All this time John had been muttering to himself, working himself up to a fury of rage at the helpless bound woman trussed to the cross. He now dug a finger viciously between her straining thighs, up into her cunt. She screamed at this vile attack but he just grinned evilly into her face as he gloated over his defilement of her helpless modesty.

“That will do for now,” he told me. “I just want her in condition for me to tease and torment while we eat. After dinner I'll really do a job on her, and when I'm through she'll be sorry she ever wanted to act like a nun. The managers of The Club got her from an acting school because she was sure she could play the part of a holy sister. She is very religious and a virgin, so she's almost as good for my purposes as a real nun would be.”

With one hand still busy fingering the poor girl's virgin cunt, John pressed a button with the other hand to alert the commissary department of the institution that we were ready to have our dinner served.

Within seconds the door opened and a little girl about seven years old peered in, hesitating and frightened. “Ith thith the right plathe?” she lisped, her face pale and strained by being thrust into an unknown and frightening situation. “I mean, ith thith where I'm meant to bring dinner for you two gentlemen?”

“Yes, you're in the right place, little girl,” replied John curtly. “Don't just stand there shivering. Get on with whatever you've been told to do.”

The child's head disappeared for a moment and then she came back carrying two shrimp cocktails which she placed before us on the table. As she was about to leave the room, I grasped her by the arm and asked, “What's your name young lady? And what are you doing here playing waitress?”