Expiation

Father Michael shooed them out of the room, and then he stood by the bed for a moment, looking at me with a smile, and I smiled back, remembering his order for me to always look at him. He slowly began to undo his cassock, letting it fall open. Then, recalling my instructions, he leaned over me and slowly unzipped my jacket, opening it just as slowly, causing the soft leather to brush against my nipples. I took in a breath at that and waited, looking at him; he nodded, so I gave myself the mental command and stimulated the prongs that were embedded in my nipples, and felt them begin to slowly swell and tingle, sensitive to even the air far more than would be that of an ordinary, true human.

Father Michael sat on the side of the bed for a few moments, enjoying my breasts for a time, playing with them, stroking them gently, and it was difficult at times to keep my eyes on him, and he laughed ruefully when he realized this.

"Do whatever feels natural to you," he finally said, and with that, I was able to relax more and enjoy the sensation of the calluses on his large fingers, stroking the soft but firm skin of my breasts, moving up to my nipples, as he marveled at the rings in my nipples.

"Did this hurt? When they put these in?" he asked, and that surprised me, for no one had ever asked me this. I do not know if anyone has ever asked any Augment this. I assured him that I had anesthesia and no sensation when it had been done, and he nodded, satisfied.

He began to reach for my pants, but I gently reminded him of the Stim, and he nodded and picked up the small blue tablet and the glass of water from the table near the bed, and swallowed the Stim. I knew that in a few minutes, he would feel the vigor and strength of a young man, and he knew it, too, and smiled and playfully pulled a strand of my hair.

The pants were a marvel, thanks to Emilie. The crotch completely unsnapped and came free, leaving me open to view and exploration. I gave myself the mental command to activate the prongs in my clit and crotch, and felt the added nerves and additional blood sacs that true humans do not have, begin to sing in me. I moved a little on the bed, and looked at Father Michael's eyes. They were pink-tinged now, and in another moment or two, they would have the red film of the full Stim. He abruptly stood and pulled off his cassock and clothes, and his penis was erect, waving a little as he moved so briskly around the bed. He tightened one of my restraints a little, saying that he preferred to have me stretched very tightly, my belly sunk in with tension, and I made a mental note of this. I would recall it next time with ease.

The bells for prayers to end rang, and I knew this would mean a double expiation for me, as he had missed Mass, but his need was great, and his eyes were filmed with red now, and his penis engorged and huge. Even lying on the bed, I could see it throbbing, moving slightly like a snake that is arching and moving its way to find its prey.

He fingers the piercings at my clit for a moment, stroked one of the smaller piercings to the side of the clit, then grunted and flung himself onto the bed and between my legs. His body pressed on mine. He is a tall man, and has missed few meals, though he is not overly fat. He is fully a foot taller than me, though, and most likely some two inches beyond that. His penis had the oversized bulging effect of the Stim, and in spite of many tests and much training, I was small and narrow in my passage and always would be, thanks to my Augmentation. I gasped as he entered me and clinched my eyes shut for a moment, for he was very large and very aggressive and very, very anxious to be inside me. He thrust and jerked, pushing inside me, pummeling me really, as I lay helpless on the bed. I could not help him since I was restrained, but he needed no help and enjoyed himself twice more before the Stim began to fade. Some will take another Stim tablet then, but he was sparing. Maybe it was a religious thing, for him. I am not sure, and did not ask.

I was bred to orgasm at the slightest touch, or to hold an orgasm and sustain it far longer than could an ordinary true human, and my training had been extensive. I could ripple and tighten the muscles of my body around his penis and hold it like a cocoon, increasing his pleasure and mine, and the ripples and throbbing of my own orgasm sustained, and sustained, and sustained, and they could hear the cries of pleasure out on the lawn, a fact Mother Superior told me later that evening.

After a time, Father Michael was satisfied and lay on top of me for a few moments, panting, and I could feel his heart beating against my chest. He pulled himself out of my body and kissed my forehead once, gently, and then left the room into his own room, ringing the small bell as he left. The two male novices entered, leaving the door ajar; there were several, male and female, who paused or craned their heads to look into the Curing Room as they passed, having heard the cries and moans of pleasure and orgasm that had come from there moments before, and more than once.

Peter was very impressed with me, but his fellow novice, whose name I learned was August, scowled and unclipped me from my restraints. Peter pulled up his pants for a moment when August left the room briefly, shouting at some novices to stop gawking, and Peter offered to meet with me later.

"Only in the Curing Room," I said firmly, and he looked angry and pinched one of my nipples fiercely before he finished removing the last restraint. I had forgotten to stop the mental commands, so it hurt, and I bit my lip. Peter took great pleasure in my pain. Peter, I would learn, took great pleasure in anyone's pain.

The Sin having been committed, it must now be paid for, so I was now ushered down the hallway between Peter and August, who said not a word to each other or to me, and we made our way to the Mother Superior's office.

To show that the Sin had been committed, of course, they had left the crotch open on my pants, and my jacket unzipped, so that my breasts were bare as was my crotch. All who saw us knew that Father Michael had done the Sin, though in a way acceptable now to the Church. The two males bowed to Mother Superior, then left me standing in her office, and shut the door behind them.

I stood still, my hands by my sides, and she asked me formally if the Sin had been done, and I replied just as formally that it had. She then rang her own small bell, which had a tinny sound, old like her, and two of the older Sisters entered her office, saw me, and likewise frowned at me. Neither had the great anger in their eyes that Mother Superior had, however.

We three followed Mother Superior down a short hallway to the Expiation Room, which was of nearly the same size as the Curing Room, and in some ways had much the same equipment, though for different reasons. Now I would take the place of Father Michael and expiate his Sin, so that he would remain pure, though his body was now satisfied and at ease, and he would not lust after some unsuspecting parishioner or act on it. So went the theory.

Mother Superior lost no time in making it clear that she wanted me to understand from the very first how much she detested these new ways, though they had been around legally for the Church for more than two decades now. She hissed at me and told me to strip, which I did, and the two Sisters pulled me to the center of the Expiation Room, to a padded bench that was heavily curved in the center, like an elongated upside-down U. Having seen and used one of these before at the Center, I asked if I should lie face down or on my back. My ankle and wrist buckles remained on me, would always remain on me when I was in the presence of true humans. Mother Superior snapped that I should lie face down on the bench to begin with, and I did so, calmly and with the dignity of my trade.

As I wrote earlier in my journal, Mother Superior was old and gnarled but had a strength that belied her age, and I learned that strength that night from her hands. Unlike Father Michael, she did not choose to dismiss her two assistants but instead had them to watch, even to assist if need be.

I lay on my stomach lengthwise on the curved, padded bench, and the two Sisters quickly snapped my restraints. I was naked otherwise. Mother Superior did not care for their work and unsnapped the clips, told them to adjust me here and there, then she moved apart the sections of the bench, and I saw that while it was stable and firmly attached to the floor, it had segments that could be moved, then locked into position. To that end, I was lying face down on the bench with my belly hugging the great wide curve, my bottom up in the air, and my legs now spread outwards to each side, with those segments now locked into position. My arms had been stretched forward and were clipped again to the restraints. Mother Superior intoned the formal words, asking again if the Sin had been committed; in a slightly muffled voice, I replied that it had. She then intoned the litany that I had tempted Father Michael, against his will, and in spite of my having been restrained to the bed, she repeated aloud the ritual words that were required, that I had subdued him, tempted him, and forced him to commit this Sin. She then formally asked if I would accept expiation on his part; I said yes because what else was I to say? And besides, it was part of the ritual, the requirement.

Mother Superior was a bitter, angry old woman, I decided, who hated and despised the ways of the Augment, the Sin, and the Curing Room, but who thorough enjoyed the Expiation Room. I spent more time there than I had with Father Michael, and with far less pleasure, though the old she-goat made certain that I had some pleasure, so I would associate it with pain, and with her.

She took great pleasure in showing me a ruler first, shaking it as she leaned down, telling me how wicked I was for tempting poor Father Michael, a man twice my weight or more and far taller than me, who had had me restrained to a bed for his pleasure, but it was, nonetheless, my role and thus my fault, and so I took the expiation for him, and agreed that I had tempted him. She stopped shaking the ruler in my face then, pulled up a chair beside the bench, and then began to smack the ruler against my bare bottom with long, hard, very sharp whacks. After a few moments, she ordered me to mentally command my implants to stimulate, so I realized then that she knew far more about me and my abilities than I had known. I obeyed, though, and made the mental commands, and now as the old witch used the ruler on my bare bottom, spanking it and spanking it, as my body jerked back and forth on the padded bench, my breasts tingled and were aroused, and my clit – my clit was on fire. I was actually getting aroused by the spanking! And she knew it. She spanked my naked bottom until the tears rolled from my eyes, though I did not sob aloud. She finally stopped, not even needing to catch her breath, and ordered the two Sisters to turn me over on the bench. There was to be more?

This time, my back was arched, my head downwards again, my arms stretched above my head and back, to the base of the big, curved bench. The small of my back rested just below the top of the peak of the curve, and I soon learned why. My legs, once again, were pulled outwards, though Mother Superior huffed and got up and rearranged the segments, pulling them further apart this time, then locking them into place and my legs with them. She angrily shook the ruler in my face again, and this time she smacked my breasts and nipples with the ruler until I cried out, both from pleasure and pain, and she was satisfied. I realized that was what she wanted, my pain, my true pain.

I also learned quickly that she knew if I was not sincere, and it was worse for me if I tried to pretend that I cried out from pain, when I had not yet reached my limit. I learned it that very night.

When she tired of smacking my breasts and nipples with her ruler, she pinched the nipples for a time with her old fingers, then sat for a moment, tapping my belly lightly with the flat of her ruler. I trembled slightly, wondering. At last, she called Sister Agnes, one of the two assistants, over to her, and they whispered a moment. I wished that I had Augmented hearing, though perhaps it was best I did not. Sister Agnes walked across the room and I heard a metal door opening, then shutting, though I could not see. It was difficult to breathe easily in this position. Mother Superior laid her hand flat on my belly while she waited for Sister Agnes to return.

"You tempted Father Michael, you evil, wicked child," hissed Mother Superior, leaning down to my face, and then she stood up and took something from Sister Agnes. "Make certain your commands are still on your implants," she snapped at me, and I told her they were. I felt her old hand touch my clit briefly, to test me, I suppose, but I was not expecting it and I hissed, sucking in air. My clit was obeying my command and the implants and prongs, and it was engorged and tender and throbbing. Even the lightest touch by the old woman's hand aroused me. Rather than being glad that I had obeyed her, though, Mother Superior became angry with me, or angrier, and yelled at me that she was "not of that persuasion," and how evil I was, that I was trying to tempt her now. I said nothing; it is not my place to say anything at this time. I simply waited. What else was I to do?

I saw a fast movement of Mother Superior's arm from the corner of my eye, all that I could see from my position, and I heard her grunt, but then – I felt the terrible sting of a lash, between my legs, directly on top of my clit and its prongs and over-stimulated, Augmented probes and engorged, added nerves, and I yelled out with the pain. But she did not stop, and she struck me again and again across the clit, the insides of my legs, my belly a few times. Mostly she concentrated on using the lash to hit my clit and the piercings. She paused for a moment, panting, and ordered me to increase my stimulant, and I did so, for an Augment must obey. I gritted my teeth and the tears rolled from the corners of my eyes, and my hands inadvertently tried to pull against the restraints, for it is natural for the body to want to defend itself. After a time, though, the increased stimulate from my mental command made the embedded prongs and added parts of my body begin to sing, and I felt the thrum and pulse of blood, my clit growing, the lips swelling, and she screamed at me upon seeing that, even though it was what she had ordered me to do. Very contradictory woman, the Mother Superior. It enraged her to see that I was becoming aroused, but she continued whipping my crotch and clit, the insides of my thighs, my belly, and then back to my breasts and nipples until I suddenly arced my back as much as possible against my restraints, holding still for a moment, quivering from the tension of my body, and I shuddered and cried out, orgasming.

This was what the old woman wanted, of course, but it infuriated her all the more, and she snarled at me that I was demon spawn, whore spawn, a Lilith who embodied lust and temptation. She snapped her fingers and the two nuns rushed to her side, and the Mother Superior's head suddenly lowered itself to mine.

"Try this, Lilith," and she stood and jammed a smooth, large, cool metal object inside me, and laughed harshly. I heard the click, and felt the vibrations inside me begin, and I shuddered. Mother Superior stopped on the way to the door, turned, and walked back to me.

"You'll stay this way for an hour, whore. And you will not dare to stop the stimulant to your implants. Keep your implants stimulated at this level. I know you can do it. An hour. I am leaving the door open, so I can hear your screams in my office, and enjoy the sound, whore," and she turned on her heel and left the room, followed by the two agitated nuns. True to her word, she left the door open.

This was a very powerful vibrator inside me, I thought, but then had little time to think of anything else. Obeying my owner, I kept the mental stimulant of my implants at that same level, but this meant that my sensitivity was highly increased. I could not move. I could barely breathe. The restraints were uncomfortable, and my body stung from the lashes. I knew I would be healed by the morrow, perhaps into the following day, but this – the vibrator was very powerful, and then I lost all thought of that, and spasmed and spasmed again, my lips, my body, gripping against the cool metal thrust inside me, my body jerking and my body arching upwards at times as much as was possible, my nipples tingling like fire, my clit burning, all of me on fire, and the vibrator inside of me the most powerful I'd ever known, even from my training at the Center.

And so, for the first time since receiving my implants and prongs, I passed out from sheer pleasure, mixed with pain and the sting of lash marks on my body, my trembling, arching body, gathered around the cold metal that had been jammed inside me by an angry old woman who would be repeating this act of holy expiation again, and again, and again with me in times to come. I shuddered, orgasmed, and screamed out when I orgasmed again, my body gripping the metal and shuddering, and I blindly fought the restraints though I could not pull loose, my body naturally wanting me to reach down and pull out this torment, this pleasure, from between my legs, and I could not. Could not.

I shuddered and screamed and moaned again, and again, and passed out.