Sister Eve enjoyed whipping naked bays when they got erections during the whipping. And then she thrashed them but good, sometimes tearing little strips of flesh off their bleeding backs with expert flicks of the leather strap. The teens would scream like girls then, and hot juice would bubble out of Sister Eve's young cunt, and she would tremble with such excitement that she could hardly stand up.

Sister Francine, looking on as supervisor or coach, would smirk vaguely, her usually severe red face softening just enough to let Sister Eve know that she was doing well, and Sister Eve would scourge the hanging youth with renewed strength, causing him to black out. That would end the fun, because one couldn't very well torture an unconscious teen. They would cut him down then and throw him back onto the piss-smelling straw of his stone-floored cell. The naked teens in adjacent cells, hugging their bony knees and trying to warm themselves against the damp drafts, would cower and remain silent, not daring to even turn an eye the wrong way lest Sister Francine single them out for the next whipping.

"Filthy beast," Sister Francine said now, gazing with a disgusted frown at the naked youth hanging unconscious from the rough wooden beams of the stone chamber. "Smells like a goat, doesn't he?"

"Yes, Sister." Sister Eve wrinkled her nose to show the older nun that she agreed completely.

"Cut the pig down."

"Yes, Sister." Sister Eve pulled the hunting knife from the leather sheath attached to her belt. She had to step up on a shaky wooden stool in order to cut the teen down. They hung the teens high because their bodies always stretched during the hanging, and letting their filthy toes touch, the floor wouldn't do. It was extra exciting to see a teen swaying freely in the air while he was being thrashed.