The men pulled the girl along one of the pillars, standing up, Barral took a supple stick and came in front of hers: she looked at him frightened, the monk came closer and told her:
“Now, now, my child… You will have to become more obedient… Your husband, completely loaded, proved himself quite unable to fulfill the duties that he had to fulfill, and also showed that he did not deserve you, as he is now completely asleep. You had, yourself, by your, let us say, original behaviour, some attitudes that are not to be taken or accepted by he who admits you amongst the pure and holy young brides. Thus you will have to repent and confess completely. My friend here, accepted to replace your absent husband, and transform you into a real woman… You must now accept that he does what he has to do with all the experience and refinement that are required…”
“But, first of all, come here, and confess all your sins…”
He moved his stool closer to her and sat down.
The young bride was looking at him, in complete amazement. He drew her close to her, but she struggled against him, “No… Not here, No, I do not want to, not in front of them.”
The monk got up, took a supple stick, and told her: “If, within thirty seconds you are not here, kneeling, prosternated, I will be sorry to have to chastise you as you deserve it on your bare buttocks.”
The bride looked at all the men, one by one, around her. She remained silent and put her bands on her white dress. She shook her head in refusal. At a given signal, two men got hold of her hands and lifted her dress, from behind higher that the belt… She had a relatively plump behind, that was molded in a pair of white silk panties. Barral hurried to roll the pants down her thighs. She was wearing white silk stockings.
The monk raised his hand, and with a cutting noise, the stick landed on the rotund globes, five times in a row, leaving big red marks on the soft flesh. At each blow the bride's body was twisting under the pain, and she was hollering like an injured animal… After the fifth strokes, the monk stopped and said: “Now Suzanne, are you consenting, or must I go on with the punishment?”
“Ah… No, please do not hurt me anymore, I hurt too much, leave me alone…”
“I ask you to answer my question, are you ready to confess your sins?”
From the tip of the stick he caressed the bare flesh, she shivered.
“Yes, yes… enough, do not hurt me any more…”
The monk gave Barral a sign, he put the mater al of he dress in the belt of the skirt revealing the strong behind with its twin pulpy globes, separated by a deep slit… The fleshy thighs were emerging from the lilly white dress, their pink shades contrasted against the immaculate material of the bridal attire. They placed the bride in front of a stool, bending forwards, and tied her hands with lashes.
Barral stood by her side, his stick in hand, and the monk sat behind the young woman facing the bare round buttocks.
Then, while he was touching with his hands the bare flesh, contracted and trying to avoid the shameful palpation, he confessed her, making her admit little by little all the menial sins, and insisting exceptionally on the sexual caresses that she had either received or given. resist, and move away… But then Barral, was striking with all his forces with the stick, and uttering a rubbing the sensitive flesh of the anus or the sex, through the thick mass of public hair, she tried to between her buttocks, or in the joint of her thighs, Sometimes, under a more precise caress, insinuating hoarse moan, the girl stopped resisting. Then the monk said:
“For you penitence, my child, you will offer the sacrifice of your modesty, and then later, you will receive on your colossal ass, the punishment that it amply deserves. After, and only after, will you be authorized to be purified by us all…”
He got up and they freed the girl. She got up blushing under the shame and also tipsy she took a look at them… They were all holding a whip in one hand.
The monk ordered: take your dress off.
She looked at him… Unconscious, motionless. A cry. Barral had just stoked the bare behind. She moved away, and backed to a pillar… gaping with anxiety… They raised their whips: “No… No… not that, I will do whatever you want me to do…”
And, breathing heavily, she unhooked the front of her dress, let it slide, revealing the round shoulders, the muscled arms, the rather thick legs… She remained with only a short white linen blouse, all embroidered, and so transparent that one could see the brown flowers of her teats…
“Lift your shirt and show your belly…”
She looked at the monk, hopeless, two more blows reached her amidst her thighs, then crying, she took the material between her fingers, and lifted it up… The men could see the velvety pubis, thick fur of ebony black hair…
“Higher…”
Facing the raised sticks, the girl lifted her shirt higher, and they could all contemplate the round belly, the deep navel, they left her in that posture for a long time, and then the monk ordered: “Take it off…”
A stick whistled in the air. The bride shivered, and her shirt hell around her ankles. She was then completely naked excepted her white stockings, her white gloves, up to the forearm, and her white veil… Rare vision, and voluptuously they contemplated her. She was expecting the end of her torture, her eyes closed… But the men were concentrating their attention upon the two slightly sagging bosom, but so voluminous that it was just a mass of lubric and alluring flesh…
The monk looked at Barral that showed him the ropes hanging from the ceiling. They came to the girl, and before she could only react, they fastened her wrists in two leather bracelets. She was then like a pink Y hanging from the ceiling… Her breasts, propped up by the pose, were even more suggestive.
They came to her.
“No… No, please let me go… I refuse NO… Aaah.”
She could not help crying under the odious caress of the hands on her breasts, on her buttocks, on her cunt… They were sucking at her nipples and caressing her between her legs… She was shivering, and trembling, and trying to free herself from the ropes that were holding her prisoner… But in vain. She kicked he monk with one foot, he came by her and gave her a couple of severe blows, then he put her ankles in two other leather bracelets that were tied to the ground. Now she was like a capital X, and she was completely open, offered to the desires of her tormentors.
“Ah… You are like a wild horse eh? Your breasts are sensitive? I am going to harden that flesh then…”
They both came, Barral and the monk, and took a breasts in one hand. A continuous lament came in the room, that had Janine shivering in her closet… The woman was twisting in the ropes that were maintaining her and the men were pressing her teats in their hard and nervous hands. They shook them, pulled at the ends, pressed the globes, lifted the whole globe by the nipple… The pain must have been insufferable to judge from her cries… The tortured flesh was lapped, whipped, pinched, squeezed… She was panting they stopped and looked at her shivering body.
“Now little girl… Is one getting wiser? Now you are ready to receive the caress that will transform you horrible teats into real breasts…”
Barral took a cat o'nine tails… The monk sat by the two country men, completely loaded and not realizing what was happening… Barral then raises his arm, and methodically starts an intense fustigation of the mammals… The young bride tries to escape, but in vain… One can see the muscles shiver under the contraction at each blow…
The lashes are encircling the globes either from the bottom to the top or vice versa… the flesh shivers and undulates under the blows… Barral feels that he his reaching the limit that he cannot pass without it being dangerous for the girl… He stops and comes by the girl… He takes one of the brown, and erected nipples between his lips, but then turns to his friends:
“Those ain't big enough yet…”
We will have to elongate the things… replies the monk.
“Very well,” says Barral and he takes a pair of tweezers, the old type used for laundry and he attaches them to the nipples… The woman hollers under the squeezing of her delicate flesh. In vain, they are all admiring the show of that woman with her breasts stretched by the action of the tweezers…
Barral fields a sadistic pleasure in pulling at the wooden things, and stretching the solidly maintained nipples to make the treatment more painful… The woman is moaning her temples are painful under the blood pressure suddenly increased by the pain in her breasts… Barral takes the tweezers away an watches the color come back to
