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Dawn of Dusk - Part 2: Nun - Chapter 10b: More Work, Prayer and Chastisement

© 2009 - 2021 Nameless

As on the previous day, I was woken by loud knocking on the cell "door". I groaned and struggled to wake up while I crawled out of my sleeping hole and stood next to the door. Two girls took too long to get up and received a painful spanking.

The gray sister led us across the yard to a big room, one of the "chapels". According to them, it was not a proper chapel (apparently it lacked the required sanctification), but it would do for us sinners.

We had to take off the robes and kneel on one of the flagstones. Each of us knelt on one of the flagstones so that we were evenly spaced. Then we recited the litany three times, thankfully without having to use floggers. From then on (until I was finally promoted to a gray robe) we had to flog ourselves every two or three days, the other days we only recited the litany.

As best as I could tell, they did it this way because they had only a limited number of floggers (at least of those grades that would not cripple us in short order and they did not want to have to perform this exercise in two or more shifts.

Afterwards we received our meager breakfast and then we were taken to perform our various tasks. I was led outside with three others. Outside of the section for sinners, that is, not outside the cloister. But today we did not help with the harvest but operated the well. Much like in the chapter-house in Marenbruk, we were locked into the yokes and then we had to walk around in a circle. We did that without pause for about two bells. As far as I could tell, the well operated round the clock and only stopped to change the "draft animals" every two bells. We were occasionally woken at night to perform this duty and we always had to perform this task for a two hour shift.

When we were done and the next group turned the wheel, we received a cup of water and then we were sent back, collecting the usual spanking as we entered the sinner's gate.

I spent the next bell or so cleaning the floor tiles, same as I had yesterday. With the tiny broom it was hard work and by the end my back hurt. Afterwards we received a little water and were allowed to relieve ourselves. Then we left through the sinner's gate once more. Outside we were tied up and the flaps of our hoods were tied together to blindfold us partially. Then we were hitched to a wagon and had to bring in two more loads of produce, which took most of the afternoon. We received some water and a bit of food and then we entered the sinner's gate once more, submitting to the usual spanking.

Inside our small group was broken up. While I had to carry stones in the yard, the others were taken to the big barn for some other duties. After the usual prayers we were taken to the "chapel" where we had to recite the litany and then spent the next bell practicing other lengthy prayers which we were supposed to memorize. The gray sister warned us that we would be tested on how well we knew them in a few days. She did not specify what would happen if we failed to recite them properly, but the evil grin on her face left no doubt that it would not be fun, at least not for us.

I think it was on the fifth day that I had to give my first confession while in the cloister. It was late afternoon when we, a group of eight sinners passed through the sinner's gate and were taken (tied up and partially blindfolded) to the confession room. It was attached to a chapel used mostly by gray sisters to recite the litany, often with floggers, and to hold vigil. It contained eight pillories and thus we were always taken there in groups of eight. The pillories differed in height, those closest to the door were the highest and easiest to stand in, those at the rear the lowest, reserved for those who had the worst sins to confess. Which is where we furs tended to end up. This time I drew the third lowest.

At the direction of the gray sister in charge, we took off our robes. Then we stepped up to the pillory and placed our feet in the cutouts for them. The other two gray sisters attached the rear sections to lock our feet in place. They also tied the tip of my tail to the board so I could not lift it to expose myself unseemly.

They handed each of us a leather hood and a T-shaped piece of wood with two strings. The piece of wood was actually a gag, I had to put the long piece into my mouth and bite down on the crossbar.

The gray sister explained that we would only be able to hear or talk to someone touching us while we wore the hood to keep the confession confidential. Then I put on the hood. As soon as it wrapped around my I became completely deaf. One of the sisters tightened the straps and tied the strings of the gag around my neck. The straps were tight enough that the mask hurt, but thankfully it did not hurt much. Then she guided me into the cutouts for my head and arms and lowered the top to lock me in place.

Then they left and I had to wait in the darkness. The wooden boards that arrested our head and arms were made of relatively thin wood. This was not much a problem in the higher pillories where you could stand reasonably straight, but in the lower ones you had to bend forward very far, which meant that you had to support a lot of weight with your arms which made your wrists hurt quickly. And the muscles in your arms and back as well.

While the hood did indeed strike me completely blind and deaf, it did not affect my sense of smell. Not long after I was locked into the pillory I noticed a new scent, a male one. Without any other clues it was a bit difficult to tell, but from what I could tell, he started taking confessions at the door and then worked his way down the line.

The scent of the male got stronger little by little as he came closer. I could not be entirely certain, but he smelled as if he was aroused. Eventually it was my turn. Suddenly I felt hands touch the back of my head and untie the rope that secured the gag in my muzzle. Soon the gag was removed and I tried to work some life back into my aching jaws and numb tongue. The priest stood directly in front of me (I could smell him) and rested his hands on my head. "My child, tell me of your sins. Admit your sins, repent, make penance and have them absolved."

I swallowed a few times and tried to think of what to say. From the way he asked the question I became sure that he expected me to come up with something, that he would most likely not believe me if I claimed not to have sinned since the last confession.

The mask was so tight that it restricted the movement of my jaw. My speech was intelligible if far from clear, "Saints, forgive me for I have sinned. Father forgive me my sins." The largely ritual opening sentences out of the way, I went on,

"I have had lustful thoughts about a male-a man. I dreamed that he would take me in his arms, remove my clothing and kiss me." I went on and on, talking about my fantasies involving a male in great if somewhat imaginary detail. Had I told him my real thoughts, hopes and fantasies on this matter, I had little doubt my punishment would have been extreme and quite possibly fatal.

Once the tale of my imaginary lover was over, I received the usual punishments: A spanking with a cane and I was told to recite the litany twice using Lucifer.

Then he put the gag back in and moved on to the next in line. When he was done we were released and taken back to the sinner's section and then to the dungeon to perform the second part of our punishments.

At first I had cursed the hot weather for making the exhausting tasks miserable, but it did not take long for me to change my mind. The warm weather had held steady for most of the harvest time, but about two weeks after I came to the cloister I got the first taste of what life would be like in the cold season.

At first the day had looked much like the ones before, but by mid-morning clouds began to appear. But rather than cool down the air seemed to get even hotter and then more humid as well. Shortly after noon (not that noon meant much to us, as we only received two meals a day) the wind stopped completely and the aid became impossibly stuffy. By then the sky was mostly overcast, at least the rays of the sun did not add their heat to the mix, otherwise I (any many others) would likely have passed out from the heat. We did receive a little more water than usual, but still much less than we would have needed.

And then, shortly after the prayer at the second bell in the afternoon, the weather changed again. Suddenly the wind picked up and the gusts of cooler air interrupted the stuffy heat, occasionally at first, but then they became much more frequent. By now I was quite certain that a thunderstorm was approaching, but I was really glad to be able to cool down a little.

There was a sudden rumble of thunder and we all stopped and looked at the gray sister who supervised our senseless toil. She just looked at us and shouted, "Keep going! Anyone who stops without permission will be punished!"

And so we went back to our task. Within minutes the clouds turned black, and now we could see lightning (still far off at first) in addition to hearing the thunder. I counted the time and realized that the storm was coming closer quickly.

When the first drops of rain began to fall the gray sister moved from her usual spot to a doorway not far away, from where she could watch us without getting wet.

Barely a minute later it really began to pour to the point where I could barely see where I was supposed to go. I wondered if the gray sister or the two black sisters who assisted her could really tell what we were doing. But even so I did not dare to slack off as I had little doubt that they were just waiting for us to try to take advantage of the decreased visibility and that they would punish anyone they caught harshly.

The woolen robes we wore were actually pretty decent bad weather wear and initially shed the water quite well. But they were not actual bad weather gear and in such a heavy rain it did not take long before they became soaked. And once the robe was wet, it took very little time before my fur was soaked as well. By now the temperature had dropped drastically and quickly any thought of slacking was gone as the back breaking work of hauling heavy rocks was the only thing that kept me from freezing through and through.

The thunderstorm was terrifying as well, the lightning strikes came closer and closer. I almost jumped out of my fur when a bolt hit the church tower. I was almost deafened by the thunderclap. Thankfully I was not carrying a rock at that moment. Several others dropped the rocks they were carrying at that moment and one girl hurt her foot so badly that she could not walk any more. I could not see who it was as she dropped close to the third corner of the triangle. Two other sisters led or carried her away. I never found out what happened to her.

The gray sister and her two helpers screamed at us to keep working and so we resumed our task. Thankfully the worst of the thunderstorm passed rather quickly. After that the rain lessened a bit but it did not stop. We had to keep at it for more than a bell before we were finally allowed to get out of the rain.

I was more than a little surprised when we went to a washing room where we took off the robes. Each one of us received a towel to dry off. Or, in my case, get the fur from soaked to merely wet, as the towel was not very big and rather threadbare. Afterwards we received fresh and dry robes and then we headed to the commissary, where each of us received a mug of a foul smelling (and tasting) concoction that they called "Saint's blessing". But while it tasted so vile I could barely get it down, it did warm me up. In retrospect I doubt that they did that out of any sense of mercy, but mainly so we would not fall ill.

As the weather worsened so did the conditions under which we had to live and perform our generally senseless tasks. They did give us a few extra clothes to help keep us from freezing when the weather became really bad, but not nearly enough. First we received an extra reed mat and later a second blanket to keep us from freezing completely at night. We could also block the small "window" with a wooden block, which reduced the draft in our kennels, but the air became very stuffy when we blocked the little "window" all night.

Later we received a sleeveless undershirt made of the same rough wool as the robes. On the coldest days we were also allowed to wear wooden clogs, but only outdoors. We also did more indoor activities, mainly in the big shed. There was not much difference between working indoors or outdoors, except that we were mostly out of the wind and packed closer together. For example there were four piles of rocks for us to carry around indoors.

And we also spent more time on "spiritual" exercises like memorizing long prayers and the like. I could not tell if that was because of the weather or because we advanced in the ranks. Probably a bit of both.

Winter was a very harsh time for us and more than a few of us fell ill and some even died from it. It was difficult for me to keep track, but I estimated that as much as one in ten of us black robes died during that one winter.

As I received additional gray stripes, I spent more and more time learning prayers and the like. I hesitate to call it "lore" because there was hardly any real knowledge involved and certainly no information on how the different pieces of information related to each other and the like.

They never said anything outright, but to me it became clear quickly enough that learning to recite the prayers flawlessly was one if not the major criteria for advancing. Performing the other tasks willingly and volunteering for extra duties allowed you to take the tests, but if you failed them you did not advance. To make things a little less obvious for us, we usually did not receive a promotion until a day or three after we had passed the tests.

Earning the fifth stripe brought a noticeable change in my status and duties. To make the difference between the lower and the higher group visually noticeable the gap between the fourth and fifth stripe was wider than between the others. Things did not get a whole lot better, but anything that made my life a little better was good.

My hard work and the pain I submitted to paid off and I was (as far as I could tell) the first fur from our group who earned the fifth stripe, though several human girls earned it before I did.

One very welcome change was the sleeping arrangements. We still slept in what I could only call "kennels", but the the kennels for the "upper half" of us were on the inner side of the wall (where the sun warmed the bricks a little). The rooms had a slightly larger "window" and they were a little bigger, about a foot in each direction. Seven by four by four was still hardly merited the title "room", but the extra foot in height was very welcome as I could now at least sit up without knocking my head on the ceiling. The most important improvement was the "mattress", which while still not meriting that name, now had a couple of inches of straw between the two reed mats, which made it noticeably softer and warmer.

And my duties changed as well and I began to assist the higher ranking sisters. My favorite part was working in the kitchen. It was a far cry from how things had been at home and the superior sisters did their best to make the work as unpleasant as possible for us, we had to either be completely silent, except for what was absolutely necessary to perform the work or we had to recite the litany or other prayers. Sometimes I had to peel vegetables for hours while standing or kneeling directly in front of a wall, but at least the work made some sense to me. And the kitchen was the warmest room in our section of the cloister since they could hardly cook without a fire in the stove.

Leading the recitation of the litany or prayer was less pleasant. And the worst part was supervising the lower ranking sinners or, worse, punishing them. I really wanted to go easy on them, but I did not dare to do that, at least not in any obvious way. I had seen more than once what happened if a gray sister caught one of us slacking in this duty and I did not dare to risk the same happening to me.

According to the sisterhood's crazy (to my mind) philosophy punishing someone who shirked her duties was the greatest gift one could give her and therefore going easy was a terrible sin. Not only did you shirk your own duty, but you also hurt your sister by robbing her of the encouragement to better herself. A few times one of the low ranking sisters even reported that she had (supposedly) been subjected to an unreasonably lenient punishment to a superior sister.

But no matter how much I hated to punish others, it was clear that I had to do it, perhaps even had to excel at it, if I wanted to advance in ranks.

Every now and then I wondered what I hated most about my situation (apart from having to punish others who were even worse off than me). I could never decide on a single thing, too many were crowding each other right at the top of the list. But one of the worst was undoubtedly the confessions. I hated having to lie, to come up with imaginary failings and then get punished for them. And the priest enjoyed what he did to us, even got off on it. I could smell his arousal clearly during every confession and tasted his seed more than once. I found that immensely unfair. I wondered what kind of strange mental acrobatics it took for him to reconcile that with his vows. True, I had no idea what exactly his vows had been, but given what he preached. Just trying to reconcile those two made my head hurt.

And I really wanted, needed to talk to someone about everything that bothered me. All my life I had been able to talk to my parents and, if I wanted a different perspective, I could talk to our priestess or one of her helpers. And I could do so without fear. True, I had been punished a few times for telling them when I had done something light. But even then I never had to be afraid of them or the punishment. They had always calmly and clearly explained what I had done wrong and why I was being punished and I had never doubted for a moment that they loved me. The punishments had never been severe, just enough to drive home the point that I should remember and do better in the future. But here... I simply was not used to be completely alone in the middle of so many people.

But here I did not dare to talk to anyone. The repeated injunctions against it made me leery and I did not know anyone here well enough to trust her. Eventually I would probably have found someone I trusted enough or have become desperate enough. If someone else had not made the mistake first and confided in one of her sisters first. And got punished for it, punished terribly. After that I gave up on the idea, just the memory of the punishment was enough to make me shiver with terror:

When it happened I had earned six gray stripes and expected to receive the next any day now. It was the middle of the afternoon and I was dusting tiles in the yard for what felt like the hundredth time when a gray sister told us to put the brooms away and to go through the sinner's gate. At that point a number of us had already headed that way and I was beginning to wonder what was up.

We did as commanded, put the brooms away and headed there. I waited my turn, knelt in the opening and lifted my robe so the two gate guards could spank me before I moved on. A number of gray sisters met us on the other side and tied my paws to the back of the belt that was part of the robe. That much was normal and expected. What was unusual was that they also hobbled me with a very short rope, barely a foot long, and then pushed down the hood so that my head was out in the open.

When one of the gray sisters led a group of us away I got the idea what was about to happen, as something similar had happened before. She led us to the big square next to the temple. And yes, sure enough, several people were on the platform that was occasionally used for the most serious public punishments.

In the center, locked into the pillory and facing us was the unfortunate soul. She wore a mask like the ones we always wore during a confession or when offering "comfort" to the soldiers and nothing else. Her robe hung on a peg not far away and I could see that it was a black one with several gray stripes. Eight, if I counted correctly. Around her stood several white sisters.

A number of us already knelt in front of the platform, arranged in semi-circles so we could watch the proceedings. We were led there and several gray sisters helped us kneel. The hobbles were too short to do kneel on our own without falling over and would make it almost impossible to stand up without help. The broken ground there hurt my shins, but by now I had learned to ignore the pain or at least appear to.

We waited while more of us arrived and soon I realized that all or almost all of us sinners were there. Then the gray sisters began to arrive. Those who had black stripes went down on one knee behind us while the others stood. Then the white sisters as well, until I was certain that everybody in the cloister was there, apart from the males (though a few guards probably watched from the top of the walls or towers).

As usual the abbess and the other superior sisters arrived last and with them came the priest, Father Mike. The abbess, Sisters Theresa and Lina, her enforcers and the Father climbed up on the platform while the other high ranking white sisters sat down in the chairs reserved for their use that stood on either side of the square.

When the abbess turned to us, all noise stopped and for a moment I feared that I had been struck deaf. The assembled sisters had not made a lot of noise before as most of the low ranking sisters did not dare to open their mouths at such an assembly, but for a moment it seemed that all of us held their breath and even the wind seemed to stop for a moment.

Then that moment was over and she began, "This sinner stands accused of having revealed secrets entrusted to her during confession. I can't say anything more, as this would only reveal more secrets protected by the confidence of confession." She turned to the priest, "Father can you question the accused to verify the accusations?"

"Of course, Mother." He pulled out a small book and leafed through it. When he had found what he wanted, he began to read. As he spoke the holy tongue I could not understand anything and even the words he used slipped from my memory in moments. The only thing I remembered clearly was that the name "Gabriel" came up several time, not surprisingly as Gabriel was the archangel in charge of justice.

Towards the end of the spell he put a hand on the accused sister. Then he asked, "Sinner, you stand accused to have revealed secrets protected by the sanctity and confidence of a confession. Is this true?"

She did not answer at first and for a few moments nothing happened, but then her hands and then her whole body began to tremble.

When she still did not say anything, the priest asked once more, "Sinner, have you spoken about anything that happened or was revealed during a confession. In the name of Gabriel, answer me."

Whatever the spell did to her became too much to bear and she answered, "Yes." Having admitted that, she tried to say more, even with the mask concealing most of her face I could see her jaw move, but no sound came from her mouth.

I along with everybody else had held my breath without even noticing it and suddenly began to breathe again.

He released the sinner's shoulders and turned towards the abbess, "There you have it, Mother. This sinner has admitted to having revealed secrets intended for the saint's ears alone. This is a grave sin, even a mortal sin. Only the most severe penance can save her soul from such a sin, if she can be saved at all. If it were up to me, I would entrust her fate to the inquisition, but as she is a member of the sisterhood of Mother Juanita and a member of this cloister, her fate is up to you to decide, holy Mother."

"We do take care of our own." She most definitely did not say "we care for our own", she sounded more like a crime boss taking care of a "problem" in a very final way. "Thank you for your help, Father."

"I am always glad to help." With that he turned around, climbed down from the platform and left.

The abbess waited until he had left before she turned to the sisters who guarded the unlucky sinner. She gave them a command that I could not make out. They opened the pillory and helped the sinner take off her mask. They made her put on her robe and tied up her hands behind the back. I recognized her as a girl from Savan. I did not know her well, but I had spent one night in a stall with her during the march. If I remembered correctly, her original name had been Margarita or something like that.

The two sisters made her face the abbess, who looked at her for a long moment and then asked, "Sinner, do you realize the gravity of the sin you have committed?"

The poor girl was clearly terrified. It took her a few tries to be able to answer, "Yes, Mother."

"This is not a sin a sister of our order can bear. Do you wish to remain a member of the sisterhood of Mother Juanita?" To underscore the gravity of the question and to bring to mind of the consequences, the abbess touched her left breast, where she bore the brand of a noose, reminding her that she would be hanged if she left the sisterhood.

"Yes, Mother. I wish to remain in the sisterhood." The abbess looked at her and she finally realized what she wanted, "I beg to be disciplined, Mother. I will accept whatever penance and punishment you proscribe."

"Very well. Do you realize that your penance will be very harsh and painful?"

"Yes, Mother, I do understand. Please punish me. May the saints have mercy with me."

"So be it. First, you have shown yourself to be a sinner of the worst sort. What little favor you have earned in the saints' eyes has been lost." She turned to Sister Theresa who waited nearby and commanded, "Remove all the stripes she has already earned."

"Yes, Mother." Sister Theresa approached the sinner and slowly removed the gray stripes one by one. The unfortunate girl managed to stand still, though I could see her tremble. It would take at least three months of abuse to regain those or much longer then the ranking sisters wanted her to suffer.

Which seemed likely, "You have abused our trust with this, sinner. We will watch you very carefully and it will be a hard struggle to earn forgiveness."

"I understand, Mother."

"You may ask all the archangels for forgiveness today, from Anita to Uriel, by reciting the litany for each of them. Without protection and with our help, if you so wish."

It took all of us (except for the senior sisters who had no doubt watched similar punishments) a bit to make sense of that. The unlucky girl's eyes widened and a little squeak of terror escaped her lips. I didn't know what the abbess meant by "without protection and with our help" but it did not bode well. But the terrible thing was that she was supposed to recite the litany eight times, each time with a worse flogger, from the relatively soft "Anita" to the terrible "Uriel" with heavy lead pellets tied to the strands.

For a moment I wondered if she would even survive such abuse but then the abbess added, "You will wear a prayer collar, of course."

She swallowed hard and after several attempts managed to say, "Yes, Mother, please help me."

"Good. This will be your penance for today. There will be further penance in the future as we test you to be certain that you have learned to better yourself."

"Yes, Mother."

"Sister Theresa?"

"Yes, Mother?"

"Please help this sinner prepare for her ordeal."

The grin on Sister Theresa's lips sent a shiver down my spine. And I was far from the only one who felt that chill. And I was not even the target of her abuse, for now at least.

On either side of the two pillories in the center of the platform were two poles to tie someone to. Sister Theresa led her victim to the pair on the left (as seen from where I knelt). The two white sister who had guarded her untied her arms and then helped her take off the robe.

Sister Lina produced the collar and handed it to the sinner. She kissed it, put it on and then spoke the ritual words to activate its magic, "Saints give me the strength to face my ordeal. Give me the fortitude to bear the pain. And the wisdom to learn from it." She shivered as the magic of the collar activated and drained a bit of her energy.

The two sisters put leather cuffs on her wrists and sealed them with a short prayer. They tied ropes to them and threaded them through rings set into the poles. The two poles were about nine foot high and had rings set into them about a foot apart. The ropes went through the second ring from the top, about eight foot above the ground. Three more sisters helped pull on each rope until the sinner hung from her wrists with her feet almost a foot above the ground.

Sister Theresa touched the sinner's chastity belt, spoke a short prayer and removed it. Suddenly I realized what the abbess had meant by "without protection" and shuddered. To make things even worse for her, they put cuffs with ropes on her ankles and then tied those to another set of rings on the poles, spreading her legs very wide.

The abbess turned to us and said, "What is about to follow might seem gruesome to some of you. But it is an important part of our way of serving the saints and angels. When we commit a sin or even just make a small mistake, then we take responsibility for it and make amends and submit to penance. All of us. And when we make serious mistakes or commit a grave sin, that penance can be can be extreme. But no matter how bad it might seem, it is not something to be afraid of, except to remind us not to make such mistakes again, but something to be welcomed."

She looked us over and then went on, "It is your duty to help your sisters make penance. Either directly by wielding the instruments of that penance or by bearing witness. Or by joining her in her hour of need." She waited for a moment, "You will not look away. Those who will not see will feel." She turned her head to look at the second pair of poles to ensure that all of us got the point.

Suddenly I understood why we did not wear the hood: so the superior sisters watching us could tell more easily if we looked at the unfortunate sinner or closed our eyes or turned the head away.

We had to wait a minute or two until two sisters brought the floggers. They hung the two sets of floggers on a board at the rear of the platform for all to see. Then they picked the softest ones, "Anita" and passed them to sisters Theresa and Lina. The two took up stations in front and at the rear of the sinner.

The abbess recited a short prayer, asking the saints to bear witness, help the sinner learn from her ordeal and such. Then she began to recite the litany, "Holy Mother Juanita, show us the way to redeem our sins. Let us cleanse our souls through work and prayer. Guide us to heaven through hardship and pain."

"Holy Mother Juanita guide us." Whack! Sisters Theresa and Lina both hit the unfortunate girl, one hit her back and the other her front.

"Holy Uriel, command us to serve you. Give us work to show our worth. Bless our efforts if you find them pleasing."

"Holy Uriel command us." Whack!

"Holy Gabriel, judge our worth. Judge our work and our prayers. If it pleases you, judge us worthy to enter heaven at the end of our days."

"Holy Gabriel judge us."

The two really laid into it. For now the sinner managed to speak her lines and keep from screaming, but I doubted that it would last long. The screams of pain came soon, once the two began to hit the really sensitive parts in addition to the rest of her body. I winced each time a flogger hit her breasts or her flower. Sister Lina hit her between the legs several times, letting the strands wrap around so the ends punished her petals and even dug into the really sensitive skin inside her.

With the help of the collar the sinner managed to speak the responses until the first litany was over. Two other white sisters took their places next to the unfortunate sinner with the next higher grade of floggers, "Belial" in their hands.

Sister Lina began the second recitation of the litany. It became a struggle not to look away. I shuddered with every stoke. And I could tell that the pain became significantly worse for the unfortunate sinner. The collar she wore would make sure that she did not pass out and prevent her from bleeding out. The wounds she received would leave few scars and heal up, eventually. If they left the collar on her overnight, it would accelerate her healing, but only to the point that the wounds were closed and that they did not get infected. Her skin would remain sensitive to the slightest touch for days. Just wearing her habit, made out of rough wool, would be torturous.

She managed to say the responses for most of the second recitation but towards the end she had to struggle not to scream with every stroke. By the middle of the third recitation she did not even manage that. The collar muted her screams a little, so they never rose above the level of loud speech, but even so I could hear the extremity of her pain.

And it got progressively worse. Soon her voice cracked and by end of the sevenths repetition of the litany it failed completely. Only gurgling noises came from her tortured throat and she barely twitched with the blows. It would have been a struggle to find any part of her skin that was not covered with welts or cuts between her ankles and neck or wrists. And by now she was covered in a thin layer of blood. The scent was not very strong, but for someone with a good nose (and I definitely had one) it inescapable. It made watching that much harder and it terrified me.

The final repetition of the litany was again performed by the abbess and sisters Theresa and Lina. Every now and then they still managed to get a response from the all but catatonic girl. She might not show it much, but the magic of the collar would insure that she felt every blow and that she would remember it long after the punishment was over.

And then it was finally over and I breathed a sigh of relief. After a short prayer they begun to release her. First they untied her legs, then they sealed the chastity belt onto her. Finally they untied her arms and wrapped her in her robe. Since she could not stand on her own, several gray sisters helped. They carried more than led her away.

The abbess spoke up, "You have seen justice done and witnessed the beginning of the redemption of this sinner. Remember and return to your tasks." With that she left in the company of the ranking sisters.

As did the rest of us. First the gray sisters and then it was our turn. They helped us to our feet, pulled up the hood and led us back to the sinner's gate in small groups. I collected the usual spanking, thankful that I only had to suffer that little bit of abuse.

About three weeks later. a few days after I received the seventh stripe a gray sister fetched me late in the morning and led me to the office of the administrator of the section for sinners. Since white sisters practically never came to this, the part of the cloister for the lowest of us, that job was usually filled by a gray sister with three or four white stripes. The holder of that office changed regularly every few months, presumably because the current holder had been promoted past the position. At that time the office was held by Sister Plum. Cute name notwithstanding, she was as merciless towards us as every other holder of that position had been, if not more so.

But of course I obeyed and followed the gray sister. But I was quite apprehensive, being singled out was rarely good. We reached the office, I was ushered in and the door closed behind me. I went down on my knees in front of the table and waited for her to acknowledge me.

She let me wait and worry a little before she finally began to speak, "Sister Chastity, was it?"

"Yes, Superior Sister." Strictly speaking only higher ranking white sister rated that title, but since she was quite far above us sinners in rank, we usually addressed her as such, at least when no higher ranking sisters were present.

"How goes your redemption?"

I thought about what to say for a few moments before I answered, "Slowly. I try my best, but it is a struggle."

"Well said. So, sister," here she looked down at me, "do you trust Mother Juanita and the saints with your life?"

I was a little taken aback by the question but figured quickly that there was only one correct answer, "Yes, Superior Sister."

"Are you willing to put your faith to the test?"

A shiver ran down my spine, but again there was only one possible answer, "Yes, Superior Sister."

"Then come with me." She got up and I followed her out of the room, accompanied two gray sisters.

We did not have to walk far and soon we stopped in front of a locked door. I had been here (in the cloister) for a while now and seen most of the area for us sinners, but I had never been in this section. And nobody I knew had talked about it. I quickly found out why: The superior sister turned to me and warned, "Do not talk about what happens behind this door. Consider this to be like a confession. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Superior Sister. It would be a serious sin to talk about this. My mouth will be sealed."

"Good. Do not forget." She studied my face for a few more moments and then pulled out a key and unlocked the door. We entered and she closed the door behind us.

I found myself in a dimly lit room, about about five by five paces. In the center of the outer wall, opposite the door, was another door, leading to the outside. After a few moments I began to wonder where it led to, as it was on the southern wall, directly above the sheer cliff. Below the door was as some kind of machinery made out of wood.

The two low ranking gray sisters took their places at a largish wheel attached to the side of the machinery. They began to turn the wheel and the door began to move. It took a while to realize that the 'door' was actually a kind of sliding wall and moved inward rather than swing open. Once the moving section cleared the outer wall, light flooded the room and I could see the whole machinery much more clearly.

The movable wall was a bit less than three foot wide and about six high. It was attached to some kind of rails and the big wheel turned a set of toothed wheels that moved the whole thing. Everything was made of wood except that the door was lined with iron. So was the hole in the wall, such that they fit together with only a very thin space between them.

The two kept winching until the door was about a pace inside the room. The superior sister motioned me forward and pointed at the mechanism. I watched as they began turning a second, smaller, wheel and a section of 'floor' began to slide out from under the door. I shivered when I realized that they would want me to stand there with nothing but a thin wooden board between me and at least a hundred yards of empty air below me. A wooden board that they could retract at any time, plunging me to my death below.

They stopped when the board jutted out about a foot. Then they turned yet another wheel and a wooden rod extended from the door about two foot above the floor.

Sister Plum gave me a big grin and waved towards the board. That it was a pleasant and serene grin only made me shiver harder, "I know that it is a bit scary, but if you trust the saints with your life, you will stand here. Praise them and pray and you will have nothing to fear. Well?"

I stared at her. I wasn't quite scared shit-less, but only not by much. I tried to think of a good reason to refuse, but I could not fin one. This was clearly a test and one that I was quite certain I had to pass if I wanted to advance. And I needed to advance and become a full sister if I ever hoped to leave this hellhole of a cloister. I had to do this.

"Yes, I want to try my faith, Superior Sister."

"Good. Wait a moment." She opened a closet and handed me a long undergarment, "Here put this on, it is cold outside."

"Thank you, Superior Sister." I already wore such an undergarment since it was late winter and that was barely enough to keep me from freezing while inside the cloister except when I performed strenuous tasks. I took off my robe and put on the second undergarments on top of the first and then put on my robe again.

To be honest, I have no idea how I managed to make my feet move, but I did manage to climb up on the contraption and stand with my back to the wall. I even managed that without peeing myself. I began to recite the litany. Mostly because I knew that they would like that. While it did not really offer much in the way of comfort, but it did distract me and the familiar, if hated, words helped to steady my nerves a little.

Sister Plum gave me a pleased look and nodded, "If it gets too much, knock on the door." Then she gestured towards the others. And then it got worse yet as the whole contraption began to move slowly. Standing there motionless was one of the hardest things I ever did. Every cell in my body wanted to jump off at the last moment, but I managed to stand still.

And then the opportunity to jump off at the last moment and the temptation to do it was over as the door came level with the outer wall. But now things got a lot worse as I was slowly pushed outside the wall. So far my eyes had the edges of the doorway to hold onto, but now I was quickly loosing that last bit of security.

I'm not much afraid of heights, after all I am a squirrel and climbing comes naturally to us, but this was something different than climbing a tree. Even a quick glance down was enough to make my stomach queasy. I almost lost my footing when the contraption I stood on suddenly stopped.

I was at least a hundred paces up in the air. All that stood between me and certain death was a wooden plank three foot wide and only one deep. The cliff wall below me seemed to be completely vertical. After that quick glance I screwed my eyes shut until the dizziness passed and my stomach settled again.

As my heartbeat slowly returned to normal I realized that my legs were wet. I must have pissed myself. And I noticed that I had stopped praying. I could not remember where I had left off, so I began to recite the litany from the beginning once more, just in case any of the sisters was listening. While I detested the litany and the other prayers we had been forced to learn by rote, I could not deny that the mindless repetition helped calm me a little.

I slowly opened my eyes again, careful to look only straight ahead and not down. As I slowly became more use to the view, I let my eyes look further and further down. While I was still terrified a part of me found the view exhilarating and breathtaking.

The cliff wall below me was completely vertical or as close as made no difference. The only real feature was the scar where stairs led from a door a dozen paces to my left down to the river. The small river meandered through the valley and passed directly along the cliff below me. It would be simple to jump into it. Of course I had no idea how deep it was. Probably not nearly deep enough to survive a jump from such a height.

I was certain that one could survive a jump from such a height, at least with a little luck. Quite a few males had jumped from the cliffs on which Savan stood to impress females and survived to tell the tale. A few had not, survived, that is, of course. The cliffs there had not been quite as high, but the highest part of the cliffs must have been almost as high as I estimated this cliff to be. While I had gone to watch a few times, I had never jumped from anywhere as high, of course.

I reminisced about this for a moment and a wave of homesickness hit me. And then I suddenly realized that here was a chance for a quick and relatively painful end to my suffering. I had thought about suicide with increasing frequency since I had been forced to join the sisters and suffer from their attempts to "improve" us.

I wanted to flee and return to a semblance of a normal life more than anything, but my will to live was slowly being suffocated. Still, the sisters kept us under such tight control that suicide was not possible. Well, it might be possible with good planning and luck, but the chance of failure was high and the consequences of that were too horrible to contemplate. Of course, one could always renounce the sisterhood and get executed, and while the eventual hanging was probably relatively painless, the road there might well not be.

And now there was a chance for a quick and easy death. All I had to do was take one step or lean forward a little. For a few moments I was really tempted to end it all, but then I suddenly remembered the prophecy that Falchion, the sire of my murdered son had made: I would have to suffer a lot of hardship, but would eventually see better times and become a priestess of Lillith.

Once I remembered that, all thoughts of suicide were gone. As I thought about what he had told me, I realized how wise he had been when he had declined to tell me any further details. Had I known how bad things would get, I might well have just given up. But as I had no idea how long the hardship would last or how bad it would get, I had taken it a day at a time and made it so far.

And I vowed to myself not to give up. I would make it and I would make the celestials pay for what they had done to my son, to me and to so many others. No matter how hard it got, no matter how long it took. I would survive.

Once I had decided that I wanted to tough it out and survive, I returned my attention to the outside world and the task of surviving. As I took stock of my situation and looked around, I noticed a small bulge in the wall a few yards to my left. A bulge with a black spot that looked quite out of place on the otherwise off-white wall. Most likely a hole through which the sisters could watch whoever stood here, currently me.

With that I realized that I had stopped reciting. If they were watching, then it was even more important to seem pious, so I began to recite one of the long prayers that the sisters favored.

So far the weather was decent enough. It was cold, but the sun warmed me. And while the wind was stronger than inside the cloister, it was not so strong that it threatened to blow me off the ledge on which I stood. The cold would eventually become a real problem. Even with two undershirts the cold promised to become a problem, since I did not dare to move more than a little bit. How to position my legs was also an important question: Keeping them close together helped to keep out the draft that chilled me but keeping them further apart gave me better footing.

Suddenly I realized what the pole between my legs was for: it made it practically impossible to sit down. So I had to remain standing. Unfortunately it was too low to sit on the pole or hold onto it, unless I wanted to assume a quite awkward stance.

I could only pray that the wind would not get much stronger as I had nowhere I could hold onto. There was only a thin slit between the door and the wall, and that was edged with iron on both sides. Normally I might have been able to wedge my claws into it and held on that way, but unfortunately my claws were filed down almost to the skin and completely useless.

The bells tolled the next hour and afterwards I could hear the prayers of my sisters faintly. Over the next bell the weather slowly worsened. Whenever a cloud hid the sun, the temperature dropped noticeably. Having to work outside even in bad weather had hardened me considerably, but I was slowly beginning to freeze. When an icy drizzle began to fall, things got worse quickly.

And then the wind began to pick up as well and I began to get really afraid that I would be blown off this precarious spot. Apparently I was not the only one to fear that. Suddenly the door began to move. At first I hoped that it meant this ordeal was over, but they only moved it back a few inches. The minimal recess provided only very little protection against the elements, but now there were actual handholds that I could hold onto. Well, not proper handholds but I could grip the rocks to give me a little more stability.

Normally the heavy woolen robes we wore provided decent protection against the elements but eventually the icy rain began to soak into it. After that things became really, really miserable quickly. Once the undershirts got wet it did not take long before I began to shiver. The rain stopped after a bell or so and the weather began to get better again.

Soon after the wind let up I had to let go of the handholds reluctantly when the sisters moved the door back to its original position where it was level with the outer wall. So far I had been able to keep up reciting prayers or the litany with only short pauses even though my mouth became bone dry and my throat was beginning to hurt. Not long afterwards the clouds began to dissipate and the sun came out every now and then. But by now the damage had been done, with my soaked clothes even the warming rays of the sun could do little to warm me.

When my teeth began to chatter so badly that I could not keep reciting the sisters finally had mercy and let me back in.

The superior sister greeted me, "Welcome back. Your faith in the saints is commendable. Come here." While the words were pleasant enough, I could not shake the notion that she would have preferred it had I failed the test and died.

Of course, having stood almost motionless for almost four bells, my legs promptly gave out when I tried to move and I crashed to the floor at her feet, hurting my head and shoulder. As much as I hurt, I was so grateful to have solid ground under my body again that I almost kissed the ground.

The superior sister waited while I struggled to get back on my feet. Meanwhile the two others cranked the wheel to move the door back into the wall and to close the big hole through.

When I finally stood upright again the superior sister commanded, "Get her new clothes and some 'Saint's blessing'." She might not like furs much, and while she made life as hard for us as she could, she did not actually try to kill us.

One of them answered, "Yes, Superior Sister." The superior sister turned around and left. I waited a bit while the other two finished closing the doorway and then I followed them out of the room. They locked the door carefully and then led me to one of the washing rooms.

I took off the wet robe and the two sets of undergarments and put them in one of the baskets for dirty clothes. Then I used a towel to dry my fur a little (I would have needed several of the threadbare towels to dry myself completely but we were only allowed to use one, except by special dispensation from a high ranking sister) and then put on a new set of undergarments. Then I found a robe in my size (there were only two sizes, I used the smaller one) with the correct number of stripes and put it on.

They led me to the commissary where I received a bowl of 'Saint's blessing', a rather foul tasting potion. While not fun to lap up by any means, it did warm me and as far as I could tell, did help a lot to keep us from catching a cold or worse. One of them took me to the barn where I joined the other sinners for our usual duties.