Church of Chains (8 page)

However when he took charge of her he seemed businesslike and not spiteful or gloating. Her heart swelled with gratitude towards him as he led her to where she was to be imprisoned for the day and she tried her hardest to obey his orders instantly. She was taken to a large room this time, in the middle of which two thick wooden posts stood. They were set about four feet apart and to the bases of these her ankles were first attached. After them her wrists were fastened to her ankles so that she was bent over in the classic position for punishment aimed at the buttocks. But Davis was far from finished. He went to where a whole range of chains were hung and picked four fine ones with clips on the ends. Paula couldn’t restrain a groan when he fastened two of them to her labia rings and the other two to her nipple rings.

“I didn’t tell you to make any comment. I’ll punish you for it in a moment.”

He yanked down hard on the chains to her breasts and Paula had to bite her lip to prevent any sound escaping. He too was obviously bent on punishing her for whatever reason. The chains were clipped to her ankle restraints at such a tension that her breasts were extended into curiously pointed shapes. Apart from the pain, she was terrified of the metal rings being pulled with agonising slowness through the flesh and tearing free. He did the same with her labia rings, pulling until there was a burning ache deep in her sex.

“Don’t worry. They won’t tear,” he told her. He went back to where he had got the chains from and returned with a ball gag. It wrenched her mouth wide open and blocked it to the point of making her panic, but she found that if she kept calm she could breathe just freely enough. She knew she was facing a whole day tied in this posture and didn’t think it could get any worse but as a finishing touch Brother Davis passed a steel bar behind her head. It slotted into holes in the posts and passed through the ring at the back of her collar, pulling her head up so that she had to look ahead of her. Then he squatted down in front of her and looked her in the eye.

“You are nothing. Do you understand that Number Three?”

She tried to nod.

“It doesn’t matter in the slightest to me or any of your masters whether we make you scream with pain or pleasure. We will whip you for any reason we like. And we will go on doing it until you learn that in the eyes of the Church of Ultimate Purification you are nothing.”

She tried again to nod her understanding.

“Over the next few days we will see. And if we think you haven’t learned that, then you will go back to the beginning and do the whole month again.”

She tried frantically to shake her head.

“Oh yes you will,” he said, “and the first thing I will do is flay every square inch of skin off your back.” He stood up and she was left to stare straight ahead of her, aghast at his words. But still he hadn’t finished. He unslung the whip he carried from his belt and showed it to her. It was a simple, single leather lash but the handle was in the shape of a very large phallus.

“Now I’m going to punish you. And then I’ll leave this for whoever wants to use it on you.”

He went behind her and gave her six lashes. Her buttocks were already badly marked from Brother Harris’s whipping and Sister Lavinia’s crop, but he didn’t let that bother him. Her eyes bulged and she made hopeless muffled whimpers into her gag as he set to work.

Her position meant that her buttocks were drawn very tight and her sex was blatantly exposed. The whip cracked across its lips which were drawn open by the rings and it stung maddeningly at the pink flesh of the inner lips. He didn’t let the lash wrap round her hips but played it full and accurately right on her bottom. Each stroke landed heavily on the already crimson skin where the crop had left its narrow ridges. She would have howled the house down if she could, but even that relief was denied her. And any movement whatever was impossible, she couldn’t even wriggle, she just had to absorb each burst of pain and wait for it to build, lash by lash until her whole body was ablaze. When he had finished he simply shoved the whip handle deep into her vagina and left the lash to trail down between her legs. Then with a final admonition to think about his words he left her.

The pain of having the phallus rammed violently into her dry channel at first eclipsed the fires raging across her bottom, but as it dulled the pains merged and became indistinguishable. The whole area of her loins throbbed and hurt. And to make it worse she was acutely aware of how lewdly she was exposed to anyone coming into the room. She was bent right over, obviously well whipped and the lash hanging down from her wrenched open sex announced quite plainly that she was there for more if anyone wanted to administer it.

Time passed with agonising slowness, and in the silence she distracted herself from the discomfort by trying to understand why they were doing this to her. Once again they had humiliated her beyond anything she could have imagined. But why? She had submitted to them, she had been beaten and she had taken it. She had been raped again and again and she had opened herself obediently. There had even been some perverse pleasure in the arrogant way the sexes of her masters had plunged into her wide-open mouth and sex. Once again tears of self-pity sprang into her eyes when she remembered how she had been so proud of her obedience, of taking so many men in her mouth that night in the Lounge. At that she felt the first stirrings of warmth in her belly and the discomfort in her vagina eased as it lubricated around the leather shaft which was stuffing it.

Her thoughts were rudely broken into by the door crashing open, and Brother Gibson entered with one of the initiates. They ignored her totally and she watched as the girl shed the little dress which Paula so coveted, peeled down the thong back knickers and stepped out of her shoes. She was a shapely brunette with high, well-rounded breasts. When she was naked she adopted the position which Paula had seen adopted by all the senior girls when in the presence of a master. She parted her legs, put her hands behind her back and looked down.

“Father Burton has decreed that as you are to go out into the world to continue our work in a few days,” Brother Gibson told her, “you are to spend today in contemplation of all you have learned here. Above all you will think of your absolute obedience to the laws laid down by the Church.”

“Yes Brother. I will do so gladly,” the girl replied.

Paula watched in fascination as the girl was mounted for her period of contemplation. Her labia rings were clipped like Paula’s but the chains were run up to her nipples and clipped to the rings there. Further chains were clipped to her nipples but left hanging for the moment. The girl held out her wrists without having to be told and even smiled at Brother Gibson as he clipped her restraints to heavy chains which hung from pulleys in the ceiling. The brother went over to a crank handle set in the wall and turned it until the girl was hauled up by her wrists so that her feet dangled two feet off the floor. She let out a gasp as her weight came onto her arms and stretched her body so that the chains from her sex to her breasts became taut. But as Paula watched the brother now clipped the chains from her breasts onto her wrist restraints, pulling them up and increasing the tension from her labia. As the girl was hanging directly in front of Paula, she could see how the lips were being yanked brutally upwards and apart so that she could see the pink gash of her sex.

Brother Gibson pushed a small platform under the girl’s feet and watched as she scrabbled for it and found relief from her suspension by being able to stand on tiptoe. But to her horror, Paula had seen that the top of the platform was covered in metal spikes. Once again she felt that strange admiration for the Church’s ability to refine and prolong torment. The girl could relieve the pain in her arms, breasts and belly by standing; but only until the spikes threatened to puncture the skin under her toes. Then she would have to let herself swing again until the pain became too bad and she would have to swap it for the slow pain in her feet. And as the day wore on, Paula could see that she would have to swap more often and eventually she would probably have to let the spikes drive into her. Then each pain would be as bad as the other.

The brother came to stand just to one side of the girl and began to stroke his fingers along the tender flesh between her open lips. Paula’s mouth went dry as she watched them rub and circle the little bud of her clitoris, making it swell and engorge despite the girl’s plight. In only a few minutes she heard the girl groan and sigh. The flesh of her sex was now glistening with juice and the hand of her tormentor went on working at it. Eventually she gave a despairing gasp and let herself swing. Immediately she opened her legs and Paula saw Brother Gibson’s hand probe into her hole. Her own vagina responded as she watched his fingers disappear into the girl and then withdraw, shiny and slick. She could even catch the musky scent of the girl’s arousal as she swung by her arms and tried to grip her thighs around his questing hand. He laughed softly and pulled the hand away. The girl moaned desolately.

“Not yet my girl. Not for a long time yet.” He ran his hand over the smooth swell of her hips and round behind to her buttocks. “You can have the whip later. I promise.”

Then he turned to Paula. “But this one needs it now I think.” He removed her gag and held the fingers which had probed into the other girl in front of Paula’s mouth and she didn’t need telling. He wouldn’t put them into her mouth though, he made her lick at them, curling her tongue round them one at a time until he was satisfied and replaced the gag. The pungent taste of arousal and the cruelty she had witnessed had set waves of heat spreading throughout Paula and she could hardly feel the shaft of the whip handle, so open had her channel become. Brother Gibson moved behind her and pulled it out making her cry out in shock.

“Well now, that’s better,” he said, “nicely lubricated. The sight of discipline’s getting you good and hot. A real slave at last maybe. And that’s what we need Number Three, slaves for the Church.”

And then he whipped her. This time the lashes were directed at the tops of her thighs. The pain in her sex as the whip slammed across her lips which were not only pulled open now but peeled apart and engorged by excitement, made her try to bounce up and down on her imprisoned feet. It was the only movement she could make in response to the flashes of agony. Each remorseless Smack! echoed round the room just a split second before her agonised but muffled screams and sent wave after wave of bright pain lancing through her. Paula could tell by the way he took his time between each lash that he was enjoying every second of his power to whip the helpless sex in front of him.

And at last it all became clear to her. He didn’t care about her pain. All he was doing was taking his pleasure. He could fuck her or flog her as much as he liked. Beyond being a body which gave him those options; she was simply nothing.

She was here to be a slave. A slave to the teachings of this Church, which put men in Mastery over her. A slave could have no pride in her slavery. She could have no feelings except those she was allowed to have. If she was punished, it didn’t matter that there was no reason. She was helpless in the face of whatever they wanted to do to her.

Smack! Yet another lash whipped across her lips and as she understood at last the depths of the submission required of her, a surge of arousal swept up inside her. The day of her ringing had only taught her a part of what she needed to understand. Pleasure and pain were the masters’ to bestow, she had understood that. But now she knew she had to abandon herself entirely. She only existed at all in order to have them bestowed on her.

Smack! Another lash and with the pain, another wave of heat.

Yes! She thought, it doesn’t matter! I don’t matter! Whip me Brother, whip me as much as you like. I am nothing except what you make me.

Smack! And this time she tried to push herself up to meet the pain and expose herself more eagerly. But now the pain was triggering the most powerful waves of sensual pleasure she had ever experienced. And they fed on her knowledge of her own willingness to open herself to anything which was required of her.

Smack! Another surge of exquisitely mixed pain and pleasure made her wrench at her shackles and she longed to be able to tell Brother Gibson all she now understood.

Smack! Paula found herself becoming almost dizzy with delight at her own submission and realised that she was going to come. Her sex was responding more eagerly to this pain than it had ever done to any other stimulation.

The whipping stopped and Paula groaned into her gag. She could feel the swollen and livid lips of her sex quivering in anticipation of an orgasm more strange and more devastating than she had ever had before. She had to experience it! But instead she felt the brother’s fingers find their way into her soaking entrance, she moaned in despair as he ignored her clitoris and withdrew from her. Another lesson. She would only be allowed to come when they wanted her to. And the pleasure of that realisation itself only heightened the urgency in her belly.

Brother Gibson wiped his fingers dismissively on her back, replaced the whip handle in her vagina checked her bonds were still good and tight, and then he left and Paula’s torture was complete. She was almost fainting with the need for something or someone to move in her channel, to stimulate her the way only a male shaft could. But although impaled on a phallus, she couldn’t move.

Chapter 10

From time to time during that agonising day, one or other of the brothers would look in on the tortured girls. Paula had to endure in silence. Although her vagina felt full it was desperate for the release of an orgasm. And added to the almost physical ache in her sex, there was the very real pain of her bondage.

The initiate who suffered with her at least had no gag and could moan as the see saw of pains grew slowly worse.

At last Brothers Harris and Gibson entered.

Brother Harris attended to Paula. And it was a very different Paula now. He wrenched the whip out of her and commented to his companion that it looked as though the slut was truly tamed to judge by how she had juiced all over the handle. But then, to Paula’s relief he began her final whipping. It was a savage one and she was grateful for it.

He removed her gag before he began and she was able to ease the ache in her stiff jaw muscles.

“I’m going to give you a real thrashing now,” he said, “and we’ll see if you’ve learned your lesson. How many lashes shall I give you Number Three?”

“Master, I will be glad to take as many as you please to give me,” she replied without hesitation.

“Good answer. I think we’ll just see how many you can take.”

Once again he played the whip over the tender flesh of her lips where they pushed back towards him from between her thighs. She could feel now how swollen and open they were but only wished she was free to expose them even more for him. She was eager for the stinging bite of the leather lash, knowing it would finally unleash the storms of pleasure which were dammed up inside her.

At first there was only the excitement of the echoing Smack! ricocheting around the room and the bitter pain knifing through her, but after only three hard lashes she felt herself transported by the pain and the cruelty. She loved being able to gasp and cry at each blow now, knowing it would increase his pleasure in whipping her. The fires in her belly began to glow with white heat. She felt floods of sweet juices release inside her and yelled all the more as the blows became harder. He must be able to see how juicy I am, she thought. I’m pulled wide open and I must be running with the stuff.

It was a real thrashing by now. The whip rained lashes down on her and she was past caring. He didn’t wait for the effects of each one to register, and she could picture his face alive with the joy of beating her. Faster and faster the lashes came and wilder and wilder became the swirling chaos of joy in her whole being. Until finally an explosion of colour, sensation and emotion went off somewhere deep in her belly. She shrieked and went rigid in her bonds while her vagina went into helpless spasms. And at last the whip changed direction, cracking down vertically and slicing along the open slit of her sex to push her over the edge and into unconsciousness.

When she came round, at first all she could hear was the whip still being plied. A girl was screaming and it must be her she thought. But then she realised she was lying on the floor and the most delicious sense of fulfilment pervaded her aching body. She knew now that she loved the burning traces her masters’ whips left on her. She opened her eyes and saw the initiate being whipped.

Brother Gibson had kicked away the platform and the girl was swinging freely as she writhed and screamed. Paula watched transfixed as the screams became moans and her body’s gyrations at the end of its chain became more languid and sensual. And at last each lash was greeted with a breathless cry of pleasure and Paula saw her sex gleaming with the nectar of her arousal. When the lash began to curl round her taut breasts the cries became more urgent and finally they reached a climax which sent ripples spasming through the whole length of her tortured body. And only when the girl hung motionless did they take her down to lie sobbing and gasping at the feet of her masters.

Brother Harris attached a lead to Paula’s collar and led her back to the cells on all fours. She no longer cared. The humiliation meant nothing to her any more. In fact she would be grateful if they gave her permission to enjoy it. There was nothing they couldn’t do.

The rest of her group were having supper, he told her when she was back in her cell. There was food by her bed but before she ate that... He didn’t finish his sentence but simply undid his trousers.

Paula wasn’t surprised. She knew by the heat in her bottom and thighs just how much of a thrashing she had taken and how much he would have enjoyed giving it to her. It was only fair, she thought, as she knelt up and began to lick carefully up along the ridge of his shaft. As she let the shining purple head caress her cheek and felt the hardness of his erection in her hand, Paula knew that she would feel no pride now when he emptied himself into her, just the satisfaction of having had a master pay her enough attention to enjoy her. And she owed him a debt of gratitude; he had taken the time to give her a really good thrashing.

Very carefully she let her lips and tongue tease and stroke his member. She tried to blot out any pleasure she felt and concentrate solely on his. At last she felt him grip her head and give a guttural moan. She rubbed her tongue quickly against the sensitive spot on the underside of the head and then held him tightly as he bucked against her grunting with the effort of ramming himself into her. Eagerly she swallowed the warm fluid jetting into her throat and relished the taste of maleness. It was the taste of the Master who would use her at his pleasure and into whose absolute power she now gave herself. She went on licking at him long after he had finished pumping himself into her, working at the shrinking sex to make quite sure it was clean. The image of Sister Lavinia kneeling in front of the policeman the night she was captured came back to her. Now she understood why she had taken so long about cleaning him.

And of course she understood what Sister Lavinia had told her in the Games Room. Of course she would welcome a thrashing now, and enjoy it.

“Good. I think you’re going to be alright Number Three,” Harris said as Paula regretfully allowed his sex to slip free of her lips. “But you will be required in the Games Room soon. You may eat now and then wait.”

He left her and Paula calmly ate her food, then sat on her bed and awaited whatever would come her way.

Four of the brothers came for her.

They unlocked her cell and entered. Suddenly four big men in her tiny cell made Paula feel very small. It was an exciting feeling. They crowded round and towered above her. She tried to adopt the position she had seen the initiate take, earlier in the day. But one of them gave her the order to turn right round. She did so slowly and parted her hands to allow them to see the devastation her repeated whippings had brought to her backside. A cool, strong pair of hands fondled her buttocks.

“She takes a good bit of punishment. Mind you she looks strong enough.”

One of the men moved round to stand in front of her. He reached down and felt the long muscles of her thighs. “These could take you for a good ride brothers!” he said. Paula kept her gaze averted downwards and accepted all the comments as nothing but compliments paid to a mechanism which was suited to their purposes. She watched the man’s hands move up her thighs and grasp the rings at her sex. He pulled at them, opening her as she had been most of the day. “I think I’ll try in here first, and then see what the rest of her’s like.”

He moved away behind her and another man took his place. This one was interested in her breasts. He took them in his hands and held them as if to weigh them, then rolled his hands round them and pulled at her nipples. With a shock Paula recognised him as the brother who had pierced her there. She couldn’t help a little gasp at the sharp pain. At once she was sure she would be punished but there was only laughter. “Come on then brothers, let’s get started,” the one who had pierced her said.

They pulled her arms round behind her back and took her wrists up to between her shoulder blades before fastening them, and then pulled a short chain tight between the back of her collar and her wrists. This made her arch her back and display her breasts. But with her head pulled back it made walking difficult. She stumbled several times on the way into the house and up the stairs to the Games Room. She heard noise and laughter coming from the Lounge as they turned into the last corridor and then into the Games Room itself.

She was steered towards a corner beside the fireplace at which she had been whipped before. She was made to stand facing the wall and her legs were roughly kicked apart. Paula waited patiently, gazing at the wall in front of her. She was delighting herself with the thought that she didn’t exist for them as a person, simply as a body.

The brothers continued to talk for a while and exchange comments about that body until finally she heard footsteps approach her. They came close enough for her to feel the pressure of a man’s naked body against her back. Her imprisoned hands were pressed against his chest. She couldn’t suppress a sharp intake of excited breath. Were all the men naked?

On the occasional nights when she hadn’t fallen straight into exhausted sleep she had stirred in her bed and felt herself moisten at the memory of Brother Davis’s firm muscular body pressing down onto her that very first day.

Her hands were released and she was allowed to turn around. All four of them were indeed naked. Two lounged on a large sofa and one stood against the billiard table. In a quick glance before looking down again Paula registered the ridged stomachs, the broad shoulders and strong thighs. She felt a tightness at her breasts as her nipples began to engorge and her belly turned to molten liquid. She was left in the middle of the room for a moment while the brother who had freed her went to the cupboard from which Sister Lavinia had selected her whip. But when he returned he wasn’t holding a whip. Instead he held the largest dildo Paula had ever seen or could have imagined. It was sheathed in leather which had been worn smooth. But it was the sheer size which riveted her gaze. Its massive head was even equipped with a representation of the slit which a real phallus would have and she could see how the veins on the shaft had been carved under the leather sheath, but surely no vagina could accommodate that monster. He thrust it at her. “Masturbate with this,” he told her.

She took hold of it with a suddenly shaky hand; her fingers couldn’t come anywhere close to encompassing the shaft. The brother joined his companions and Paula felt their eyes on her.

A straightforward whipping wouldn’t have bothered her in the slightest but she simply didn’t know whether it was possible for her to do what she had been ordered to do. But she knew that once again she was being tested.

She gazed down at the shiny hemisphere of the huge head and felt her vagina begin to dry and contract. Paula risked one more glance at the brothers and noted that their sexes were beginning to wake and throb towards erection, and she noticed too the corded muscles of their arms which wielded the whips so powerfully. Those whips which had taught her so much about herself and which now took her farther than she had ever believed possible. But now she had to inflict on herself more than she believed she could take.

Standing alone, she opened her legs wider and began.