Mary Bruna turns the other cheek

Mary Bruna glared angrily at the passers-by strolling in front of the fairground stall. Woe betide anyone who dared to throw a wet sponge in her face. She was pleased to see that no one was putting money on the counter to buy the right to do so.

Even Trapp, who had taken up position on a raised platform next to her, refrained from shouting invitations to the few people who stopped and looked. The captive nun turned her head so that she could peek at him.

"That fulfills the contract, I guess. The place is open as requested. However, I hardly think anyone will dare throw wet sponges in a nun's face."

She grinned grimly.

"Oh, and if someone did?" asked Trapp slyly.

"Then, as my faith dictates, I would also turn the other cheek."

Trapp raised his eyebrows.

"You'll be able to prove that very soon. With one small change, though. It won't be the cheek you turn, but the butt cheek."

Triumphantly, he took hold of a long lever attached to the side of his pedestal and pulled it forcefully backwards. Mary Bruna was amazed to see the world spinning around her. The whole wall she was stuck in creaked, shook and then went round and round until the front was back and the back was front. Now she looked at the deserted square behind the tents and stalls, while she turned her back to the visitors at the fairground.

It was a little embarrassing now, but by no means a disaster. After all, her long skirts covered her completely, so no one was offered inappropriate views. Well, she would just have to spend the rest of the day in this uncomfortable position. There were worse things. Smugly, she confirmed to herself that she had saved an innocent being through her sacrifice.

Her self-confidence evaporated abruptly, however, when she felt the hems of her skirts being lifted. She kicked her legs, but couldn't prevent them from being exposed. And not only them. It became suspiciously fresh around her bottom as the fabric moved further and further up. A blush rose to her face as she imagined the spectacle she would be presenting to onlookers from the other side.

"Ah, what are you doing? Stop that!"

Her protest went unheeded.

Trapp chuckled happily as he nailed the obstructive fabric to the top edge of the plank wall. Pok, pok, pok, pok. Pleased, he looked at his handiwork. Yes, that was much better and really very nice.

A buxom backside that more than filled the pretty pink and white striped knickers which contained it, stuck out towards the paying guests and truly invited them to serve as a target. He no longer had to advertise, the first sporty young men had already arrived and were digging coins out of their trouser pockets.

Seconds later, the first soaked sponge splashed against Maria Bruna's round bottom and unloaded its wet load. Water dripped over her firm curves, collected in the little ditch between them, soaked the cotton of her panties and ran down her long legs. It was cold and tickled.

And it certainly didn't stop with this one sponge.