Spring is in the air as the Archdiocese prepares for the annual Easter Celebration. Bishop Andrew Wormsley sits in the spartan study of the Head Mistress of Our Lady of Endless Misery School for Girls. His host, Mother Superior Avila sits beside him. The nun, like every teacher in the private high school, is a member of the Sisters of Dolorous Countenance, one of the few holy orders whose members continue to wear traditional black and white habits. The priest and nun sit on a leather couch in front of a large color television. At a desk nearby sits Sister Fidget.

Her fingers skillfully manipulate the knobs and levers of a small console. She uses this device to control the dozens of tiny hidden cameras in the school’s locker room. The bishop and the head mistress gaze at the images of naked and half-naked teenage girls who have no idea that they’re being watched, let alone recorded. Wormsley can feel his cock thicken at the sight of plump pubescent breasts and tight young asses.

When he was sixteen he snuck into a theater that was showing the film “Carrie”. Ever since seeing the opening sequence, filmed in the steamy locker room filled with naked schoolgirls, he’s been obsessed with teenage flesh. As he stares at the screen, he’s glad he decided to wear a cassock rather than one of the black suits he normally wears. He is naked beneath this long tunic. Mother Superior Avila and Sister Fidget are naked too, underneath their voluminous gowns.

“There! There she is!” exclaims Avila as her assistant captures the image from one camera and then another, “That’s Christine Lamb, the one I want you to see. I think she’ll be perfect for the ceremony.”

The priest’s smile widens at the image on the screen. Christine Lamb stands in front of her locker. She wanted to spend more time on the balance beam before coming in to shower and change. Consequently, the fifteen year-old girl is still wearing a pink leotard and white tights. The colors compliment the naturally blond beauty’s flawless peaches and cream complexion. Pretty, naked girls flank her. They giggle and gossip, breasts and buttocks jiggling, while they reach for folded towels that hang from their lockers. Although she remains clothed, Christine Lamb is so remarkably beautiful that the nudity of her classmates fails to distract Bishop Wormsley. Nor does her sweat-soaked clothing does not repel him. On the contrary, the priest would like nothing more than to have Miss Lamb peel off her soaking tights and wring them over his upturned face so that her sweet sweat can fall into his open mouth.

Ever observant, Mother Superior Avila notices that the bishop is breathing more heavily than before. She glances down at his lap and smiles to see that his erect cock has made a tent of the black material of his cassock. The severe looking woman turns her head and nods at the only other person in the room. Sister Angela has been standing behind the head mistress and the bishop, watching the images of the naked girls on the television. At twenty-one, she is the youngest teacher in the school. Without hesitating, the beautiful nun walks over to the priest and drops to her knees before him.

He smiles when she lifts the hem of his cassock up his legs and over his hard cock. The young nun leans forward until her lips are inches from the purple head of the priest’s dick. She stares in fascination at the clear drop of pre-cum that dribbles out of his piss slit. She grins and mumbles a prayer.

“Holy Mary, Mother of God. Give me the power to suck cock to the greater glory of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit. Anoint my tonsils with holy cum. Amen.”

She then lowers her face and opens her lips, taking the large purple head of the Bishop’s cock with her warm mouth. Her lips form a tight ring around the base of his glans. Wormsley gasps when the nun sucks his pre-cum as if his dick were a straw filled with cock grease. She swirls her tongue around the priest’s cock head. The pretty nun taps her pointed tongue directly into his piss slit. She then sucks the remainder of his seven-inch member into her mouth.

Despite the talented tongue of the young nun, Father Wormsley’s attention remains fixed on the image of Chrissy Lamb on the television. The teenager has peeled off her leotard and stands in her tights. She removes her sports bra. The priest almost cums at the sight of the slender girl’s creamy breasts. Unlike most girl gymnasts, her breasts are large. Cherry-red nipples adorn the tips of her firm mounds. Apparently, Chrissy’s gymnastic efforts have excited her for those nipples stand erect, resembling pencil erasers. Most of the other girls in the locker room have gone into the showers.

The teen rolls down her tights. Sister Fidget switches to another camera and Chrissy’s taut ass fills the screen. Supported by long curvaceous legs, Chrissy’s ass is a pink wonder. Perfectly symmetrical pillows of flesh separated by a deep crack. The girl bends all the way over to examine one of her toes and the crack of her ass widens to reveal the pretty bud of her asshole. The fleshy lobes of her virgin cunt lips grace the apex formed by her legs. Chrissy straightens and turns. Her pubis is covered with a wispy down of blond curls.

“She’s delightful,” gasps Bishop Wormsley as Sister Angela gobbles down his cock, “Are you sure she’s a virgin?”

“Oh, yes,” responds Sister Avila.

The thirty-five year old nun has hiked up her habit so that its hem is at her waist. She’s wearing no underwear except for a red satin garter belt that holds up red stockings. A devout lesbian, Sister A. is almost drooling at the image of young Chrissy Lamb. She takes the large golden crucifix that hangs from her belt and slides the end of it into her cunt. She presses Christ’s head and the cross begins to vibrate.

“Chrissy is a good girl,” she says breathlessly, “Besides, she had her annual physical last week and Dr Crumb assures me that her hymen is intact.”

“Dr Crumb!” laughs the bishop, “I’m surprised the old lecher didn’t try to pop her cherry while he was looking up her snatch.”

Mother Superior Avila laughs.

“He knows that he won’t be invited to the Easter Ceremony if he fucks the virgin who will probably be its star performer. I can assure you, he gets his fill of pussy from the other little sluts who attend this fine academy.”

By now, Sister Angela’s head is bobbing vigorously up and down on the spit-shined cock of the priest. Her mouth overflow with saliva and cock juice. The bishop watches young Chrissy follow her classmates into the shower. Cameras located in the large communal shower room show images of dozens of naked teenage girls soaping themselves and each other. The camera catches two young girls locked in a tight embrace. Their lips are clamped together and their tongues explore each other’s mouth. The image fades and Chrissy Lamb fills the screen. Her beautiful body glistens as water pours over her. She uses both hands to massage soap over her firm breasts. Her red nipples peak out between her fingers. Water cascades down her breasts and belly and floods her pink triangle of pubic flesh. Chrissy has a look of blissful peace on her innocent face. She appears to be in a world of her own. She doesn’t appear to notice the raucous laughter of her classmates as they push and shove each other in the shower.

Mother Avila is moaning now as the vibrating cross sends waves of pleasure into her pussy. The young nun blowing Bishop Wormsley grabs the base of the priest’s cock. She presses her teeth into the fleshy column just under the rim of his glans. Biting gently, she sucks hard. Wormsley feels his balls twitching and contracting. With a groan, he begins to cum. Sister Angela squeezes the base of his cock hard, preventing the hot sperm from shooting up its fleshy column. The priest grunts as pain mixes with pleasure. He grunts louder when the nun releases the pressure allowing his cock to spit a copious amount of hot cock snot into her mouth.

The pretty nun’s cheeks bulge as she struggles to hold the priest’s sperm. After a few moments, the bishop’s balls are empty. He leans back exhausted. Sister Angela stands up and adjust her habit. The priest stares at her pretty, virtuous face. The nun smiles and opens her lips. A thick strean of sperm leaks out of each corner of her mouth. She does nothing to wipe the thick pearly slime away. Soon ribbons of sperm drip off her chin and land on the black cloth of her habit. By the time her mouth is empty, her chest is covered in thick man jam. Using her finger, she scrapes up some sperm and pops it back into her mouth. This time she swallows the load.

Mother Superior Avila watches this wanton display as a series of orgasms thunder through her body. She removes the greasy crucifix from her pussy and holds it up towards the young nun. Sister Angela opens wide and takes the base of the cross in her mouth, noisily sucking her Mother Superior’s cunt juice from its golden shaft.

The older nun and the priest stand up and adjust their clothing. Looking at the screen one last time, Bishop Wormsley admires the sight of young Chrissy Lamb. The slender girl is wearing lacy panties and is putting her large breasts into the cups of a 36D bra.

“Yes,” says the priest, “I think that young Lamb will make a wonderful Christ for our Easter passion play. What about her parents?”

“I’ve spoken to them,” says Sister Avila, “Half a million and two memberships to the Thanatos Society was all the convincing they needed to sell their daughter to us.”

The bishop is taken aback.

“Half a million? That’s a bit much, isn’t it? After all, we could have grabbed some little street whore to star in the Easter Pageant.”

“Yes,” agrees Sister Avila, “But I think you’ll agree that an innocent virgin is a more fitting representative. Besides, Sheik Abdullah contributed the money.”

“Did he? Abdullah the mad mullah?” exclaims the priest, “Well bless his heathen heart.”

“Mind you,” says the nun, “He insists on being a part of the pageant. I took the liberty of telling him he could and recommended he sharpen his skills in the use of a hammer and nails.”

The bishop laughs loudly and says, “Deliver Christine Lamb to the cathedral a day before Good Friday.”

Mother Superior Avila nods obediently. For three decades, a boy plays Christ one year and a girl the next. This year Chrissy will have the honor of experiencing the agonies suffered by Christ.

“Father Wormsley,” says the nun, “You and I have sworn to sacrifice our lives in the service of Christ. So will Chrissy Lamb. Only her sacrifice will be condensed and very, very painful.”

The Bishop and nun laugh as they watch the screen where fully clothed fifteen year-old Chrissy pick up her books and go off to her next class. Chrissy Lamb is very excited. She sits in the back seat of a gleaming black Chrysler 300. Beside her is Mother Superior Avila. The powerful car has been sent by Archbishop Otis Legion to carry the teenager from her school to his cathedral in the heart of the city. The girl looks out the tinted window and is thrilled when they pass a farm where young lambs cavort in a grassy meadow.

“Oh look Sister Avila,” she gushes, “The little lambs! Aren’t they cute?”

“Yes, my child, they are,” says the nun who smiles and thinks to herself.

Those lambs will be slaughtered before Easter is over and so, my dear Chrissy Lamb, will you. For the hundredth time, the nun admires the teenager’s appearance. The girl doesn’t seem to have noticed that the short red, plaid kilt of her school uniform had crept up to reveal several inches of her creamy thighs. Chrissy has enjoyed a growth spurt in the past few months and her blazer is a little too tight across the chest. Her full breasts push out the front of her jacket, straining the buttons of the blazer and the white shirt beneath it. The girl smiles at her Head Mistress. She has large blue eyes and a cute button nose. Her mouth is wide and her full lips are as red as her nipples. She doesn’t need lipstick. Her golden hair has been plaited into two braids that hang down to her shoulder blades.

The car enters the city. As they drive downtown, Chrissy can see the twin spires of the cathedral in the distance. They arrive at the church. The girl is impressed by the size of the limestone building. The teenager is surprised when the car doesn’t stop in front of the church. Instead, it proceeds along the avenue. A high stone wall marks the border of the church’s land. The driver stops before a set of wrought iron gates. He picks up a cell phone and announces their arrival. The gates swing open and the car glides through. The property upon which the cathedral is situated is several dozen acres in size.

They roll past a Grotto that contains diorama’s of the fourteen Stations of the Cross. In the center of the grotto is a skull shaped hill. They continue past a small cemetery and finally come to a limestone mansion — the Archbishop’s palace. Young Chrissy follows Mother Superior Avila out of the car to the front door of the large house. The teenager still thinks it odd that she was told to bring no luggage. The head mistress had informed her before they left her that everything will be provided to her over the next few days. The nun uses a large brass doorknocker to announce their presence. Almost immediately, a handsome young priest opens the door.

“Mother Superior Avila,” he smiles, “Come in. I’m Father Murphy,” turning to the teen he says, “You must be Christine Lamb. You are most welcome.”

Chrissy blushes and feels butterflies tickle her stomach as the young priest runs his eyes over her body in a rather unpriestly manner. “The Archbishop was delighted when he learned that you have agreed to be the star of our annual Easter celebration.”

“I hope that I won’t disappoint everyone,” she says nervously, “Mother Superior Avila hasn’t told me what I’ll have to do.”

“Don’t worry,” he says, “I’m sure you’ll do just fine. Now come with me and I will introduce you to Archbishop Legion.”

The priest leads the nun and teenager to the base of a large wooden staircase. He explains that the archbishop is in his study on the second floor. Father Murphy lets Chrissy proceed him up the stairs. He waits a second or two, letting the girl get four or five steps ahead of him before he follows her. This way he can up her skirt to admire her slim thighs and pert bum.

When they reach the top of the stairs, Father Murphy catches up and leads them down a carpeted hallway until he stops them before large door.

“This is his Excellency’s inner sanctum,” he whispers as he reaches for the shining brass doorknob, “Where he does his most holy work.”

As the priest slowly opens the door, the sound of rhythmic grunting fills her ears. The grunts emanate from two voices. One deep and masculine, the other more youthful and muffled. The door opens fully and Mother Superior Avila pushes Chrissy Lamb into the room. The young girl’s eyes widen in amazement at the sight before her. She is too stunned to speak. A thin teenage boy is lying on his back on the Archbishop’s large oak desk.

The lad, who cannot be older than fourteen is naked. A large red ball-gag has been forced into his mouth. Two large men dressed as monks are at the front of the desk. They firmly hold the youth’s ankles and wrists so that the teenager is bent in half. Archbishop Legion, a tall, gray-haired man, stands behind the desk. He is plunging his cock in and out of the boy’s asshole. As he does, he grasps the boy’s cock in his hand. The lad struggles but cannot break free from the iron grasp of the monks. The priest masturbates the boy. Legion looks up and smiles.

“Sister Avila,” he says, “I trust your journey was pleasant.”

“Yes, your Excellency, it was,” she replies with a smile. Indicating the teenage boy, she continues. “I see you’re providing spiritual guidance to one of your flock.”

“Yes,” replies the priest as he pistons his cock into the boy’s asshole, “This is Peter, one of our choirboys. He was caught chewing gum during rehearsal for the Easter Sunday service. He’s been warned several times about that but always ‘forgets’.”

He rhythmically thrusts his hips and says.

“This…”

Thrust.

“Should…”

Thrust.

“Help…”

Thrust.

“Him…” Thrust. “Remember.”

Despite the burning pain in young Peter’s ass, the priest’s skillful hands bring the boy to climax. Chrissy Lamb’s astonished eyes widen even more when she witnesses the lad’s cock spewing thick white sperm onto his own belly. The sight of the lad’s spitting organ triggers a similar climax in the archbishop. He jams his cock fully into the boy’s butt and fills him with cum.

It is only after he ejaculates that the archbishop appears to notice Chrissy. He pulls his deflated cock out of Peter. The two monks release the boy’s legs but hold on to his arms and press his shoulders onto the desk. After he puts his flaccid organ back into his pants the older priest smiles at the teenage girl and says to Sister Avila. “So this is little Christine Lamb. What an enchantingly beautiful young girl.”

Chrissy is still staring with shocked astonishment at Peter. The innocent has never seen a naked male outside of an art gallery. She certainly has never seen an erect cock before, let alone one spewing man jam. She hardly hears the archbishop until he raises his voice.

“Miss Lamb. I asked you if you are a virgin.”

The fifteen year-old tears her eyes away from the cooling pool of cum on Peter’s belly. Blushing furiously, she tells the archbishop that she is a virgin.

“Good,” he says, “Why don’t you come closer. There’s something I would like you to do for me.”

Father Murphy gives Chrissy a gentle push on the bum and she stumbles forward. The archbishop grabs her wrist and pulls her beside him.

“Tell me, my child. Have you ever sucked a cock?” he asks.

Chrissy winces at the obscene question. Too stunned to answer, she simply shakes her head. She cannot tear her eyes from Peter who remains trapped on the archbishop’s desk.

“You seem fascinated by our young friend here,” he continues, indicating the naked young man. “Why don’t you take a closer look.”

Without warning, the archbishop twists Chrissy’s left arm behind her back. She yells in pain as he lifts up her arm, causing a sharp pain in her shoulder. He grabs her braided hair with his other hand and forces her head toward Peter. Passing within inches of his wilted cock, she finds herself with her face only inches from the pool of cum on the teenage boy’s flat belly. The smell of sperm fills her nostrils for the first time in her life.

“Be a good little girl and lick it up,” orders Archbishop Legion.

Peter strains to look into Chrissy’s eyes. The two monks smile, taking pleasure in the teenage couples’ humiliation. The priest pushes the girl’s face into the pool of cum. She can feel the cold slime on her cheek and lips.

“Lick it, damn you!” shouts the priest while he painfully twists Chrissy’s wrist.

Reluctantly the girl opens her mouth and runs the tip of her tongue through the glistening puddle of sperm. She lifts her head to look at Mother Superior Avila. A dollop of sperm that rests on the tip of her student’s pink tongue amuses the nun. The priest forces Chrissy’s head down again and doesn’t release her until she licks all the semen from the boy’s belly. Only then does the archbishop permit the schoolgirl to get to straighten. She stands in meek humility while the monks let go of Peter’s shoulders. After the lad sits up, one of the monks unbuckles the strap holding the ball-gag in place. The teenage boy removes it and hands it to the archbishop with a smile.

“Jeez Dad,” he says, “My asshole feels like it’s on fire.”

“It’ll feel better soon,” says the priest, “And don’t call me dad, not even in front of our special friends. And don’t chew gum in choir.”

“Whatever you say Pops,” says the brazen boy. Looking at Chrissy, the fourteen year-old remarks that for a virgin, she’s got a talented tongue, “Perhaps she can use it to soothe my burning butt,” he says hopefully.

“What an excellent idea,” answers Archbishop Legion, “Why don’t you lean forward over the desk and spread your legs.”

Peter does as suggested. The priest turns to Chrissy.

“My dear,” he says. “If I may impose on your lovely tongue again, I’d like you to kneel between Peter’s legs. However, before you do, please remove your blazer. You must be very warm with it on.”

The girl unbuttons her jacket and slips it off her shoulders. Peter, who is lying prone on the desk, turns his head to look at her.

“What a gorgeous set of tits,” he remarks, “Can you tell her to take off her blouse?”

The priest orders her to unbutton her white shirt. She hesitates for an instant and one of the monks rips her shirt open. Buttons fly everywhere. The stunned teenager stands with her shirt open and her bra revealed. The monk grips the material of her bra and snaps the thin band that joins the cups in front. Her Chrissy’s glorious breasts stand out proudly on her chest. She blushes as every eye in the room crawls over her globes like ants on a cherry tipped cupcake. Archbishop Legion grabs her by the scruff of her neck and forces her to her knees between Peter’s spread legs. The boy grips his butt-cheeks and spreads them. Chrissy can see inside his asshole. The orifice remains stretched open from the priest’s battering cock. A thin stream of the priest’s semen leaks out of the fourteen year-old boy’s ass.

“Lick his ass,” Archbishop Legion orders.

At last, Chrissy Lamb has overcome enough of her shock to protest.

“No! I won’t!” she declares.

Without a word the priest reaches around Chrissy and grabs the nipple of her right breast between his thumb and forefinger. He digs his manicured nails into the sensitive flesh and squeezes.

“A-a-a-gh!” Chrissy screams in pain.

She’s never felt such a sharp pain in her entire sheltered life. In order to make pain stop she bends forward and touches her tongue to Peter’s asshole. Like a cat, she licks up the stream of the Archbishop’s sperm. Peter enjoys the feel of the beautiful teenage girl’s tongue on his asshole. His swelling cock demonstrates this enjoyment. Since her chin is almost resting on his balls, Chrissy is unaware of the growing penis until its tip touches the top of her breasts. She can feel wetness as his cock begins to leak precum. Archbishop Legion pushes her face forward until her nose is buried in the crack of the boy’s ass.

“Get that tongue of your right inside his ass Miss Lamb,” he orders.

The girl has difficulty breathing with her nose crushed against the boy’s ass. In order to end this humiliating torture quickly, she inserts her tongue completely into Peter’s dilated asshole. She can taste a combination of sperm, KY Jelly and shit. Peter is more excited by this beautiful girl’s humiliation than he is by the lovely feel of her tongue inside his sphincter. He grunts and Chrissy feels a thick, hot liquid splashing onto her breasts. The archbishop lets go of her head and she tries to sit back on her heels. She can’t at first for the teenage boy’s anal ring snaps shut when comes trapping her pink tongue in his ass. However, her tongue is malleable and slippery enough that she can pull it out. She remains on her knees and looks down to see her tits covered in Peter’s sperm. The youth has stood up and is looking down on Chrissy. He laughs and says,

“My cum looks like icing on her pink titties.”

Indeed, the boy’s spunk has drooled down the upper slope of her left tit. A drop of cock slime dangles from the very tip of her nipple before breaking loose and falling onto her red plaid kilt.

“Your pretty dress is getting greasy,” says Mother Superior Avila who had enjoyed herself immensely watching Chrissy Lamb’s humiliation.

Turning to the two monks, she asks them to assist the teenage girl.

The two men fall upon poor Chrissy and in less than a minute her skirt, socks, panties and shoes lie on a pile on the floor along with her torn shirt and blazer. One of the men pulls her by her hair to a standing position. She stands with tears streaming down her face. Young Peter approaches and smears his sperm all over her gorgeous breasts until they glisten. While he molests Chrissy, his father, the archbishop, presses a button on his desk.

“Leave her alone, Peter,” the priest orders, “I want to explain to young Chrissy here her role in the forthcoming Easter pageant, “But first, let’s get her ready for the first stage of the celebration.”

Just as he finishes speaking, two more monks enter the room. They are carrying iron manacles and heavy chains. They are assisted by their brother monks and after a few moments of struggle the teenage girl stands before the others wearing the chains. Her neck is enclosed in a tight collar. It is three inches high and Chrissy is unable to bend her neck. Rough iron manacles bite into the soft skin of her wrists and ankles. Her wrist manacles are joined together in front of her by a short heavy chain. A slightly longer chain connects her ankles together. The manacles of her wrists and ankles must weigh at least five pounds each while her heavy collar weighs at least eight pounds. While they were putting on her chains, Chrissy began to protest loudly. To shut her up, the monks shoved the same ball-gag into Chrissy’s mouth that had been used on Peter.

The beautiful teenager is forced to stand before Archbishop Legion.

“Now, Chrissy,” he begins, “Listen closely and I’ll tell you a little bit about our unique Easter pageant. As you might have guessed by now, I am not an ordinary archbishop. To most people in the diocese I remain kindly Archbishop Legion. Perhaps a little too conservative for the taste of “modern” Catholics but nonetheless an upright man and a shining example of what a Man of the Church should be. However, to a very small and exclusive number of people, I am Archbishop Legion, chaplain of the Thanatos Society. Of course, you’ve never heard of that particular organization but that is of no consequence. Suffice to say that the annual Easter pageant has been designed for them. You should feel honored to know that people are flying in from all over the world to help celebrate Easter with us.”

Chrissy winces in pain as the rough metal of her collar chafes the skin on her neck.

Legion ignores her and continues.

“Every year at this time, we recreate the agony of Christ right here in the Grotto. You, my dear, have been chosen to play Christ. We try to be authentic as we can. Those iron manacles are exact copies of the ones used by the Romans. They are not very smooth, are they?”

The naked teen cannot believe her ears. She tries to speak but the ball-gag prevents her from uttering anything more than guttural grunts.

“Yes, my dear,” he goes on, “From here you will be taken to a dungeon underneath the cathedral. Tomorrow you will be scourged and on Friday, you will be given the extreme honor of sharing our Savior’s pain. You are to be crucified.”

Upon hearing this, Chrissy tries to bolt away from the monks who are flanking her. Unfortunately, her heavy chains weigh her down and one of the men easily grabs the back of her collar. Once subdued, the teenage girl stands before the archbishop.

“Oh yes,” he says, “The members of the Society enjoy playing a role in our little pageant. They are quite creative and the fact that you’re female opens many possibilities when it comes to the nature of your punishment. One thing’s for sure, Chrissy. You won’t be a virgin by the time you are nailed to the cross.”

The archbishop looks at the monks and orders them to take her away. The four monks hustle the teen out of the room and down the stairs. They shove her into the trunk of a car and drive to a side entrance of the cathedral. They open the trunk and drag her out. She is brought down to a lower level of the cathedral. This secret sub-basement was paid for by the Society and looks just like an ancient prison. On the way to her cell, they stop at an opening in the stone passageway. Seated at a wooden table and illuminated by torchlight is a muscular hunchback. One of the monks addresses the deformed man.

“Hey Quasimodo,” he says mockingly, “Look what who’s going to play Christ this year.”

The hunchback stares malevolently at the beautiful captive with his one good eye.

“Don’t call me Quasimodo. My name is Lawrence.”

He hops off his stool and hobbles up to Chrissy. He is built like a fireplug. His eye is level with her nipples.

“Lovely,” he murmurs. The girl shudders when he runs his leathery hand over her left breast. “Her skin is a soft as smooth as silk and soft as butter.”

Chrissy tries to twist away but he grabs her nipple in his hand and squeezes until she stand still.

“Before these gentlemen put take you to your cell, let me show you one of the toys you and I will be playing with tomorrow,” the ugly man says.

He goes back to his table and picks up what a brown leather whip and brings it to her. Holding it up he explains that this is an authentic flagrum. The whip has a short wooden handle. Three strands of leather are attached to one end. They vary in length from fifteen inches, nineteen inches and twenty-three inches. Lead balls are attached to the end of each strand. A second ball is attached about three inches from the end each strand. Waving the scourge proudly the hunchback says, “It was used by Roman soldiers on their prisoners. They used it on Jesus. Look my dear, at the narrow strips of leather. Hold out your hand.”

Chrissy hesitates so a monk grabs her hand and holds it palm-up before the hunchback.

“The edges of the leather strips are very sharp,” Quasimodo says, “Watch.”

Holding the handle of the flagrum in his left hand, he takes a single strip of leather in his right. He runs the edge of the strip across Chrissy’s hand. She shrieks around her gag as the sharp leather slices her palm open. Blood oozes from what feels like the most painful paper cut in history. She shakes her hand spraying droplets blood on the floor of the room.

Ignoring her moans of pain, the hunchback eagerly goes on to explain the other feature of the flagellum.

“When you came in,” he explains, “I was just attaching the last ball to the end of the whip. Not only will this whip flay the skin from your sweet body, my dear, but also the balls will leave horrendous bruises – might even break a rib of two. Now go and try to get some rest. Tomorrow will be a very busy day.”

The monks drag Chrissy away. They shove her down the corridor and stop before a heavy wooden door. Using a large key, one of the monks unlocks it and swings it open. It creaks on its hinges. The naked teen is dragged into her cell. Eight torches that are attached to the dripping walls of the chamber light the cell. The room itself is ten feet by ten feet. The floor is made of rough flagstone. Iron rings have been screwed into the floor and walls. Moving with efficiency born of much practice, the monks unfasten the chains from Chrissy’s wrists and ankles. One of them removes her ball-gag. Her slight feeling of relief is short lived. The four men force the girl onto her back on the cold damp floor. Using different chains, they quickly have her spreadeagled with her wrists and ankles attached to rings driven into the floor. They stand up and admire the helpless naked girl. She tries to protest but quickly becomes silent after one of the brothers threatens to stomp her tits to hamburger if she doesn’t “shut the fuck up”.

“I think we should baptize Chrissy,” says one of the men.

The others readily agree. The first monk removes a large plug of chewing tobacco from the deep pocket of his robe. He takes a big bite and passes it around to his brothers. Chewing, the men move around the splayed teenager.

They comment on her beauty.

“It’s hard to believe that such a gorgeous tart can remain cherry in this day and age,” says one man.

“It’s a tribute to a Catholic education,” says another.

“Indeed,” says a third, “In a way, it’s almost sad that such a pretty girl won’t be so pretty after tomorrow.”

Looking the quaking girl in the eye, the fourth monk smiles evilly and says, “Don’t worry too much about not being so beautiful tomorrow, Chrissy. Look at the bright side, by the end of the day you’ll be dead.”

The first monk, knowing that his colleagues have had sufficient time to thoroughly chew their tobacco into slimy messes, says it’s time to baptize the girl. He spits his wad at Chrissy. It lands with a wet plop onto her left tit. Most of the tobacco rests on her nipple while warm brown spit courses down her breast. The next monk launches his greasy missile and it lands in her pubic hair. The girl can feel the tickle of tobacco juice flowing along the lips of her pussy. A wad launched by the third brother strikes the girl on her belly button. The fourth monk spits his gob of oily “chew” into Chrissy’s face. It hits her upturned nose and splatters over her pretty face. She can smell the cloying odor of the sweetened tobacco.

The monk standing at her head looks down at her and says that he hopes that she gets some sleep and that her cellmates don’t bother her too much. The men then leave her alone in the cell.

As she lies chained to the floor, Chrissy tries to understand what the monk meant by “cellmates”. After ten minutes, she hears a scuttling sound. She tries to lift her head but the wide iron collar prevents this. The scuttling gets louder. Soon it is joined by similar scratching noises. The girl shudders when she feels something tickling the inside of her thigh. Something is crawling up her leg. She can feel something else walking along her other leg. A third thing is tickling the lips of her pussy.

Whatever it is spends some time at the chewed up tobacco that has soaked her golden pubic hair. After a minute, the tickling sensation continues along her leg and over her belly. Soon it is climbing the gentle slope of her breast. Only when it surmounts the peak that is her nipple, does Chrissy see what it is. A large brown cockroach apparently attracted by the sweet smell of the chewing tobacco. Her panicky screams echo off the stone walls of the cell as more and more of the insects swarm over and around her. She struggles to shake them off but her chains hold her fast. After a few moments, the girl feels pressure of a different sort. Something hot and wet is pressing against the left lip of her virgin cunt. Somewhat heavier than the insects, it crawls over her pubic hair and along her belly.

Whatever it is follows the path blazed by the first brave cockroach and climbs her breast. As it conquers the fleshy mountain that is Chrissy’s left breast, the girl sees what it is. Her screams intensify. A large rat is sitting on her chest. Its beady red eyes burn into hers as it continues its journey of discovery. The vermin draws back its lips, exposing its needle-like yellow fangs. The naked teen increases her attempts to buck the rodent off her body. It senses what she’s trying to do and digs its toes into the soft flesh of her tit. Its tiny claws scratch her. The rat turns around, its tail brushes against her lips and he moves toward her feet. She can feel it stop on her stomach.

She lies still when suddenly a burning pain sears the flesh just above her belly button. The rat has bitten her! With a mighty convulsion, Chrissy bucks her hips and flips the rat onto the floor. It returns but cannot get back onto her because she continues to buck and writhe. Her efforts make the rough metal of her manacles chafe the soft skin of her ankles and wrists. After half an hour, the skin under the metal looks likes raw steak. While Chrissy can tolerate the cockroaches, her fear of the rats intensifies. She turns her head to see two more rodents skulking along the wall of her cell. Her only hope is to continue to writhe. For hours, she bucks and twists in her chains. During the night, she suffers two more rat bites – the first on her left hip and the second on the inside of her thigh. For twelve long hours the poor girl fights off the hungry rodents. At last, the door to her cell clangs open and the rats retreat.

The exhausted girl lies on the floor. Her collar prevents her from lifting her head to see who has entered. She hears footsteps approaching. She hears her father’s voice.

“Chrissy, can that be you?”

“Oh Daddy,” she shouts, “You’ve come to save me!”

Her father responds with a soft chuckle. Then her mother speaks.

“Doesn’t she look lovely, stretched out like that, Arthur?”

“Does she ever,” says her father, “If I’d realized she looked this good naked, I would have fucked her myself months ago.”

The stunned girl cannot believe her ears. Aren’t her parents here to rescue her from the evil archbishop and his gang of mad monks?

Her silent question is answered silently when her mother and father step into view. They are both wearing uniforms of soldiers of Imperial Rome. From her angle on the floor, Christine Lamb notices that her parents wear nothing under the short skirt of their uniforms. She never knew that mother shaved her cunt and had a ring through her labia. Nor did she realize just how large her daddy’s cock was.

END OF CHAPTER ONE