Church of Chains (21 page)

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.

Chapt
er 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 another 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.

Bathed and relaxed, she took her time applying perfume under her breasts and between her legs. She took an age to apply exactly the right shade of lipstick and the right amount of lip gloss, in exactly the right way and only when she was quite certain that she looked as good as she could did she slip the dress over her naked body. The neckline plunged right down between her breasts, while over them it clung and moulded itself faithfully to every contour. Like the dresses the others wore, and which she had admired at the monastery, it was split right up to one hip. She walked and twirled in front of the mirrored wall of her bathroom and admired the way the material concealed and revealed by turns. But the crowning glory to her mind, were the fine chains to be worn at wrists and ankles, they had delicate silver bells attached, slave bells, which tinkled softly at every movement. Round her neck she wore a silk choker which matched the scarlet of her dress.

She dined alone with the Patriarch that night.

When she descended the main staircase and entered the dining room, he was waiting for her, immaculate in evening dress. He had even kissed her hand. But then he had stunned her as he led to the table.

“In your honour Paula, I have provided some entertainment. I think it will put us both in the mood for what we know is to follow,” he told her. She looked towards the other end of the long dining table and saw one of the other girls hung by her wrists from two chains which came down from the chandelier above her. Paula couldn’t tell which girl it was because she was hooded completely, the hood even incorporating a gag. Her nipples were clamped and weighted with heavy spiked balls.

“I’ll have her whipped while we eat,” the Patriarch said. Paula knew that the other girls would have envied this one the chance to display the pleasure she took in his total dominance. But even so the casual cruelty set Paula ablaze, as it always did, and even as she took her seat she found herself pressing her thighs together to try and stop the juice of her arousal soaking her dress. At a signal from the Patriarch another girl stepped forward and placed herself behind the chained one. She held a whip, Paula noted that it was not a particularly severe one, having many lightweight lashes, but it was one which a girl used to being beaten with heavier whips could take almost indefinitely and enjoy.

The Patriarch waved a hand as the girl who was waiting on them poured his wine.

“Indefinite number of lashes. Bring her round as necessary.”

The meal began to the heady sound of leather smacking on female flesh, and being answered by muffled grunts which slowly changed to groans of pleasure. As time went on there were more and more pauses while the chosen girl writhed and shook as orgasm after orgasm pulsed through her. Then the remorseless rhythm of the whip would start again, and Paula was deeply impressed by the girl’s ability to maintain consciousness under the barrage of ceaseless stimulation.

Despite the arousing spectacle of the whipping girl twisting and writhing at the end of the table, Paula couldn’t take her eyes off her master. She breathed in every detail of the way he so casually and gracefully accepted the subservience of those around him. She hung on his every word as he told her about his plans for reforming the evils he saw around him. All the time her arousal was being racked up by the steady Thwack! Thwack! of the whip on the body of one of his devoted slaves and she knew what she was waiting for above all. To belong to him utterly at last.

After a long meal, fine wine and a glass of brandy, the Patriarch waved at the girl who was handling the whip. It fell silent and at last the stretched body in chains was allowed to slump forwards as it was taken down. But he and Paula were looking only at one another.

“I will whip you now Paula,” he said quietly.

“I know Master,” she replied.

He took her to one of the basements and watched as she let the dress rustle slowly to the floor and lie at her feet. She raised her arms obediently as he buckled restraints onto her wrists and then tied her wide-spread arms to a steel bar and hauled her up till she hung in agony a foot above the ground. And then he whipped her. He used a long whip similar to the horsewhips she was accustomed to, but this had a lighter lash which prolonged the ordeal and slowed the long climb to ecstasy.

Paula felt as though a dam had burst inside her at the very first lash. She had waited so long, she forgot all her training and let her excitement grow as it would while she writhed and screamed under her Master’s relentlessly steady lashes. Her sex lips quivered and fluttered with longing for him, her belly burned with arousal and her breasts felt as tight as drum skins while her nipples thrust out in rock hard little points. She counted the lashes out loud and came at the fifteenth. He stopped and let her get her breath back before he continued. Another climax ripped through her at twenty five and at thirty lashes she went rigid as the brightest explosion of sensuality she had ever known burst deep in her belly and she almost fainted before he released her.

He took her on the carpeted floor of the room they were in and his powers of self-control drove Paula wild with desire. He took her first in her anus until she came again as the huge shaft stretched her tissues to tearing point, and his hands cupped her breasts and stroked her weals. Then he turned her and used her belly until she was limp and inert, just crying out as one orgasm after another shook her in every limb and her body jerked helplessly as he drove into her time after time. And only when he finally withdrew from her gaping sex did he allow himself his release. He rolled onto his back, grabbed her hair and thrust her face down onto his still, rock hard shaft. He pumped his seed deep into her throat and Paula, lost in an erotic dream and sucking on the huge member which had plundered her back and front passages and which now gagged her, distantly heard his cry of joy and swallowed as fast as she could with the very last of her strength until he slid out of her and she fainted.

A week later she performed her first task for him. The Patriarch summoned her to his office one morning and showed her a file. She was amazed to see that it concerned a very senior government minister.

“There is some legislation going before Parliament in the near future and this man can steer it through. It will greatly benefit the Church; therefore we must make sure we control him so that he does exactly what we want. I am going to offer you to him Paula.”

“Of course Master.”

“Men who are already corrupt are easy to corrupt even more. That’s why the Church needs the services of beautiful women. Let this man think he controls you Paula, let him think you are his slave. And he will be our slave.”

“The Honeypot, Master,” Paula said laughing.

He smiled at her and reached out to put his hand up her short skirt. He stroked the slit of her sex affectionately but wouldn’t be distracted. “Precisely Paula. The Honeypot. Now look at these and see what it is he likes.”

She looked at the sheets of the dossier. The research was thorough, it even stated that the riding crop was his preferred instrument of discipline but there was something else. And just as she was about to turn and ask her Master, he placed a handful of long, thin needles on the desk.

“These,” he said, anticipating her question, “he likes to use these. They can be inserted into the flesh in various sensitive spots. They cause a lot of pain but leave virtually no trace.”

Paula reached out and touched the wickedly sharp points.

“It will be something new Master,” she said smiling at him.

The minister was invited to dinner that night and she sat next to him. When his third glass of wine had been drunk she leaned towards him and placed her hand over his. He turned to her and Paula watched as his gaze travelled down her cleavage and then along her naked arm until it got to the chain at her wrist and the bells.

“I’ve listened to some of your speeches in the House,” she said, and then spoke softly, “I would say you have a… needle sharp wit.”

She looked steadily at him and he looked back for a long time. “Do you take an interest in politics... at the sharp end?” he asked finally.

Paula laughed huskily, the fires in her belly igniting at the thought of her master giving her to this man to do as he pleased with. “I’m sure I could be made to,” she said.