Chelsea\'s F. N. P. C.

CHELSEA’S  F. N. P. C.

By Charles E. Campbell

CHAPTER 5

ENSLAVED TO THE FOLDS

   The sisters had all left Chelsea’s house, none of them, excepting for Hanna, confident that their secret could or would be able to remain intact for very long. Shaina cried for half an hour in Hanna’s arms when they got home, sobbing and wailing about how either they would now all be blackmailed into being sex slaves for the horrid trio of boys, or their reputations would be ruined and their parents would find out. Hanna couldn’t offer any concrete reasons to her younger sister that would console her. She just said to have faith in their Priestess, that She would never put them or the Cult in harm’s way. Unbeknownst to the sisters, Chelsea had already set Her plan into motion. There was no way the Folds of the Naked Pussy Cult would be jeopardized or threatened, and certainly it couldn’t happen with a trio of losers like Jeremy, Larry and Kenny.

    Fifteen minutes after the girls had departed, Chelsea had Jeremy, the pseudo ring leader on the phone. She told him to check his email right away and call her back. Jeremy laughed aloud at her, saying, “Fuck off, cunt! You bitches are gonna be our whores from now on. I fucking own you, cunt, and all your little slut friends too. No fucking way I’m taking any shit orders from you, bitch! I’m gonna fuck you in the ass, make you lick your shit off my cock  and then I’ll post in on the net!”

   Calmly, Chelsea paused a few seconds and said, “If you want to keep your pimply ass out of jail, you’ll do what I say, asshole!” and she hung up on him.

   Five minutes later, Jeremy called Chelsea back, and said, “So what. You took a buncha pictures of me ‘n my boys playing with a buncha sluts. So fucking what?”

   “You really are a dumb little shit,” Chelsea hissed back. “Shaina and Anastasia are fifteen, asshole, and you’re eighteen. In this state that’s called statutory rape. You’re going to jail! You’ll be somebody’s bitch getting ass fucked three or four times a day for seven years. Your asshole’s gonna get ripped and torn so you’ll be shitting into a bag for the rest of your life. and there’s not a fucking thing you can do about it!”

    Silence on the other end told Chelsea she had struck a nerve. “What the fuck,” he stammered. “She wanted it. You all fucking wanted it! You even set it up, cunt! It was all your fucking idea in the first place! You fucking came to me about it, remember, bitch? No fucking way I’m going to jail!” A lot of bravado, but the fear in his voice was unmistakable nonetheless. Chelsea had him, and She knew it.

   “Well, if you use what meager fucking gray matter you might have, numb nuts, you’ll remember that I did set it up, but I never did it on the phone or in writing. No one even saw the two of us talking together that afternoon. And since you are so ridiculously pathetic and stupid, I will explain to you that the law reads that because Shaina and Anastasia are so young, they aren’t old enough to give consent to an eighteen year old. That’s why it’s called statutory rape, and that’s why it’s different!” She slammed the phone down, and didn’t pick it up when it started ringing ten seconds later. “I’ll let him sweat a bit,” she thought aloud.

    Finally after twenty minutes of the phone ringing and stopping, ringing and stopping, Chelsea picked it up.

   “What do you want,” Jeremy asked softly, still defiant, but obviously beaten.

    “Very simply put, so even an idiot moron like you will get it, you three are now the slaves and property of the F. N. P. C. You will do whatever any one of us wants, whenever and however we want it done. No questions, no hesitations, for a term of one year. Then  we can all return to our former relationship. Which is to say, you bozos will stay the fuck away from Me or any of My girls.

   “Got it, pin dick?”

   “Yes,” a dejected whisper, signally total defeat.

   “Good. Next Friday, you and your asshole will friends be at My house at 7:30. And I want all three of you to shave all the hair off your pathetic bodies from the neck down. Everything. Any hairs we find on you will be yanked out with pliers or burned off with a propane lighter!” She hung up and quickly called Hanna.

   “Everything worked like a charm,” she announced excitedly. “Tell the Cult to assembly Friday night at My house as usual. 5:30. We’re going to have some real fun!”

   Everything didn’t go as planned, however. Only one third of it actually worked out as planned. Although the girls’ secret remained intact, it’s integrity whole, it wasn’t quite what Chelsea had wanted. The weasel Jeremy ran down to the Army recruiter and signed up first thing Monday morning, then he took off for parts unknown until the day he had to report.  Fat Kenny never went back to school. Rumor has it he transferred to some private school in California. Only skinny anemic little Larry had the guts to show up the next Friday. Although Chelsea suspected guts wasn’t the reason he came. She sensed it to be a far deeper reason that brought him to Her doorstep precisely at 7:30.

   Lauren, naked, opened the door for him and instructed him to strip off all his clothes before she allowed him in. He obeyed, and under the porch light, Lauren saw that he had shaved himself completely, legs, armpits, crotch, all shorn, as per Chelsea’s instructions. His thin body seeming frail and shapeless. Larry trailed behind Lauren as she lead him into the living room, where the Cult members were all seated in a circle on the floor, naked, their legs all spread wide, feet touching the feet of the Sister to their left and right. Chelsea alone sat in a chair, a large straight back armed chair from the dining room, which looked like some sort of throne.

   Lauren took Larry by the arm and walked him into the center of the ring before taking her place on the floor next to me. Larry was shaking, his hands in front of himself, covering his shaved groin. He seemed equal parts embarrassment and fear.

    Chelsea allowed him to squirm for a few minutes before speaking. “From this moment on you will be called dogslut. You’re a worthless piece of male shit who thinks himself superior to women because of some thin tube of meat hanging off his belly. Get your hand away from that pathetic little dick and show yourself to the Folds as you really are!”

   Larry’s hands dropped meekly to his sides, his soft cock had shriveled up like a turtle hiding in it’s shell, and his balls had withdrawn deep into his abdomen, the scrotum, tight and hard as a rock. The combination of his lack of pubic hair and his thin body made him appear to be no more than ten years old.

   “Sisters, Behold! This is the weak and useless “stronger” sex, who seeks to dominate and rule us because of that shriveled little wiener they so boldly refer to as their cock, like it’s a source of power and pride for them. This is what they really are!

    “Turn around, dogslut, so all of the Folds can see your little sausage!”

    Larry turned around in place several times, giving each of the sisters a clear view of his shrunken pecker.  It had withdrawn far inside of him  that only the tip of the head was visable. There was, though, a drop of pre-cum forming at the slit.

   “Sister Hanna,” Chelsea called out to me.

   “Yes, my Priestess,” I answered formally.

   “Put the instruments of chastity and servitude on this worthless piece of male shit.”

   “With pleasure, my Priestess,” I replied eagerly, getting up to fetch the plastic bag that contained the devices.

    I pulled the parachute ball stretcher out first and held it so all of the circle could see it, then I knelt in front of Larry and snapped it around the top of his ball sac, enveloping the balls completely.

   Securely in place, I removed eight two ounce lead weights from the bag and attached them to the leather chute, so one full pound of weight was pulling down on the taut sac.

   “Every Friday night, a different Sister will add one pound to dogslut’s balls, each one in turn,  representing one of the Sisters of the fold, until, lastly,  it’s Sister Anastasia’s turn. Because of dogslut’s  especially degrading and humiliating treatment of her, She will add five pounds on that last night, giving the dogslut ten pounds of weight on his “Strong, Manly Balls,” she mocked him.

    Even just the sixteen ounces were causing him tremendous discomfort, but he didn’t have much time to think about it, as the next item in the bag was a six inch long two inch in diameter black butt plug.

   Removing it, I slid it between my lips and sucked on it seductively, gliding my tongue all around it, making it shiny with my saliva, with Larry watching me all the while. I could see his little dick getting excited at the show. Then I passed it off to Blair who sucked it as well. When all of the Sisters, save Chelsea, had added their spit to it, I ordered Larry to bend over with his ass facing Priestess Chelsea, and spread his cheeks. Instantly he complied, almost too eagerly in fact as I think back. I pushed the butt plug in with one strong thrust, bearing it to the base. Larry yelped as the thickest part raped his virgin sphincter.

   The final item was a pair of alligator nipple clamps with two ounce weights. I sucked his nipples to get them hard and engorged with blood and then closed the clamps on the buds. He screamed in pain, wriggling to get away from the fiery heat, but did not attempt to remove them himself.

    “These are the only clothes you will wear when you are in My home, Dogslut,” Chelsea said, standing up. “Every Friday night you will go to the back door, where you will find your clothes. You will strip off your street clothes and adorn yourself as you are now. The sisters will take care of adding the weights to your balls.”

   Larry was silent. Chelsea pounced on him with a vengeance, “Have you no words of praise or thanks, you piece of shit? I’d just as soon cut your balls off and feed them to you one at a time!”

    “Thank you,” he barked, startled by the outburst.

   “That’s your idea of being polite and showing respect to your superiors?” Chelsea stepped into the circle, took a nipple clamp in each hand, and pulled them out from his chest. “Whenever you speak to a superior, and for you, assface, that’s anyone in this room who doesn’t have to live with a shriveled little dick hanging from Her stomach, you will address them as Sister Hanna, or Sister Blair. Is that understood?” She yanked the clamps to emphasize he point.

    Larry flinched and yelled, “Yes, Sister Chelsea.”

   Chelsea pulled even harder as she yelled and then spit in his face, “You are never to invoke My name, dogbreath. You aren’t worthy and you will never BE worthy. Whenever you must answer Me, you will call Me Goddess!”

   “Yes Goddess,” he quickly answered, hoping to avoid another tug on his now bleeding nipples.

   Chelsea’s face was inches from his, her eyes boring into his, until he drop his stare and look down. Confident he was broken, Chelsea returned to Her throne and sat down. “Here are some of your new rules to live by, dogslut.

   “Number one, first and most important: you will obey anything a superior being tells you. And just to make sure you understand what that means, a superior being is anyone in this room who isn’t cursed by a hideous little pencil dick hanging off him like some disgusting parasite.”

   “Yes Goddess,” he answered sharply.

   “No matter what you are told to do, you will do it, immediately, without hesitation, no matter whether it is in the Circle of the Folds or at school of on the street.”

   “Yes, Goddess.”

   “Number two, you may never, for any reason, touch one of the Sisters. You may look at them all you like, but that’s it! In fact, I want you to feast your eyes on Sister Hanna’s exquisite pussy right now!”

   Larry turned in my direction, and looked between my wide spread legs.

   “See how it glistens? See how wet and inviting it is? See the soft caressing folds? You can almost feel the comforting warmth that radiates from within. If you were close enough you would be able to smell it’s sweet beckoning aroma.”

   Larry’s cock was starting to harden as he fixated on my open sex.

   “That is the extent to which you will ever be able to enjoy that pussy, asshole!” Chelsea yelled. A dickhead like you will never be worthy of a divine pussy!”

   “Number three, any of the Sisters may institute a new rule whenever they wish, and it is the same as if I decreed it.

   “Now, play with yourself for us. Get that little dick hard. Show us all your manly power in that big string cock!”

   Larry turned beet red as he slowly placed his right hand around his soft penis and began stroking it. His head was lowered and his eyes were shut tight. “Open your fucking eyes and gaze at Hanna’s pussy. That’s what you getting it hard for, aren’t you?”

   “Yes, Goddess,” he answered yanking his dick faster now, his eyes fixated between my legs.

   In fifteen seconds he was hard. The erection was long, but very thin. He kept on stroking himself as Chelsea said, “That is disgusting, it’s like watching a monkey playing with himself at the zoo. Sister Hanna, make it go away.”

   “Yes Priestess,” I answered. Chelsea handed me a leather belt which I doubled over as IU knelt in front of Larry. “Stop jerking off, dogslut,” I commanded. Instantly he stopped. “Hands behind your head. Feet apart.” He obeyed.

   “I’m going to whip that disgusting little thing of your’s five times. If it gets soft before I finish the five lashes, you will still receive all five. If it is still hard after the five, you’ll get another five, and another five until it gets soft. For every time you flinch from a lash, you will receive two more.

   “Do you understand?”

   “Y....yes, Sister Hanna. Pl.....please, .......please........ make it g....go away,” he added of his own.

   My first stroke found it’s target, slashing across the top of the hardened cock. Larry yelped and jumped back and the top of his cock started to turn pink as it danced about. Instantly, Larry knew he had erred. “I’m sss........sssorry Sssister Hanna,” he stuttered. “Please whip it two more times for flinching.”

   We were all stunned as we all came to realize at that moment, that he was into this!

   “Count on it,” I hissed and then beat him again. Six more from the wide leather belt and he was soft. The tender skin glowed a bright red.

   “I enjoyed that,” Chelsea said. “I want to see it again. Get it up at attention again, dogslut!”

   “Yes, Goddess,” he answered, reaching for the bruised cock. This time it got hard even quicker as he anticipated the lashing he was about to receive.

   He took the full five strokes, all very hard, and still had the remnants of an erection, so I gave him an additional five. It was now totally soft. Swelling, bruised, and red, but soft.

   “Do it again,” Chelsea commanded. Larry gingerly fingered his battered meat, tears in his eyes as the pain must have been intense. Still, he got it up, and I beat it down. We went through this sequence five times before Chelsea tired of the game. Larry was whimpering softly. We all knew he wouldn’t be playing with himself this coming week, that was for sure.

   Larry became a regular fixture at our weekly meetings, enduring massive amounts of physical and verbal abuse. He seemed to thrive in it all, it was like he had found his true calling.  His ball sac was stretching due to the ten pounds of weight he was forced to carry. Chelsea had ordered him to buy a ball stretcher himself and wear it at home three nights a week for at least two hours. To prove he was obedient, he had to take photos of himself with his cell phone and send them to each of us every fifteen minutes during the two hours he wore the device.

   We made him accept dares that were far more dangerous and extreme than we ever dreamed of challenging each other with. Chelsea once placed a lit candle on the floor and made Larry kneel over it with his legs spread wide. He had blisters on his nut sac before she “let” him snuff out the candle with his asshole.

   As a reward for his service, Chelsea “allowed” him to have his nipples pierced by her. The following week  she decided that he needed to have his cock pierced, but didn’t think she should be the one to do it. So we all got in her Lexus, with Larry lying on the floor, our feet resting on him, and drove to a seedy looking tattoo parlor in a nearby city. A woman covered in ink and multiple piercings was alone in the shop when we all walked in. You really couldn’t tell her age. She looked to be in her mid fifties, but might have been younger. She was an emaciated waste of a human being, greasy matted graying hair, pale dry skin,  probably addicted to many different drugs, heavy smoker.  Chelsea told her that her “friend” wanted to have his cock pierced with a Reverse Prince Alpert, but he was too shy to ask himself.

   The crack whore glanced at Larry and asked if he wanted his cock “done.”

   He stood stock straight and send, “Yes, I do.”

   “Lemme see yer dick, then” she said crudely.

   Larry dropped his pants, revealing his lack of underwear and the parachute and ten pounds of weight that pulled his balls seemingly lower and lower all the time.

   The tattooed woman didn’t seem the least bit put off by the accouterments, and just reached over with her spindly hand and grabbed Larry’s cock. She knelt down and then she pulled on it, turned it over and inspected the bottom side as well as the top.

   “What gauge ring were ya lookin’ for?” she asked to no one specific.

   “The thickest one you think will fit,” Chelsea chimed in.

   The crack whore kept examining Larry’s cock, and, as she did it started to harden. This just made her stroke him all the more until it was as rigid and stiff as it could be. “Well, she mused, he ain’t that big, so I’m thinkin’ no more ‘n a six gauge for a PA.

   “Whatever you suggest,” Chelsea agreed.

   “It’ll be forty bucks,” she said, standing up.

   “That’s fine,” Chelsea agreed.

   “Pay the lady, Dogslut,” She ordered.

   Larry reached in his back pocket took out his wallet and extracted the funds.

  Taking the money, the woman said, “There’s a room in the back. Ya kin go back in there ‘n gitcher clothes off. I’ll be back in a coupla minutes to clean ya up and do ya.”

   We all followed Larry into the back room. It really very messy and  wasn’t very clean, but it was large enough for all of us to watch while Larry underwent the piercing. He pulled off his pants again and got in the chair.

   “The lady said to take your clothes off, dogslut,” Chelsea said with a threatening tone. “Strip it all off.”

   “Yes, Goddess,” he answered, pulling his shirt over his head and kicked off his shoes.  Completely naked, he sat in the chair and waited.

   When the woman came back she was glassy eyed and slurring her words a bit. We all knew she was high on something.

   She proceeded to wash Larry’s groin with antiseptic soap and gave it a through rinse twice, before painting betadyne solution all over his cock. By this point Larry’s face was ashen with fear. Next she used a fine marker to place a small dot on the top of the head to mark the entry point for the needle. Satisfied with it’s location, she slid a receiving tube up inside his penis to guide the needle out.

   Removing a new needle from it’s package, she touched the sharp tip to the dot and pushed. Larry cried out, but she was done long before he could really react very much. Using the thick ring, she pushed the needle back out the hole and he was done. She used a special pliers to install the ball in the ring.

    Larry was shaking, but it was over. None of us girls could take our eyes from the ring right through the head of his cock and coming out the pee hole. The ring was a lot thicker than the ones we all wore on our labia.

   “Now I want him marked as ours,” Chelsea decreed. “Can you give him a tattoo?” she asked the woman.

   “Yeah, tha’s easy.” she sort of perked up.”Whadda ya want,” she slurred.

   “I want it to read “PROPERTY OF THE F. N. P. C.”

   “I kin do that. What kinda letters do ya want, and where zit gonna go?”

   “Gothic or Olde English,” Chelsea decided. “ I want the property of part to go right here,” she said, running her fingers over the  hairless area right above his cock. “The initials I want going down his dick vertically, ending at the head by the ring. I want them big and all capitals.”

    “Doin’ his cock ain’t easy, cuza it’s gonna be all shriveled up and small when that needle starts n’ does it’s thing. Ta make it look half way decent, somebody’s gonna hafta stretch’n the skin tight, so’s I kin ink it all right n’ not miss no spots or nuthin’ ”

   “Sister Anastasia will do it. We can clamp a few sets of forceps all along the shaft and we can all pull the skin as tight as you need it.”

   “Okay, if thaz whatcha want. It’s gonna costcha fifty bucks. Up front!”

   Chelsea handed the woman a crisp fresh fifty and said, “Do it!”

    Forty minutes later, our group walked out of the seedy dive and out to Chelsea’s car. Larry was naked this time. On Chelsea’s orders, Lauren had thrown all of his clothes, including his shoes, into a dumpster. How he got home from Chelsea’s was his problem. (The strange thing was, he didn’t seem the least bit concerned. He had gotten into his stature as a slave, and we all knew it, although no one spoke about it).

   The severity of Larry’s weekly Friday night torture sessions was escalating each week. It was almost as if each of the Sisters was trying to outdo the others with the levels of pain or humiliation that we subjected our slave to.

   One night we packed his asshole with ice cubes, over two dozen! Another night Lauren crazy glued sandpaper on his right hand and then made him jerk off. He was bleeding before he came, and believe me, he really did cum quickly that time! Blair wanted to see what would happen if she heated the ring in his cock with a candle. He had trouble peeing without pain for a few days after that one. Shaina caught some yellow jackets and put them in a mayonnaise jar, then she made Larry get himself hard and shove his dick in the jar, sealing it against his stomach. The excited bees stung him many times . I always liked to shove random objects up his pee hole; pens, straws, bb’s. I once stuck a straw up in there and then dumped a few ants down the straw. It was so hilarious watching as he pissed out ants!

   Chelsea devised a devious scheme that almost landed him in jail! She located a local Brownie troop, and pretending to be a young mother with a girl interested in joining, she got the dates, times and address of their meetings. She had me drive over to the house, with Larry naked in the car. After I was in the house for a few minutes, Larry bolted in the front door, and stood in the living room jerking off until he came on the carpet. The mothers were hysterical, trying to snatch up their little girls and not let them see this outrageous affront to their middle class morals. One mother pulled out her cell phone and dialed 911. Larry was no more than two minutes from the house when the sirens could be heard coming up the street. I snuck out during all the commotion. We all enjoyed many a laugh over that incident, even Larry thought it was funny.

    Through all of this, he never once failed to show up on a Friday night, or to disobey any orders or commands he was given. He never complained, not even once. Silently, I think we had all come to respect his stalwart attitude. But, we also knew, that he really wanted, no, he needed to be a slave to us. He was a natural born submissive, who by a chance throw of fate’s dice, had found his true calling.

   It really must have been hell for him each week watching a bevy of young girls always naked, doing our rituals, writhing around on the floor, engaging in group Lesbian sex, and not being allowed to even jerk off while witnessing it all. That’s not to say he didn’t jerk off, it’s just that we controlled when and where he would do it, and how many times he would do it. Sometimes he was made to do it five times in one night. There was one two week period where Chelsea required him to jerk off into a jar three times a day for two weeks. Then he had to bring it to one of our meetings, jerk off a few more times in it, and then he had to drink it as we all watched.

   One Friday night, after we had all satisfied ourselves, Chelsea announced that she had a very special surprise for us. Try as we might, she wouldn’t let on anything about it, even to me! She just told us to clear our calenders for the following Saturday. We would be leaving from her house at 8:30 in the morning, and we’d get home before 11:00. This included Larry the dogslut as well.

   All week long, Chelsea sent teasing little emails to us all, except Larry. Things like, “This is going to be the most amazing day in the history of the F. N. P. C.” Or, “Each one of us will be permanently changed after this weekend.” Another, “Saturday will be a turning point for the Folds.”

   All that we knew was that we were to leave our homes dressed any way we liked, but that we all had to bring a loose fitting white peasant skirt made of the thinnest material possible, with leather thongs for our feet. If we couldn’t find a way to get the required clothes out that day, we could drop it off with Chelsea at school or at her house any time before Saturday morning.

   To say we were all nervous and eager with anticipation would be a gross understatement. I’m sure none of us got much schoolwork done that week. I know I certainly didn’t. My mind was constantly in overdrive trying to guess what was in store for us all. I knew it wasn’t just hype, because I hadn’t seen Chelsea this excited about anything in a quite a long time.