Church of Chains (2 page)

The captive ahead of her, a slightly built, mousy-haired girl balked at getting back in and began to scream into her gag. She tried to swing a clumsy two-handed punch at the woman who slapped her hard across the face and pushed her to the ground. Immediately the man was there, standing over her. He was very close to Paula and she could see his whip. With no hesitation he flicked the lash out and began to whip the girl on the ground. Paula reeled back as the whip sang close by her ear when he pulled his arm back. It was a brutally long whip and bit through the white material of the girl’s blouse at almost the first blow while she writhed and screamed on the grass trying to escape the beating but only succeeding in spreading the punishment across her arms, ribs and thighs. Paula had no idea of how many lashes the girl had taken when she heard the one sound she had been praying for: the sound of a car coming up the track.

To her amazement however neither the woman nor the man paid any attention. The punishment went on, the whip cracking across the girl’s back as she now lay exhausted, face down and hardly squirming any longer. She was only capable of sobbing and screaming at each blow, bruised flesh showing through the rips in her clothes. Desperately Paula turned to the car for help and her heart leaped as it stopped, the driver’s door opened and the figure of a policeman emerged.

But her hope turned to complete horror as the policeman sauntered up to the man who was now calmly re-coiling his whip.

“Evening Brother Davis. See you’ve had good hunting then, another load of sluts to be rescued and redeemed.”

The man with the whip smiled. “Evening Brother Willis. Yes it’s a good haul but there’s always one who needs a little extra redemption.”

The men laughed as Paula watched in wide-eyed bewilderment. They bent and hauled the gasping victim to her feet, then urged the line of girls back to their seats while the other line was taken out and then returned. This time no-one protested at getting back into the van.

When the woman, Sister Lavinia, Paula supposed, had finished re-handcuffing the last of the captives and joined the men, the policeman took her by the arm.

“You don’t mind waiting a few moments do you Brother?” he said.

The other man grinned at him. “Of course not. It’ll do this lot good to see how a properly redeemed slut conducts herself.”

Sister Lavinia herself smiled and went willingly with the policeman. Paula saw him settle himself comfortably against one wing of his car and then in a single graceful movement, Sister Lavinia knelt in front of him. All the girls watched as she opened his trousers, took out the stiffly erect member and gently took it into her mouth. She was obviously well practised and took her time licking and sucking at the sex, bringing it slowly to its climax, her head moving gently backwards and forwards. At times she had almost the whole shaft in her throat, at others she just had the head of it and teased at it with her tongue. At last they saw the man dig his hands into Sister Lavinia’s hair as her head went rhythmically, faster now, up and down the shaft and they heard him gasp as he thrust himself hard, again and again, into her mouth. Even when he sagged back against the car and sighed in satisfaction, she didn’t stop. She licked and kissed the quickly shrinking sex until she was quite sure it was clean. Finally, long after his hands had relaxed their grip on her and with that graceful movement in her long skirt, Sister Lavinia stood up.

“Thank you for allowing me to pleasure you Brother Willis,” they heard her say and then she walked back to the van. Paula could see that she was smiling proudly.

“While we’re here I think I might sample the goods myself,” Brother Davis said.

Paula had been the last girl they had picked up and was sitting next to the doors of the van. His torch shone straight in her face.

“Come on you! We’ll start your training right now.”

He climbed in and released her hands again but this time re-fastened them behind her back. Her ankles were freed from the chain and she was pushed out roughly to land on her knees in the grass. Her heart was hammering. She knew what was coming and kept repeating to herself that she had to do whatever it took to keep her abductors happy.

Brother Davis approached her, his hands working at his trousers. When he stood right in front of her his sex was rearing up before her face.

“You can either have the whip first,” he told her, “and believe me you’ll do it afterwards, or you can suck me now and save yourself a beating.”

He bent over her to release the gag. Once she was free of it, Paula shook her head to flick her hair back from her face and made no protest.

“Good girl. Now let’s see if you were worth your money.”

He gripped the back of her neck and she had no choice but to open her mouth wide and take him in. He went straight for the back of her throat.

Paula had never enjoyed giving her boyfriends oral sex. She felt there was a large element of subservience in it, and apart from that she disliked the salty taste of the sperm which she always tried to spit out if they came in her mouth.

But she had never encountered a man who simply didn’t want the caresses of her lips and tongue. He just wanted to use her mouth and throat the same way he would use her vagina. She nearly gagged as the engorged head thrust in as deep as it could and then withdrew only to thrust in again. His hands held her head immobile and her imprisoned wrists left her helpless to stop him. All she could do was open her mouth as wide as possible and try to relax her throat to prevent retching. Relentlessly, and arrogantly careless of her discomfort he rammed himself in time and again until at last the moment she was dreading arrived.

She felt his shaft swell to an even greater size and the pumping begin deep inside it, and his hands tightened their grip. She made a desperate, muffled protest and then it began throbbing and jerking in her wide stretched mouth. She heard Brother Davis gasp and he pulled her head forward as he went for the very depths of her throat. Spurt after spurt of hot semen splashed out and fighting down her revulsion she began swallow it. But he came too fast and hard. Paula began to choke and splutter but he ignored her and held her tight as she fought to get his emission down, and keep it down.

Just when she thought he would surely suffocate her, he withdrew and left her to gasp for air and spit out what she hadn’t been able to swallow. She heard the men and Sister Lavinia laughing.

“Whatever she charged, they didn’t get their money’s worth,” Brother Davis said and retied the gag before bundling her back into the van.

The policeman shouted to Brother Davis that their way ahead was clear but if there was a problem, he should use the false ID. Then the doors were slammed and their journey continued.

Paula felt the eyes of the other girls on her and glanced round. As plain as day she could read the contempt she saw. A prostitute who couldn’t give a blowjob?

Paula tried to come to terms with everything. Obviously the Church of Ultimate Purification was very well organised and had infiltrated more places than anyone had realised. Apart from that they were plainly brutal in their methods. They didn’t make threats, they simply said what they would do and then did it. Paula shuddered; she would have to play the part of a street tart much better. She was terrified of what might happen if they thought she was an informer. And she hadn’t got off to a very good start.

They drove on and on. Paula managed to doze from sheer exhaustion but her arms were hurting savagely and the other girls moaning as well when at last the van stopped once more.

The doors were thrown open and this time it was early morning. Brother Davis grinned at them.

“Rise and shine my lovelies. Come and see your new home!”

Sister Lavinia, whom Paula could now see was a tall blonde with a trim figure but voluptuous breasts, came along the rows. This time she cuffed their hands behind them but unlocked the loops of chain which had shackled them and pulled them free of their manacles. At least this time they would be able to walk properly Paula thought.

They stood in a miserable line across the back of the van and stared round them. They were in the most spacious courtyard Paula had ever seen and one which was surrounded on three sides by two storey buildings and on the fourth side by a huge Gothic house with many towers and crenulations, it looked like a cross between a church and a fortified manor house. The whole complex was plainly home to many people, people who, even at this early hour were getting about their business. Paula saw many more men like Brother Davis, well set up young men in black trousers and white T-shirts, all with a large red X on the front. Some of them, like Brother Davis carried coiled whips while others had riding whips or leather straps tucked into their belts.

There were plenty of girls as well. Some of them wore simple, very short brown shifts of rough looking cloth. Some wore equally short, spotlessly white dresses, a little like tennis dresses, except these were worn with three-inch heels. Their skins were tanned and healthy looking against the white. There were also slightly older women all dressed like Sister Lavinia. The long skirts, Paula could now see were a deep midnight blue but the blouses were crisp and white with strangely high collars but deeply cut V necklines. Everyone seemed to go about their business in almost complete silence she noted. They all seemed to know where they were going and made straight for it. There were no spoken greetings, just nods.

Suddenly a large wooden door in one of the buildings near where they stood was opened by one of the brothers and Paula and her companions stared in horror at what emerged.

Two lines of five girls staggered out. Each line of five had their arms held straight out from their shoulders and thick leather straps wound repeatedly about the arms kept them lashed to a metal bar which ran across all their shoulders. The girls were virtually naked, they had simple plimsoll type shoes on but their only clothing was leather and chain harness. Each had a heavy, metal collar round her neck, and threaded through the rings on these was a thick chain which bound them all together. The harness consisted of two chains which hung from the front of each girl’s collar. These ran down over her breasts and were threaded through rings at the nipples. From there they ran down between the legs. Paula couldn’t see how they were anchored there, but she was soon to find out that each lip of the sex was pierced and ringed and the chains passed through these rings as well. As the two lines of girls passed her Paula could see that the chains were drawn up tight between the buttocks and passed finally through a ring at the back of the thick leather belt each girl wore round her waist. They were then joined and by means of another steel ring were fastened to a leather thong which the brother following the girls was holding. He was thus holding five reins gathered in one hand and in his other hand was a long coach whip. From the metal bar which the girls were supporting on their shoulders four heavy chains hung down and trailed along the ground.

The two men who were driving these teams looked over and saw Brother Davis.

They immediately reined the girls in by pulling at the five straps they each held. This pulled the chains up tight between the girls’ legs. There were groans and squeals of pain but a slash of the whips across their naked backs silenced them.

“A good night’s work brother?” one of the men called out.

“We’ll have a look at them later,” the other added. “A new lot for training’s just what you need after a hard day in the fields.”

Brother Davis and Sister Lavinia laughed. The men waved and then lashed casually at their teams again. The girls started forward and continued towards the gates of the courtyard which were swung open by two of the white-clad girls. Paula and her group watched as the teams, driven by repeated flicks of the whips were driven out and the gates swung shut behind them. They exchanged fearful glances, but then Brother Davis spoke,

“They’ve been here almost a month now and are nearly ready to become novices. They work in the fields to repay the community for their rescue and redemption.” He surveyed their apprehensive faces and grinned again, “You’ll be doing the same soon. But now I want you in the Pen.”

He jerked his head in the direction of the door from which the teams of girls had emerged and cracked his whip close behind them. Slowly the new captives made their way into the dark.

Chapter 2

When Brother Davis had said the Pen, that was exactly what he meant. At the back of the huge room in which they found themselves, and which smelled of horses and leather was a cattle pen. Into this they were herded just as if they were so many cattle. As soon as they were all in, and Paula counted ten of them including herself, Brother Davis opened the gate long enough to select one of them at random. The girl he picked was the one who had been beaten earlier, the rips in her clothes now revealing livid welts. She was led over to a table where a metal collar was fitted to her neck and padlocked on. A leather leash was attached to a D ring at the front and she was dragged out through a door which closed after her and the rest of the party huddled in fearful silence, only able to communicate by terrified looks.

Sister Lavinia stood by the door, smiling at them and toying with her whip.

Paula tried to remain observant. The big room was nothing more or less than a stable. Over on her left there were stalls and four horses were tethered in them.

She had just taken note of this when the screams began from beyond the door through which the first girl had been taken. They seemed to go on for a long time before there was silence. Some of the girls were crying in terror by the time Brother Davis re-appeared and selected the next victim, who struggled this time. The brother took his whip from his belt and delivered three hard lashes to the thinly clothed buttocks of the girl, then she too was collared and led away. Again there was silence for a while before the screams started once more. By the time the third girl had been led away some amongst Paula’s group were shaking and moaning into their gags. After the fifth, and again the screams there was a soft trickling sound. Paula looked round and realised that one of the girls, a young looking brunette in a plastic micro skirt had lost all control through sheer terror. Paula looked at her sympathetically as she shivered in shame and fear.

It was excruciating torture, she thought, and undoubtedly designed to be.

When Paula was led out of the pen there were only two pathetic captives left huddling close together. Once her collar was locked on she was led through the door and found herself in a room with a concrete floor and tiled walls. The floor was awash with water and two more of the brothers stood waiting for her with full-length plastic aprons on. Paula gazed round fearfully, unable to guess what was coming next.

Brother Davis took off her gag, her manacles and at last freed her hands. Paula’s first instinct was to fight her way out but there were three of them and all big men. She abandoned that plan and resigned herself to playing for time.

“Strip,” Brother Davis ordered curtly.

Paula looked at him. He was grinning casually and hefting the whip. For a moment she hesitated and the whip lashed out so fast that she never saw it. Instead there was a loud Crack! and a blinding pain ripped across the backs of her thighs. Instinctively her hands went to cover the hurt and she spun round to hide the area he had struck. Immediately there was another Crack! and this time the pain exploded across her stomach. She doubled over and fell against the wall.

Brother Davis came to stand over her.

“Strip you little slut,” he said quietly.

Gasping and blinking back tears Paula obeyed.

She tried to ignore the looks of blatant lust on the men’s faces as she stripped herself naked in front of them. She had never felt so helpless in her life. These men could do exactly what they liked with her. And she was in no doubt as to what it was they liked. She tried to cover herself with her arms and they laughed.

Leather wrist and ankle restraints were buckled onto her and she was led into the centre of the room. The men went about their work with quiet efficiency now. They raised her arms and clipped the loops on her restraints to a chain which hung down from the ceiling. Each ankle was similarly clipped to a chain. They gave her a chance to see how these chains ran up to pulleys again hung from the ceiling and set some four feet apart, and then down to crank handles in the walls. Brother Davis went to stand against the wall behind her while the other two men went to the handles. Paula’s mind rebelled at what she thought might happen. It was impossible. Surely!

“Take her up lads,” Brother Davis ordered calmly.

She managed one anguished “No! Please!” and then began to scream as the men turned the handles. Her weight came savagely onto her wrists as her legs were taken out from under her and then raised and spread wide open in front of her. The men wound the handles until Paula’s body was parallel with the floor and her head was hanging down helplessly.

Then they turned the hoses on her. There were two of them and both high pressure. Paula shrieked and writhed as a million pinpricks of icy water blasted every square centimetre of her flesh. When at last they turned them off she hung sobbing and exhausted in her chains.

Davis approached her and grasped a handful of hair to pull her head up so that she could look down the length of her body. Between the gleaming mounds of her breasts she saw one of the men standing between her legs with a small steel rod in his hand.

“This’ll swill out any filth you’ve brought in off the street,” he said gleefully and inserted it into her vagina. Paula screamed again in revulsion this time as the cold metal thrust up deep inside her. And then she screamed in shock as icy water flooded right into her. He held the rod in and let her writhe for a full minute before he removed it. Then he bent down to look more closely and insert his fingers.

“Hmm, not been on the game too long have you? You’re not as slack as most we get.”

He gave her a ringing smack on her rump and without any further comment used his fingers to prise open the closed bud of her anus. Paula groaned in pain and utter humiliation.

“Shouldn’t think anyone’s been up this. It’s tight as a duck’s but we’d better make sure.”

Once again the hateful little rod invaded her and once again freezing cold water was blasted into her. This time he kept it on until she thought her stomach would burst. She was past screaming now and could only sob and beg them to stop. When at last they did, they let her down and unchained her. She was allowed to stagger over to a gutter which ran along one wall and squat over it while her stomach and sex emptied themselves.

After some minutes she rose shakily to her feet and Davis approached her. He ran his hands slowly over her gleaming breasts, tweaking and twisting the nipples painfully. Paula moaned.

“Open your legs slut,” he said.

Lost in her misery she didn’t respond in time. She heard a swishing noise and a red-hot blaze of pain exploded across the front of her thighs. Once again she screamed and instinctively turned herself away from the pain. But immediately there was another swish and crack and the pain ripped across her buttocks. Paula pressed herself desperately against the cold tiles as four more lashes were laid on. She screamed as each lash sent spears of hot pain searing through her. Brother Davis repeated his command and this time Paula hurriedly turned and obeyed. She gritted her teeth as the man’s fingers explored her. He pulled open her labia and thrust his fingers roughly up into her vagina which was only lubricated by the water. She gasped and winced as he invaded her, probing deeply at first and then lingering at the nub of her clitoris, stroking, rubbing and circling it. She had closed her eyes to try and shield herself from the shame but as he continued to work on her she opened them to find him studying her face. He was staring hard at her, calm and dispassionate, as if she was some sort of laboratory animal. She closed her eyes hurriedly again. Paula’s body was a blaze of pain even as she was shivering with cold. But to her dismay, as the stimulation went on patiently, minute after minute, she felt herself begin to respond with a moist warmth deep in the pit of her stomach, she was sure she was becoming wet with juices as the pain and pleasure mingled in ways she had never experienced. At last she couldn’t help whimpering and felt that that was the greatest humiliation of all. Brother Davis laughed and withdrew his hand but stared at her thoughtfully. Paula hung her head to avoid his penetrating gaze.

“She’s either new on the game or very classy to be on the streets. But yet she does a lousy blow job.”

He put one hand under her chin and lifted her face. “You’re an odd one alright,” he said. Paula panicked for a moment but one of the other men came to her rescue.

“Don’t knock it Brother. It’ll be a nice change to have a tight little pussy like that to train.”

Davis smiled and released her. “True enough. Anyway we’ve got work to do.”

Paula was pushed unceremoniously into the next room where two more of the brothers were waiting. They ordered her against a wall, spreadeagled, and dried her with rough towels taking every opportunity to explore her body as they did so. They passed admiring comments on her breasts, her long thighs and the unusual tightness of her vagina. Once again she found her most secret places being plundered and explored by casual and brutal fingers. But Paula suffered in silence; she was learning.

When they had finished they put her into what they called a training harness. This consisted of a leather strap clipped onto the ring of her collar and running down to her crotch. Mounted on it were two large phalluses and as the men pulled the strap harshly back between her legs the first phallus pushed imperiously into her vagina causing her to gasp with shock as it pushed her lips apart and thrust up into her. The second did the same with her anus. She couldn’t help giving a little yelp as the rod penetrated the virgin passage and spread the tender tissues. She had never been penetrated there before today, but this was already the second time. The strap was then pulled up tightly, making her cry out again, and the men laugh. Then the strap was buckled to the back of a thick belt which itself buckled tight around her waist. Lastly she was told to fold her arms behind her and her forearms and wrists were bound together. This pulled her shoulders back and pushed out her breasts invitingly. She was told to sit on one of the plain wooden chairs which stood in two rows and faced a small stage at one end of the room, rather like a small classroom. In an ungainly kind of waddle, which the harness forced on her she went to a seat. Her companions were sitting already and Paula noted that Brother Davis had been making free use of his whip on most of them as well. Although they were ungagged, no-one even thought of talking. The dildos pushed up painfully inside her and she found herself squirming in discomfort, as were several other girls.

At last all ten were present and Brother Davis mounted the stage.

“You are scum” he said simply. “You are not yet ready to be even novices. You will earn that privilege and Father Burton will now address you and tell you why you are here and what is expected of you.”

A door at the side of the stage opened and a tall figure in a head-to-toe hooded robe, of the same midnight blue the Sisters wore, entered. Emblazoned on the chest was the red X again. The hood was pulled back and Paula saw a hawk-like face, deeply lined, dark eyed and very impressive. The man was probably in his early fifties she thought, but fit and strong to judge by the confidence with which he held himself.

“I am Father Burton, Master of this monastery of the Church of Ultimate Purification.”

Suddenly one of the captives, a tall girl with short black hair interrupted.

“You’re a bunch of fucking shits! You can’t do this! I know my rights, it’s against the law!”  

Paula groaned inwardly. She knew the type, the barrack room lawyer. Catch them red handed and they would sit in the station all night and swear that black was white. And they knew their rights, oh yes they knew them alright. But this one was too stupid to see that here they were at the mercy of people who considered they had none at all.

One of the men made a move towards her but Father Burton waved him back and let the girl rant on until she had run out of steam.

“Bring the whole class to the Punishment Wing,” he said quietly, and left the stage.

They were lined up in a stone-flagged corridor and made to trot. The brothers’ whips flicked constantly at their legs. Their breasts bounced and the phalluses shifted inside them. They were driven mercilessly onwards making innumerable right and left turns until at last they stopped, panting for breath outside a heavy wooden door. Paula’s large breasts were aching from all the unfettered jiggling and bouncing about.

The door was opened by another one of the brothers, and they were ushered into a dungeon. It was stone walled and the only window was small, heavily barred and high up. The walls were covered with racks of whips crops and canes, together with chains and restraints of all kinds. There were hoods and cruel looking steel masks. The ceiling was festooned with chains which hung down from hooks embedded in it. The girls looked round in wide-eyed terror.

As the loud-mouthed girl was separated off and the rest were herded against one wall, they saw that in the centre of the room a strange looking device was already hooked up to two chains. It consisted of a thick metal bar about three feet long attached by several sturdy straps to soft leather boots at each end. The girl was forced, screaming and swearing to the floor where the boots were put on her. They stretched nearly to her knees and were laced up tightly. Her arms were freed and she struck out ineffectually as her harness was calmly removed. Then one of the brothers began to turn a crank handle on one wall and to the onlookers’ horror she was lifted by her feet until her head hung some four feet off the ground, her arms hanging helplessly down and her legs spread wide apart. Paula could now appreciate the design of the boots; attached by so many straps to the bar they would distribute the weight so that there was no interruption of the blood supply. She could hang there for a long time.