The hole

The only mercy that Christine was given is that her face was covered with a heavy leather sack, so she did not have to see all the people gawking at her. The thick leather hood was buckled tightly around her neck and only the small holes augured out near her mouth allowed her to breathe. The bag smelled of sweat and fear, and somehow Christine knew that she was not the first young woman to be hooded like this and dragged off to the Bishop of Oldchester's private dungeon. She could hear the laughter of the crowd as her nearly naked body was manhandled through the streets. The crude catcalls from the men and the shrewish taunting from their women would have been too much for her to bear if she had been able to see the faces of the cityfolk mocking her. With each stumbling step she was led further and further away from the very Cathedral where she had hoped to find sanctuary.

Thankfully, the jeering throng gradually dissipated and soon after she was jerked to a stop. She could hear her escort greeting colleagues outside an alley that was so narrow she could no longer feel the sunlight on her bare arms and legs. There was the creak of a heavy gate opening and she was pushed to the floor of a dark chamber.

"The Master wants this one stewin' in the hole for a day or two." The man on her right announced as he pushed her forward. "She be a little feisty fo' his tastes. Wants her nice an' docile next time he come."

"Look at this hot little doxy." A different man answered, his gravelly voice no less crude than the guard's although lacked the Northerner's distinctive brogue. "I can see why the Master likes this one. She looks fresh and sweet and her skin is soft like butter, this isn't some gutter whore." Christine can feel the man approaching until he is just in front of her. "She still got her cherry?"

"Reckon so." It was the other guard who spoke this time, and for some reason she felt he was more sympathetic than the others. "Don't go messing about with what be getting you hung."

"Too bad too." The new man laughed knowingly. "By the time we get a crack at his toys they're not half as sweet as they were when they first get here." There was a short pause where nothing seemed to be happening, but then she was picked up by her arms and set on her feet as easily as if she were a toddler. "Well, at least we get to see the goods, even if we can't sample them." As the man spoke, Christine could feel his hands deftly unbuckling her hood, and then with more care than she would have expected, the leather sack was lifted gently off her head, and she stood blinking in the light of small high window in a small circular room.

The three men were standing around her with eager grins on their faces; two were the bishop's guardsmen with their distinctive red cloaks and silver breastplates. The other man was older, with grey hair neatly tied back in a braid and a clean-shaven face. Judging by the thickness of his jerkin and the cut of his sleeves, he was a cut above the other two in station. The man had an air of experience, possibly an officer although he wore no uniform. Any hope she had that he might be more lenient was dashed even before she could open her mouth.

"Well lads, get her out of her clothes. Let's see what we got here." The two guardsmen slowly removed their armored gauntlets allowing Christine time to back away slowly until her back was against the rough-cut stones of the wall. But there was nowhere else to run, and the two Cathedral guardsmen closed with her from either side. "Careful, Boys, that's a nicely sewn shift. We don't want to rip it as it comes off."

In spite of her frantic attempt to stop them, the guards easily caught her arms and pulled them up high while the third man lifted her cotton smallshirt up over her head exposing every last inch of her naked body. The men worked with practiced teamwork that spoke of lots of practice at this horrific act.

"Damn, this one is nice, Sir." One of the guards muttered in admiration as they checked out her naked body.

"I told you. This is no peasant girl run away from her step daddy." The older man chuckled appreciatively, "This bitch's skin is soft and smooth like a baby's!" For the next three or four minutes, all three men were touching her, and no matter how hard she tried she could not stop them from groping her all over until the older man put an end to it. "That's enough playing. We don't want to leave any bruises."

As quickly as it started the grinning men stepped back and put their gauntlets back on and then with a quick salute left the room closing the heavy door behind them with a solid 'clunk'. Now that she was left naked and alone with this grey-haired man Christine feared the worst was yet to come, but the officer tossed a worn sackcloth tunic at her feet.

"Get some clothes on, Girl. And if you're thinking about complaining to the man who sent you here, I'd keep your pretty lips sealed if you know what's good for you." The tunic was a dirty rag that a beggar might wear that barely closed in front, but all the same Christine was happy to cover herself.

As she dressed in the rough garment, the man pulled open a trap door set into the floor and Christine could see steep steps leading down into the darkness.

"Please Sir, there has been a terrible mistake." Christine tried to explain, "my name is Ch-"

"No names!" The man cut her off before she could even get started. "I don't want to know who you are, and I certainly don't want you to know who I am." The scowl on his face was enough to silence her. She searched his dark eyes silently looking for any sign of mercy and found nothing but emptiness.

"Welcome to 'the hole', my dear." The man's laugh was bleak. "After a day or two down here, you'll be begging our Master to let you serve him." There was no point in struggling. Christine let the goaler lead her down into the cell below and lock her wrists in manacles that were hanging from the wall waiting for their next victim. The floor was damp and cold, with just a little straw scattered about, but Christine settled on her haunches as best she could with her arms chained to the wall.

When the trap door closed above her head Christine found herself in almost complete blackness. Just when she thought it couldn't get any worse, she heard the scritching of little claws moving around her in the blackness. Mice, or rats ... Christine pulled her feet under her and started a **** prayer.

"Oh, Mother Mary, Savior of the lost, I need you now like never before!"