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Her relief was short-lived as the Monsignor took a knout from a drawer in his desk and offered it to her.

"This is what you will use to purge yourself of any sins you may feel you have committed, Sister. Here it replaces confession; when you believe you have purged yourself sufficiently, you are absolved of the sins you have remembered, just as if you had confessed them and performed the penance set by the priest," he said.

She took the whip and looked at. She had never seen its like before, It consisted of a tapering bundle of leather thongs about three feet long; clearly the user could flagellate her own back with ease. Sister Lucia was not aware that this was a gentle version of the device; more earnest penitents would use the same whip, but with each thong twisted with wire and hardened, so that its use would mangle the flesh.

"Do you have any sins unconfessed, Sister?" came the quiet question.

"Oh yes, Master," she replied, "You know I have."

"Very well then. You may commence to purge them now."

"Here? In front of you, Master?" she asked, uncertain.

"Of course, child. I need to know that you are using this scourge properly. You have never seen one before," it wasn't a question.

Sister Lucia took the knout in her right hand and lashed it over her left shoulder on to her back. She did feel it land, but it didn't really hurt.

"Sister Lucia," Monsignor Flavin's voice was full of tender solicitude, "You will have to strike much harder than that. Moreover it is a time-honoured tradition that scourging is applied to bare flesh."

"You mean I am to..." her voice trailed off.

"My child, I do not say this for my own satisfaction," he lied, "but for the sake of your immortal soul. Here at the College of Correction and Redemption we have seen many souls at risk. Many have been saved from eternal damnation, but only by obedience and humility. Do cease your questioning of every order you are given, my child, I beg of you, for your soul's sake."

Sister Lucia hesitated for only a moment before slowly removing her habit. She had never in her life stripped herself naked before another person, not even as a very small child. Even her lover, Marie, had had to remove Sister Lucia's clothes herself.

When she was naked, the Monsignor had to fight hard to control himself. This young nun had a body that would have tempted a saint, had there been such a one remotely near the College. Unpromising though her birth and upbringing had been, the end result was definitely worth looking at, and more. Much as he wanted to do so, he dared not fondle that body just yet. There was much groundwork to be done first.

Not looking at the priest, but keeping her eyes firmly on the floor in front of her, Sister Lucia lifted the knout high again. Monsignor Flavin could not tear his eyes from the way her right breast lofted and bounced slightly, the pink nipple rigid from cold and embarrassment. She let fly with the knout, putting all her strength into it, and screamed in pain as the thongs bit into the flesh of her back, the tips of several of them snapping viciously into the soft skin of her upper buttocks. She crumpled to her knees and dropped the knout. Never in her life had she known such pain.

Entranced though he was by the bouncing flesh on show, the old priest was not slow to rush round the desk and help her to her feet, taking every opportunity to grip the young firm flesh 'accidentally' as he did so. When she was on her feet, he examined her back solicitously, stroking the angry red and black marks left on her skin by the knout as though to smooth them away. He even went so far as to cup one buttock before remembering himself and moving away from her. Fortunately she did not notice, her mind being occupied by the agony of her outraged flesh.

When she had calmed a little, he said, "I think that's enough for today, Sister. You may replace your habit."

Gratefully, she did so, only to discover that her skin protested violently wherever the cloth touched a weal.

"Go to your room, my child. I will come and see how you are later on," as she reached to recover the whip, he added, "Do not take the knout. I will bring you a shorter, softer instrument, more suitable to one who is not accustomed to flagellation."

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May, 1984, Chicago, Illinois Bethany and I said our goodbyes and I walked her out to her car. We kissed before she got into her car, and after she drove off, and I went back inside. My housemates were filtering out, along with my friends, and the house would soon be empty. I let Kara and Jackie know that I was going to pick up Anala. They disappeared together, and I headed out to my car to drive to Bridgeport. Other than a brief greeting, and a question about her final project, Anala and I...

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