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Father Jason has brought me into a trap, a windowless coffin of a confessional to which he alone must hold the key to my escape. What kind of a confessional is this?

I force myself to sit, and instantly feel that the wood of the seat is rough and splintered. The tender flesh of my buttocks feel very nearly seared, and I let out a gasp.

"Yes," says the voice from the other side of the partition, "The seat is of rough-hewn wood, Cedar, it has a pleasing scent and rough qualities. You will not be comfortable sitting on it for long, so we should get started."

"Yes, Father."

"Place your arms on the arm rests."

"Yes, Father."

The moment I do as I'm told, two cold metal clamps snap shut over my wrists. I cry out involuntarily and struggle to free my hands. As I move in the seat a splinter pierces my left buttock, and I feel a small trickle of blood.

"Father, please! What are you doing? I've done everything you've told me and already you're punishing me! Please, let me go, I don't want to do this anymore!"

A sigh from behind the screen, almost resigned. "My child, you should know better than to ask for freedom from your sins. That outburst cannot go unpunished. Do you understand? Now, place your feet on the rests by each leg."

As I do, metal clamps close around each ankle and holds my legs tightly and spreads them open. My body is electric, his words searing into my flesh just as surely as they register in my ears. Even as I realize the desperation of my situation, my body reacts as it did a few minutes ago, when he struck me. Each splinter piercing my ass cheeks, the stinging of the metal clamps, sends waves of terror through my body that strangely becomes arousal, excitement and even more strangely, desire. I am fully aware of my situation now, how I must appear to him.

I feel the unmistakable feeling of my sex growing warm and moistening. Over my own scared breaths in my terror, I can even feel my flower beginning to swell and spread open. I thought this was impossible to have this kind of heightened sexual arousal with no lover caressing me.

I was frightened and deeply ashamed to be sitting there exposed to him with my body reacting the way it was. Guys have always told me I had a very sexy tight slim body with my small perky breasts, flat stomach and freshly shaved hairless mound, I had just shaved that morning. I was so exposed and feeling like a slut sitting before him.

"F-Father, what are you going to do?"

"Child, I am sorry to tell you that this confessional is modeled after one that was designed during the Spanish Inquisition. It served a dual purpose: a true confessional, and also a chamber in which suspected witches were interrogated, often with exceedingly harsh methods and devices, many of which I have improved upon."

Oh my God, I think to myself. I am now more afraid than ever and start tugging against the wrist and leg straps.

"I have a series of levers on my side, which I can use to activate various, shall I say, features of the confessional. For example, this lever here..."

I hear the creaking of a lever being pulled, and the center of my seat slides open (dragging yet more splinters across my ass) and I stop my struggles.

"I have just opened what was known as the Witches' Chamber. In the slit between your legs is a wheel, and on that wheel are attached various devices that I can use to probe you. For example..."

Another lever is pulled, and I scream in shock as a cold metal ball, the size of a tennis ball, is placed against my swelling moist lips. I try to fight its entry by squeezing my legs together but to no avail and while I am screaming and fighting its entry, pressure is exerted and it is slowly pushed into me and stops just as it gains its entry and my pussy surrounds it. The entry hurt but with it held still, I felt the cold fullness of it.

I was now more ashamed than ever and started crying when Father Jason stated, "Now, my child, tell me the first of your sins."

Again I hesitated answering and tried to lift myself up and away from

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