Punishment

Bernard didn't want to take off his shirt, but she virtually gave him ****. She undid button after button and finally slipped the garment over his shoulders, from where it fell to the floor, rustling softly.

It felt strange. He had never stood bare-chested in a church before. It seemed disrespectful to him. The cool air flowing in through the open portal made his skin crawl.

“Why are you doing this?” he asked. The trembling in his voice wasn't just from the cold. He was overcome by a strange fear. His visitor was definitely more than she seemed at first glance. She posed a danger that was difficult to comprehend. His mind told Bernard that he should send her away. That would be the best thing for his physical and spiritual well-being.

But he couldn't bring himself to let her go. He had waited too long for the time when he would no longer be alone.

She ignored his question. Instead, she ran both her hands over his chest, downwards, tracing the contours of his young body until she reached the waistband of his trousers. She skillfully undid his belt and pulled it out with a tug.

He knew this was wrong. Nevertheless, he didn't resist. Her gaze captivated him, he lost himself in her deep black eyes. Inside him, a voice cried out for help, but he could no longer hear it.

The woman walked contemptuously around him on her high heels. She had folded his belt into a loop and let it slap threateningly in her hand. Bernard already suspected what was coming. But he couldn't say anything, couldn't run away or fight back. As if spellbound, he simply stood upright and waited.

The first blow was not unexpected, but it did come as a surprise. The leather whistled through the air and hit him across his bare back. He gasped, more from shock than pain.

The pain was delayed. His skin burned like fire where the blow had hit him. Without being able to see it, he was sure a red welt was forming.

However, he didn't have much time to think about it. A second blow came down on him. Then a third.

“Why?” he pressed out between clenched teeth.

Instead of an answer, she asked a reciprocal question: “Don't you like it?”

He fell silent. He felt caught out. He was ashamed. Yes, he admitted to himself silently, he welcomed the beatings. He accepted them as punishment. As punishment for accepting the beatings.

He was ashamed that he had allowed himself to be chastised by a woman in his church. And that his body reacted to it in a way that it should no longer react to a woman since he had taken his vow of chastity.

He waited, trembling, to see what would happen next. No blow followed. Instead, he heard soft sounds, like fabric sliding over fabric, like fabric sliding over skin. Without having to see it, he knew that she was undressing behind him.