"Alright!" she cried out. "Alright! Yes! Yes! Yes!"
Her buttocks went higher and the soft edges of her engorged cunt shone in the flickering light of the candles.
There was a momentary pause, then…
Thwack! Thwack! Thwack! Thwack!
Each one landed heavily across her upturned buttocks. They rained down on her but the more she had the more she screamed. Finally, the flickering of the candles dimmed as her eyes saw less and less, the sound of the cane became more distant and even her screams seemed far away. In the end, all went dark and silent. Occasionally she sensed the pain of the writhing cane but it did not seem part of her experience any more, it seemed part of another world, a world of unbelievable pain.
When Maria awoke she was lying on her back on a cold wooden trestle. She rolled onto her side and her bottom hurt terribly. She looked across the small room, it was some sort of antechapel. Around the walls, heavy, green curtains hung from brass curtain rails and her clothes were piled up on the floor. She looked down at herself, her bra was still hanging loose and her panties were twisted up around her knees, her wrists were red and her hands were still swollen. She started to sit up and winced as she felt her weight on her bottom. She went over to her clothes and started to pick amongst them absently. Then she turned as she heard someone draw back one of the green curtains.
It was Father Thomas!
"Come back this evening child, after you finish work, we will continue then. You have made a good start, you have been introduced to the cane and I am pleased with you. You may yet be saved but you will have to suffer much more. And remember, I will be watching you from now on, and don't forget your new master, the cane; it will be him and his friends who will be testing you and leading you to forgiveness. If you go astray again it will be them to whom you answer. This evening then, as soon as you finish work."
"Yes Father."
"Good."
Ten minutes later she ran from the church, sweating and breathing heavily. She had managed to dress herself fairly well but still looked dishevelled and distressed. She could not repair her bra and had thrown it in a dustbin together with her dirty panties. As she had tossed her underclothes into the overfilled bin she noticed a man looking at her. He looked like a tramp, he had a dirty red beard, his hair was tangled and matted and he wore a long brown overcoat. He watched her inquisitively and it made her feel disgusted and ashamed to think he had seen her dirty panties and torn bra, so she ran behind a wall near some derelict buildings and, gasping for breath, threw herself down amongst some rubble. When she realised that the man was not following her she relaxed. She sank down against the wall and squatted with her hands clasped together between her knees. The cool air blew up her tight skirt and she felt it fanning her naked cunt.
She stared down at a green, cider bottle that was lying on the ground in front of her. She had kicked it as she had hurried behind the wall and it was still rocking back and forth on the litter strewn ground. It tinkled rhythmically against a squashed can which lay alongside it; it reminded her of the swishing of the cane and the savage punishment she had just endured. She reached her hands down between her legs and ran them up the underneath of her thighs. She jerked back as she touched the swollen weals that laced her buttocks.
She rubbed the raised stripes gently and the stinging gradually faded. She kept rubbing them and sank into thinking about her punishment and the more she thought about it the more she realised that it was her only hope of salvation.
As she rubbed her bottom she found her fingers straying to her anus. She felt its edges and squatted down more as she felt its tingling pleasure at the touch of her fingertips. Almost without thinking she pressed the tip of her forefinger inside. The firm circular muscle gave way and her finger sank in easily. She squatted down more as it entered and she drew it inside.
The palm of her hand pressed against her fleshy cunt as her finger worked around the inside edges of her anus. She looked down between her legs and watched the flat of her hand massaging the soft flesh between her legs. Her finger went deeper and she gasped as it drove in up to the knuckle. She drew it back then pushed it in again even more deeply. As it drew back her muscles contracted and held it tight, making it throb under the pressure. As she pushed it back in her muscles relaxed to let it enter and sucked it up eagerly. She dropped her head and raised and lowered her squatting buttocks rhythmically. Her hair fell down across her face and she stared through its tangled strands at the green bottle.
She moved her finger up and down faster. She started panting as her anus pulsated around her finger, gripping it tightly then relaxing and sucking it in again. She stretched her finger as much as she could and plunged it in as deep as it would go, but it was not enough. Her body craved more penetration than her finger could provide and she reached forward with her other hand and grabbed the bottle. She turned it upright and planted it firmly on the ground then, lifting herself higher, she moved the bottle back between her legs, feeling its smooth edges as they glanced the insides of her thighs.
She drew her finger out and felt the dissipated ring of her anus throbbing for more. She placed the neck of the bottle directly beneath her demanding anus, lifted herself some more, then slowly dropped down until the ring of her hot anus touched the round top of the neck of the green bottle. She pushed herself down onto it, it went in smoothly and she gasped as she felt its coldness inside her.
She pressed down more and it slid in eagerly – first as far as her finger then, more satisfyingly, deeper. She opened her legs wide and sat down on it, and as it sank in, her anus opened to accommodate the widening neck. She took as much as it could offer and, as it plunged deeply inside, her eyes widened with the cold delight of its smooth penetration.
She plunged her hands between her legs and pulled her outer labia wide apart. Her clitoris hung down, throbbing and hot, and she tugged at it and massaged it. She thought of her punishment, of the cane and the pain that it had inflicted on her, of the red weals across her bottom, of her bestial screams and the feelings of humiliation.
Then she felt the pleasure of the bottle as she dropped even further onto it, she felt so degraded and delighted, and she sensed a feeling she had never had before, she was spinning relentlessly from dirtiness to purity and back again. As she bore down on the bottle she realised that her self-defilement would lead her back to punishment and, when she was punished, that would help cleanse her, but after her punishment she could defile herself again and once more enjoy its painful fruits.
It was an endless cycle from which she now knew she did not want to escape! The realisation rushed through her and she felt a deep delight as her anus gripped the neck of the bottle and her cunt dilated and ran with the moisture of her joy.
She plunged herself wildly onto the bottle and as she looked up she saw the tramp watching her, he had his hands deep inside his long coat and was moving them slowly at his groin. For a moment she was afraid, then, staring at him, she opened her legs wider and pulled at her clitoris until, still with the green bottle deeply inside her anus, she collapsed in a gasping orgasm of delight and humiliation.
An hour later she arrived at the agency. Lesley, her boss, was in her small office talking to a man, so Maria had to wait. The man had his back to Maria so she could not see his face but he had a shock of golden hair like the man who had beaten her as she had lain across the refrigerator earlier. The sight of the hair and the thought of her beating made her shiver.