[M4F] Paying my Penitence in the Garden...

The great Cathedral in Keynsham was a building of great grey stone, high ceilings, bolts of wondrous white marble, ornate statuary and the home of a peculiar order of Nuns, the sisters of Penitence, known for their charity, education of the impoverished, and above all else, for their Garden.

The Cathedral was built with this garden in mind. The nuns provide an important service, they are a deterrent. Not for invading armies or hostile highwaymen, but for the common man, to ward him from petty crimes, crimes not worth bothering the constabulary.

Petty thievery, vandalism, Moral degeneracy, public indecency, minor blasphemies and generally being rude to the Nuns are all quick ways into the garden.

The Garden is, in a way, a prison. A prison where the men who had broken the common decency of the land were buried, on their backs, in what was, for all intents and purposes, a coffin, just below the surface they were bound, a small grate giving them air and a way to drink.

The men were to be punished. Not by brand nor by whip. But by lust. Their manhood, 'flowers' with a pair of 'petals' were pulled through a hole in the doors of these coffins, the wooden hole stuffed with silk to prevent them pulling free, and indeed, splinters. Where the nuns would titilate and toy with these flowers, to...cultivate the garden.

This seems like such a lurid fantasy, doesn't it?

There is a stopper on that. A man in the garden will only expel his seed during a washing, and indeed, only when the Abbess decides it. This can be, as is commonly the case, every few weeks to a month, to...rather extreme cases, such as one for man who was caught stealing from the collection plate, six months, his entire sentence was to go without orgasm, a bolt of purple silk, procured at great expense serving as a marker of his status.

The Cathedral is a famous place, where all virile boys dread going,especially the lustful ones.

It's a shame indeed then, that I'm bound for the garden, Vandalism and theft, they say, in truth, I did not steal, the paint was her father's, that temptress that abandoned me, and denied everything after I did this for a mere peek at her Bosom...

I could not even find privacy to drain myself one last time before the cathedral crested the horizon, a horrid time was had, as I was stripped, examined and prodded by a gaggle of rather attractive nuns.

My blush grew tenfold as I grew turgid, and was soon entombed in that horrid box, entrusted to the passing feet and dastardly dress-hems of the Nuns, feathers, hands and legs too, being used to pleasure and frustrate me...

Inspired by this lovely piece of fiction! Please do give it a read even if you're not going to respond!

Kinks: Denial, feet, religious themes, romance, taboo, story, creativity, edging and minor cbt!

Limits: Toilet play of any kind, death

I do hope to work something out with you, this could work well with some discussion, can't wait to hear from you all!