Catholic Girl

This story continues from the earlier chapter, and both take place after the contraceptive pill was available but before the internet. Commercial sex toys were not easily available, especially in rural Wales.

Friday evening

After work on Friday, I trudged along the unpaved track to our small house in the woods. It was a warm summer evening. I found Joyce slumped in a chair, red-eyed, she had obviously been crying. I am good at fixing things but less good at comforting people. I picked her off the chair and sat her in my lap with my arms around her. She clung onto my neck and sobbed.

"Tell me. Is it something that I've done to hurt you?" She shook her head. "Is it something you've' done?" Another head shake. "Please tell me."

She slid off my lap and returned with a folded document, her birth certificate. She sniffed "I need it to get a National Insurance Number. Look at it. I wrote to Mum in Ireland, and she sent it without even a letter."

"Perhaps she was in a hurry," I suggested.

"No, look at it." I did, it looked okay to me, so I just raised my eyebrows and looked puzzled. I did say that sympathy was not my strong suit.

"My Aunt is my mother," she blurted out. My Dad is my father, but Mum is not my mother. Auntie was always around and lived with us. Dad must have made Auntie pregnant, and they pretended it was Mum. It is a punishment for what we are doing. It's a punishment for my sins, for being with you." She started sobbing uncontrollably.

I got up and made us a cup of tea. The British solution to all woes. "Joyce, you know that you are not responsible for what your parents did before you were even born. I understand why you are upset, tell me anything that I can do to make you feel better."

"I know that it's not really my fault," she retorted angrily, "But I feel dirty and guilty. What can you do about that? What possible penance can I do to make me feel better? I don't think I can let myself keep loving you. I don't know what to do. How can you possibly fix that?" she added mournfully.

I sat for several long minutes, thinking while she sniffled and sobbed. I said to her, "There are two types of punishment penance. Either denying something you want like food or sleep; or giving you something you don't want like pain or working to exhaustion. You will get both types until you feel cleansed. Drink your tea, wash your face, change those jeans for a skirt and then make my dinner. Do it now."

She seemed relieved to have something positive to do. A short time later she returned looking slightly better. While she was cooking dinner, I explained that the first part of the punishment was denying something that she wanted. "Take off your knickers."

"I told you I don't want to love you, I don't think that I should have sex with you, it would feel like making a sin even worse."

"You are not going to decide, you are not going to get enjoyable sex, you are being punished, this is a penance. Penitents do things that make them uncomfortable. Take off your knickers." She took them off with bad grace. "You decided that you need to suffer. Until you convince me you have excised these demons so that you feel better, I will punish you. Take off your shirt as well...

She put our dinners onto plates and sat down at the table. The expressions on her face were switching between defiance, anger, sorrow, and shame. I quietly told her that I liked looking at her tits so she should tuck the top of her bra under her breasts. She glared back at me while she did it, so I reminded her that it was not to make her excited, but for my pleasure. Despite that, her nipples rapidly hardened. As we ate, her breathing became shallower, and her skin flushed slightly.

"Why are we doing this?" I asked

"To punish me, it's my penance."

"That is why you want this. Why am I doing it?"

She thought for a while and then said in a hopeful voice, "To make me feel better?"

I took her head in my hands and gave her a powerful kiss. "Yes, to make you feel better and to get my happy Joyce back. I will keep going until

you can convince me that you feel better

."

I finished eating and moved to an armchair. "Will you get me a bottle of beer please?" She hurried away and stood beside me with the bottle. I placed my hand on her leg and reminded her that part of her penance was to deny her something that she wanted. As I held my beer in one hand, the other stroked the inside of her thigh, sliding up to but not touching her pussy. She started to pull away, "Stay," I said firmly. "Move your feet apart and stay still."

My hand slid to the outside of her leg and up to her hip, under her skirt. Then across her hip bone, across her lower belly and back again. "This is for my pleasure, and your penance. Do not cum, do not move, stay quiet." I finished my drink and with a hand on each hip, I moved her to stand in front of me. I undid the belt of her skirt, then lowered the zip and undid the button. It started to slide towards the floor, and she made a grab for it; I slapped her hand away. "Hands behind your neck if you can't behave," I told her softly. She was now only wearing a bra that displayed, rather than hid her nipples. I was pleased that she had kept her cunt shaved and her pussy lips had started to swell.

Her hips were slowly undulating from side to side. I reached up and stroked the tops of her breasts and trailed my fingertips across her swollen nipples. Her breath caught. "Your punishment is to be kept wanting. I am not being punished so I want you to kneel here on a cushion and take care of the painful erection that you have caused. I want you to try and forget about the ache in your genitals and use your mouth to sooth the ache in mine. Undress me please. She undid my shoes, removed them and my socks, slid my work trousers and pants down and then unbuttoned my shirt so that it could slip off my arms and shoulders."

She knelt and shuffled towards me. "All tonight I want your body to feel on fire without any relief. Do you understand?" She nodded and slid her lips over my erection. I laid back in the chair and she had to kneel up straighter to reach me and that allowed me to play with her breasts and nipples while her tongue swirled around, and her mouth slid slowly up and down. I knew that she enjoyed a little gentle pain with her pleasure, but I only stroked her nipples and did not pinch or pull them, despite her pushing them into my hands.

I told her to move and bend over the arm of the chair with her head in my lap. This pushed her bum up within easy reach of my hand. With one hand I brushed my fingers across her nipples, with the other, I stroked the firm globes of her bottom, occasionally brushing my fingertips along the crease and around her sphincter. Then I slowly slid a finger up and down between her moist lips, which made her raise and lower her hips in time with my stroking. She slid her mouth off my erection to tell me that 'it felt too good to be a punishment'.

"The punishment is that you cannot orgasm. I want to make you ache." She groaned and she increased the suction and speed of her fellation. "Stay slow on me. This is for my pleasure and your denial," I reminded her. "Move your feet as far apart as you can on the floor, I want to feel you and tease your pretty pussy and bum." She groaned again.

For long minutes she worshiped my prick while I played with her body. "I'm very close to cumming," she said breathlessly.

"Good girl for telling me." The praise seemed to please her. I stopped playing with her, just resting my hand on her bottom which was wriggling, trying to rub her clit against the arm of the chair. I told her to stay still and concentrate on my prick. After a pause she started to wriggle again so I told her to fetch the wooden ruler. She handed it to me and resumed her position over the arm of the chair.

"I won't be giving you playful taps on her bottom. If you lose concentration or started wriggling again, I will slap your cunt hard. Keep your legs wide. You can finish me off now." She slid me deep into her throat and sucked hard, then slid back and forward on me, sucking, and licking while fondling my balls. Her hips bucked unexpectedly so I brought the ruler down hard between her wide-open legs. She screamed around me and plunged her mouth down.

I erupted.

She lifted her head looking triumphant. I pushed on her shoulders to help her stand and told her to take off her bra then to keep her hands behind her neck and her legs apart. I stood up and went behind her and stroked her sides and bottom. I gently massaged her breasts and played with her nipples. I fluttered my hand down her belly and ran a finger beside her clit, not touching it. She swayed her hips to bring it under my fingers, but I took my hand away completely which made her groan. I continued to tease and play with her body, making her writhe and moan.

I sat her on the chair and pushed her knees back to her chest and had her grip and hold them there. I knelt in front of her and kissed up the inside of her thighs and brushed my lips across her labia. She was panting and writhing. Her cunt was gently pulsing, so I told her to let me know when she was close to cumming. Soon she gasped out that she was close, so I leant back and let her cool down. I let her see the ruler as I picked it up from the arm of the chair. She looked back uneasily. I continued repeatedly kissing, nibbling, lapping, sucking, and licking around her labia; stopping if she got too close.

Her hips bucked and she groaned and tensed trying to stop her impending orgasm. I brought the ruler down directly across her clit and inner labia. She lurched once and cried out before relaxing. "Did you cum?" I asked quietly.

"Not quite. I nearly came from your mouth and the slap on my pussy nearly made me cum from the pain. I want to cum so badly now, this really is a punishment, even though it feels good."

I suggested that we take a bath together. I needed one after a week at work and it would give Joyce a chance to relax...hmm. When I was in the tub, Joyce washed my back then climbed in and sat between my legs with her back to me. I soaped and fondled her. God, I loved her tits and slim body. We dried each other and went back to the main room, still naked.

I had seen a picture of Japanese rope bondage where the rope criss-crossed the torso. We had yards of thin rope for a washing line that I intended to put up that weekend. I fetched it, folded it in half and put the loop behind her head, then knotted the two ends between her breasts with figure-eights which I knew wouldn't jamb so that they could be adjusted. Then I paired the ends in another knot below her tits, one near her belly button and a final knot just above her slit. The two ends went between her legs and up and under the loop behind her neck. She looked apprehensive but excited. The ends then went under her armpits, through the space above the top knot to run above her breasts then crossed back behind her. The ends wrapped repeatedly between the spaces between the knots at the front and then crossed behind her. From the front it created a diamond pattern framing and constricting her breasts, belly, and pudenda. I eased the rope between her legs between her outer and inner lips. She could move her limbs, but every movement would feel constrained and make her aware of the rope moving over her body.

I found one of her necklaces that was strung with grape size glass beads. I trapped one end in the lowest knot and let it hang down to brush and tap against her clit as she moved.

I washed up the dinner plates and pans, she dried them and had to stretch and reach to put them away. Many of her stretches were exaggerated to slide the ropes and beads across her body. Her nipples and labia were flushed with blood, but she pretended to ignore them. I was noticeably aroused watching her naked body stretching and arching as we worked. She smirked when she realised that I was watching her watching me. I took her head and pushed it down to my groin. She opened her lips, and I grabbed a handful of her hair and just jackhammered into her mouth until I came. Just selfish of me but she no longer seemed depressed.

We went to bed, Joyce still wearing a rope harness. I used a silky dressing gown cord to thread around the loop near her neck. Both ends passed behind a rail on the headboard and then tied each of her wrists to the ends. Julie could move her hands and arms to rest beside her head but if she pulled them, the movement travelled down to the rope between her legs. When she was on her back, the glass beads rested between the join of her legs. I hoped that she would be aware of being bound and helpless but not be able to relieve her frustration. I was dimly aware of her restlessness during the night. I suspect that she was more aware of the constrictions and limited movement it allowed.

Saturday Morning.

In the morning, I kissed and fondled her before releasing her from the bedhead. "How do you feel?" I asked.

"Frustrated," was her reply. "This is sweet torture. I want you to play with me. I want you to stop. I want to be good. I want to cum. I'm confused. I didn't sleep well. I was thinking about why I was so upset and how you help me deal with it. I'm a bit frightened about what else you are going to do to me for my penitence. I'm suffering but I feel as if I deserve it."

"I read about the punishment that Romans gave to disobedient slaves. It is painful but doesn't harm them. Use the lavatory, but don't play with yourself in the bathroom. You can move the ropes aside to do what you need, but make sure that they are back when you finish. Pain will wait until after breakfast." She looked back at me apprehensively.

Breakfast was fun for me, watching Joyce writhe and stretch, naked in her harness. Not so much fun for her though. After we cleaned up the dishes, I unwrapped Joyce from her rope harness and told her to use the shower hose and give herself an enema, with a warning not to play with herself.

While she was busy in the bathroom, I went outside and cut a few foot-long birch twigs from a young sapling. Each twig was thinner than a strand of spaghetti but strong and flexible. I stripped off the leaves and returned to the kitchen. I was peeling the rind from part of a large piece of raw ginger root into the shape of a tiny penis when Joyce returned and watched me with some trepidation.

"This is going to be painful my love, but it won't damage you. I won't stop if you are crying but, you need to tell me if you can't stand it anymore, only say stop if you believe that you have served your penance. If you just need me to slow down before you feel purged, tell me that...

"Kneel on the chair in the main room, with your head against the chairback and your bum over the front edge of the seat. You can grip the arms of the chair." She moved away and settled on the chair with her bum raised and her head low. I carried the carved ginger root and the birch twigs into the room.

First, I reached under her and wiped the ginger 'penis' around her nipples, which I thought would make them feel warm and tingly. Then I pushed her knees to the edge of the seat and briefly touched the peeled root to her glistening clit, her sharp intake of breath showed that the sensation was much more intense.

I played with her sphincter until she relaxed it and then pushed the moistened root into her bottom. She immediately clenched and then gasped as the gripping caused more of the irritating oil to invade her delicate membranes. The pain must have been significant.

I started to spank her writhing bottom with the birch twigs. As I spanked, she clenched her buttocks. Each clench obviously increased her pain. I spanked again, again she clenched and cried out with tears in her eyes. Her knuckles were white as she gripped the arms of the chair. Her whole body was writhing, and she was gasping and crying. I spanked again resulting in more tears and loud groans. I struck again and she let go of the chair arms and began to vigorously rub the red stripes on her bottom. She raised her head and howled at the ceiling.

I stopped. "Do you want me to stop?"

"Yes, please stop. It hurts so much that I can't think."

"Have you paid your penance? Do you still feel guilty?"

"I don't know."

"Tell me when you feel cleansed." I pushed her head gently back down into the chair seat. She was sobbing uncontrollably but I struck her bottom again and she clenched again. Her sobbing increased. I didn't want to continue but I also didn't want a broken girlfriend.

I eased off the strength of the already moderately light spanks. The burn in her anus was probably more powerful than the stings of the birch twigs, but the spanks made her clench resulting in a very vicious circle of spank, clench, burn, clench. Repeat.

Finally, she gasped, "Enough. Please stop now."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, yes, I'm sure."

"Are any of your parents actions your fault?"

"No."

"Do you feel dirty and guilty?"

"Not now."

"Do you still love me?"

She sobbed loader, "Yes, yes, yes. Please love me."

"Thank God," I exclaimed. "I would hate to punish you more. Let's try and ease that burn in your bum." I eased the vicious root out. I grabbed a bottle of milk and took her into the bathroom. As she knelt, head down in the bath, I wet a flannel with a little milk and wiped around her clit and anus. I used two fingertips to gently prise open her anal ring and dribbled milk between my fingers to seep into her bowels. She sighed contentedly. I unhurriedly encouraged more milk into her.

"That is so cooling and feels wonderful. You have no idea how diabolical that ginger was when you spanked me," she told me breathily. "The burn felt so strong, and the spanks made me grip the damn thing which increased the burn. I was trying so hard not to grip but spanking made that impossible. I hope that I never need another punishment like that. My head is clear now. "Thank you for helping me, I do love you, will you love me please? I need to feel wanted now."

She stood in the bath, and I sponged her down with warm water and then dried her. I was glad to see that the red stripes from the birch twigs were now only a light pink. She squatted over the toilet and expelled the milk and wiped herself. Then she stood and hugged and kissed me passionately, rubbing her body against me. We moved to the bedroom together; Joyce swaying and smiling seductively. She laid down on her back and I kissed her breasts and nipples and was surprised that there was still a lingering taste of ginger on her nipples.

"Can you still feel the burn? Are you okay now?"

She groaned pleasurably. "I like the burn when you're in my bum, but the root burn was much too much. The milk helped a lot, but my clit is still itchy though." I know when to take a hint, so I slid down her body and gently suckled her labia and clit which was met with increasingly satisfied groans.

After her ordeal, I wanted to be gentle, so I lay beside her and hugged, stroked, kissed, and cuddled my lovely girlfriend. She felt my erection nudging against her thigh and reached to stroke it. She whispered, "Will you make love to me please? I need to feel forgiven by you." I kissed her firmly and reminded her that I had nothing to forgive her for.

I rolled on top of her, slid between her legs and taking my weight on my arms, slowly slid into her wet pussy. Her cunt spasmed around me almost immediately and I realised that, apart from the painful spanking, I had been keeping her aroused since the previous evening. I continued to slowly slide in and out of her. She wrapped her legs around my waist and used her heels to pull me deeper. I pushed deeper on the down strokes but kept a slow tempo. She spasmed again and then her hips rose against my weight, and she gasped out a prolonged 'yesssss' before she settled back onto the bed, still pulsing gently around me.