Twelve times he had masterfully wielded that belt. She shivered again.The Minister stepped back, as if examining his handiwork. His hands softly stroked Nasear's trembling bottom, in an almost loving caress. Pamela almost wished it was her own bottom being so lovingly caressed. Her own bottom cheeks tingled.He turned and called out to the house. A servant rushed out, running across the lawn. He handed an ointment to The Minister who squeezed the sweet smelling contents into his large palms before turning to Nasear. With swift gentle strokes he oiled and palmed Nasear's softly curved bottom. Pamela found a sudden rush of moisture in her loins. She could not imagine her father doing this after any punishment! Her cheeks flushed pink as with a sudden thrust, an oiled finger slid inside Nasear's bottom. Oh my God, thought Pamela.What is he doing?Nasear was wriggling on the smoothly working finger!Finally The Minister stepped back reaching for the towel now offered to him by the servant.. But I think you need to clean it all off before the Abbess sees. She probably wouldn’t understand.”~~~~~~The next day, the Abbess made Abigail help in the refectory all day, saying that she wanted to see for herself how well Peter’s wounds were healing. For some reason, Abigail was troubled at not seeing him, and she found herself missing him. Was it his company, or his prick, that she missed most? She pushed this thought to the back of her mind. Helping him with his recovery was one thing, but she knew it was very wrong to think about his prick at all, never mind looking forward to touching it again.That night she lay in her bed, unable to sleep. She could hear the night-time noises made by her companions; breathing, creaks of beds, cries of nightmares. Outside, an animal screamed, whether in pain or passion she couldn’t tell.Carefully, Abigail pushed up her shift and slipped her hand between her legs, feeling for the warm wet hole hidden within her thick mat of hair. She trembled.
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