“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 the painful extremities.
“Those aren't really long enough,” says the monk who knows Barral's passion.
“I know a way…” replies Barral… He takes two thin ropes ending with a loop, quickly he encircles the nipples, and then, squeezing the flesh by pulling at the rope, he tightens his grip on the teats… Holding the ropes he pulls slowly… The breasts are stretched monstrously, the girl looks, in complete horror, her distended bosom that elongates more and more… Now the breasts are nearly completely horizontal, held by the tips… As Barral pulls harder, the pain gets more violent, and one cries, twisting her tortured torso… But Barral now turns the ropes and the breasts are undulating under the action of his hands, like two puppets at his orders.
But now the girl is hollering and after two more violent shakes, Barral leaves the breasts, and unhooks the two ropes, deeply incrusted in her teats… He sucks at the breasts for a long time, while his hands are caressing the girl's sex, and deeper between her legs… She quivers… His finger had just touched her virginity… He does not insiste but keeps sucking at the teats, and looks at them.
“But those ain't got no holes in them… I will have to do that right now, or you could not feed your coming sons…”
Horrified she sees him take the needles…
Then one by one, Barral takes the needles ending with an artificial pearl, and he sticks them in the woman's nipples, not deeper than a couple of millimeters… The pain is not too violent for the woman, after all the other tortures that the breast have undergone… But she keeps her eyes closed and sighs slowly… There are already twelve needles in the right nipple… Barral now comes to the other one… There is hardly a drop of blood… He is doubtlessly an expert…