What I had noticed was that the hooded robes worn by many of the residents of this odd commune made them seem anonymous. It was common see these robed figures walking from place to place within camera view like they were tourists. Sometimes they were accompanied by comely women (and sometimes by young men) in what appeared to be a short tunic, like a Hollywood version of a Roman slave costume. The robes were mostly a light gray, although a few were colored. It must be some indication of rank. Stephen, the inquisitor in the Punishment Hut, had worn green.
Lisa was able to report to us the afternoon after her visit to the Punishment Hut. "I'm sleeping on my tummy, that's for sure. My ass is red as a beet and feels prickly," she said from her closet hiding place.
"But are you ok?" asked Will. "That was some licking you took."
"Yeah, I'm ok. It was really bad, though. I've never felt anything like that whipping in the machine with that switch. I would have done anything to make it stop. I guess you noticed it got rather sexual though."
"We saw that."
Lisa shook her head. "Ohmigod...Will, they put us on those...those...things. I came twice while it was happening. I don't know what to say."
"It's ok--what about Elaine?"
"She's actually kind of torn. She was ready to leave but now she thinks maybe she should stay. She says they are talking about some initiation ceremony and then she will be a Handmaiden."
"What's a Handmaiden?"
"I think it's those men and women in tunics who trot around after the Confessors and the Elite, the guys in the robes. I think they sort of serve them and maybe they are sexual partners...I'm not sure."
"We're just going to have to pull her out. Make it look like she flew the coop on her own--you too," Will added.
"I'm ready. Two spankings and a switching in two days. It's like I'm twelve again and mom's on the warpath. This is too intense for me."
"Listen, Lisa, we need something. Rollin, the guy who came with us, wants to know if you can put your hands on one of those robes, and if you could make a key mold for the building in back of the Punishment Hut."
Lisa said she thought she could. There was a communal laundry of sorts and lots of them were around. She could do the key in fifteen seconds so the trick was not being noticed. She made arrangements with Will to have Elaine near the perimeter of the compound on some pretext. They would do an abduction there and send her back to her father. I hoped that he didn't plan on giving her a spanking when she got home. From the looks of it, she had enjoyed herself.
I snuck through the woods with Jim and Will to an area near a path behind the cabins. I was fitted with a wireless mic so that anything anyone said to me would be transmitted back to camp and recorded. Sure enough, Lisa and Elaine were there. They couldn't risk a scene with Elaine. Before she even knew what was happening Jim had grabbed her from behind and inserted a syringe in her arm. She collapsed like a ton of bricks. As Jim put her in a fireman's carry, Lisa handed me a hooded robe, a grey one. Perfect. I could get to the building and examine the machine inside more closely by pretending to be one of the robed brethren. It would only take an hour and it was dark anyway so I'd be in and out before anyone caught on. After the rendezvous with Lisa, Will had given me a key made from an impression on a resin compound that Lisa had jammed into the lock. More high tech wizardry.
I donned the robe and strolled back onto the grounds, heading in general for the Punishment Hut. The trick is to look like you know where you're going and what you are doing. I didn't want to look hesitant or confused, something that might prompt someone to be "helpful". I was in sight of the building when I was hailed by one of the "Lictors", the church's enforcement arm under the Spartan direction of Ms Klochek. This particular woman, in the quasi-military garb of starched blouse, tan shorts and Sam Browne belt was accompanied by a quite lovely woman in one of the skimpy tunics worn by the Handmaidens.
"I beg your pardon, Confessor...," she began, "but this Handmaiden, Sister Lynne is due for her weekly confession and penance. If you are not otherwise engaged could you see to her? You may use one of the cabins down the path from the Punishment Hut. I was supposed to take her to see Confessor Robert but he has been called away."
Sister Lynne was a pretty and slender bottle blonde with long hair combed to one side and short bangs covering her forehead. She gave me a shy smile and clasped her hands in front of her demurely. She had terrific legs. There was no help for it, I had to play along. I could get inside one of these cabins, put Lynne in the corner or something for her "penance" and slip out to the locked building.
"Of course, officer..." I read her name tag, "Cheryl".
"That's Lictor Cheryl, Confessor. We are called Lictors here."
"Yes, of course," I said, feeling like an idiot. But oddly, she seemed to accept my mistake and take it in stride. Were the Confessors not residents here, but visitors? Even so, you would think that as church elite they knew this stuff.
She led the way down the path to a cabin and unlocked it, ushering us in. Inside was a room with a bed like a hotel room. But there were some extra features surely not found at Motel 6. There was a padded stool and a padded sawhorse, both with buckling straps and padded cuffs on the legs. Along the wall was a St Andrews cross and a sturdy straight backed chair. A pair of manacles hung from the ceiling on a pulley and there was a low padded table with buckling straps attached to it. On hooks were a variety of paddles, floggers, straps and switches. On another table were various dildos and butt plugs along with jars and tubes of creams, lotions and gels. A guy and gal could have a fine old Saturday night in here.
"I will leave you now with Sister Lynne," she said with a broad smile. "Give her a real penance, she has been a naughty girl." She left, closing the door behind her. I decided to try and fake it.
"Sooo...Sister Lynne, you wish to confess to me?"
"Oh yes, Confessor. But first, can I ask you something?"
"Anything, ah, my child," I said in my best stentorian voice.
"Promise me," she said in a low whisper, twisting her fingers together and licking her lips, "promise me you'll punish me hard. And then you'll...take me, make me do things. I'll do anything."
I stepped back, stunned. Here was this attractive woman, in her early twenties I guessed, and she wanted to be punished. Hard, she said. I was trying to stay on task but I had to play a role here so as not to arouse suspicion.
Ah, very well, Sister Lynne, what is that you've done and, uh, how many weeks
has it been since your last confession?" My Catholic schoolboy
conditioning was kicking in.
Lynne took a big breath. "I-I've been...that is, I've p-pleasured myself. At night. When no one was looking. And I've been having terrible thoughts about...doing it."
"I see," I countered gravely. "This is indeed serious. I an glad you have confided in me. We must, however, begin your penance. The cleansing pain of atonement will drive these evil thoughts and deeds away." I'd heard enough of the lingo so this sounded right. I figured to give her the good spanking she obviously wanted and then plan a hasty exit, so I walked over to the chair and moved it into the center of the room.
"Stand at my side, Lynne," I said after seating myself. She moved obediently to my right side and stood, waiting. "Get across my knee, girl," I commanded. She hastened to obey, lowering herself face down over my thighs. After several days in the woods watching the proceedings in the commune, the contact of Lynne's soft body over my knee gave me an instant erection. The little tunic rode up the back of her thighs. She had very nice legs. I flipped the little tunic up, uncovering her seat. Her ass was beautiful. The twin cheeks jutted skyward, attractively contained by silky white tap pants. She had a very full bottom for a thin girl and the lower part of her bottom cheeks peeked out the bottom of the tap pants.
"Are you ready, Sister Lynne," I said rubbing her hind cheeks in circles with my palm.
She squirmed and moaned a breathless, "Yes, sir."
I started spanking the chubby cheeks briskly, alternating sides. She moaned and rubbed her thighs together. Her ass was wonderfully soft and resilient. After about 25 or 30 swats, I stopped and moved my hand to the elastic waistband of the pretty tap pants. Her response was to lift her body slightly permitting me to slip the pants to her knees. Her bare bottom was gorgeous--well proportioned round globes that now bore tell-tale reddish handprints. I rubbed the splendid cheeks then resumed the chastisement spanking with a constant rhythm. Her response was to bob her ass up and down, almost as if seeking to meet my descending hand. The sound of the steady smack! smack! smack! of my palm filled the little cabin. After about a hundred good smacks her bottom was red, my palm was stinging and she was breathing heavily. I moved my hand down between her legs. As I suspected, her sex was slick with arousal. She stiffened as my fingers found her moist slit and she almost purred with pleasure as I manipulated her swollen clit.
"Oh...oh...sir," she croaked, humping her mons against my hand. I kept it up for a few moments then stopped.
"Is that what you felt Sister? Lust?"
"Oh, yes, yes. Oh, it was wicked. I-I should be punished harder, sir." She was panting with desire. Obviously this was going to take longer than I thought......