The Competition

[Loxuru]

Officiating formally over the proceedings was the Bishop of Cruxton, a robust-looking man, the most recent of a long series of sons of the great house of Wragg to have taken the cloth.

There he is.... what would The Competition have been without participation of a clergyman from the esteemed House of Wragg?

the Cardinal jumped to his feet, barely able to contain himself, pointing and gesturing impatiently toward the waiting shackles on the nearby stone columns, and screaming, his face turned as red as his robes, “to the posts, to the posts! Scourge them, scourge them; make them bleed!”

That Cardinal shows a bit too much zeal!

 

[Loinclothslave]

15. The Abbess relented in the face of Sister Hilda's impassioned arguments, and as a consequence I spent the next hour huddled on the cold hard floor of our quarters, gnawing on a dry husk of bread and listening to Sister Kathleen howl as Hilda, back lathered in sweat, gave the young nun 20 lashes.

That’s the least Hilda can do for Sr Kathleen who should be grateful for her devoted penance!

Meanwhile, in a much larger room; somewhere in the Cathedral precinct, the fat Cardinal and his retinue were undoubtedly gorging themselves on rich food and guzzling fine wine in preparation for the coming "condemnation and scourging" phase of the Competition.

The best phase coming up!

"Hurry, it's time," growled Hilda, pulling up on and straightening her dark tunic.

Slowly I rose to my feet, adjusting my loincloth ... all that I was allowed, but also required to wear according to the rules of the Competition from this time until I was nailed and raised.

Excellent rule!

Ethelbert came up behind me, looped and tied a rope around my neck, tossing the long loose end to Sister Hilda, who gave it a tug to start me towards the door.

“Move to your destiny, little one!”

“G’ahck!”

"What about Sister Kathleen?" I cried, looking back over my shoulder at her, standing against the wall, stripped to the waist, shackled wrists outstretched, red crisscrossing stripes covering her bare back.

It turns you on, seeing Kathleen like this? It sits well with me!

"We won't be needing her," answered Hilda, "your fate is in my hands now, dear Barbara!"

Excellent news!

We left the room, but my heart stayed behind with Kathleen and the memories of our tenderness together on the small bed that night in her Abbey room.

Typical Barb!

Moments later we entered the great Cathedral and made our way up a side aisle and then up onto to the raised space in front of the choir. There I was made to kneel alongside the other three novices, so close together that our hips and shoulders nearly touched, facing the throng of nuns, monks and priests who packed the long nave.

Thessela knelt to my left; to my right the French novice Messaline and, just beyond, the Scot, Eulalia. We were all naked, except for our loincloths, and we each had a rope noosed around our necks, with its loose end dangling against our backs.

4 of our favourite crux-girls face the lash! @messaline , @Thessela , and the crowd favourite, @Eulalia !

Suspended ominously from each of the four nearest of the great columns supporting the great church's magnificent rib-vaulted ceiling, were four pairs of waiting wrist irons.

Ohhhhh, the promise of greater torment soon to cum!

To our left and slightly behind us were seated the four Abbesses; to our right, the Cardinal and his retinue.

Officiating formally over the proceedings was the Bishop of Cruxton, a robust-looking man, the most recent of a long series of sons of the great house of Wragg to have taken the cloth.

Holding his arms aloft, he led the assembled in prayer and psalm, offered greetings and salutations to His Eminence the Cardinal for once again bringing the solemn and deeply moving pageantry of the Competition to the celebration of the feast of St. Andrew at Cruxton Cathedral; and also to each of the four visiting Abbesses for offering up in sacrifice a young novice from their respective Houses.

“It is right to give thanks and praise!”

Then passing behind us, and placing his open hand in turn on each of our heads he "condemned" the four of us to be crucified in the manner of, and for the glory of, our Savior and Lord. The stage was set for the first station of the cross, our scourging at the hands of our own teams,

Ooohhh, possibly my favourite Station of the Cross! Ever since childhood, in fact!

which in my case meant the practiced whip hand of Sister Hilda, assisted by the monks, Ethelbert and Tuck.

Good old, reliable Hilda, you need a practiced hand for this coming ritual! How fortunate Barb is to benefit from this Mistress of the Whip!

A long moment of silence followed during which I scanned the expectantly enraptured faces of the throng before me, and stole a quick glance at the Cardinal who was leaning forward in his seat, hands folded on his lap, an expression of keen anticipation painted over his jowly countenance.

I bet his hands are, erm, folded in his lap!

"Let us begin," intoned Bishop Wragg, "with a light whipping of the novices in place before proceeding to their formal scourging at the columns below. A murmur of voices spread through the assembled.

Fantastic idea, Cardinal @Wragg !

Hilda leaned over my shoulder to whisper in my ear, "Clasp your hands behind your head my dear and prepare yourself."

Slowly I did so, looking to my left and right to see the other novices doing the same. I felt the noose around my neck tighten as Hilda took up the rope's end in one hand.

Nice! No possibility of escape, you must simply endure!

I waited, taking in a deep breath and holding it, just as with a loud grunt Hilda laid the supple business ends of a short multi-tailed whip of the kind used to flagellate oneself squarely across the center of my back.

I gasped and arched, throwing my chest out and my head back, as did the others in quick succession to the right and left of me. A moment later, as a second lash drew the tails of Hilda’s whip across my shoulder blades and Thessela's swinging elbow nearly struck me in the face, I cried out in pain. Messaline twisted and fell over against my right hip and thigh, only to be jerked back upright again by the rope around her neck.

@messaline ! Manners, girl!!!

And so it went for at least another dozen or so … lash after frenzied lash, falling in quick succession across our backs … the four of us down on our knees, bucking, twisting, breasts shaking and wobbling, hair flying, flopping against one another, pulled back in place each time by the ropes around our necks … trying, through it all, to keep our hands clasped behind our heads.

Excellent discipline practice, ladies!

The scene was electrifying, the onlookers down on the floor of the nave craning their necks, jostling for a better view… the Cardinal jumped to his feet, barely able to contain himself, pointing and gesturing impatiently toward the waiting shackles on the nearby stone columns, and screaming, his face turned as red as his robes, “to the posts, to the posts! Scourge them, scourge them; make them bleed!”

TO BE CONTINUED

Mmmmm, yes! To the posts!!! Let the real torture begin!

Fantastic chapter, all of you!

 

[Loinclothslave]

Great reactions....everyone here should feel free to contribute

In the back of the room, a penitent slave kneels in chains and loincloth to witness the great sacrifice of her star novice from the abbey…

Miss loinclothslave looks up at her controlling Priest, whispers and begs “please Sir?” As she grovels in humble supplication…

He quietly answers: “Yes my child, you may….” and hands her a self-flagellation whip.

Miss loinclothslave proceeded to whip herself stroke for stroke, whispering her Rosary as she witnessed the spectacle. She was offering her suffering as credit against any sins of the Holy Sacrifice Novices, hoping to cleanse their souls so that the Lord would accept their suffering as holy penance against the sins of their souls!

She was supposed to be offering this only for Barb of her Abbey, but couldn’t help begging the Lord to accept her offering for the Scottish novice above all- the one named for the Martyr of Barcelona! Miss loinclothslave thought she was the most worthy of the four to discover paradise after the nails consumed the Scot….

 

[Barbaria1]

In the back of the room, a penitent slave kneels in chains and loincloth to witness the great sacrifice of her star novice from the abbey…

Miss loinclothslave looks up at her controlling Priest, whispers and begs “please Sir?” As she grovels in humble supplication…

He quietly answers: “Yes my child, you may….” and hands her a self-flagellation whip.

Miss loinclothslave proceeded to whip herself stroke for stroke, whispering her Rosary as she witnessed the spectacle. She was offering her suffering as credit against any sins of the Holy Sacrifice Novices, hoping to cleanse their souls so that the Lord would accept their suffering as holy penance against the sins of their souls!

She was supposed to be offering this only for Barb of her Abbey, but couldn’t help begging the Lord to accept her offering for the Scottish novice above all- the one named for the Martyr of Barcelona! Miss loinclothslave thought she was the most worthy of the four to discover paradise after the nails consumed the Scot….

LOVELY ADDITION

 

[Loxuru]

Across the way, Messaline and Eulalia had also been left to hang from one wrist, heads bowed, panting, bodies covered with glistening sweat. One side of the Scot novice’s loincloth had come undone. The small cloth clung precariously to one thigh, just below her exposed sex, causing a Scottish nun to rush forward, falling to her knees and frantically attempting to retie the loose loincloth, presumably because the rules forbade its loss this early in the Competition.

Too late! Penalty points for the Scottish team!

 

[Loxuru]

"Our own team from Cruxton, led by a very strong-armed and determined Sister Hilda, also turned in a strong performance earning a score of 16, which makes a grand total of 28, enough to edge ahead of the Scots and claim second place."

Whatever you think of Sister Hilda, she has put Cruxton back on track!

 

[Loinclothslave]

@Eulalia was robbed!

 

[Loxuru]

To my right, Thessela lay on her side, curled in a fetal position. Her eyes were open. She was staring at me with a scared and pleading look. My first impulse was to ignore her, but as I raised myself up to a kneeling position, I suddenly reached out to her, grasping her arm to help her up. She smiled faintly, gripped my arm, and righted herself on hands and knees.

This may be a competition, I thought to myself, but we are in this together and the horror of our plight … well, yes … I felt for her, the poor thing was so obviously unprepared for this.

This act deserves bonus points for Cruxton, for fair-play!

 

[Loinclothslave]

What Barb has not said ....

We were not all whipped with the knout ; our Abesse had the choice of the whip ; for me, wishing to be the most near of the real roman whipping, she had choosen this famous roman whip, with two leather'lashes into which are inserted lead'balls to do the fleshes exploding !

Ahhhh, you’re trying to switch my allegiance away from @Eulalia , aren’t you? Well this could work! Mmmmm those lead balls are giving you extra weight in my opinion!

"Aaaaaarg !" I squealed when the first stroke was hurting my back

Mmmmmmmm whip her!

, but, chained like an animal to the whipping post, I couldn't escape !

Not an animal, a condemned slave…

"Woooooooooooorrrrggg !" I bellowed when the following strokes were starting to redden my body !

Ooooohhh yessss…

"Aooooooorrrgg!" Suddenly, like I was trying to avoid the lashes in twisting my body around the column, my right breast was

That doesn’t sound like messa to try to avoid it? Ohhh, so the flagrum is so heavily laid on it twists you!

blazing like if a red iron had burned it !

Perhaps the red iron will cum later?

It was only the 10th stoke !

Good, you react so well, we like your show!

But, implacably, the torment continued ! My Abess had entrusted it to a nun of our Abbey named Sister Judith: never,during my training , she had whipped me but I knew her for her deep cruelty !

And now we all live Sister Judith! She is a maestra of the whip!

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Now, splashes of blood were spattering all around me and Sister Judith was even laughing in front of that, though she was herself bespattered !

Bathed in the holy sacrament of the Holy Martyrs

"Waaaaoooo ! Aaaaaaarg ! Aoooooorgg! " I was shrieking, howling, squealing but more I was, more Sister Judith took her pleasure to do !!!

She’s not the only one there enjoying this, admit it!

When the Cardinal was coming to see, he received some blood on his face and was applausing with a great joice !

All of us shared his enthusiasm… and yours!

The last strokes were like a death, for me : I was hanged by my wrists to the column and had even practically no reactions !

La petite mort?

I was in transe , exhausted , overwelcomed by the sufferings ....
But, was it not the target in fact ? To weaken the future crucified for more subjugation ?

"Hin ! Hin ! Hin !" Only an animal'groan could get out of me : I was like annihilated, only wishing that it could be pleasant for the Jury and that my Abbey would be proud of me ..........

Such proper motivation deserves your reward

Just my little contribution .......

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Messa​

Amazing stuff, sweet Gaulette!

 

[Loxuru]

At the conclusion of the first lap I was close to collapse. Waves of weariness swept over me. My muscles ached, my back hurt, and each and every one of Hilda’s cruel strappings added to my agony. I wasn't sure how I would ever make it around twice more without faltering or falling. Each step became more difficult than the one before it, exhaustion was setting in, and my halting, broken pace only made Hilda more angry and agitated.

Based on historical grounds, each participant should be allowed to fall two times, I should guess?

As we completed the circuit, leaving the narrow south aisle and crossing the great Cathedral's west end, the space widened; and seeing a chance to overtake the French and grab the lead, Sister Hilda began to strap me more ferociously than ever. I stumbled forward, nearly lost my balance, righted myself, swerved to the outside and began to edge by Messaline, who responded under Judith's furious whipping with a burst of speed of her own.

Hey, Sister Hilda! This is a solemn Via Cruxis, not Ben-Hur's chariot race!

Moments later we collided, banging our crossbeams together and getting our feet tangled. I lost my balance, tottered crazily and went down, first to my knees, then laid out full on the floor, my cross on top of me. With my wrists bound to the crossbeam across my shoulders, there was no way to break my fall. My face smashed against the floor, and everything went temporarily black.

See now, what happens!

An infuriated and out of control Hilda charged up to Sister Judith, squared off and slugged her, sending the surprised French nun to the floor with blood spurting from her nose. Whereupon Hilda promptly tore open her vest, and shouting at the top of her lungs jumped on top of her rival and began to pummel the dazed woman with her fists.

A nun's catfight! That's unseen!

Bishop Wragg arrived on the scene and waded into the melee, loudly asserting his authority and eventually succeeding in separating the two sides and restoring order. Then he had Hilda, whom he held responsible for the whole disgraceful mess, brought before him. He gave her a long and heated dressing down, before summarily dismissing her from her duties and banishing her to her quarters.

Team Cruxton is happy here, not to get disqualified! For next year's edition, Sister Hilda should urgentlly follow a therapy in anger management!

Anyway, Sister Hilda made this edition - and this episode - unforgetable and outstanding!