Embarrassed, but excited too

"Oh wow, Stephen!" Sandra is still sitting on the knob of the ladder-backed chair. She's no longer grinding against the corner, but she's still pressed against it. "That was ..." she pauses as she searches for the right words. "I've never done or felt anything like that."

"That was wrong." You stammer, as you not to think about what it would feel like to have her sitting on your lap and grinding her crotch against your erection instead of the wooden knob. "I should never have done that." With a sudden flurry of motion Sandra sits up and swings her leg around so her thighs press tightly together. She is still breathing hard and suddenly you realize that you are staring at her breasts straining against her shirt. "I'm sorry." The apology could be for how the run ended for Rae, the way you made her sit on the chair or for how you are staring at her now; maybe it is for all three. Either way you feel your cheeks flushing bright and you turn your attention to gathering your supplies so Sandra can pull herself back together.

"You don't have to apologize, Stephen." You hear the pretty sophomore slide from the desk and she places her hand on your shoulder. "I ask you to play it straight, remember?"

"Was it too much?" You remember just how red her face had gotten as you described how her character was struck again and again. What the Hell were you even thinking? Sandra pulls you around to face her, her breathing is starting to get under control and her face is not as red, but she still looks hot and bothered compared to her normal put-together look.

"It was hard to take." Sandra answers your question with a sincerity that you are not used to. "It wouldn't have been as meaningful if you just glossed over the whipping." She stops your new attempt to apologize before it even starts. "Stop it, Stephen!" Her hand comes to rest on your chest and you wonder if she can feel how fast and hard your heart is beating. "You did exactly what I needed you to do."

"You wanted that to happen?" The words blurt out before you can stop them. Sandra's deep breath lifts her tits against her tightly buttoned blouse, and her hand leaves your chest long enough to wipe away a tear that is just forming at the corner of her eye.

"Not wanted, Stephen, I needed to feel every lash." You must be staring at her in absolute disbelief because she takes your hand in hers and squeezes it tightly. "Ever since I've been a girl I've had these weird fantasies ... wicked, sinful fantasies ... " Sandra shakes her head making the long brown curls dance, "When I was still in Hebrew school getting ready for my Bat Mitzvah we learned about the Spanish Inquisition and how they rounded up suspected Marranos and tortured them into confessions." You remember a two page description about the **** conversions of Jews in Spain, but clearly Sandra was given a much more in-depth picture of this period.

"We read a story about a young girl, just a few years older than I was at the time, who was raised thinking she was a devout Christian only to find out that her family were still secretly practicing Jews." You're not sure where this is going, but Sandra deserves your full attention so you listen as she rambles on softly. "The Converso family was betrayed by one of their servants, and the whole family had to flee in secrecy to Amsterdam ... not all their friends were as lucky. There was a picture," she pauses clearly still affected by this experience, "there was a drawing of a beautiful young woman with dark hair like mine, chained to the wall of a dark cell waiting to be questioned by the inquisition that I could stop looking at."

(Art by tibool)

"In the public library I found other books too. Adult books, not meant for young eyes." Sandra is speaking even faster now, it is as if a dam of repressed guilt is all pouring out. "The books referred to young Spanish maidens entering the dungeons and then reemerging months later with their bellies swollen in pregnancy. There were more pictures too. Illustrations showing victims hanging from overhead beams and an inquisitor with a whip ... young women stripped of their clothes as they were questioned in the dungeons." Her words trail off again and you cannot help but compare the images she is describing to the sketches you saw in her notebook.

"That must have been pretty scary for a young teenager." You offer, trying to figure a way out of this mess.

"It should have been, Stephen, but I wasn't scared. I didn't even know what the tingling between my legs meant at the time, or why my breasts suddenly felt so funny, but I was excited, sexually excited." She takes another deep breath and then goes on to describe how she imagined what it would be like to be one of the young maidens taken by the inquisition. "I was too young to know about masturbation, but I ran my hands over my newly budding breasts and between my thighs and I could feel a tingling ... imagining that it was me being groped by the dreaded interrogators."

"So, what happened tonight?" You ask quietly, wondering how anyone as sweet and serious as Sandra could have dark fantasies like that.

"It was all my fault, Stephen. I wanted Rae to be used like that." She whispers softly, "I wanted her to be stripped and chained, in front of everyone. That's why I agreed to the party's plan to pass Vivian and I off as captured slaves." Her voice gets louder once this secret is out, "and why I didn't mind that she'd have to be publicly punished when she finally surrendered."