Have you examined your self or are you an enemy of god?

Probably blasphemous, heretical alteration of verse James 4:4

 

You may have faith your god is the one true god. I have proof you are wrong.

Quod erat demonstrantum

 

 

Since that fateful day at sea, I have been trapped in darkness. No light fell into my eyes since I and the three priestesses who were to accompany me home from the monastery fell into captivity again. Whereas before the henchmen of Neposte had been our jailers, now someone else held our chains in his hand. The first thing that happened was that our heads disappeared under a kind of tight-fitting leather hood that was pulled tight with cords. And we were trapped in darkness. Sometimes I could see light through the seams, moments I had learned to cherish. Just like the moments when I could hear a voice. By now I was willing to do anything just to hear a voice. Even if I was not allowed to do so myself.

 

As the daughter of a viceroy, my mother insisted that I spend the time before my marriage in the monastery, learning decency and manners appropriate to my station, just as she had. I never thought my mother could be so heartless. The punishments in the convent were extremely harsh and painful. No one was exempt. Even the daughter of a viceroy was not exempt, and even my rank of an honorary bishop did not help me to escape the usual punishments there.

 

My arrival at the monastery remains unforgettable for me. And I still remember vividly the last chastisement shortly before my father sent for me a year later for my wedding.

 

"Venerable Mother Superior," the chaperone my father had given me for the journey elaborated, "I come on behalf of Victinus de Vortano. He is sending you his first-born daughter, Eunice, for her strict education."

"So he wrote me in a letter," said the Superior. "How old are you, Eunice?"

"Seventeen years, most venerable Mother," I replied, intimidated. "And only now does your education occur to Father?" asked the Mother Superior.

I blushed slightly and looked down at the floor, but she noticed from the uneasy movement of the chaperone next to her how uncomfortable this question made her too.

"He wants to make sure his daughter... doesn't get into trouble... until her wedding," my chaperone said.

"So Viceroy de Vortano is concerned about her innocence?"

The chaperone cleared her throat. "About her innocence... and about her docility. She has..."

"Surely the young lady can tell me that herself," said the matron, rising. She smoothed out her severe, long habit and stepped around her desk toward us.

"Well, Eunice?"

"I have incurred my father's displeasure," I replied, cautiously hesitant.

The matron really pressed all the embarrassing details out of me in what followed.

 

The following year was a time of privation for me, full of strict discipline and physical punishment for the slightest deviation. The novices in my room fared no better. Even the self-appointed guardian of virtue among us over the convent rules, novice Bodeca, did not escape her chastisements.

All the novices were young girls and women and we all tried to bring a little bit of joy into our harsh daily lives. Although it was strictly forbidden, we novices touched each other in our beds in the forbidden places and enjoyed the tiny moments of joy we gave ourselves.

Until Bodeca betrayed me to the Mother Punire Mogirna. And I had to face an painful punishment. All four of us had to appear before the Mother Punire.

 

"You are the worst of all four, Novice Eunice," the Mother Punire opened in a harsh voice.

"Sin runs deep in you, and it could have ended badly had you not found your way here. But consider yourself fortunate, for you will finally find the education you so desperately need."

"Yes, Mother Punire," I pressed out. What else could I say? The anticipation of the blows was almost worse than the pain itself. But I was put on the rack a little longer.

 

"Novice Bodeca," said the Mother Punire. "This is the first time Movice Eunice has felt the cane. Surely you feel sorry for her, perhaps you also think that in this case you should be merciful to her. And even if you have not broken any rules, you have not behaved entirely in an exemplary manner either. If you wish, you may give a sign or say 'stop' at any time. And the remaining blows that should strike Eunice will instead fall to you. Do you understand?"

 

"Not quite, Mother Punire. After how many blows do I have to say stop?"

"Whenever you see fit."

"Yes, Mother Punire Mogirna."

 

The Mother Punire turned back to me. Full of fear, I swallowed and tried to prepare myself for the pain. I held onto the tabletop and closed my eyes in anticipation of the first blow.

Mother Mogirna raised the cane and let it whip down. The blow glowed like fire and at the same time cut my tender skin like ice. Letting out a scream, I jerked and reared back as the pain spread furiously through my body. Tears welled up in my eyes. Mother Mogirna paused, probably to give me time to struggle for breath. Then the strict sister struck again. The second blow struck just below the first, and again I reared up. Tears fell on the wood of the tabletop under my face. I could still feel the welt of the first blow like a fiery line on my poor bottom, and now a second, glaring trace of pain was added. Sparks of pain danced before my eyes.

 

The Mother Punire lashed out another time and mercilessly slapped my defenselessly presented sore bottom. Again I had to cry out loud, and jerked my hands back to cover my aching flesh. Mother Mogirna waited until I had caught myself and shamefully resumed the punishment position.

 

"Hold her down," the Mother Punire ordered my fellow novices. Tirica and Medila approached the table, each grabbing one of my arms to hold me on the tabletop.

Then that terrible hiss sounded again, followed by the biting pain. It was almost more than I could bear. I tried to rebel against the force holding me down and failed miserably, my legs kicking and twitching as I choked down another cry of pain.

 

"Novice Bodeca?" asked Mother Mogirna, giving the other novice a chance to speak up. But there was only silence.

 

The next blow hit me again a little lower, where the buttocks merged into the thighs in a crease. My tears streamed down my cheeks, sobbing pathetically and crying out of sorrow and humiliation at the same time. Gradually, all these pains combined into a feeling of rage that began to blaze ever more strongly within me. The wailing from me were only incomprehensible sounds. But still Bodeca said nothing, I could only imagine that she silently watched my chastisement.

 

Mother Mogirna took her time for the last stroke. She waited until I could breathe again. She placed the cane on her outstretched bottom, which was already covered with swollen red lines.

 

"Repent of your sins, Novice Eunice, and find the right path."

 

The cane struck me one last time. Completely surrendering to the pain, I wept bitterly. Then it was over. Breathing heavily, everything inside me burned, but especially my poor chastised bottom. Swaying, I straightened up and put my clothes back in order.

 

"Now go and find virtue," Mother Mogirna spoke. "You three are exempt from evening prayer. You will have no meal, but will spend the evening in silent contemplation. Tomorrow your deeds shall be forgiven and forgotten. You too, Novice Bodeca, go now." Tirica and Medila curtsied and said a formula of thanks, and somewhat awkwardly I did the same. I could hardly think straight. Nevertheless, I followed the other novices out into the hallway.

 

Outside, Tirica gave Bodeca an angry look.

 

"You might as well have been brave enough to spare Eunice some of her punishment."

 

"I would have liked to," Bodeca said with a stare that was motionless. "However, I am firmly convinced that she deserved every single blow. And I would never come between a repentant culprit and her punishment." With that, she turned away and walked off in another direction. "Rotten traitor," Tirica grumbled.

 

 

 

A day later I left the monastery in a hurry as a bishop with three priestesses, consecrated to Japidol, the goddess of beauty and dance, at my father's request. To attend my wedding. Bodeca was filled with mild panic when she realized that I now held her fate in my hands.

 

Only a day later, we were captured by several paladins of Nepote, were carried away on a ship and were to be taken to Nagronde.

 

And since the day the ship was captured by someone unknown, my world was shrouded in darkness and silence. And I experienced true tenderness for the first time in my life.

 

I did not know what happened to my former three roommates and now priestesses, but I myself was not allowed to do anything myself. My physical needs like eating and drinking, my personal hygiene, dressing and when I felt the call of nature and urgently needed to pick flowers, all that was taken care of by gentle hands. Almost never a word was spoken to me, but if it was, I clung to the sound like a drowning woman.

The still aching welts from my punishment at the hands of Mother Punire were treated with soothing, cooling lotion. Rarely in my life have I been so grateful to have someone take care of me.

My body was washed and cared for, and although I could see or hear almost nothing, I felt strangely cared for despite my bonds that prevented any resistance. Perhaps that is why I felt so comfortable, without being able to have the slightest influence on anything, I gave myself completely to the last sense that remained to me and concentrated completely on the beautiful feeling of the touches that caressed my defenseless body.

 

Already on the second day I learned to love the voice but especially the person behind it.

 

"Do you want to feel good, little Eunice? Every time I touch your body I feel the desire growing inside you."

It was embarrassing for me and I hoped no one would notice how much I enjoyed the attention. Here I had learned it made a difference if I was caressing myself or someone else. That it was a woman, maybe even several women, moreover unknown to me, made a previously completely foreign to me attraction of the wicked and sinful. Everything that should be driven out of me in the monastery. Inwardly, I felt torn, torn between my secret desire and the fear of sin that was beaten into me.

Yet the hands and fingers that slid over my bound body created this gentle tugging inside me. A call I could not resist, would not refuse. I couldn't, no I didn't want to prevent the feeling of well-being from developing into an almost inaudible moan.

 

"I accept that as a Yes, little Eunice."

 

My entire pubic area melts. Before I know what happens to me, a small gush of warmth spurts from my young womanhood, and I have no doubt that the wetness will be visible to her eyes. Inside I was trembling with fear.

 

"Excellent, little Eunice. You have taken the first step and I will help you the rest of the way. Don't be afraid, here we don't deny our needs as sin. Only deluded fools do that."

 

Time slows down. My breathing softens, I join in the rhythm of the lullaby she plays with my body. I wonder if the bones that make up my skull have been mismatched all my life and are only being put into the right shape by her adept fingers that seem to know me so well, as if they are and always have been a missing part of me that I have only now discovered.

 

"You are perfect."

 

I surrender to the tide of the savory cascade that rushes up and down my spine, the quickening pulse of arousal in my abdomen that rises to the brink of explosion.

I feel right. I feel safe. And I feel cared for.

 

"You may speak."

 

The gratitude I felt at that moment could not be put into words. Not only was I not punished for my sinful lustful urges, no I was even rewarded.

 

"Obey and enjoy your pleasure, little Eunice."

 

Obediently, I nodded my head. No thought of resistance was in me as she led me to some sort of platform, lifting me up with ease and placing me on the edge. Her strength had to be significant. The thought made me shiver inside and the warmth inside me spread further.

With a gentle hand, I was pushed backward onto the soft pad. The smooth feel of the fabric reminded me of precious silk. My arms were tied at the wrists next to my head. My feeling of defenselessness was strangely interspersed with trust. The slight coolness teasingly hardened the buds of my breasts into little gems. Or was it my bondage?

The soft lips that gently enclosed my upraised, hard rosebuds made me inhale deeply. But the tongue kindled such a fire in me that I groaned throatily. Regretfully I noticed how she changed her position. Her hands stroked my thighs. I was so hungry for touch, for satisfaction, that it almost could not go fast enough for me.

She grabbed the ankles of my legs and put them over my shoulders, so that they were clearly spread and the sensitive center between them lay open, exposed to every gaze. Full of shame, I wanted to close my legs as more restraints nipped any further attempt in the bud. Some hand movements meant to me that the shackles were checked and found to be good. Only then did she stroke my tingling skin with her fingertips, tracing invisible lines along the insides of my thighs, then over my pubic bone and again over my belly, finally moving back to my heated center. She gingerly stroked very close to the outside of my feminine lips. The touch set off another hot fire inside me, under which I writhed and moaned. The moisture between my thighs had gone from a trickle to a stream. But the liquid did not cool me; rather, it fueled the volcano inside me.

 

"The art," she said softly, "lies in arousing a desire... so strong that it is almost unbearable."

 

She succeeded perfectly. My thighs were twitching by now. I was undeniably wet and ready, wanting nothing more than to finally be released. But she clearly enjoyed putting me on the rack a little longer.

She lowered her head and let her long and skillful tongue slip out. Tenderly she kissed my thighs, then spread little kisses just above my pearl, which normally lay protected and hidden. But now by the spreading and bondage proudly rose and began to claim its rights.

My moan had to echo through the room and I was sure the servants would be able to hear it. But I knew no shame anymore, only blazing desire as I awaited the hot kisses from my captor.

Gently and almost chastely kissed the merciless my greedy column.

 

"Please," I begged, moaning with desire. I almost melted away in excitement. "Please, High Mistress!"

 

But she did not soften and knew no mercy.

 

"We increase little by little," she said softly. "And play with expectations."

 

The tip of her tongue slipped into the abysmal grotto of my sex, tasting me for an endless moment, then withdrawing again. Again she began to cover my thighs and outer labia with kisses. I was trembling in delight. I would have loved to grab the head and press it firmly between my thighs. But the restraints held me helplessly in place and so I just gave myself completely to her demanding tongue.

Then, suddenly, the merciless mistress was back in the center of sinful lust. The tip of her tongue slid through the cleft of sensitive, aroused flesh. The warm, caressing touch was accompanied by light sucking. Glowing lightning exploded in my body. Involuntarily, I spread my legs even wider. Tried to prepare her an even better access.

With slow movements she now licked over my labia. Her hands embraced my tense buttocks, while her tongue discovered all my most secret places. Only my clitoris she spared yet. The hot throbbing of my pleasure pearl, which was longing so much for touch, almost drove me crazy. I squirmed, moaning deeply under the deliberate strokes of her tongue.

 

"To ignite the lust, all imaginable tools can be exploited," she explained calmly. She now took one hand and pushed her finger deep into my wet grotto. She curved it, hitting just the right spots, and I moaned loudly.

 

My torturer let her tongue slide along between my feminine lips while she kept poking her finger into the depths of my womanhood, stimulating me gently and violently at the same time. I struggled to breathe. Never before had someone brought me like this by all the rules of art around the mind. I could already feel the excitement building up into a huge mountain, my lust growing inexorably and the climax of the crash approaching.

 

She paused for a small moment. An endlessly long moment.

 

"Then it's time for the ultimate seduction," she said. Then she enclosed my hot clit with her lips and sucked lightly on it. I thought I saw stars for a moment. I was so irritated, so sensitive, that I felt even the slightest stimulation with unstoppable intensity.

 

"Uhhhh!", I moaned out my excitement.

 

If the High Mistress had tortured me before by not giving me the touches I craved so much, now it was the opposite: I could hardly bear the ferocity of her caresses, but she did not stop. Did not give me a break. Her tongue darted out, slid over my pulsating pearl and licked it defiantly.

I reared up. My heart was racing, I was dizzy with desire. My legs over my shoulders trembled. With my hands I grasped the soft pillow and clenched them into fists.

Mercilessly, the tongue now performed a fiery dance on my clit. At the same time, she played with me, repeatedly thrusting her finger into my cleft and curving it just where I needed it.

 

"I'm... cumming...!", I groaned out. My fingernails buried in the pillow that I still held tightly while my whole body shook wildly.

 

The High Mistress sucked and licked me with merciless finesse, pampering and stimulating my pearl. With small circles she played around the point of my highest lust. Begging, I pressed my pelvis towards her tongue, emitting small cries. Then she once again sucked hard and brutally on my clitoris. And the whole universe erupted around me.

A firework of colors exploded in front of my inner eye. I screamed out my lust and sin. The passion that burst out of me overwhelmed me and took control. My body trembled and shook, the absolute ecstasy swept away every thought. I dissolved and was only sensation, only intense sensing.

 

Finally my cries became a lustful whimper, then a fulfilled sigh.

 

The High Mistress gave me a small, final kiss that made me shudder pleasantly.

She loosened my bonds and when she loosened the lacing on my hood I vibrated with curiosity.

And her smile was the most wonderful sight of my whole life so far.

 

"I think you are ready for me to begin your training, little Eunice."

 

My heart was pounding so grateful to get my place in life from her.

 

"But before that, we should talk about the three traitors you know as your priestesses. I've heard amazing stories about them."