The Training Dildo

I quickly flipped the book back several pages, noticing that one entry was significantly longer than the others. I read it.

“Holy Goddess… There’s something terrible happening in the abbey and I don’t understand it! I don’t know if I even dare write about it lest some foul demon spawn of Fenrir sense it and the words themselves bring ruin down on me… No… I must write, and if I die perhaps someone will find this journal and save our abbey from defilement.”

My eyes widened as I kept reading.

“It was after the initiation ceremony yesterday. I was exploring new parts of the abbey that I hadn’t been privy to before when I heard a strange gasping from one of the rooms in the lower dungeons. I assumed someone was in trouble and quickly approached to render aid, and I was right… but what I saw shocked me into inaction.”

What I read next sent a chill down my spine and I quite nearly cried out.

“Sister Rosalia, one of the initiates a year ahead of me who had tutored me in my sword play, lay tied to a table, naked, her arms and legs tied to wooden posts, her womanhood was wet and leaking. I remember it smelled like sweet perfume. The sight froze me in place at the door, peeping in through a gap in the wood. Then I saw her, Senior Sister Constance, our swordmaster, standing over Rosalia with a long, black object in one hand…”

“Focus! You are a Red Riding Hood!” Constance snapped, slapping Rosalia’s plump right breast. The young woman on the table bit her kip and tried to stifle what sounded like a cry of pain… and something else.

“Now, we go again, focus!” The older woman, also naked, bent over Rosalia’s buxom young form and rubbed the oddly shaped black cylinder against her womanhood.

Rosalia went perfectly still, breathing shallowly, arms and legs trembling slightly.

“Good,” Constance spoke, then took the cylinder away and moved it down to Rosalias little rosebud, which was even now distended slightly. “Now the second part, again.”

Constance placed two fingers against Rosalia’s womanhood and began to move them in slow, deliberate circles. Rosalia gasped, eyes widening as Constance pushed the cylinder intruder against her rosebud, having already lubricated it with the young Riding Hood’s own juices.

Charity watched form the hallway, stunned as Constance began to move the black thing in and out of Rosalia’s asshole in slow, rhythmic thrusts in time with the circling of her fingers. Charity felt her womanhood grow hot and moist, feelings she’d been taught for months to suppress, but in her shock she didn’t notice them as they grew.

“All you have to do, is resist your climax!” Constance spoke softly, quickening her ministrations on the helpless Rosalia as the girl twitched and jerked, biting her lip until Charity saw blood on her teeth.

“Are you close?” Constance asked, shoving the training dildo hard into Rosalia’s asshole.

The girl shook her head, tears springing to her eyes.

“Sister Rosalia, are you about to cum?” Constance asked again, her fingers flicking and pinching Rosalia’s little bud. The girl thrashed and a moan escaped her lips but she shook her head again.

Climax? Cum? Charity felt her hand slide down into her skirt, unbidden, following the example that Sister Constance was setting on Rosalia’s sodden cunt. The feeling was immediate and pleasureful, she bit her own lip to keep silent, staring at what was happening.