I don't know how she did it, but her timing was excellent. Just as Lola reached her peak I heard a key in the lock, and as the door swung open her orgasmic scream echoed down the corridor beyond. She very quickly fell silent though, when she saw who was coming through the door. We had expected to see the Sister from the night before, and indeed she was there but she was naked, her hands chained behind her back, being led by her nipples just as I had been earlier. The chain from the nipple clamps was being held by one of the girls who had shaved me last night, while the other girl walked behind her with a riding crop, hitting her whenever she hesitated. Finally, Father John himself walked into the room.

"Novice Lola, that is hardly behaviour that I would expect from a girl who is about to graduate to become a full member of the Church. However, I have greater fears for your graduation after hearing that you have a punishment outstanding from yesterday. The Sister here has confirmed that she had no real justification for issuing that punishment, but it must still be carried out and the Sister herself will also be punished for failing to administer it properly. And since it is clear you have been torturing this poor lady, it is only fitting that she should carry on from where she left off yesterday and administer your punishment herself."

"No, I couldn't!" If I couldn't hurt Lola yesterday, there was even less chance of my doing it today after a night of lovemaking, but I forgot about the insidious effects of the drug.

"You can and you will! I am the head of this Church and you will do as I say!"

"You! Head! What about the Bishop?"

The Father glanced contemptuously at the Sister for this outburst but chose to reply to me.

"The Bishop has become a liability, but we couldn't make him just disappear like most of our liabilities so we turned him over to the police along with most of that evidence you provided. It really was a very impressive piece of investigation, and I am sure he will be put away safely for many years. That, " he looked back at the Sister " puts me in charge. "

"I still won't hurt Lola!"

"Susan, get Lola strapped down to the table and then find me a number three cane. Maggie, see what you can do to change her mind. And you, dear Sister Grace, I think you've been a bit too close to the Bishop; I think it might be time for you to take a vacation."

As he said this, somebody else walked into the room. I guessed this was a Sister of Mercy, as she was wearing a hood and a white mask. She walked up to the Sister, produced a hypodermic needle and injected something into the Sisters arm. The Sister just stood there, dumbstruck, a look of panic starting to appear around her face. I realised they just injected her with the same drug they had used on me, perhaps I was going to have some company on my travels.

Maggie meanwhile had started licking my cunt, sliding two fingers inside me, and using the juice that was running down across my arse to lubricate and finger my rosebud. She built me up quickly to the edge of the cliff and then didn't let me go over, pulling me back then pushing, pushing right to the edge, until I could barely think.  Spreadeagled on the matress I could hardly move, but I tried to push my hips up against her tongue, or my arse down on her fingers – anything to cum.

"Normally, it takes 5 to 6 hours to reach the state where you will do anything you're told just in the hope that you'll be allowed to relieve your frustration. With the sort of stimulation Maggie is giving you, if you don't get there in a few minutes you're probably scarred for life. I strongly advise you to start begging."

"Oh God! Please, please, I'm begging you, please push me over, let me come!"

"Just think for a moment about what you will do to be allowed to come."

What was he talking about? There's nothing I wouldn't do to stop this torture and be allowed this orgasm.

"Anything! Oh God, please, I'll do anything! Anything at all, just, just, let me come!"

"Release her and give her that cane. 10 strokes, hard enough to draw blood, then you can have your orgasm."

The cane they'd given me was longer and thinner than the one I had yesterday, but it still had a nice weight to it. Lola was once again spread across the bench, her breasts forced into the surface. No nipple clamps this time, no winch to lift her hands, but her legs bent viciously underneath her so that the muscles and tendons in her thighs was stretched. Any pain would be extreme, she wouldn't be able to flinch or move at all as the strokes fell.

My first strike had my whole weight behind it, I wasn't going to make the mistake of starting soft again. The cane whistled as it went through the air, then met her flesh with a resounding thwack. The noise, the sound of her screaming and the immediate redness where the cane hit was nearly enough to give me an orgasm, but I had another 9 to go.

"One." Susan was counting for me.

 "Two."  Another stroke, inches from the first, not very parallel but as this was the first time I'd ever caned anybody, I was quite happy.

"Three. Four." Two more vivid red lines appeared across her cheeks. Because of the way her legs were pulled forward, I could not reach the back of her thighs so all 10 strokes would have to be delivered to her rump. I knew enough about bondage to know that if I struck twice in the same place it would probably cause scarring, which I didn't want to do but her pert little bottom did not give a lot of space for 10 red welts.

Looking at the four I had already given her, I realised that they were right on the peaks of her cheeks, bridging across her cleft. Moving slightly to my right I brought another stroke down across the middle of her right cheek, nicely central between my first two strokes. "Five."

"Six. Seven." These two either side of number five, giving a nice even covering to her right cheek.

"Eight. Nine. Ten." The three strokes to her left cheek were more awkward, backhand strokes, not quite as powerful but still enough to leave bright red welts across her smooth skin.

Just as the last stroke hit her left cheek, I came. No touching, no stimulation, just the site and sound of the cane hitting her naked flesh was enough to push me over. Of course it was a drugs, wasn't it? I wasn't a sadist, I had shown that last night – or had I stopped then because I knew I might enjoy it?

Father John was looking at me, obviously impressed. I don't think he had expected me to complete it, I'm fairly sure he didn't expect me to have an orgasm as a result of it and he looked at me with a strange look in his eye, almost approvingly. Did he know?

I heard the quiet whimpering noise behind me and looking round, I realised the drug was having quite a profound effect on the Sister. She had been spreadeagled, taking my place on the mattress, and the 'Sister of Mercy' had two fingers embedded inside her and was energetically rubbing her clit with one hand while the other mauled and stretched her nipples. She was clearly already on the edge of an orgasm, but I suspected she may have quite a wait before she was allowed to come.

Looking back at Lola, I saw that Maggie had found a long beam with what looked like leather socks attached to either end, a big loop in the middle. Susan had unfastened Lola's feet from under the table, and they were now busy strapping her feet and ankles into the socks at the ends of the bar. It took me a moment to realise what was going on, I heard the whine of the winch and the hook descended once more over the table.

The two girls lifted Lola's legs and put the loop in the middle of the bar over the hook, then it started heading back towards the ceiling. Lying on her front, and still attached to the far side of the table, Lola's back was bowed and most of her weight was now being taken by her breasts pushing into the rough surface of the table. Susan unfastened her wrists, her body dragged across the table scraping her breasts and her cheek against the rough surface before she managed to pull her hands back and get them under herself. In seconds, she was hanging upside down, just off the edge of the table. Father John took a rope and fastened her wrists behind her back, before wrapping it down to her her elbows pulling her arms painfully behind and forcing her breasts to stand out further.

"Hook!" Father John and the girls had obviously been through this procedure before, as Susan immediately ran over to a cupboard on the far wall and returned moments later with a big, shiny, stainless steel hook with a large ball on one end and a loop for the rope on the other. I had heard of these things, but never seen one before and certainly this one was significantly larger than I'd envisaged them being. Somehow, I suspected Susan had found the largest in the cupboard; that girl had a definite sadistic streak about her.

"Spit!" Susan walked up behind Lola and deposited a large amount of saliva around her anus, putting her fingers up and working it in before spitting again. Meanwhile Father John was lubricating the ball in Lola's other hole; even upside down, there was plenty of juice gathering to be used as a lubricant. Then, when he was ready, he moved round beside Susan and between them, they pulled Lola's arse cheeks apart and inserted the hook. While it was clear that this was not the first intruder Lola had felt in her back passage, she certainly was not enjoying the experience as the massive ball was forced past her sphincter, and with a minimum of lubrication the hook was forced into her bowel. When it was well bedded, Father John took the end of the rope, threaded it through the eye of the hook, and pulled hard.

Now Lola's body was not only pulled back at the sides but it was bowed with her shoulders being pulled directly towards her arse, her breasts now pointing down towards the floor. This girl did seem remarkably flexible, I am sure my back would have snapped before it reached the curvature she had managed, but it was clearly not comfortable for her.

"If you can assist me, this part of her punishment requires a level of finesse which I don't think you have acquired as yet. The front of a ladies body is more delicate than the back, and excessive use of force could quite easily leave permanent scars."

Compared with his curt commands to the girls, the Father was being polite to me, almost as if he was teaching me how to do the job better. I was now sure that he had seen something in me, something he wanted to get out, something which I wasn't sure I wanted out. If it had been me bringing that hook, would I have brought a smaller one or was my sadistic streak as wide as Susan's?

"If you grasp a nipple in either hand and pull her body up so I can get a clear shot at the underside of her breasts, squeeze them nice and tight and maybe give them a bit of a twist – you'll see her squirming because she really likes this sort of thing. I would never do this to most of the girls, but Lola is a pain freak, she seems to be able to take as much pain as you can give her – as much pain as I can give her – and just come back for more. Just look at her there, newly thrashed with a massive hook in her arse and her back bent and twisted, her nipples stretched, and the juice running down the front of the body. She'll probably have an orgasm from what we're about to do to her. Our biggest problem with Lola is making sure that we stay in control of ourselves, we have to know her limits because she doesn't."

I looked at the man with some stirrings of respect. I had thought he was just a sadist, a vicious, sex mad pervert who liked hurting girls, yet he clearly understood what he was doing to Lola and he clearly cared for her.

"It's so easy to forget that these are people, you live in this place all day surrounded by young girls and you feel you can just use, abuse and discard them. That's where the Bishop failed, and I've been working for the past 10 years to move beyond that. This church isn't just the Bishops playground, it may be hope for the survival of mankind, but I'll tell you more about that later after we've finished giving pleasure to Lola."

I had been pulling on Lola's nipples, twisting and pinching and holding her breasts well out from her body all the time Father John had been talking, and as he finished speaking he brought the cane down, striking both her breasts just on the curve of her chest.

"Hold still!"

I froze as four more stripes appeared across her breasts in quick succession, the final one striking across the edge of her areolae, just millimetres from my fingers. The strokes were so fast I didn't even see the cane touching her skin, but the bright red welts left behind were beautifully parallel in the pale, soft, delicate skin. I released her nipples and her body swung as she writhed and moaned in pain/pleasure.

"Now the last five. Down a foot!" The first part said to me in a gentle voice, the second barked as a command to Maggie who had hold of the control for the winch.

Pressing the button, Lola's body dropped a foot till her head was just inches from the floor and her long, dark hair dragged back and forth as she was still swinging. Father John caught her hips to stop her moving, then lined up in front of her and bringing his cane down he created a bright red line just to the left of her labia, in that sensitive, delicate area at the top of her thigh. This brought a scream from Lola, but I think it was the shock as much as the pain. Father John did not immediately strike her again, this time he was taking his time, letting the pain seep through her body, changing to pleasure. When he did strike the second blow in the same place to the right of her labia, she screamed again and a spurt of juice was ejected from her cunt. Father John took a moment to rub the juice up and down her labia, spreading her lips and exposing her clitoris. As he spread her lips, they didn't immediately return; they stayed parted and I could clearly see her cunt and her clit just emerging from its hood. Suddenly he struck again, twice, one red line appearing on each labia. Again Lola jerked, writhed and moaned, and the Fathers fingers gently massaged, helping turn this pain into pleasure. Her clit was now fully engorged, standing proud of its defences, and Father John suddenly leaned in, put out his tongue and licked from front to back. Hanging from the bar, feet widespread, arms pulled savagely back and body bowed with the hook in her arse, Lola could just writhe and moan as he accosted her body. I could tell she was just on the edge of the most incredible orgasm, a few more licks and she would be pushed over, but this was not to be. Father John suddenly turned round and put his arm around my waist, pulling me in and kissing me hard on the lips. His tongue penetrated my mouth and I could taste Lola on his lips and tongue. The kiss only lasted a moment, then he pulled away smiling and said "She tastes gorgeous, doesn't she."

"I know, I spent all night with her, I think my tongue touched every part of her body!"

I was shocked to this behaviour from the Father, it was so different from the control he had shown previously. I wondered what he thought of me, what were his plans for me? Somehow he wasn't treating me as somebody who was about to be packed off in a boat or 'disappeared '.

"Will you do the honours?" He presented me with the cane, and stood back. "You have a choice, cunt or clit." I suddenly realised this was a bit of a test, and I was as interested as Father John to see what I would do. Here was a girl on the edge of the most fantastic orgasm, and I had to decide not only where to strike but how hard to strike. Her clit was exposed, begging for punishment, but if I hit it too hard she could be permanently injured. I could go harder on her cunt, but it was nestled between the shiny steel hook emerging from her arse and the clit standing proud in front. If I went for the clit and didn't hit hard enough, it might not push over the edge, and that could be worse torture than hitting her too hard. Somehow I knew that I wouldn't get another chance, that if I didn't hit hard enough to give her this escape than I would have failed the test. Father John seemed confident that I would pass so in the end, I just let my instincts take over.

Lola's screams seconds later and the flood of juices cascading down her body told me I had passed the test. Like the Father before me, I quickly stepped in and sucked hard, prolonging her orgasm. I truly love this girl, and I could see how easy it would be to abuse her but I still had difficulty getting over her ability to convert paint to pleasure – she really was a wonder.

The door opened and a young girl rushed in, suddenly realising where she was, she sank to her knees, head down.

"F.. Father John, the captain's on the phone and wants to know if you have anything for him today? He says he needs to sail before noon so he doesn't want to be hanging around."

I looked at the girl, she was young – maybe 14, slim, flat-chested, wearing the thin, floating sari style dress that all the novices seem to wear. She was honestly embarrassed about being with so many naked people – I had forgotten how naked I was, without a hair on my head or body. Lola was also naked, legs obscenely spread by the bar which had now been lowered so she was lying on her back on the table while the girls unfastened her ankles. And the nun, Sister Grace, lying naked and spreadeagled on the mattress moaning and writhing, trying to bring herself to orgasm. The girl had obviously never seen anything like this.

Father John was thinking quickly. He had had plans for today, but those plans hadn't included finding somebody like me and he needed time to find out who and what I was. He came to a quick decision and started issuing curt orders.

"Yes, tell him I will be there by 11: 30 with a coffin, then find me some Sisters of Mercy and ask them to organise the hearse." Turning to the girls round the table, he started again. "You three, get Sister Grace ready for transportation, then go get your outdoor clothes on. You're coming with us."

Susan and Maggie dashed over to remove the nuns restraints, helping her to her feet and over to the bathroom I had used earlier. Lola was stretching out on the table, after having her hands and arms viciously tied behind her back for nearly an hour and hanging from her widespread ankles, she needed time to get her muscles working again. I suddenly realised that although the girls had untied her and remove to restraints, she still had the massive steel hook up inside her body. I strolled over and helped her ease it out, nearly giving her another orgasm in the process. Once it was out she turned round and sat up, with a little squeak as she applied pressure to her still sore anus. She had a big smile on her face as she looked up at me.

"Thank you Mistress." The smile faltered as she looked at me. The adrenaline of watching her being punished had been keeping my feelings at bay, but they now returned with a vengeance and she could see from my face that I was again desperate. She looked into my eyes and whispered "I can't go against Father John's orders, but I think if you told me to give you an orgasm he would probably let us get away with it."

"Lola, make me come and then go and help the girls in the bathroom." I looked at Father John over Lola's head and saw him nodding, approvingly.

She slid off the table, nearly collapsing to her knees as her legs refused to support her but still ending up with her face in my crotch, her tongue instantly finding my clit and two fingers up inside me. I was once again coming nearly instantly, damn that drug – or maybe thank it, if only I knew what the next month might bring with it.

As I recovered, I helped Lola to her feet and gave her a slap on her bottom as she trotted off towards the bathroom. I would have to find some lotion later and smooth it into the welts I put across her bottom, before they scabbed over. For now though, I wasn't sure what I was supposed to be doing. Looking around I saw Father John talking to the Sister of Mercy. He seemed to treat her with more respect than the other girls or even the other Sisters, and I realised these were the people who enforced the rules for him so he probably had to keep on their good side.

"You will be in charge while I'm gone, and I know I can rely on you to say nothing of what has happened here today." It appeared this Sister of Mercy was fairly senior in the organisation, perhaps not surprising as she was personally attending to the new leader of the Church. The nun gave a small bow to the Father, well, maybe an exaggerated nod but certainly a sign of respect and then turning to me she repeated the gesture before turning and striding imperiously out of the room. I was so surprised I didn't really react, just looked blankly at the Father. He stood looking at me with a twinkle in his eye, nearly chuckling to himself over my look of confusion. He walked across to me smiling.

"We'll get you some clothes, then go find you some breakfast. I guess you're probably hungry by now. We have to find somewhere private to eat though, because I don't want anybody to know who you are for the little while."

The Sister of Mercy hurried back into the room. At least, I think it was the same one although with the white masks they wore it was nearly impossible to tell them apart. She was carrying some clothes, they appeared to be mainly white with purple edgings, and on top there were two of the masks, one plain white like hers, the other painted as if the face was made up, bright red lips, blue eye-shadow and a thin brown line above the eyes. I realised this mask had more in the way of eyebrows than I did at present!

The woman walked over towards the Father, but he just gestured towards me with his hand and the woman came over and knelt before me, head down, holding the clothes out in front of her. "Mother of Mercy, may I help you dress?"

Mother of Mercy? It's a good job she was still looking down, because the look of shock on my face must have been quite amusing; at least, when I looked at Father John he seemed to be having great difficulty not bursting out laughing. He did give me a little reassuring nod, so I looked down at the woman and said "That would be most acceptable, thank you."

Father John stepped forward, helped the Sister onto her feet and smiled at us both. "We do seem to be doing things in the wrong order here, but we are in a bit of a rush. If we can get you dressed, we can get out of here before your staff turn up and we can go find something to eat."

I wasn't quite sure which of us he was talking to when he said 'your staff ', it seemed as though I had accepted a job which I didn't know I was even applying for; as he said, things weren't going in the normal order. Fortunately the dress was easy to put on, unlike the saris which seem to take a bit of wrapping round, this was just a simple robe, the right front tying near the left hip and then the left front overlapping towards the right hip. It was reversible, plain white on the inside, the outside decorated with purple bindings. The Father explained this was so you could disappear when you wanted and become a simple Sister of Mercy, but for now he wanted people to see the purple, to know there was a new Mother of Mercy in the Church. I was still dubious about whether I wanted this job, or even what the options were. It wasn't too late to ship me off, to make me disappear, what exactly do they want a coffin for anyway?

The robe had a hood which I could pull well forward to hide my bald head, and with the mask I could be sure nobody would recognise me. For the first time in a long time I felt myself relaxing.

 The mask surprised me. When I had first seen it I thought it was ceramic or some sort of hard plastic, but it turned out there are two sorts. The plain white mask was soft plastic, very thin and light and there was a pocket inside the flap of the dress which the spare mask slipped into when not in use. The more ornate mask was metal, very lightweight metal and very thin. This also could be carried around in the pocket in the front of the robe when not in use.

Dressed and masked, I left the room to start my new life.

…

There was a group of women stood outside the door, surrounding a coffin. I'm not sure whether I was more surprised at the sight of the coffin, the reaction of the women when they saw me, or their reaction as they looked over my shoulder at the woman behind me. Each woman, as she saw me, either bowed stiffly or fell to her knees, head bowed. Some took a moment to look at the Sister of Mercy behind me, before falling to their knees and I glanced over my shoulder to see the Sister with her head bowed towards me. She had folded back the top of her robe to reveal the braid on the inside, a strip of dark purple – almost black, running from her left collarbone to her right hip. Looking back at the women arrayed before me, I realised they were all Sisters of Mercy, dressed in the same sort of robe with their white face masks, and all had a similar strip of braid showing in colours ranging from pale yellow through to deep blue. Without exception, those with pale stripes were kneeling while the blue stripers had simply bowed, and I realised the depth of colour was a mark of rank.

Father John was waiting for me, still with a twinkle in his eye and as I looked over at him, he gestured and we walked off together to find food. He led me off down the corridor which I had been forced to crawl down the previous day, and it amused me to note that I caused more reaction in my purple striped robe than I had the previous day crawling, naked down the same corridor. Then, people had glanced at me and looked away as if it was commonplace. Today, people stood aside to let me past and stared after me. Some bowed, some fell to their knees but most just stood and stared. It a good job I was wearing the mask – the one with the make up painted on – because it hid my grin as I strode imperiously through the groups. It did make me wonder though, exactly what I was letting myself in for here.

Eventually we came to a quieter area, with a girl sat behind a desk at the side of the corridor. As soon as she saw us, she was out of her chair and kneeling, head almost touching the floor beside the desk.

"Breakfast for three!" Father John looked at me. "Full English, continental, or just coffee and croissants?"

"Definitely full English, I feel like I could eat a horse. Stand up girl!"

From her position on the floor, the girl had been trying to look at me without moving her head. Hearing my command, she instantly shot to her feet, her head still bowed submissively. She was a very pretty girl, a young lady actually, she looked about 23 with a firm, slim body. She was wearing a sari style dress, in the heavier material and a pretty pale pink shade.  I noticed she didn't stand straight, and I looked more closely.

"Look at me!"

The girl looked up, her long dark hair cascading over the side of her face doing its best to hide the damage, but failing. The left side of her face was scarred and immobile, and as she looked at me tears started to form in her right eye.

"She was a victim of the Bishop. He caught her whispering to another girl during one of his sermons, and he thrashed her around the head. She was lucky to survive."

"When was this?"

"It was 10 years ago, she was only 13 at the time and had just arrived here. Her parents had died in a car accident and she had nobody in the world, so I took her under my wing. That was the day I decided the Bishop must go." There was ice in the Father's voice, the first sign of emotion I had ever heard from him.

"So now the Bishop is gone, and I'm here instead." I looked at the girl, and put as much arrogance into my voice as I could. "Punishment position!"

A look of abject terror flashed across a girl's face, but she hesitated for only the briefest of seconds before dropping again to her knees, turning to face East and stretching her body to the floor. I looked over at Father John. "Do you have a cane I could borrow?"

Father John was stood, tense and frowning, it was the first time I'd seen him shaken in any way and I half expected him to remonstrate with me, but he didn't. Instead he walked over to me and, with an 'if I may', he reached up to my robe and produced a switch from the front braiding. I had assumed this was just stiffening to hold the front of my robe in place, but now I realised where the Sister had produced her cane from yesterday. This one was slightly longer and more flexible, it appeared to be made from steel and was square in section, very much like the blade of a fencing foil – those very lightweight swords used in competition – but more flexible. It had a good weight to it, and I realised that striking somebody hard with this would cut deeply into the skin and leave a serious injury. If it was something like this the Bishop had used on the girl's face, it wasn't surprising how badly injured she was.

"Thank you. It seems to me that you have gone to a great deal of trouble to get me here and to put me in a position where I have great power over these girls, and I feel it is time to see how far you will let me go. It seems a pity this girl should be hurt, just to test the depths of your feelings, but she is the first person around here that you seem to show any attachment to, and she seems to be your weak point. The question is, do I have your authority to punish this girl for no reason whatsoever?"

This was the moment of truth, he could go one of two ways. If I had misunderstood the situation, he could still turn on me and put me in that coffin, wherever it was bound. But I was beginning to realise that he had spent a lot of time and effort to get me in this position, everybody in the place seem to know who I was, and seemed to be expecting me. I was not really surprised when he simply stood back, hands clasped loosely in front of him and said calmly "Go ahead."

I bent over and caught the hem of the girls dress, lifting it over the peak of her bottom just as the Sister had with Lola's dress yesterday. Unlike Lola, this girl had some fairly boring, white knickers covering the cheeks of her ass, so putting a hand either side of the waistband I slid them down till they were around the middle of her thighs. I then reached between her legs and ran my finger the length of her cunt. It was absolutely dry, and the contact made her jump a little. I turned to Father John.

"If this was Lola, she would have juice running down her thighs just from the humiliation and anticipation of the pain." I lent over so my head was close to the girls ear and said, gently, "Thank you for your obedience and your faith. You honour me with your trust and I hope I can live up to your expectations of me. Now, go get my breakfast, I'm starving."

I swatted her gently on her rump before pulling her knickers back up and helping her to her feet while she adjusted her clothing. She still had a tear in her eye, but a little bit of a smile and a nervous frown alternated across her face. I could see she had something to say, I smiled and nodded at her to encourage her.

"Thank you for getting rid of the Bishop. There were some people round here who supported him and enjoyed his lifestyle, but most of the people hated him and we are all really grateful to you for getting rid of him." With that, she turned and fled, dipping her head to the Sister of Mercy who at that moment walked round the corner. I was starting to get used to the women walking round with the white masks, and I recognise this one; at least, I recognised the dark purple stripe on the edge of her robe.

"I must have a word with that girl about being properly dignified in my presence. She seems much too happy all of a sudden." The words were serious, but there was more than a hint of laughter in her voice. I was suddenly surprised to hear Father John laughing behind us.

"I think that young girl's been punished enough for one day, come on you two , we have a lot of talking to do and not much time." For the first time, he sounded cheerful and relaxed.

He led us into his office, a large comfortable room with a desk near the window and a couple of leather sofas facing each other across a coffee table. Father John collapsed in the corner of one of the sofas, the Sister collapsing in the other corner of the same sofa, her hood now thrown back and she removed the face mask so I could see her face for the first time. I suddenly realised how old she was, her hair turning grey and wrinkles starting to form on what must once have been a beautiful face.

"Sit down and take your mask off dear, the food should be here in a couple of minutes and it's very difficult eating with a mask on." The old lady's voice was gentle and friendly. "Let me introduce myself, because I know he won't do it. I'm the Grandmother, but you can call me Mary."

"The Grandmother? It sounds like something from the Mafia!"

She smiled, but it was Father John who replied. "The Church likes to model itself on the family, which is why I call myself Father John, and this is my mother so she becomes the Grandmother. We don't have bishops or popes or anything like that, in fact these days we are not really Christian. Bishop O'Brien was the last hangover from our Roman Catholic origins, and now thanks to you he's gone as well."

"But I failed, and I ended up drugged like this." A shiver ran through my body as I once again felt the effects of the drug. While I was active it wasn't too bad, but as soon as I sat down I could feel the moisture running down my thighs and soaking into the back of my dress.

"Ah yes, I really must apologise to you for that. I had not anticipated you coming in to have it out with him in person, and he had drugged you before I had a chance to stop him. Unfortunately there is no antidote, but we do have a treatment that can make it more bearable." He stood up and walked over to his desk, pushing a button he spoke into a microphone.

"Lola! Father John's office! Now!"

 I grinned to myself, having a fairly good idea what the treatment involved.

"If Lola is the treatment, I think I may wear her out. She hardly got any sleep last night as it was."

"Don't worry, I intend taking some of the strain myself."

His mother looked at him and shook her head, obviously used to her son talking about sex in this way. The memory of watching him fucking the 18-year-old the day before, his 9 inch cock going in and out of her virgin pussy was enough to give me spasms in my cunt. I wanted to get my hand in there, thrust a couple of fingers inside and squeeze my G spot towards my clit, but I also wanted the feel of Lola's tongue as she sucked on my breasts, and most of all I wanted the Father's hard cock plunging into me. I was shivering in anticipation as the door opened but suddenly realised there was something else that I was anticipating as a trolley was wheeled in and the smell of bacon wafted through the room. Even better, it was the girl from outside who had opened the door and was now stood holding it for the trolley, but it was Lola who was pushing the trolley into the room. The girl was staring at me and I realised it was the first time she had seen my face and my shaven head. She suddenly saw that I was watching her and was about to run away when I caught her eye and waved her over. She leaned over the back of the sofa, so I could talk to her without being overheard.

"You know it wasn't really me that had the Bishop arrested. I've made a mess of it and ended up horny and hairless, he would have made me disappear if it wasn't for Father John."

"I know Mistress, but Father John could do nothing openly until we had the evidence. I have worked with him closely for the last 10 years, finding people on the outside who were prepared to speak out, and then finding you. We have been following your career for five years now, and you've actually been working for the Church for the past three, ever since you joined Lewin and Rogers. We couldn't let you know, we knew you were to scrupulously honest to take on the case if you had known."

" But I just blundered in here and gave everything away to the Bishop. I gave him my whole life, I don't even know what it was that I signed."

"You give it all to the Bishop, and the Bishop passed it straight to Father John, who gave it to Lola to bring round to me and the grandmother, and we went through it and gave it to the police. We didn't have much to do, you already had it really well organised. We managed to get the police here while he was still in bed with that 18-year-old that he thought was his daughter. So not only did we have all your testimony, but he was caught red-handed committing incest."

"Was that girl really his daughter?"

"No, she was one of us, a novice who had been with us for about six years. She was 18 though, and due to be initiated this week anyway. Her birthday was actually the same day as Lola's."

I suddenly remembered, today was supposed to be Lola's initiation, the day she stopped being a novice and became an initiate into the Church. The day she lost her virginity. I looked down at her, as she sat on the floor just to the side of my legs, leaning on the sofa and sliding her fingers gently up the inside of my thigh, heading towards my apex. I turned back to the girl and whispered "Can you find me some lotion for Lola's bottom?"

As she turned away, I reached down and caught Lola's hands then pulled her across my lap so she was lying face downwards, as if I was going to spank her. She looked at me with a typical Lola expression, a mixture of surprise and pleasure, anticipation of the pain on her already sore arse. I lifted the back of her skirt up to her waist, and she wriggled a little to settle herself comfortably on my lap. I don't know if she was relieved or disappointed when I took the bottle of lotion off the girl and squirted a generous amount all over her cheeks and into the cleft. I started massaging lotion in, not being at all gentle, kneading her skin and working over the welts from her earlier thrashing. She was wriggling as she tried to escape my fingers, but soon started moaning as I continued to massage her rump with one hand while the other slid down between her legs and started massaging her clit.

"Ah Lola, darling. Today is supposed to be your big day, and we seem to have hijacked it."

By this time Lola was too close to the edge to give a meaningful response, but Father John replied for her.

"There'll be plenty of time to sort Lola out this evening on the ship, but there is something that we must do in the grandmother's presence, before we leave."

Lola was coming, loudly when Father John walked over and pulled me roughly to my feet, unceremoniously depositing Lola on the floor. A whimper escaped her lips as I lost contact with her clit, but Father John led me over and stood me before his desk. He walked round to the other side, opened a drawer and took out a pendant. It looks like a wooden crucifix with a silver serpent coiled up the cross and I recognised it as a symbol of the Church, used by the Bishop as a reference to the serpents in the garden of Eden, bringing sex back into Christianity. Father John however took the cross and twisted it, forcing it out from the grip of the serpent, breaking the wooden cross and leaving the serpent on the silver chain.

"Our Church grew from the Roman Catholic origins of Bishop O'Brien, but now he's gone we can acknowledge that we are no longer Christian, nor do we behold the rules and laws of any recognised religion, but we work towards the betterment of all mankind and we look to future generations to prove our worth." He stepped back around the desk, and faced me.

"Karen Solomon, do you accept this invitation to join our Church as a leader, to inspire our flock and look after them like a shepherd, to protect, love and punish them as required?"

My head was spinning. I hardly knew what I was getting into here, yesterday I was trying to bring down this church and today I was being offered a role in leading it. I was scared of accepting the responsibility, but I trusted this man, and I was horny as hell and knew this was the only way I would get his cock inside me today.

"I do." It hardly seemed an adequate response, but he seemed pleased with it.

"Prepare her!"

The two girls stepped up either side of me, untied my robe and slipped it off my shoulders, leaving me naked. They then turned to Father John and helped him out of his robe, leaving him also naked and erect. He walked up to me and slid the chain over my head, the serpent sitting gracefully between my breasts, but he carried on moving forward, pushing me back against the desk, lifting me so I was sat just on the edge, and still moving forward he plunged full depth into my soaking wet core. My orgasm was almost instant, but he had great self-control, raising my orgasm step-by-step, thrust by thrust, up to the stratosphere then left to fall, free fall, weightless, spinning out of control just to be caught up feet from the ground and swept back up to reach new peaks.

I came to my senses lying naked on one of the sofas. Father John and the Grandmother had disappeared, Lola was once again on the floor beside me, and as I stirred the door opened and the other girl came back into the room carrying a tray.

"Your breakfast had gone cold my lady, so I brought you another one, and some nice hot coffee to wake you up."

"What is your name?"

"My name is Helen ma'am."

"Helen what?"

"Just Helen ma'am. The Church is my family and my mother and father are dead. As the Mother of Mercy, you have full access to my family history and my genetic make up, and should you decide that I should give a Child to the Church then I will do so with the father you choose."

It was quite difficult to talk to Helen, because you could ask her a simple question and she would give such a thorough answer that you were left wondering which of the follow-up questions you should go with. Should I ask her about her family, or about why I should have access to her family history, or why she thought I should choose the father for her child – if I decided she should have one. It struck me that she was 23, and most of the novices seem keen to have a Child of the Church as soon as they turned 18.

"Well Helen, thank you for bringing my breakfast. You can call me Karen, and you can tell me if you've already had any children."

I thought this was a fairly clear instruction which shouldn't create too complicated an answer, but I should have known better.

"I can't do that ma'am, you are the Mother of Mercy, it would be most improper of me to address you by name."

So much for clear instruction. "I will be most honoured if you would treat me like a friend, especially when we are in private. The same goes for you, Lola. I can hardly expect you to call me mistress when you have your head between my thighs!"

Lola looked at me from her position with her head between my thighs, and simply replied "Yes Mistress." If she hadn't been so good with her tongue, I would have felt like punishing her – not that I knew how to punish Lola, pain clearly didn't work.

"If it's all right with you ma'am, could I call you Sister Karen when we are in private?"

"If you must, but tell me, have you had any children?"

"Bishop O'Brien did more than break my face, Sister. He took me to his bed, he raped me and sodomised me every day for a month. He got me pregnant, then beat me till I lost the baby. I have never let a man near me since, not that anyone would want me looking the way I am."

The poor girl was weeping as she made this confession, and I pulled her down into my arms, cuddling and comforting her against my naked breasts. She snuggled in until I could feel her face pressing the silver serpent into my chest, and then I felt a touch of her tongue gently on my skin for a moment.

"Sister Karen…" She was talking quietly, almost dreamily. "Do you think, maybe when you get back, that I will be able, that you might let me," suddenly it came out in a rush "could I take Lola's place between your legs?"

"I will only let you pleasure me if I can pleasure you in return, in fact I make you a promise that when we get the time I will bring you to orgasm and if you then wish to return the pleasure I will take great delight in trapping your head between my legs and forcing your tongue to pleasure my cunt, while I lick Lola between her thighs and she goes down on you, a loving lesbian triangle. Now suck my tits!"

Lola had been listening to what we were saying, and she obviously approved as her head forced its way back between my legs, her tongue licking and tickling all over, a quick suck every now and then on the most delicate places, her actions and the thought of a love triangle and the feel of Helen's mouth sucking and licking my tits, I was in heaven. Who cared about the afterlife when you can get feelings like this on earth.

The peak was not as high as Father John had taken me, but the fall was more gentle and I did not pass out as I landed, just totally relaxed and sated. As ever, Lola's timing was perfect, the door opening seconds after I arrived back on earth and the grandmother's white mask and dark band appeared round the side of it.

"Come on Helen, you're supposed to stop people wandering through this door and catching these two at whatever it is they're doing. It's all right for them, we're the ones that are going to be here facing the music."

Helen jumped up, then with a naughty twinkle in her eye she bent down, kissed me quickly on the lips, and whispered in my ear "Thank you Karen." I smiled back at her as she adjusted her dress and somehow managed to bow to the Grandmother as she slipped out of the room. The Grandmother called after her:

"Find a clean dress for the Mother of Mercy, I think a plain white one for now."

Chasing Lola out of the way, she helped me stand up, my legs still a little shaky and my cunt sore from the pounding it had taken earlier. She walked me over to a door at the side of the room, and then let Lola take me into the bathroom, standing me under the shower head once the water was warm, and soaping my body before rinsing and drying with the big fluffy towels. She quickly washed her own hair and dried it as best she could with the towels, but for once I was glad that I didn't have to worry about wet hair, a quick rub with a towel and my scalp was dry.

Moving back into the office, we found a small pile of clothes on each of the sofas. Mine consisted of a plain white hooded robe and a white face mask, but there is also a white sports bra, a pair of white panties and, a little thoughtful touch from somebody, a pack of heavy duty sanitary pads. Maybe not the most romantic of ideas, at least they might stop my juices soaking through and leaving puddles on any seat I was sitting in.

Lola seemed pleased with the clothes that had been left out for her as well. She had another of the sari style dresses, but this one in a pale yellow, slightly heavier material which she told me signified she was an initiate. "Hopefully, by tonight!" I joked with her. She also had a bra, and watching her I soon realised it was a novel experience for her.

"Novices aren't allowed bras, in fact were not allowed any underwear at all except during our periods. This is the first time I've ever worn a bra." She confided in me. "Somehow, it feels naughty and dishonest wearing a bra while I'm still a virgin."

"Hopefully, by tonight." I repeated. She grinned at me before pulling on a little white thong that slipped up between her ass cheeks. I saw a shudder run through her body, and I felt a shudder run through my body at the sight of her hairless mound barely covered by the material.

"My God, that feels sexy. All we are normally allowed is boring white panties, like those you've got on."

"I think these are probably better for me at the moment, one of those wouldn't soak up much of the juice that I'm creating, but I'm really looking forward to helping you take them off later."

Once dressed, we stepped back out into the corridor. Helen was again seated behind her desk, but as soon as she heard the door open she was out of her chair kneeling before us.

"Sit down and get on with your work girl, stop making such a fuss."

"Yes Mistress." She was back in her chair nearly as fast as she was out of it. "The hearse has already set off, and Father John is waiting for you down in the garage. Have a nice holiday and I'll see you in a week or so!" This was a totally different girl to the one I first met a couple of hours before.

Lola directed me to the garage. As a Sister of Mercy, I would be expected to know my way around the church and it would not be appropriate for me to be following an initiate, so she quietly gave me directions as we walked along. Dressed in plain white, I didn't attract any attention and we soon arrived in the garage.

"Ah! There you are, Sister Karen, Lola. Jump in the car quickly, we don't want that ship going without us and it might take a few minutes to get through customs."

The car turned out to be a stretch limousine, already occupied by Susan, Maggie and two Sisters of Mercy. All four bowed their heads as I entered the car, even dressed in anonymous white it was clear they had been told who I was and their attitude, though deferential, was friendly and welcoming. Lola, Susan and Maggie soon started chattering, I joined in when I could and soon all seven of us were talking, gossiping about people in the church, them explaining to me who these people were, it made me feel really welcome.

After a few minutes, Father John pulled me back into the corner of the seat and started talking quietly to me, not in a way that the others couldn't hear, but more to not disturb their conversations.

"I have a little challenge for you at the docks," he said, "a challenge with getting through customs."

It suddenly struck me that the ship was going abroad, and to get on that ship I would need my passport.

"Don't worry, I have your passport here but they won't let you through customs without seeing your face, and you're not allowed to let anybody in this car see your face. You have to persuade them to take you in to the office so you can take off your mask and your hood and let them see for themselves, and then you're going to have to explain to them why you've been shaved, and you're going to have to tell them about the Church and about Bishop O'Brien, and anything else they might ask about."

"But why?"

"Because over the next few years we will be sending a lot of people and equipment through this small port, and it would be very helpful if the senior people here were members of the Church, it could avoid a lot of awkward questions in future."

"So what? You want me to woo them?"

He nearly laughed again. "What an old-fashioned term. I don't want you to woo them today, just lay the seeds and then you'll be able to go in for the kill next week when we get back. We have more time then anyway."

"So you want me to chat up a couple of dirty old men, with a promise that they can fuck me next week?"

"Oh no, no, not at all! I'm not asking you to do anything I haven't already tried, but these two bitches are not into men and if I sent somebody like Lola in, they'd rip her to shreds. It needs to be somebody strong, somebody who's not afraid of her own body, somebody who likes getting her cunt licked by another woman, in other words it needs to be somebody like you."

How could I resist this silver tongued devil? Given enough time, I could probably come up with half a dozen reasons why I wasn't the right person for the job, but I suddenly realised I was being manipulated again. This was another one of his tests, not an attempt to put me down but an opportunity for me to realise how strong I was. It was a test that he knew I would accept, partly because he backed me into a corner but also because he knew I would always accept the challenge. That's why I was so good at my job (my ex job?).

At that moment the car pulled in through the port gates and stopped outside the office. A woman came bustling out, took our passports off the driver and asked us to step out of the car. Father John started explaining who we were and where we were going, and he pointed out which passport belonged to which girl. When it came to my passport, he explained that for religious reasons I couldn't show my face in public, but if they needed to validate my identity I was quite happy to go with them into their office and expose my face there.

The woman looked at me appraisingly, and I returned her stare. She was quite pretty, in a tomboyish sort of way. Her hair was cut short, but was a rich brown colour. On a more girly girl, I would have said it came out of a bottle but this girl had no sign of make up except for a mid pink lipstick, and I was fairly sure the hair colour was natural. Her breasts appeared a good size, but under the men's collar and tie and standard dark blue pullover it was hard to see what shape she was. She was quite tall, about five foot eight, and I was sure that with a quick brush up she would have been able to bed any man she wanted. At the moment though it was clear it wasn't a man that she was after, the lascivious look in her eye and the way she licked her lips as she stared at me adequately demonstrated where her feelings lay. Feeling like a lamb to the slaughter, I walked ahead of her into the office.

…