Free Church of Chains by Sean O'Kane

offered up helplessly from their bent back bodies.
    There was no support for her head so as the hours passed she alternated between letting it hang down and staring up at the ceiling, with craning it painfully up so that she could squint down and see the gold gleaming where it was irrevocably embedded in her body. When all ten girls had been pierced and mounted, Father Burton came to address them.
    “Today will be a day of Contemplation,” he told them.
    Contemplation days, they were to discover, were something they would come to dread.
    “For the rest of the day you will stay here,” he smiled at the chorus of muffled groans which greeted this announcement. “You will think of the chaos of sin and wickedness in which you lived your previous lives and how you now have discipline and authority to guide your steps along the paths of righteousness. You will think of the rings which now mark you as the property of the Church of Ultimate Purification and consider how you can best serve the Church to repay it for your redemption, and how utterly you are now bound by its rules.” He paused for a moment and smiled. “At this stage of your purification you will probably harbour thoughts of rebellion and possibly even escape. Forget them. In time I promise you that you will come to thank us and you will not want to leave.”
    Paula listened in disbelief. All her thoughts about the way her body had reacted to her submission of the previous night had gone. There was only outrage at the way she had been mutilated. WPC Cheever was back. She had to get out. Somehow she had to get out. And when she did they would pay for what they had done to her.
    But the day wore on and on and no numbness came to alleviate the discomfort of their bondage. It simply got worse until Paula lost all her anger and sank under the pain which slowly but inexorably climbed up and up to become agony. All the girls cried and moaned but no relief came.
    Occasionally one of the brothers would enter and work his way down the line, turning the rings so they wouldn’t stick to the wounds, then he would leave them again and their despair deepened every time. The demands of their bodies couldn’t be entirely denied and as the hours wore on, more and more frequently Paula heard the sound of trickling liquid as one or other of them gave up the fight and let go. Even Paula herself did at last. She cried with humiliation as she did so.
    Truly they had reduced her to nothing now, she thought. No dignity, no choices, just an anonymous instrument for the pleasure of men; decorated to their taste and tortured at their whim.
    At last she came to realise that even if by some miracle she did escape, it would do her no good. She could never again be who she had been. She would always carry the knowledge that these men had made her enjoy being raped by them, had made her bend over and be beaten without even having to hold her down. And even if she ever got rid of these rings, she would always know that she had carried them and in the privacy of her mind had harboured a secret admiration for the way the church enforced its discipline.
    There was no going back. The only reality was this agony, and the men who had inflicted it and could stop it. They had the power, they had the control.
    And before they were released, that control was demonstrated.
    Brother Davis and nine others entered. They untied the gags and then stood back. There were several minutes of gasps and cries of relief as stiff facial muscles were worked again.
    “You will now beg us to release you,” he said.
    Without a second thought Paula joined the chorus. “Please Master! Please untie me!”
    “In a minute,” he replied smiling thinly. The men now approached them and turned the rings once more, but then they set about calmly feeling deep into each girl’s vagina. Paula couldn’t believe it as the fingers probed inside her and the heel of the hand began to stroke and rub at the clitoris.
    “Please