself, watching with an expression of smug superiority.
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