Piggie Plumpkins encounters the Femcan Convent.
Episode 4
Plumpkins experienced the hospitality of the Daughters of Devourment Convent, by enduring a long uncomfortable night in his new accommodations--a robust metal “bird cage suit” that dangled by a chain over a crackling fire pit. It’s tight fitting and sharply bespiked bars forced him to stand upright and continuously reposition his body parts in a vain effort to avoid being poked. The cage’s fire heated floor compelled his feet into a macabre sort of dance to avert becoming scorched.
Plumpkins’ predicament served as centerpiece for his detention cell. In contrast to his personal vexations, the cell interior was the epitome of lavish leather clad comfort. Lush diamond tuck black leather upholstered the walls and ceiling, same as with the rest of convent. Cushy leather club chairs and even a leather loveseat were provided for the novitiates who diligently tended the firepit’s flames.
All and all, the prisoner cell was considered quite a cozy little spot by the young ladies who staffed the convent’s nightshift. It was a favorite gathering place to spend break times and have snacks. A deluxe coffee table with ornate full tea set, matching china plates and a silver platter piled high with tempting gourmet pastries completed the scene. They chatted and engaged in gentle gossip about the convent’s affairs in the fire’s comforting glow. Sometimes even a little necking and petting would occur between the more affectionate among them.
Plumpkins’ whimpers were like music to their ears, and his physical sufferings ably served as an amusing form of entertainment. He quickly learned not to bother pleading for mercy--this only provoked a firestorm of taunts, cruel laughter and savage jabs with a red hot fire pit poker! These young misses were quick to reveal their bully girl roots and not to be trifled with…
And speaking of bully girls, come breakfast time, Plumpkins was treated with a visit by his old tormentresses from the orphanage. “Here’s your piggie slop, Plumpo…” The oldest bully girl gleefully declared. She ladled out a brimming helping from a rusty old bucket and thrust it through the bars up to his lips. It was an unappetizing, mealy looking goo that stung his nose when he caught a whiff. But the fact was, he was starving--he hadn’t eaten since before his arrival at the train station the day before.
He took an experimental taste and quickly spat it out--frantically panting to cool the searing pain of his tongue. He gave the bully girl an astonished look.
She gazed at him with mock disappointment. “What’s the matter Plumpo? Don’t you like the speciality of the house? Its called Ghost Pepper Gumbo, additionally spiced with Horse Radish, Wasabi, Hot Mustard and extra sour lime juice for good measure--eating it is guaruuunteeed to enhance the flavor of your piggie-flesh!” She offered him the ladle again. His face turned away reflexively.
One of the attending novitiates gave an offended pout. “A hunger striker, eh? We’ll see what Sister Ravenousetta has to say about this!” She left Plumpkins’ cell in a huff.
The youngest bully girl stepped up and proudly held out a sheet of paper with a cheerful smile. “Look here at what I’ve been doing Plumpo--I’ve been assigned to compile a list of all your sins to present to the Inquisitrix Counsel! It includes everything we used to tell the sisters at the orphanage about you…”
“BUT THOSE WERE ALL LIES!” Plumpkins howled in protest.
The oldest bully girl gave a soft chuckle. “Not to worry, Plumpo--the nuns around here aren’t very fussy about that sort of thing. Quantity counts much more than quality when it comes to reasons for punishing a sinner…” All the gathered young ladies shared in a laugh at that remark.
“And you should know the more sins you are punished for, the better your salivation!” the youngest bully girl eagerly added. This produced an indulgent smile among the novitiates.
She then gave Plumpkins an earnest look and asked with complete sincerity “Don’t you want to be able to spend Eternity in the Divine Dungeon?”
“WHAT? What are you talking about?” Plumpkins sputtered in astonishment.
“The Divine Dungeon of Saintress Severina…” she said with a lecturing tone. “where every sinful piggie who earns the privilege of Salvation will go--once he gives an exhaustive, self-damning full confession--then receives copious endlessly unendurable punishments that provide us an amusing spectacle for his penance, and then gratefully surrenders his flesh to provide us all with a toothsome meal, as his final act of penance.”
Plumpkins was completely nonplussed, at a complete loss for words upon hearing this. The novitiates all awaited his response with amused anticipation…
“ARE YOU PEOPLE OUT OF YOUR MINDS?” Plumpkins finally managed in an incredulous outburst. He gave her a bewildered gaze and asked “What in the Hell have they been teaching you here? That’s all crazy talk!”
The youngest bully girl’s jaw dropped in shocked astonishment--she was absolutely horrified by so disrespectful an attitude toward their beloved Saintress! Her cheerful smile now transformed into a sullen scowl.
“Harrumph!” the oldest bully girl said with an ironic smirk. “It seems that blasphemy will need to be added to your list of sins…”
This resulted in a fresh outburst of laughter from the group--all except the youngest bully girl, who just glared at Plumpkins with smoldering outrage and utter indignation!
At that moment, a very cross Sister Ravenousetta burst upon the scene with the huffy novitiate in tow, who carried a strange looking funnel contraption.
“It seems Mr. Plumpkins finds our fare to be disagreeable…” Sister Ravenousetta said menacingly. Nodding toward the oldest bully girl, she indicated for her to offer him the ladle for one last chance.
Plumpkins again refused.
Sister Ravenousetta was absolutely infuriated by such defiance from a prisoner within her charge! All the novitiate’s eyebrows raised up as they gave each other knowing looks and waited for the inevitable…
“Prepare this sinner for gavage!” she said, seething at Plumpkins as his cage was swung away from the fire and lowered to the floor with a thud. He was overpowered and roughly pulled out of it, then forcefully strapped into a wheelchair.
The novitiate produced her “foie gras” funnel, traditionally used for fattening poultry by force feeding. It was a long tubed funnel incorporating a hand cranked helical screw device like an auger that impelled food paste down its length.
The funnel’s tube was dipped deep into the bucket of searingly spicy slop for lubrication, then slid down the struggling Plumpkins’ throat as his mouth was forcibly held open. His eyes squirted tears and he choked out a scream--the peppery potion felt like he was swallowing fire!
Sister Ravenousetta crossed her arms and looked on unsympathetically while the oldest bully girl proceeded to meticulously pour the bucket’s entire contents into the funnel. The novitiate holding the funnel began turning the crank handle. A torrid tasting trail of the ghastly goop implacably travelled down the tube into his gut to form a blazing blob that felt about to burn it’s way strait through him.
The ordeal continued until Plumpkins seemed about to explode. His face became ghostly pail and drenching sweat poured down his brow. His entire world became focused on an overwhelming desire to vomit up the noxious glop--but the unyielding tube blocked that option. He could endure no more and mercifully fainted...
To be continued…
