Extract from FATHER STUD
Jeanette lay on the rough wood table. She wanted to move but her wrists and ankles were
chained securely to posts positioned so she was spread wide apart. She gritted her teeth
as she looked around the grim room. On the wall to her right were various torture
instruments. There was a bodkin, several thumbscrews in different sizes, pokers, nasty
looking drills, hooks and things that she didn’t even want to know for what purpose they
had been brought into being.
The stony walls looked forbidding even though a fire was cheerfully crackling in the
open fireplace. At least the room was warm.
She was fully clothed although the two hulking thugs who had dragged her into this
dark underground chamber had removed her boots. At least to her it seemed underground,
as there were no windows or natural light to brighten the room. The only door to the small
chamber was a huge iron wood affair with locks and bolts that could be used to prevent any
entry from the outside.
She watched the door as it slowly moved and a tall, thin man entered. He calmly shut
the door behind him and slid the large iron bolt in place. There was a large metal key
hanging on his belt. His cool, steely gray eyes looked at her for several long moments of
apparently close inspection. To her the silence was deafening. She noticed he was
wearing a rich blue cassock. Jewels glittered from buttons and from an impressive gold
ring on his right hand. His short, brown hair was accented by gray at the temples and
his thin nose jutted above a thin mustache. His lips were thin and somehow forbidding.
His ghost of a smile denoted cruelty and not mirth.
He took a few moments to look at the woman stretched out helplessly before him. Her
hair was long, lustrous and a shade between gold and red. She had captivating green eyes.
They were like cat’s eyes, wary and suspicious. Her red lips were full and her
cheekbones high which added character and lovely proportion to her heart shaped face.
Finally he spoke, “My name is father Justin. You may call me that when I permit you
to speak.”
She said nothing as he walked over to the rack of torture instruments and carefully
selected a long, sharp knife.
He continued, “Hmmm, that should do. It’s fine Toledo steel. Yes that should do
nicely.”
He turned back to her and proceeded to cut off her clothes.
She protested, “Why are you doing this outrage?”
He looked at her sternly as he removed her left sleeve, “Shut your mouth woman or
I’ll be cutting more than cloth!”
She had the distinct feeling that he wasn’t kidding. Fear and rage filled her eyes
but she kept silence as he cut and ripped off every shred off her beautiful body. He laid
the cold steel on her groin right on the thick, reddish pussy hair. The steel was cold on
her. She watched as he momentarily licked his lips as he gazed on her bare skin and
tempting curves.
He spoke again and this time for some length. “You are Jeanette Boudreaux of a very
minor noble family. You are here of course because you are of that detested Calvinist
sect. You are a wicked schismatic and a condemned excommunicated heretic. The pig Calvin
and the brute Farrell can’t save you now considering that both are in their graves and are
being led by Lucifer to the well-lit pits of everlasting hell. You have despised holy
mother church with your perverse doctrines. Now I am charged with bring you to
repentance. You understand of course that I can use any means, inflict any pain or
pleasure for that matter to make you recant your perfidy and embrace mother church once
again. My fine upstanding brothers or I can literally do anything to your body to bring
you to Christ. Only your soul is important. Right now at this moment your soul is lost.
If you were to die this moment, you would go straight to hell with Husse, Luther, Calvin
and that damned Henry of England. That’s why we sent armies to Germany and Bohemia to
stamp out this heresy that is threatening Christendom. I have a very special torment for
you. I know your kind. You’ve always had servants to do the menial tasks. You’ve always
been well clothed until now. You’ve had good food while others starved. You’ve always
expected and received dignified behavior even from your husband who by the grace of God
was killed in battle recently I understand. “
He picked up the knife and gently slid it on her belly and up between her breasts and
let it lie there. He smiled again and he reached down with his fingers and sharply
pinched the nipple on her left breasts. She gasped with mortification and pain.
He again continued in his dry, expressionless voice. “I think the way to break you
is not through pain although that would be quite a pleasant task. I think humiliation and
visceral contact will do the job. Ah such a beautiful young heretic to enjoy and caress.”
His slender hand moved to the other pink nipple and gently stroked it causing it to
harden in instinctive response. He left the knife where it lay as he firmly cupped and
squeezed her tits. They were large, soft and quite ample. She shot daggers at him with
her eyes but she bit her lip and said nothing.
His tone was slightly mocking, “You don’t like that do you?”
She spat, “No you Cadolish pig!”
He raised his eyebrows, “Tsk, tsk, tsk, tsk, is that any way for you to speak to the
guardian of your soul? Don’t you know I could have your tongue cut out of you for such
blasphemy?”
She retorted, “If my blessed husband were here right now he would cut you down like
the dog you are!”
He gave her breasts a vicious twist and she gasped in obvious pain. He was just a
bit angry now. “You don’t seem to understand you witch of hell. I can have you cut
apart, bit-by-bit, and day-by-day. I can have your skin gradually removed and the flesh
beneath sprinkled with salt. I can administer a thousand tortures so terrible that you
would beg for the mercy of death. You will speak to me respectfully or not at all while I
explore every inch of you.”
She could just barely see the knife when she raised her head up, as there was no
pillow o the hard wooden table. She definitely could feel the cool steel lying against her
soft, tender skin. Jeanette decided to keep quiet although she would love to have seen the
lout broken on the wheel. It would be so pleasant to hear his bones snapped and crushed
by a sledgehammer.
He continued his methodical examination as his hands felt her up and down. He shoved
two fingers into her tense pussy and wiggled them inside until he was rewarded by an
increase in wetness. Then he moved to the chains and proceeded to increase the tension,
pulling her legs even further apart.
Her voluptuous beauty inwardly struck him. For a brief moment he actually
experienced a flash of jealousy over the dead husband that first possessed and rutted this
enticing temptress. Her pink cunt was so irritable in its vulnerability and easy access.
Her tits were large and well formed and full of inner life he was sure. He moved to her
open crotch and began to lick and taste her. She could tell he knew what he was doing as
he taunted her clit with gentle flicks and finger pinches as he aroused her sex. God he
knew how to arouse her. She hated him. She loathed the very sight of him and yet her
pussy wanted to be stroked and penetrated. Her juice was starting to flow in spite of
herself.
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