Church of Chains

by Sean O'Kane

  They stood facing each other. Paula could see how flushed Caroline’s face was and knew that, like her, the thought of an audience didn’t bother her in the slightest. She reached out and touched one of Caroline’s nipples, the beating had made it hard and Paula rubbed it firmly, turning the metal of the ring where it pierced the pink flesh. Caroline came close and Paula pulled her hungrily towards her. They kissed, and their tongues quested deep into each other’s mouths. It wasn’t enough for Paula, she could feel the urgency in herself and she dropped quickly to her knees, trailing her tongue down the slender body until at last it found the bush of dark hair between her legs. Above her she heard Caroline moan and the legs parted further to allow Paula access. She pushed her mouth into the musky depths, using the rings in the labia to pull open the lips and savour the sight of the pink slit of her sex. Then she set about the soft inner lips, sucking and pulling, nipping at the swelling clitoris until Caroline cried out and Paula tasted the pungent juice of her arousal. She felt the girl’s legs tremble and she sank down to her knees to join her and then she pulled Paula down to lie on the carpet.

  As soon as Paula was on her back, Caroline was at her sex. She had never had a woman explore her there and arched her back in exquisite pleasure when Caroline’s tongue began to repay her. She felt it lap and rub at her, persistently and patiently. She arched up even further to allow Caroline to get her mouth right to her hole and lick up into it. Caroline grabbed her buttocks and dug her fingers in, reviving the pain of the lashes and sending fresh waves of pleasure surging through her. Paula tried to reach down between her legs and press the girl’s head even farther in but even as she did, several hard, rasping licks at her throbbing clitoris brought the bright tides of orgasm crashing over her. She writhed and bucked her hips as spasm after spasm swept through her before she finally lay panting on the floor.

  But Caroline was impatient and knelt astride her quickly. She smiled down at Paula and mischievously pulled her arms up above her head and held them with her own hands while she moved up to kneel astride Paula’s shoulders. Then she lowered her wide-open sex onto Paula’s waiting mouth. Held in a position which reminded her of being tied for the whip, Paula relished the sight of it descending towards her, its lips full and soft, swelling open to reveal the glistening flesh within. Caroline moved sinuously as Paula licked at her, sliding her pelvis forward to rub herself over Paula’s tongue and let it probe up into her hole, then moving back to let her suck at her clitoris. And when Paula heard her begin her orgasm she worked even harder, mercilessly driving her on and making her cry and writhe above her. She delved with her tongue and felt the juice flooding from her to mingle with her own saliva and she pushed until her tongue ached and at last Caroline arched rigid for a second, gave one long cry and then collapsed and lay beside her. They lay for a moment face to face, then Paula tentatively licked at the shining fluid spread on Caroline’s cheeks. To her delight she tasted the pungent musk of her own arousal where it had oozed over the other girl. She began to lick more eagerly and Caroline began to stir, realising that she too could taste herself off Paula’s face.

  In only a few minutes of frantic licking and kissing Paula could feel her sex stirring and churning again, the lips quivering. But she wanted to use fingers now as well. She turned herself and knelt over Caroline. Her legs were spread wide over Caroline’s face in complete abandon and Paula reached down to plunge her fingers into the warm moistness of another woman’s sex. She pushed them in as far as she could and watched as Caroline’s hips rose to meet them. At the same time she felt Caroline’s fingers probing her, twisting and turning in her to stir the juices and set yet more of her nectar flowing. Both vaginas made hungry slurping noises as the fingers worked in them. With a moan of gathering ecstasy she bent forward and buried her face once more deep in the soaking darkness between Caroline’s legs. She wriggled her hips to settle her own sex more closely over Caroline’s mouth and set about bringing her to another peak. She knew her position meant that she was totally exposed. Her crouching posture stretched her buttocks tight and her lips would be opening eagerly right above Caroline’s face. She felt the girl reach round the backs of her thighs to hold the lips apart and then her tongue began to lap once more.

  Both girls had been so transported by their passion that they had forgotten their audience. But now, from the corner of her eye Paula saw Brother Davis come to stand beside her. Trailing from his hand she saw a dog whip. He raised it and Paula gave a cry of shock as he lashed her across her buttocks, only inches from Caroline’s mouth working at her sex. She felt Caroline wrench her buttocks apart to let the whip bite into the soft skin at the next lash, under the constant rasping of a tongue against her clitoris and the sharp stabs of pain from the whip Paula was driven to a peak of blinding passion. Her face was buried in the writhing, flooding gash of Caroline’s sex and the taste filled her mouth while her buttocks burned under the whip and her sex rippled and churned under the caresses of Caroline’s tongue. She nearly fainted at this third orgasm which exploded and burst inside her to leave her twitching and helpless in its wake.

  For a moment she went totally limp and felt herself being rolled onto her back. When she opened her eyes it was to see Caroline’s buttocks over her and her swollen sex lips. Without even thinking she reached up and pulled them closer so that she could repeat the experience for her. She pulled the cheeks of her bottom apart and frantically ran her tongue up and down the length of the slit. Just above her was the tight closed bud of Caroline’s anus and she was about to reach for it with her tongue when Brother Davis began to wield the whip again. Fascinated and thrilled she watched as the lash cracked across Caroline just inches from her mouth. Even though they were pulled taut she saw ripples run through the cushions of flesh at each lash and felt the girl jerk in response. One more time she delved with her tongue and took a cruel pleasure in driving her remorselessly on to those heights which she herself had just reached.

  When the nectar of Caroline’s delirious ecstasy lay thick over Paula’s tongue and the whip had ceased to lash at her, she too fell limply onto her side.

  For a long time they lay side by side, heads at each other’s sexes, bewildered and amazed at their own passion. But eventually Caroline’s hand found one of Paula’s breasts and began to stroke it. Paula groaned, she couldn’t take any more. But she had to. They had passed this test and the brothers weren’t about to waste two whipped and aroused slaves with sexes wide open and vaginas desperate for filling.

  Neither of them could remember how many men took them that night, but Paula counted at least two who rammed themselves into her anus. And the sprays of sperm pumped repeatedly into her mouth left her with a delicious taste of mingled male and female climaxes.

  Chapter 21

  On the day of the visit the girls were all mounted and displayed by early afternoon.

  The new girls were displayed on the huge wooden X which had been constructed in the main hall. It started at floor level and went well above the galleried landing, supported by thick ropes mounted high on the wall. The brothers lowered it to the floor to put nine of the girls on it. Each limb of the cross had two girls tied firmly to it one above the other. They were tied full length, arms and legs stretched out, feet and hands together while a thick belt at their waists, tightly cinched around the timber of the cross held their bodies parallel to the wood. In the centre of the display was a girl tied spreadeagle fashion. When they had all been mounted, the brothers hauled on the ropes and the living cross, formed by naked female bodies, rose up to stand at the back of the main hall towering some thirty feet above the floor. The last girl of the group was tied to her own cross which was hoisted up above the entrance to the gallery along which Paula’s group was to be displayed. And as they were marched past to take up their places they couldn’t help gasping at the spectacular sight.

  At first Paula couldn’t make any sense of the preparations which had been made for them. There were ten thick lengths of timbe
r spaced out along the corridor and jutting straight out from the same wall at slightly less than shoulder height, the ends had been planed into dome shapes and covered in leather. Each girl was stood in front of a timber with her back to it and her arms spread and chained back behind her. Her ankles were then spread and forced back against the wall and chained tightly as well. The timber post jutting out into her back below her shoulder blades supported her but forced her upper body out and left her leaning out into the corridor as though she were the figurehead of an old sailing ship. With her arms spread back and stretched apart, her breasts were prominently displayed, and to further emphasise this effect each girl was gagged with a long leather strap, fastened not at the back of the head, but to studs set in the length of timber. This forced her head up and back, pulling the breasts even further up and ensuring that no screaming could spoil the harmony of the display. And before it was her turn to be gagged, Paula managed a look up and down their line. Twenty breasts were all prettily thrust out and ten naked bodies were splayed open. Once they were all gagged, the reason for it became clear. A flex was run down the whole line and a small crocodile clip attached to each nipple ring. A second flex ran along the line as well, this one attached to each labia ring and a smear of electrolytic cream on the sex lips themselves ensured good conductivity. The finishing touch was provided by delicate silver bells hung from each ring at both nipples and labia. Brother Gibson connected the transformer at one end, ensured that each flex was correctly looped to its terminal and experimented with delivering shocks of varying severity until he found the right setting for the rheostat.

  The effect they wanted was to make all ten bodies jerk and stiffen at each shock so that all the bells would ring. Shocks could be delivered either at their sexes and breasts simultaneously or separately; the trick was to find a setting which could deliver a shock repeatedly without making any of the girls pass out.

  Paula felt each hammer blow at her sex strike up into her stomach sickeningly, while the ripples that ran through her breasts seemed to make her teeth rattle against her gag. But after five or six experiments a level of supportable agony which set all the bells jingling had been established.

  They were left to await the visit for an hour or so and Paula found herself moistening in the familiar way as she thought about how cruel and complete the preparations had been.

  At last they all heard the scrunching of gravel at the front of the house as the car carrying the Patriarch and his party arrived.

  Father Burton and the entire staff had gathered in the hall. Paula heard his voice raised in greeting and heard it answered by a voice even more resonant than his. She could make out some words which were congratulating everyone on the magnificent display in the hall, and then the party entered the gallery along which she and her group were displayed. By swivelling her eyes to the side, Paula saw them arrive. First came four women. They had to be part of the Inner Circle, they were dressed in beautifully tailored sheath dresses which were split up to the hip on one side, and as they moved the material parted to reveal a tantalising glimpse of long, elegant leg. Behind them came Father Burton and the Patriarch himself.

  Paula just had time to register his tall powerfully built figure and strong face with the most piercing blue eyes she had ever seen, before Brother Gibson began the display.

  Helplessly she jerked and writhed under the shocks, shrieking silently into her gag. Her hips bucked and her stomach spasmed, her shoulders shook and her back arched in agony. Time and again the shocks came, sometimes just at her breasts sometimes at breasts and sex together. The bells jingled prettily as the ten girls stiffened and slumped helplessly.

  When at last they stopped it took a few moments for the red mist of pain to clear from Paula’s vision. But when it did the Patriarch was standing nearly in front of her.

  He was laughing delightedly. “What a charming display Father! You have excelled yourself!” he said. He waved casually at Brother Gibson and immediately the shocks began again. Paula thought she must pass out this time, but after only three or four they stopped again. Some of the bells continued to ring as girls slumped against their bonds but then there was silence and Paula looked again at the man for whom she and all the rest suffered. He radiated power, simply dressed in an immaculate dark suit and white shirt, there was no mistaking who was in command.

  His eyes seemed to bore into each girl as he walked slowly down their line. When he came to Paula she met his gaze.

  Here was all the power and cruelty which she had come to need. All the power which she had thought belonged to Father Burton and the brothers was only a pale reflection of his brilliance. She would obey any command he gave her, obey any command any of his servants gave her, but somehow she had to get close to him. The piercing blue eyes drilled into her and seemed to see her willing submission because a slight smile twisted at his lips before he passed on. She marvelled at his economical movements, so strong and so utterly self-confident.

  He was power personified. He was the Church. And Paula wanted to be nothing but a tool for his use.

  He passed on and behind him came the four women he had brought. They too gazed at each girl, but with cool contemptuous smiles. The last one, a tall blonde, stopped for a long time at Paula and stared hard at her. And as Paula stared back she realised that she knew the woman. She had seen her somewhere before, but she couldn’t think where. As she searched her memory though a small knot of fear began to form in her stomach.

  The woman herself obviously couldn’t remember where she had met Paula, and looking thoughtful she moved off. Soon the whole party had gone into the room prepared for them and where the initiates waited to serve them. Two of the brothers took Paula and her group down and allowed them only a couple of minutes to recover before hurrying them back to their quarters. Sister Helen was waiting for them with their dancing costumes and there was no time to nurse aching breasts and throbbing sexes. They drew on the thin gowns, brushed their hair and went back.

  The party, along with Father Burton and several senior brothers and sisters were seated in small groups around the edge of a luxurious drawing room that none of the girls had been in before. The initiates were either on all fours with their backs providing footstools for the men and women seated beside them, or scurrying carefully on all fours between tables with trays strapped to their backs from which drinks were taken.

  Paula glanced hurriedly round at the scene as her group took up position in the middle of the room. She noticed the blonde woman looking hard at her again. The music started and Paula focused all her attention on the dark figure holding court in front of her. She let her imagination tell her she was dancing on her own and for him alone, and she knew her body was giving a blatant display of submissive need and invitation. She swayed and writhed seductively as she had been taught to but knew she was bringing to the movements every bit of passion she could conjure up. And for a moment, when the music stopped and all the girls knelt with their legs apart and their hands high above their heads, she thought that she had succeeded in catching his eye. She stole a glance and saw him looking at her. But then he turned to Father Burton and she saw the colour drain from the Father’s face. The blonde woman leaned over and there was a whispered conversation between the three of them.

  And as she watched Paula suddenly felt her world fall apart. She saw the blonde woman in profile and knew where she had seen her before.

  Chapter 22

  Sick with terror Paula stared down at the carpet. But then the Patriarch spoke.

  “You! Come here!” His voice brooked no argument.

  She looked up again hoping desperately that he meant one of the others. He didn’t. Shakily she got to her feet and approached him. The blonde was staring at her in open triumph now, Father Burton was white with fury and the Patriarch had a closed, unreadable expression. He gestured her to her knees again when she reached him and then stood up to tower over her.

  “Your name is Paula, is it not?”

&nb
sp; “Yes Master.”

  “WPC Paula Cheever. You are a spy and an informer against us.” His voice was flat and unemotional, yet it conveyed to Paula depths of anger and cruelty which turned her stomach to water.

  “Master, I am not a spy,” she managed to whisper.

  Her thoughts were racing and raging against this twist of fate. Just as she had found the core of her new identity, the man she knew she wanted to give herself utterly to, her past identity which she had thought finally buried, returned to haunt her. The blonde woman’s name was Maria Hegarty and two years ago Paula had played a large part in having her arrested for running a brothel. Again Paula had been in plain clothes, Maria had got six months and must have gone back on the game when she got out and been picked up by the Church.

  “You are a policewoman. You are a spy.” He stated facts. His voice was so resonant and strong, his personality so overwhelming that Paula had to struggle against admitting any crime he accused her of.

  But she wasn’t a policewoman, not any more. And she wasn’t a spy.

  Hopelessly she murmured, “I am not a policewoman Master. And I am no spy.”

  “Liar!” the blonde shrieked.

  Paula glanced up sharply and saw the Patriarch hold up a hand angrily to silence her. Then the hand descended and dealt Paula a blinding blow across her face. The rings on his fingers slammed into her and she felt her mouth fill with the warm salt taste of blood as she fell. She hit the floor and dazedly tried to wipe at her mouth but two of the brothers suddenly held her arms in their powerful grasp and hauled her up. She saw Father Burton’s face in front of her. He seemed to have controlled his fury but ground out his words between clenched teeth.

  “Put her under the Punishment Wing. She can rot there until we decide what to do.”