Church of Chains

by Sean O'Kane

  “Beat me and fuck me hard! Hard as you can... I need it...” Margaret gasped, lost in a delirium of humiliation and submission, as she saw what was in store for her. She managed one last shriek as Lavinia began, but then could make no more noise.

  Lavinia stood beside her exposed crotch, stomach and cruelly striped breasts and wielded a heavy crop in a steady rhythm of Swoosh! Crack! Margaret’s body bucked wildly at each impact but one of the brothers had rammed his erection into her gaping mouth while the other had pushed himself deep into the moistness of her vagina. In a parody of passion the body on the table shook and rippled under the triple impacts of the two men thrusting and the whip lashing across her. Lavinia had counted only ten lashes before one final spasm ran through Margaret, bowing her tortured body up off the table and locking it rigid for a long second while the men both released themselves into her and pumped their hips mercilessly at her helpless form and she passed out.

  As was her custom, Lavinia had worked naked. Now the sight of Margaret’s final torture had her breathing hard as her stomach rippled and churned with need. Her left hand made its way down to her crotch and she gazed longingly at the men.

  “Brothers, I must confess too. I harboured thoughts of delaying her confession so that I could enjoy myself, while the Patriarch waited.”

  The brothers smiled at her. And while Margaret lay unconscious they put her in the ankle pillory, one which Paula had never experienced, it spread the victim’s legs to a joint cracking extent. But before they hauled her up they tied her hands behind her and anchored her wrists to a chain which was mounted in the centre of the beam of the pillory, and then they shortened it.

  As a result, when she was hoisted up, Lavinia’s body was bent back in a taut bow as she hung head down. They pulled her up to a height where her mouth was available for use, and while she sucked eagerly on one brother, the other plied the whip on her stretched stomach and breasts. But once the brother who was using her mouth began to thrust into her to achieve his release the other shifted his target and lashed Lavinia between her legs, bringing the whip slamming down onto her open lips and fetching muffled squeals of agonised ecstasy from her as she drank in the spend which flooded her throat.

  Then the men changed places and repeated the process, laying on another ten lashes after the second dose.

  And when Lavinia had shrieked and shuddered her way through forty lashes they let her down and released her to lie in a delighted and sweat-soaked heap beside her victim who still hadn’t stirred.

  Some minutes after the men had left, Lavinia climbed slowly to her feet and dressed, then she held smelling salts under Margaret’s nose till she came round, huddled on the floor.

  “Now then Margaret my little bitch. Crawl to me and lick me or I might put the gag back and carry on.”

  Finally Margaret shook her head.

  “No, no more,” she groaned. “Not yet.” She crawled to her new mistress and kneeling up painfully began to lick at Lavinia’s crotch, while she held her skirt up. Margaret put her tongue out as far as she could licking at the livid traces of the whip and passionately tasting the juices which were seeping from the vulva and licking at the hardened clitoris until Lavinia groaned in delight.

  Lavinia stroked her matted hair while she worked; “Now we both know what we like, don’t we Margaret?”

  Margaret broke off long enough to whisper, “Yes, mistress.”

  And when she had at last satisfied her, Lavinia let her confess everything and there was a lot that even Paula didn’t know, involving corruption and perjury apart from blackmail.

  Paula sat in her chair by the infirmary window and gazed down longingly over the courtyard. They had put bars up at the window and the door was locked and guarded, but she was mending fast and wanted only to be back in the monastery again. But she never would be, she knew that now. She was different from the others after all. She could see Caroline and the rest of her group, wearing the longed-for white dresses of the initiates now. She herself was kept naked until the Patriarch decided what to do with her.

  She heard the bolts on the outside of the door being pulled back and the key turning in the lock. The Patriarch entered and Paula immediately stood and adopted the respectful pose she had been taught. As always he moved with economical grace and the bearing of one born to power and crossed the room to stand in front of her.

  “In the Inner Circle Paula, you kneel with your legs apart and your hands clasped behind your head.”

  She obeyed even before the meaning of his words had sunk in. But when it did she couldn’t help looking up in disbelieving joy. He was smiling at her and she bathed in the warmth of it.

  “With a little help from Sister Lavinia the woman called Margaret has unburdened herself of her sins. Of which there were many. You were right on all counts... She responded well to Sister Lavinia and is making good progress. Father Burton has high hopes of her. Now you may stand and show me how your marks are healing.”

  She stood and turned full circle so that he could see how the bruises were fading and how the cuts were healing without scarring. When she faced him again he ran a hand slowly across the smooth curves of her breasts and let his fingers trail across the sensitive flesh of the nipples. Paula felt her chest go so tight she could hardly breathe. Her breasts felt taut and full while her nipples sprang out hard and red almost at once. She could hardly believe that at long last her Master was touching her.

  “You are very beautiful Paula. And the Church needs the services of beautiful women.”

  His index finger was tracing a line down between her breasts and across her stomach. She could make no reply.

  “Kneel down,” he told her.

  She knelt in front of him and at his command opened his clothes to free his sex. It wasn’t fully erect; the hood of soft skin still covered the head. Very gently she leaned forward and let her tongue probe. To her delight she felt him begin to stiffen immediately and as she closed her lips over the top of the member she felt the foreskin peel back and the head emerge. It throbbed and grew in her mouth until it filled her to capacity and still it grew until she had to stretch her lips to their fullest extent before he was fully erect and her cheeks puffed out as she fought to contain his massive sex. When she took her mouth away to run her tongue down the shaft she was thrilled at the length and size of it. She let her lips and tongue kiss and caress the huge purple head until it shone with her saliva, her hand gripped the shaft and she relished the iron hard strength and power of his erection. And as she sank her head over the tip once again, her darting tongue tasted the salty pearls of his fluid which were beginning to appear at the slit. She began the rhythmical movements of her head, up and down which would bring him to his climax. She could hardly wait until she felt the force and volume of his come, she was sure it would be awesome as he spurted himself into her. And at last when she felt the pulses begin to run through the huge member and felt it swell even more she pushed down further still, until she felt him at the back of her throat. But she was too desperate with hunger for the taste of his sperm to care. The floods which finally erupted into her satisfied even her appetites, spurt after spurt slamming against the back of her throat and joyfully she swallowed time and again until she had gathered every last drop.

  As soon as he withdrew from her he told her to undress him and by the time she had, exploring him with her mouth at every opportunity, running her tongue across the broad and muscular chest, letting it delve deep between his legs and in between the hard curves of his buttocks, he was erect again. He took her on the bed and Paula moaned in almost a delirium when she felt his fingers part her lips and begin to toy with an already throbbing clitoris and then push up into her flooding vagina which was trembling with longing. Then at last she felt his huge erection push into her, spreading her lips and seeming to rub every nerve in her channel to the very point of explosive release.

  When he reached full penetration he stopped for a second and smiled down at her before beginnin
g his withdrawal and then thrusting in again.

  There was no need for any words now. All that needed to be said had been said on the platform while Paula was undergoing her worst torture.

  They understood each other perfectly; the ruthless master and the woman born to serve him.

  Paula arched her back in yearning for him to start and wrapped her arms tightly round his back. Then he began. Thrust after thrust rammed into her quivering sex and her body surrendered to a series of silent detonations which ripped her senses apart and filled her brain with whirling patterns of ecstasy. She hardly felt him reach his climax; the ones he drove her to were so shattering. But when Paula at last lay quiet and content, still quivering and feeling little ripples and spasms run through her, her Master cupped her left buttock in one hand and told her he would have her branded there.

  She was taken to his private residence, a huge house in the Midlands, staffed by the Inner Circle. It had extensive cellars which had been converted to dungeons which shamed the ones at the monastery. Paula saw every conceivable device for discipline on display, but each room was comfortably furnished and carpeted for the comfort of those who would watch. The day after her arrival she was tied face down on a table like the one on which she had been ringed. Beside it a white-hot brazier glowed. From the coals Paula’s Master took the incandescent iron, forged in the shape of the X and held it firmly down onto the flesh of her left buttock which sizzled and bubbled. As she arched against her bonds, Paula just had time to smell her own flesh roasting before she passed out.

  Two weeks later she returned to her own flat. A car came for her and she was delighted to see Brother Davis driving. The farther they got from the Patriarch’s house however and the nearer they got to her own, the more Paula became depressed. She had to go back into the world for a while. There was a cover story to be put about, questions to be answered, but she had to do it on her own. And she had been so used to being with others so intimately for so long. At the Patriarch’s house, on the rare occasions when he didn’t want her, she had slept with the others, even Maria. Now her clothes felt constricting and uncomfortable, especially her bra.

  And against the fabric of the seat she could feel the brand on her buttock; a symbol of comfort on the one hand but also a reminder of where she really belonged. When he had seen her off the Patriarch had assured her that when it was safe for her to return, he would contact her. Until then she had to operate on her own and make no attempt to contact him.

  When Brother Davis dropped her off outside the flat which she had left so long ago he tried to encourage her.

  “The call will come Paula. You can rely on that.” She was grateful for his attempt to cheer her up.

  The days which followed were grey and lifeless. She felt lost and adrift, she had no desire to be independent again; quite the reverse.

  Mainly her time was taken up with debriefing. She and the Patriarch had decided on a story which would account for Margaret Barfield remaining undercover for the next two months; she was gathering evidence against the Church, having used her trusted status within it to secure Paula’s release. Paula’s story was that she and the others had only been encouraged towards a reformed lifestyle. While her brand had been healing, she and her master had rehearsed details day after day until she was word perfect. The debriefing was conducted for ten days by a hard-faced inspector from another division and by a female inspector from a division in the north, Laura Patterson. She gave Paula the hardest time, picking over details, time after time until she wanted to scream.

  On a Friday afternoon they finally thanked Paula for her patience and thoroughness, said that there might be a commendation for the way she had handled the situation she had found herself in and that that would be all.

  Paula went to the ladies’ toilets washed her face, combed her hair and set about repairing her make-up. She had just finished and was looking at herself in the mirror when she saw Inspector Patterson enter and come to stand beside her. They were alone. In the mirror Paula saw the Inspector’s eyes fixed on the reflection of her own. But as Paula watched she saw the Inspector’s hand reach down and across to lightly touch Paula’s buttock directly over her brand. Rigid with shock and fear, Paula felt the fingers probe for and find the grooves carved by the red-hot iron, and they traced the shape of the X. She swallowed hard and turned to face the Inspector, who was smiling at her. But the Inspector merely took hold of Paula’s nerveless right hand and guided it to her own buttock where her fingers in their turn traced out the X beneath her clothes. Paula breathed out and sagged against the vanity unit in relief. Laura Patterson laughed.

  “You know how thorough He is. He couldn’t take any chances. But you handled yourself well and tomorrow there will be a car for you, you can post your resignation from the house. He has work for you.”

  He needed her! Paula’s spirits soared; she was going back to where she most wanted to be. Gratitude towards this woman, herself one of the Inner Circle, who had given her the news flooded through her.

  “Now,” the Inspector went on, “I’m staying in town tonight. Why don’t we have dinner together?”

  Paula looked fondly at her kindred spirit. She would gladly do anything for her.

  “Your place or mine?” she asked.

  Chapter 25

  Paula stretched luxuriously in her bath and enjoyed the feel of the warm water flowing round her body, especially between her legs. She reached down and opened her lips with the fingers of one hand to let water circulate more intimately. Laura had been an energetic lover.

  They had dined at her hotel but Laura had insisted that they return to Paula’s flat afterwards. Her reasons only became plain later. She brought with her a sports bag and from this she first of all took a letter. Paula had opened it curiously and read it with gathering delight. It was from the Patriarch; from her Master.

  ‘My Dear Paula,

  Please accept my congratulations for having completed your debriefing successfully. By now of course you will have met Laura properly and I hope you will forgive my having kept an eye on the progress of the debriefing. It was not that I didn’t trust you; I think we have passed that stage. Laura was more in the way of being an insurance policy in case the going got rough, but she assures me you coped magnificently. She has another function to perform however.

  Although I have had you whipped more than any other member of the Inner Circle, I have never whipped you myself. When you return here tomorrow I intend to remedy that. In the meantime I would like you to enjoy Laura. I send her to you as a gift, one that you have more than earned. In addition she has been instructed to offer herself to you in ways which will help you with the work I need you to undertake.

  Enjoy.’

  Laura had waited until she had finished reading and had then taken from her bag a riding crop which she handed to Paula. With hands which trembled from excitement, Paula had taken it and felt its strength and flexibility. Laura had smiled,

  “Where’s the bed?” she asked.

  She had undressed quickly and lain down on Paula’s bed, stretching her arms up to grasp the headboard. Paula had undressed more slowly, savouring the anticipation. How many times had she seen submissively offered female flesh tremble and judder under the whip, how often had her own? But now, by her master’s express command she was to experience the thrill her own body provided for those to whom she offered it.

  She let her hand run caressingly down the shaft of the crop while she looked at the naked woman in front of her. Her eyes travelled from the rounded pillows of her buttocks to the slender waist and then up along the curves of her back and shoulders. And the brand she wore declared that it all belonged to whoever her master wanted to have it.

  Paula’s heart leaped with joy at the first lash. She laid it hard across Laura’s bottom and watched hungrily as the flesh rippled and her head jerked up. From then on she had gone to work in earnest and Laura told her later that it was one of the hardest beatings she had ever had from anot
her woman.

  And Paula knew exactly what her master had meant. She now fully understood the excitement her submission caused and would now be well aware of the effect she could have on anyone he wanted to give her to.

  The car had come for her the next morning and Brother Davis had driven her again. They were equals now but Paula was still grateful for his early awakening of her submissiveness. When they said goodbye, she reached across the car and took his right hand, bringing it to her lips and kissing the palm gently. This was the hand at which she had first suffered; this hand had wielded the first whip she had ever felt.

  She worshipped only one man, but Brother Davis had played a large part in bringing her to the realisation that she needed to worship a master. They exchanged a smile and Paula hoped she might be allowed to see him again one day. But when the car drove away and she turned to see her master waiting for her, all thoughts of anyone other than him immediately vanished.

  He had shown her the room which was to be hers from now on. On her first visit she had stayed in the various girls’ rooms but the thought that she would have one of her own had never entered her head. The bathroom in which she was currently relaxing was itself bigger than the grandest hotel room she had ever stayed in, and more luxuriously appointed. But better than that, spread out on the bed next door was the most beautiful scarlet silk dress. And best of all she was to wear it for her master at dinner that evening.