Submission (#2206) Approved

How completely unseemly - for a devotee of the Church of Sulfur to fraternize with such an abhorrent bother as Poppy! This so-called believer bragged of lustful escapades with the wretched girl on hallowed ground. On hallowed ground, could you believe it? Disgusting, utterly foul. One would have to rigorously lash the concept of decorum into their skin to reform this one.

Hildegard paced around the courtyard, whip in hand. Handy with the whip, she was - and oh so fond of using it. She would make that little whelp kneel, and cry, and beg for more. She would teach them a firm lesson. Her lovely face contorted in a scowl, Hildegard could barely tell if there was any sadistic pleasure left in her fantasies, or if the allure of sheer contempt overpowered it.

She almost misses her newest pupil-to-be passing by, flaunting the hickeys on their neck and shoulders. The end of Hildegard’s whip wraps around their ankle, and she drags them to her feet across the cobblestones. What happens next is wonderful - a miracle of flagellation achieved only by a nun of Hildegard’s skill and position. They’re bleeding, softly crying, hands in prayer. So cute. For the first time in days, Hildegard lets out a sigh of satisfaction.

What is vice without excess? Hildegard raises the whip again. Lovely, lovely, lovely - and their plea is so pitiful and weak she barely hears it.

“...get you anything… for you…”

That is a new one! Much more interesting than a protest of denial - and Hildegard adores bargaining, especially when she can press and extort.

“For me? Why would you get anything for me when you’re clearly so besotted with-”

As if predicting the visceral spite HIldegard would fly into at the mention of Poppy, the devotee cuts her off. “For you, Sister Hildegard. I promise.”

Hildegard deliberates for a moment, and all sorts of unpleasant images cross her mind. They’re mostly of Poppy making fun of her outfits, touching her things, turning her adorable disciples away, and being a most detestable nuisance. More than a nuisance - an offense to order, to principle. Hildegard’s grip tightens around the handle of the whip out of instinct, but she doesn’t strike.

“Bring me something she will miss.”

—

A few days later, Hildegard giggles as she unwraps a gift prepared only for her and her petty revenge. It’s somewhat underwhelming, but Poppy is as frivolous as she is chaotic, so Hildegard imagines her shedding tears over the loss of an outfit and grins.

Well, not just any outfit - it’s a gorgeous set of lingerie, probably her best. It’s a girly shade of pink, and has enough lace and frills to give an admirer several cavities from the sweetness. Poppy’s pretty body would fill out the garments splendidly, but Hildegard can’t bear to spend longer than necessary on that thought - a split second, nothing more. Instead, she holds the delicate fabric up to her skin. It’s not latex, but it would suit her better than it suits Poppy, surely.

Her breasts are a bit too big for the bodice, but Hildegard rather likes the tightness on her flesh. Alone in the comfort of her room, she alone gazes at herself sporting the unfamiliar style in the mirror. Pride isn’t her everyday sin, but indulgence and variety are the spices of life. Adorned in soft rose blush, Hildegard feels vindicated… and sexy, but she surely will not miss looking like this. She strokes her thighs and waist, then rips the lingerie off as brashly as possible. Good riddance!

This is a secret she will share with her reflection.