“Scream away, you sensual woman, why don’t you implore the Holy Virgin to have pity and forgive you, we are only carrying out her commands, are we not Father Francisco?” hissed out old Anthony, as he continued to scourge my back and sides, and [79] ]every now and then aimed a fearful blow right down my lacerated cunny. Again they would stop for a little, and ask me jeeringly, “about my feeling of remorse, would I indulge in such obscenity with my husband again, or keep from adultery in future?”
I was almost too far gone to do more than moan, and Father Anthony suggested that I ought to be well lashed over my neck, shoulders
, and bosom, to make me speak out, but the other seeing how exhausted I really was, restrained his mad fury, and then after waiting a little one of them would give me a terrible cut, and ask the other to see the beautiful effects of it as I swayed about in agony; this was done again and again, till after a time the scourges were thrown aside, and the rope being lowered I was allowed to lay on the floor for a little while, and some cordial was again administered to refresh me, my tormentors sitting down and frigging themselves openly before my face, till in the act of spending they would stand over me so that I might [80] ]be thoroughly humiliated by having all their spendings drop on my face, neck, or head, as I was still secured to the floor by my wrists.
Presently, at a sign from Francisco, his companion hoisted me up by the ancle again, and did it so tightly that I was frightfully stretched by my arms and leg; which were drawn as painfully tight as he could make it, the fastenings cutting into the flesh so that I bear the marks to this very day, I could see that Francisco was again preparing his godemiche with oil, but he did not put any upon my person.
Horrified at the sight, I begged and implored them in the most piteous manner not to degrade me again with that disgusting instrument, promising to pay the Church any amount for absolution rather than endure it again.
“Too late, too late, your repentance is not sincere, besides, the other day we saw with our eyes how your lascivious nature responded to the thrusts of this thing in your cunt, [81] ]now I am going to degrade your bottom-hole by inserting it there, however painful the operation may prove,” saying which he seized, and held my left leg under his arm, and standing close to my body at once proceeded to carry out his infernal idea of ravishing my anus. Lacerated, bleeding, and sore as my bottom was at the least touch, and regardless of my piercing shrieks, he forced the oily head of the india rubber thing quite into my tightly contracted bum-hole, the pain was intense, as it seemed to rend the lining tissue of the anal canal in its passage, and the bristles round its root added, if possible, still more to the intensity of my suffering.
I believe, that giving one long shriek of agony, I lost consciousness for a time, but only to awake and find them
laughing and jeering at my sufferings, as the one worked his dildoe in my bottom, whilst the other had thrust two or three fingers up my blood-stained and wounded cunt. It is quite indescribable what I felt at this outrage, the accumulation [82] ]of shame, agony and horror so overpowered my exhausted nature, that I went off again into such a death-like swoon, that they really feared I was dead, and made haste to let me down as well as apply strong restoratives.
My hands were still retained in the rings on the floor, and the godemiche was left sticking in my bottom, the spasmodic contractions of the sphincter muscle holding it as in a vice, whilst the pulsations of the violated passage behind were still awfully
painful. All this was apparent to me as I slowly came to myself once more, and could see the excited looks of my cruel Confessors, who proceeded to sprinkle me with cold water, and use a large sponge for the purpose of both refreshing me and allowing them to gloat over the extent of my hurts.