Church of Chains Read Online Free PDF Page A

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