by Sean O'Kane
“Bring on the next test, brothers,” she told her reflection. But just then she heard the bedroom door open and suddenly all her confidence vanished and she hurried back.
It was Brother Davis.
“Open,” he ordered her, and she snapped into position. She shivered as he ran his fingers over the welts on her breasts and stomach but he ignored her and bent to look at her thighs. He traced the marks where the lash had curled round her and finally let his hand run along her labia. She winced as it passed over her burn mark.
“What did he do there?” Brother Davis asked.
“Burned me with a cigarette Master.”
“Were you good and moist at the time?”
“Yes Master.”
“Then you’ll be fine soon enough.” He straightened up and tilted her chin to look into her eyes. “He said you were very good after a whipping.”
“Thank you Master.”
For the second time he smiled openly. “How you do love the whip Number Three,” he said.
She smiled back shyly. “Yes Master.”
He became serious again. “You all did well. There are ten criminals on their way to a monastery now, quite willingly. They may have been in prison but they’re all the type to re-offend. But once we’ve got them...” he gave an ironic smile, “they won’t. Of course we could have abducted them but it’s so much easier if we use these little honeypots.” He tapped her sex lightly. “Then they walk into the trap of their own accord.”
He turned away and told Paula to follow him. She obeyed, but her thoughts were in turmoil. Her past life had made a most unwelcome intrusion. Honeypot.
She had come full circle. So where did she go from here?
The other girls were waiting in the corridor and when they were all assembled, they were marched off to their new quarters.
They were now to be housed on the first floor of a wing of the house itself. And outside the door of their room, Father Burton was waiting for them. He had a large book open in front of him and before they entered the room they were asked their names and he recorded them. She was no longer Number Three; she was Paula again. There was one more ritual to be observed, their metal collars were unlocked and removed. All of them flexed and rubbed their necks as the weight and constriction were removed. They were all fitted instead with soft leather collars which buckled on. Almost literally light-headed Paula entered her new quarters.
They were to live in a long room with all ten beds standing along one wall. Opposite them were washbasins, and above those was one long mirror. At the far end of the room were toilets and showers, all of them open but no-one cared. It was a room, not a cell. The beds were arranged in pairs with five-foot high wooden partitions between each pair. Paula wasn’t surprised to see from the rings and chains that they would be imprisoned at night, but felt comfortable with that. She wasn’t sure she wanted to sleep in freedom anymore.
But best of all they were allowed to talk. At last they found out each other’s names and as they crowded in front of the mirror they caught up on weeks of forbidden chat. Mainly it was that day’s events which occupied them however. The mirror was big enough to reflect them all from head to waist and they compared the marks of the various whips which had been used on them, turning and twisting to look at breasts, backs and buttocks. It was the first time that Paula or any of them had seen their own bodies so clearly in the aftermath of a beating. They were all fascinated and Paula could see that same pride which shone in her own eyes, reflected in nine other pairs. There were jars of the same cream they had used in the cells and they all helped one another rub it into their cuts and bruises. The girl who had caused trouble on their first day and whose name was Caroline, now helped Paula by attending to the marks of the cane on her buttocks, and she returned the favour by helping her reach weals which stretched across her shoulders and down her back.
It was only later that night, just before she fell asleep, when Paula realised that only a few weeks before, she and these girls would have been on opposite sides of the law. They had despised and hated each other. But now they were her companions and she had stronger links with them than with anyone else in the world. They were links that had been forged in pain and which now held them together in the pride of total submission.
Sister Helen, a slender brunette who moved with the grace of a dancer came in and gave them their clothes. The shifts may have been simple but they were well enough cut to fit each girl’s figure snugly and they fell on them with cries of delight. Paula found the sensation of cloth against her skin very strange for some time but also found herself looking forward to having something to remove before the next man required the use of her body.
Later they were taken to the main dining room. It was a huge panelled room with a long top table at which the brothers and sisters ate. Then there were shorter tables set at right angles for the novices and initiates. The sister on duty stood at one end of the serving counter. Paula learned that they would no longer have to repeat their submission out loud but they would still be beaten. However a tawse rather than a crop was used.
When it was her turn Paula laid her upper body down on the table, as she had seen the others do and hitched up the short dress to bare her buttocks. The tawse made a satisfying smack as it landed on her and she felt a wide swathe of heat spread over her cheek, mingled with a sharper stinging. Each girl got two on each cheek. Back in their room the girls found that it left wide red patches with white stripes like finger marks within them. But it was less severe than the crop and left the buttocks clear to take a lot more if required.
While she ate Paula watched the initiates take their beatings and envied the elegance with which they were able to do it. The short, slightly flared skirts of their dresses were very easily flicked up as each girl bent over. And she noticed how their heeled shoes emphasised the length of their legs curving up gracefully into the swell of their taut buttocks. She watched entranced as the tawse slapped down and sent little ripples running through the flesh.
The sight gave her the answer to her earlier uncertainty about what the future held for her now she had come full circle.
She wanted to be an initiate. She wanted to wear that uniform.
Chapter 16
Within a few days those girls who had completed their training as initiates were dispatched. Some were taken by brothers from other monasteries. Some, but only a few, were taken to the headquarters of the Church. It was rumoured in whispers that these would go into the outside world to work for the Patriarch on special assignments, and they were especially envied as they would meet the Patriarch himself.
The rest were sold off.
On the day of the sale, the novices were taken out to a large barn on the estate. Inside, a raised stage had been built at one end. Down one wall were tables laden with food and drink for the guests. Paula’s group had been working in the kitchens preparing the food for two days now. At the back of the barn where they would be, a complicated scaffolding arrangement of thin steel poles had been erected. At the centre of the arrangement were ten X shaped crosses which were supported and braced by the other poles. As Paula took in the fact that the X shaped frames had chains attached to the four arms of the X, she guessed that they were to be mounted on them.
She was right. Each girl was attached by her restraints to a cross, which left her spreadeagled so that her legs and arms were stretched wide open exactly imitating the X of the Church’s symbol. The poles themselves were quite slender, so as not to interfere with any examination of their bodies which anyone might care to make. Once were they all mounted in a long line Father Burton addressed them.
“You are not for sale today. You are here to encourage the bidding on those who are, and to encourage anyone who is unsuccessful in purchasing a girl to return the next time. Although you will not be gagged, as some might wish to inspect your mouths, the rule of silence will apply. And it will be absolute,” he told them.
They were left to wait for an hour or
two before the guests arrived. Paula had wondered who the guests would be. Who would the Church allow to see its slaves? Now she found out. A large crowd of men and women entered. Three of the brothers stationed themselves along Paula’s line, to enforce the rule of silence she presumed. At first the guests ignored them and concentrated instead on the food and the drink. But after a while a steady stream of both men and women approached them. Paula was surprised by the number of women.
The men all had an aura of power and wealth about them. Many were obviously foreign and one or two wore Arabic robes. Some of them had women with them, simpering little tarts Paula thought contemptuously, and wondered how they would scream and writhe under the whip of a real Master. A few of the women were obviously slaves themselves and wore collars with leads attached and which their masters held. The remainder were very different. They were hard faced, but exquisitely dressed and coiffured, and they were obviously here on business. Traffickers, Paula thought, looking for slaves to sell on. They discussed all the girls quite openly, comparing the sizes of their breasts and looking for good muscle tone to withstand the rigours of slavery. Paula was so used to being talked about in her own hearing that the only thing which irritated her was one man who said he thought she could take twenty or so lashes quite easily. She had to bite her lip to prevent herself from telling him that she could take a lot more than that.
Paula found that she attracted quite a lot of attention. Male hands were run up the long muscular curves of her thighs. Her breasts were squeezed and weighed. Her sex was dug into by countless hands and fingers rummaged inside her until she had to bite her lip again to stop herself from moaning. She knew her own body well enough to know that the more outrageously it was treated the more it would respond, and sure enough when fingers were removed from her vagina they came out glistening with her juice.
“Very responsive. And a good build to take a lot of punishment,” she heard one dark-skinned man say. Now there was a man who knew a good slave when he saw one, she thought. “Could be raced too,” he went on. His companion who looked American agreed and reached round to grasp and squeeze her buttocks. “Yeah, nice ass as well. Bet that bounces real good when it’s whipped.” He pushed a finger roughly up into her anus and Paula tried to accommodate him but had no real way of moving. “Nice tight little channel there. If she’s not beaten to shit by next time, I wouldn’t mind bidding.” He too tried her sex and pronounced it very interesting and then they passed on to the next girl, wiping Paula’s juices off their fingers on her stomach.
For the first time she was fingered by a woman. A blonde holding a glass of wine in one elegantly manicured hand had been watching Paula for some time and at last approached her now. She was handsome, but Paula could sense the toughness in her. She was alone and for some time just caressed Paula’s breasts while looking keenly into her face. Paula remained silent despite the way her breasts felt taut and full, the nipples standing out proud and hard. But when the woman pulled and twisted them hard between thumb and forefinger, she moaned against her clenched teeth. The woman gave a cruel little chuckle and shifted her attention down below. Paula couldn’t help a little shiver as she felt a female hand for the first time stroke her clitoris. All the men had gone straight for her hole, but this woman knew better. She spent a long time patiently fondling the little nub which was erect in the first place but was soon throbbing with excitement. Paula desperately shut her eyes and tried to choke back the moans that were being forced relentlessly up her throat. She could feel her lips quivering and she wanted the woman’s hand to reach up inside her now. But she stopped suddenly and Paula blinked in surprise. The woman looked at her coolly and then spoke with a Scandinavian accent.
“If you make any noise, they will whip you?”
Paula nodded.
“If you were mine I would show you how a woman should really be whipped. Before I sold you of course.” She smiled and touched her fingers to Paula’s mouth before passing on. Paula licked her lips and got the taste of her arousal from them. It was a poor substitute for the orgasm she had been on the brink of. But when she thought that one day she could really be sold to a woman like that, she felt her sex lips dry and her vagina contract immediately. She was sure that an owner like that would escalate cruelty to new and unimaginable heights.
For another hour or so all the girls were fingered and explored but at last the auction began. There were five being sold. One of the brothers stood to one side of the stage and acted as auctioneer. He told the guests that each girl had been trained in obedience, deportment, dancing and general household service, as well as, of course, in all the arts appropriate to a slave girl.
Each girl was led onto stage by a brother who held a lead which was attached to the rings at her belly. At the very front of the stage she adopted the ‘open’ position and let the guests get a good look at her, then she was made to turn around slowly while maintaining the position until she faced her audience again, and the bidding began.
Paula was amazed at the amounts of money which were bid. Most of them fetched around a million pounds but one especially attractive blonde went to an Arab for nearly two million.
That night Paula was put on display in the Lounge. She and a girl called Linda, the small girl who had been whipped beside the van on their first night of captivity, were called for. The brother who came for them made them strip and then clipped their wrists together high up between their shoulder blades, by attaching their restraints to their collars with a short chain. He clipped their leashes to the rings at their bellies, just like the girls who had been sold earlier that day. And Paula found it very exciting to be led through the house in such a way. She felt utterly enslaved and wished only that there were more people to see her.
On many occasions she had seen girls displayed and knew that the brothers took great delight in devising excruciating positions for them. Right at the start of her enslavement to the Church she had been terrified at the thought of what it would be like to be displayed, but now her heart was hammering with anticipation of what they would put her through.
She wasn’t disappointed. The room was empty when they reached it except for another one of the brothers and without a word to the girls the two men set to work. They stood them back-to-back and chained their ankles to the floor well apart, then they released their wrists from behind their backs and clipped them together in front of them before raising them high above their heads by means of a chain hanging from the ceiling. The chains from which they hung were adjusted so that they were able to stand on tiptoe with a little bit of leeway to lower and raise themselves. Even so Paula could feel immediately that the strain on their legs and thighs was going to be extreme indeed by the end of the evening.
But as usual the brothers had other refinements in mind. Chains were clipped to their labial rings and fed up through their nipple rings before being attached directly to the ring in the ceiling from which the main chain hung. These were adjusted so that there was less slack in them than in the chain which held their wrists. Paula could see what that meant straightaway. If they lowered themselves to take the strain off their legs, then the chains through their rings would pull painfully up at the labia. And as if that weren’t enough to ensure an amusing display of tortured female flesh, they produced the finishing touch and both Paula and her companion groaned aloud when they saw it. A small transformer was placed on the floor in between them, by twisting their heads they could see the wire trailing from it to the mains. Four thin wires came from the front of it and two were connected to each of two tripods which were positioned between each girl’s legs. On top of the tripods were phallus shaped rods sheathed in leather, and halfway down the shafts Paula could see the glint of metal contacts. To make matters even worse the brothers adjusted the heights of the pillars so that the rods just nudged at the entrance to their vaginas. If the girls accepted the pain of the rings pulling at their lips, they could sink a little way onto the rods, but if they went too far then the moist ti
ssue of their vaginas would make contact with the metal terminals on the shafts which would deliver a shock.
All the elaborate preparations had only just been finished when the rest of the brothers arrived, accompanied by the initiates and the new girls who would be serving. One of the brothers who had arranged their display went casually over to the wall and turned the current on. Immediately Paula felt the phallus begin to writhe lewdly and vibrate between her lips.
That evening always stayed in Paula’s memory as one of the longest of her life. Her legs ached and the idea of what an arousing display she must make, produced an excitement which the constant vibrating at her sex only encouraged. She could feel her lips quivering with desire to grip the shaft and sink onto it. All around her she could see girls being put to use. Hands were run up thighs and fingers probed under the short white dresses, the new girls were frequently on their knees sucking at stiffly erect members. Every now and then one of the men would stop by Paula and her companion to fondle their stretched taut breasts and worsen the torment of their arousal. And the worse the torment; the more Paula could feel her juices flow. Her belly felt as if it was full of molten lava.
She let her head fall back and groaned, dimly she heard laughter at her distress and that cruelty pushed her beyond her rational capability. Her body took over and her trembling legs eased her down onto the maddening shaft. The pain in her labia as the rings were pulled up was consumed by the relief in her leg muscles and she surrendered to the tireless stimulation of the rod which now pushed into her. At last her channel had something to grip and she could feel it contract eagerly around it. She sighed in pleasure and began to move up and down on it in short, careful movements, but the surges of arousal which now ripped through her after so long a delay made her abandon all caution.