"Get some cords, my ugly little servant, get some cords and some tape. We have someone to punish."
Caleb looked at Maria then back to Father Thomas, and licked his lips.
"Yes, pretty isn't she? Lock the door as well, we don't want to be disturbed do we?"
Caleb nodded then turned suddenly and scuttled off into the church. Father Thomas bent towards Maria and she shrunk back.
"Afraid? Of course you are, and with some reason. You have been an evil little girl! Evil! Evil! Evil! An evil little bitch! Your sins are going to be difficult to do away with, but, with effort, I think we can manage to cure you."
Caleb came back, trailing several red cords behind him.
"The tape?"
Caleb put his stumpy arm into his robe and drew out a large reel of heavy silver tape. He held it up and laughed throatily.
"Out bitch!" shouted Father Thomas.
Maria pressed herself hard against the cold stone wall unable to move with terror and shock.
"Out, you fucking, sinful bitch!"
Father Thomas leant towards her and reached out to grab her shoulder. She drew back, gasping and terrified. He took hold of her shirt and pulled at it but she braced her feet against the wooden kneeling platform and squeezed herself hard against the wall. He pulled again and the shirt tore slightly. Maria winced. She could not believe what was happening.
"Get her out Caleb."
Caleb sprang forward.
Maria saw that he was very ugly: his eyes were large and hooded by dark, drooping lids, the skin of his face was rough with patches of unshaved stubble that erupted amongst sores on his cheeks and chin, and his teeth were yellow and crooked behind fat, pulpy lips. She squeezed herself hard against the wall and drove her feet against the kneeling stool until they hurt. She could feel the skin on her shoulder blades scraping against the cold surface of the wall. All she could think of doing was staying where she was; pinioning herself firmly and resisting the grasping hands that reached forward to drag her into the open.
Caleb smirked at Maria, then took his staff and pointed it at her. She could not draw back any further, so just cowered as he poked the shiny silver point of the staff towards her neck as if he was baiting an animal. It made him laugh, and he poked in time with his guttural giggling and she responded, as if caught in a strange dance, by flinching every time the point came near to her; her eyes widened like a terrified animal.
She could not speak, and like the animal she felt she was, she grunted and whined. Then the point came very close to her neck and she had to dodge aside to avoid it. She gasped and made a shrieking noise. Caleb laughed loudly; her pathetic fear amused him and he prodded at her with increased insistence.
"Get her out Caleb. Plenty of time for fun later. Get the fucking bitch out!"
Caleb grinned and slowly lowered the point of his staff. It followed the line of her throat, down the upper part of her chest then between the top of her cleavage. He held it there for a moment, poised threateningly above the small, embroidered flower, then he scraped it across the front of her jacket and down to her knees. He put it under the top edge of the hem of her skirt. He giggled again, then slowly lifted the skirt and held it aloft on the point of the staff. He did not have to bend much to see up between her thighs.
"White ones!" he shouted excitedly and jumped up and down as he glared at her silky white panties. Then he pushed the silver point of the staff up between her thighs. Maria felt the smooth coldness against the flushed heat of her skin; she was horrified. The point moved further until it touched her white panties and she felt its metal end snagging on their flimsy material. She squeezed her buttocks to try and draw the soft flesh of her cunt away from the probing point.
"Out!" ordered Father Thomas.
She was cowering and cornered and afraid for her life, but she could not bear the fear of being trapped any longer; she felt baited and broken. Even though she was panicking too much to reason, she knew she had to come out into the open. Father Thomas could see that she was ready, and reached over to press Caleb's staff away from its target.
"You will have your fun soon," Father Thomas said, and Caleb screwed up his face in disappointment but stood back obediently. Then he started to shout and dance around, holding his staff above his head like a spear. "White ones! White ones! White ones!" he chanted.
Maria slowly drew away from the wall; she was resigned to leaving her sanctuary. As she relaxed her legs and edgily came forward, she felt the pain in her shoulders where they had scraped against the wall. She stood up with difficulty; she was shaking all over and felt faint and she held onto the red curtain as her knees sagged beneath her.
"In here!" Father Thomas indicated the wooden confession box where he usually sat. "What better place to start your treatment than in here."
Maria's lips were trembling, and she could see her hands shaking as involuntarily they fell to her sides. She wanted to be sick as she stepped out shakily.
Caleb lifted his staff again and prodded at her, its point touched against the sides of her calves and she moved at its insistence. He guided her to the front of the confession box; its wooden door gaped open. The prodding point stuck into her pale skin and left her legs stinging. She went into the confession box like a penned animal.
"Stand and face the wall," ordered Father Thomas. "We do not want to see the face of such a sinner. Face the wall you evil little bitch!" He paused for a moment. "Clothes off," he said. Then he turned to Caleb and smiled. "But leave your panties on for later."
Caleb jumped for joy and danced around and chanted as he poked his staff eagerly at Maria, taunting and baiting her like a cornered bear.
"White ones! White ones! Keep them on for later! White ones! White ones! White ones!"
Now in a state of complete terror, Maria reached up and tried to undo the buttons of her black jacket, but her hands were shaking so much she could not even get a grasp on them. She felt Father Thomas's anger and tried even harder, but she could not hold the buttons firmly enough even to begin pulling them through the buttonholes. Hopelessly, and in a pathetic effort to please, she reached around to the button on the waistband of her skirt, but she could not undo that either.
She wanted to turn around, she wanted to plead with Father Thomas to let her go, she wanted to apologise for being unable to undo her buttons, but she did not get chance to do anything.
"Strip the bitch, Caleb!"
Caleb stopped dancing and threw down his staff. It crashed heavily on the stone floor. He rushed up behind Maria, grabbed hold of her jacket and tugged at it frenziedly until it pulled down over her shoulders then down over her hips. The cuffs did not come over her hands and the sleeves turned inside out. Caleb pulled roughly at them and Maria stretched out her fingers so that the sleeves would pull down. Caleb fell back as they came free and the jacket finally fell to the floor. Then he grabbed the back of her shirt and tore at it until it ripped across the back. She flinched as the material cut into the front of her shoulders and squeezed tightly around her small firm breasts. Caleb kept pulling until the shirt tore down and fell away in tatters, then he grabbed the waistband of her skirt tightly and jerked it backwards. Maria fell against the side of the confession box and gasped loudly as the pressure of his frenzied pulling knocked the breath from her.
"Face the wall!" shouted Father Thomas.
She did not dare disobey; she lifted her arms and braced herself against the sides of the confession box. She put one hand through the lattice-work grill and with the other she hung onto a brass coat-hook. She wedged her wrist painfully in between the grill and its frame and clenched her fist tightly around the coat-hook.
Caleb continued pulling frantically at her skirt and it dug into her waist and made her hips hurt. Then he found the button at the side and ripped it out of the buttonhole. He grabbed the top edges of the zip and tore at it. The zip came undone and the pressure of the skirt around her shapely hips was released. Then he bent down and squatted on his knees. He bent his head upwards and stared up her skirt, leering at the crotch of her white panties. Then, still in the same position, he grabbed the hem of the skirt with both hands and pulled it down, it fell across his face and he bit at the material leaving trails of spit across it.