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XXVIII
After a sleepless and pleasurable night, the two found themselves hanging from the tree, still face to crotch and on their sides. As they dangled, the whip fell on them, with the lesbian bearing the brunt as she was closer to the overseer until he walked around and focused on Casey. By mid-morning he was bored so the owner took over. With each lash their faces buried deeper into the other’s crotch, heightening the sensation and making them wonder if this was really meant to be their punishment.
Finally when they were brought down and freed form each other, they found themselves staring at the Pastor.
“Trust Casey to mess things up,” he said, grabbing her by the collar and hauling her to her feet, “true piece of filth. You look it and smell it now. It used to be just the mind and soul. Now it’s the body as well.”
He turned to the overseer and the plantation owner and said, “see to it that these two are confined as tightly as possible. Find an appropriate space, or make one. Forget details like holes and such.”
It didn’t take long for them to figure something out. The two were placed in a tiny underground hatch, squatting with their butts off the ground and knees pulled close to their chests with their tits placed between them. Their hands were secured behind their backs and then to each other. Their collars were locked together so that the backs of their heads touched. Their ankles were held in place with short steel bars. A double-bridle was used to gag them together.
There was a hole below them, about a few inches deep and wide. Plastic bowls were places under their pussies to catch their piss.
Once they were secured tightly, the hatch was closed and the two were left in darkness.
The hatch was opened three times a day. They were made to stand up. The bridle was released and a grit ball was placed in their mouths. Then the piss bowl was emptied into their mouths and they were given some water to wash it all down.
For seven days they remained in the hatch, unable to move or do anything in the dark except squirm and relieve themselves. When they were finally pulled out, they couldn’t move, even though their shackles had been removed. Slowly they rose to their knees.
Casey was shackled to two trees, legs spread, arms stretched above her. She remained there for the night, in a daze. A torrential downpour washed away some of the filth from her body, leaving her soaking wet and muddy.
At dawn several lashes rained down on her body. Chunks of dirt and soft mud went flying off her skin as she screamed out in agony.
By mid-morning the rains returned and it poured for three days straight. Casey remained out in the humid air as the rain lashed her body constantly, washing away all the dirt and also giving her enough to drink as she’d pull her head back and lap up the rainwater. Once a day she got a visit and her mouth was stuffed with soggy grits.
When the rain finally stopped, the sun beat down hard on her, drying her in an instant.
XXIX
The Pastor was getting increasingly irritated. The doctor was asking too many questions.
“I can’t declare her insane. She isn’t. And the things you are asking me to do… has the Church voted on this matter?”
“I am the Church!” the Pastor yelled back, slamming his hand on his desk.
The doctor was unfazed, “From your account, you have tried everything and she still won’t repent. She’s still sexually charged.”
“That’s right. I even tasered her down there and that didn’t work.”
“Then I doubt anything will.”
“Can’t you trip her up on some drugs that’ll make her say things she doesn’t mean? Perhaps we can get a repentance out of her, or even better, they’ll mess up her mind enough to get her declared insane.”
“What do you have against this woman?”
“She’s a cancer on our community. She’s inspired too many people. 14% voted to free her at the last Church debate. That’s way too many people who see her as a positive example.”
“Well, in a free society,” began the doctor when the Pastor cut him off, “we’re as free as God allows and there is no room for sodomy in this society!”
“Very well,” said the doctor, getting up, “I’ll do what I can. Where is she?”
“In her cell, sleeping.”
XXX
Casey opened her eyes. The lights were very bright. She squeezed her eyes shut. She was lying on something soft. She slowly opened her eyes but couldn’t turn or lift her head. She felt warm. She tried to lift her arms but they were strapped down. She glanced over and saw IV lines in each arm. She felt like parts of her body were being pinched. There were clamps on her nipples. She saw her feet resting in stirrups, her legs were spread wide. The surface she was lying on ended at her lower back, leaving her butt free.
She could smell a disinfectant soap on her skin. She had no recollection of how she ended up here. Did she fall sick? Did she get hurt? The last thing she remembered was being driven back to the Church and thrown into her old concrete cell. She must’ve been there for a couple of days, she figured.
There was something in her butt, something long and probing. She wanted to push it out. She wanted to call out for someone but she couldn’t. A ball gag kept her mouth sealed.
Just then she heard a humming sound and a tingle ran through her body, followed by jolts that made her groan in pain. A cold sweat broke out all over her body as the tingling sensation increased. Jolts of current hit her randomly: her ear lobes, her fingers, her nipples, her pussy, her toes, her asshole. She passed out. Pee streamed out of her into the receptacle on the ground.
When she came to her throat was parched. She moaned softly. She heard a voice, “this won’t hurt.” The gag was removed and water was dripped into her mouth from a wet cloth. “More, please,” she begged softly. A needle went into her thigh and she fell asleep.
XXXI
“How is she?” the Pastor asked, standing at the doorway.
“Mellow. She took a few steps yesterday. No questions. No resistance. Definitely no repentance since that’s what you care about,” said the doctor.
“How much longer? Has her sexual urge been diminished?”
“Hard to tell. She’s medicated now.”
“I’ll take her back to the cellar.”
“Not yet. I need a few more days with her.”
“Change of plans. I need to test her now.”
“Fine. Don’t ask me for any favors again,” the doctor said. He paged his nurse and told her to prepare Casey for discharge and transport.
Three hours later, Casey found herself back in her concrete cell, exhausted and hungry. A plate of food was left next to her. She fell asleep. She woke up several hours later and ate. She drank water and sat up. She rubbed the parts of her arms and legs that had been restrained with belts. She looked at the needle marks in her arms. She took some water in her hands and splashed it onto her face. She stood up and staggered to the bars and leaned against them, looking out. She saw no one. She stood there for a while and lay back down and closed her eyes. She thought about the recent events, how nice it was to get close to that lesbian ditch-digger. What followed was sheer hell but the few moments of closely, followed by the initial punishment, made it worthwhile. But now what? Part of her wanted to go back to the plantation and be the beast of burden again. It was certainly better than being at the mercy of the Pastor in this cellar. Part of her wanted to repent and get this over with. But then what? Where would she go? She’d have to leave the community any way. Maybe the Pastor will cut her a deal. Let her go without repentance. But at what price?
Just then the Pastor showed up. “I see you’ve eaten,” he said, pulling a chair up to the bars. Casey lay on her side and looked at him.
“Make love to me Pastor. Do everything to me that you tell others not to do. My ass is ready for you. You want to sodomize me. I know it. I’ve felt it from day one,” Casey said.
“Stupid doctor never gets it right,” the Pastor muttered.
“Why? Did you want me lobotomized and put in a padded cell? Did you wish to see me in a diaper and straight-jacket, eating out of a straw, staring into space all day and night? What fun would that be? Fuck me now and maybe I’ll tell you what you want to hear.”
“We picked up two men who were involved in your sodomy ring. They asked about you. They were cruising our streets for hookups. We told them we had a special surprise for them. They seem to have no respect for you. None whatsoever. They refer to you as a whore. Apparently you have quite a reputation in that circle. We cut a deal with them. And you’re part of it.
“You will be transferred to a residence. There you will be greeted by the two men and six of their fellow perverts. Eight men. All eagerly waiting for you. Eight men. And you. There will be plenty to eat and drink. But it will cost you. Eight men. And you,” the Pastor got up and walked away. Casey sat up and drew her knees close to her chest and place her head between them. She took in a deep breath and closed her eyes.
XXXII
Casey’s head was spinning. This was all too much to comprehend. She was in a tiny closet. There was nothing but four walls and a light. She stared at the piece of paper that was taped to the wall.
Price List
Glass of water Two blowjobs
Meal Two anals
Permission to pee Three regular fucks plus two other
Permission to poop Two anals
Permission to rest Four regular fucks plus two other
Permission to wash At discretion of owners
XXXIII
Soaked in cum and piss, Casey begged them to stop. All eight had been at it with her for hours. Her body ached. Her pussy and ass throbbed. Her jaw hurt. When she asked for water she got pissed on. The orgy was out of control. She was triple-stuffed every time. They had so much energy. It started after lunch and now it was close to midnight. They were in the basement, tormenting her on the hard concrete floor. They were making her lick the floor clean. She was on her hands and knees, slurping her piss off the floor while one of the men smacked her butt repeatedly with a belt. Then someone else climbed onto her and began pushing his hard cock into her asshole again. Casey muttered something and simply gave in.
By the time they called it a night Casey was a wreck. She lay curled up on the dirty floor, wet and sticky all over. When morning came, she was still asleep on the floor. She was woken up by a blast of cold water. One of the men had come down and turned the hose on her to wake her up and clean her off.
“Another day, another session,” he said, unzipping his pants. Casey began to backtrack towards the wall.
“Not today, please. I need a break,” she begged, bumping against the wall.
“A break? Not a chance,” said the man, closing in on her, his fully erect cock freed from his pants. Casey tried to dodge him and run off but he grabbed her. “Playing hard to get?” he asked her, grabbing her by the arms and pushing her against the wall. He pulled her up and grabbed her by the legs and entered her. She let out a half-moan, half-scream.
“See you like it rough as well,” said the man, thrusting into her and moving with a purpose, “the early bird catches the worm. The cleanest you’ll be for a while.”
After he finished and walked away, Casey slid down the wall and crouched in the corner, cum dripping from her pussy. She peed right there, washing the cum out in the process.
He returned a half an hour later. Casey was still in the corner, unsure of what was coming. She had only been here for three days but it felt like an eternity. Her stomach was growling. She hadn’t eaten anything proper since the previous morning. But he brought her food.
He set the plate of raw carrots, celery and a peeled banana in front of her. “Eat up. You have a busy day ahead of you.” He also left a bottle of water with her. Casey was gracious. She thanked him and proceeded to eat.
“I’ll unlock the washroom for you. Be sure to brush your teeth,” he said, on his way towards the stairs. Casey finished eating and went into the washroom. It only had a bucket which she was supposed to use as a toilet but only got to use in on the second morning to poop. She crouched over the bucket and went, straining to pass a few hard balls. She walked over to the sink and washed her pussy and ass with the cold water. Then she washed her hands with a sliver of soap and brushed her teeth. Feeling a little cleaner she stepped out of the washroom and saw the eight men, all dressed, in the basement. Two of them were arranging chairs in a circle. But there were nine chairs.
All of them were wearing numbers. The man who seemed to be in charge, her morning visitor, was wearing “1”. He looked at Casey and said, “today we will play a game. Match the cock with the number. You have tasted us all. So today we will test your memory and senses. You will be blindfolded. Your hands will be tied behind your back. You will blow each of us and after you finish swallowing you will call out the number. We won’t say if you are correct or wrong. We will write it down. You will then get a drink of water. After you have gone around the circle, we will announce the results.
“If you make a mistake, the gentleman you have misidentified will determine your punishment. If you make more than three mistakes, a collective punishment will be administered. If you get all of them wrong, then you’ll be truly sorry.”
Number 4 walked up to Casey and blindfolded her while number 7 tied her hands behind her back. Somebody offered her water. She drank it.
“Gentlemen, please take your seats and open your flies. This should be fun,” Number 1 announced.
Loud music started to play, with the goal of drowning out any moans from the men. Casey went down on the first one, licking and sucking furiously as he came within a minute. She licked his limp dick and announced, “Number 3.” She drank a cup of water and moved on to the next guy.
She thought she had counted correctly, but there seemed to be a ninth person in the mix. She was confused and didn’t know what to say. “Number 9?” she asked quizzically as she stood up.
Her bladder full from all the water she was given, her mouth sore from all the sucking, Casey gasped for air as she stood in the center of the circle. Her blindfold was removed. She looked around. There were eight of them and an empty chair. Did she blow someone twice? Did someone show up after she was blindfolded and leave right after she blew him? Casey felt very strange.
“The results,” said Number 1, “are very disappointing. Casey correctly identified two.” The men laughed and snickered. “I guess you don’t know us as well as you should,” Number 4 said, rubbing his crotch. Tears welled up in Casey’s eyes. “Please don’t hurt me,” she begged, falling to her knees.
“We’ll never hurt you,” said Number 7, “quite the contrary. We’re going to have more fun with you.”
“Let’s take the party outside. It stopped raining this morning,” said Number 1, grabbing Casey by the arm and leading her up the stairs and out of the house into the back yard. They walked on the wet grass until they came to a muddy path. The men followed them, all in boots, while Casey walked in ankle-deep mud. Finally they came to a halt. There were two trees with shackles attached. Casey’s arms were freed and then she was shackled to the two trees, legs and arms spread. The men were all making mud pies with their bare hands. One after the other they began hurling them at Casey, splattering her from head to toe with mud. The cold mud hit her with a jolt each time. She closed her eyes and mouth and bore the humiliation. After they had covered her front, they went around to her back and splattered her all over.
“The sun will dry it all out,” said Number 3, as the men trudged away, leaving Casey behind. She let out a deep breath and emptied her bladder onto the ground.
XXXIV
The hot sun did dry all the mud. Number 1 paid her a visit and gave her water. He then released her from the shackles and led her back to the house. They went into the basement. The other men were once again there. No one was sitting. A mud-caked Casey knew what was coming as the chairs were still arranged.
She was blindfolded and her hands were tied once again. “A second chance,” said Number 1, pushing her towards one of the now-seated men.
Casey went through the ordeal once again, identifying her man each time as Number 1 kept track. Again, she counted nine. But when her blindfold was opened, there were eight.
“You must be hallucinating. You’d rather suck nine cocks than eight,” said Number 4, “so how did our whore do this time?”
“Well, what do you know. All wrong,” said Number 1, “you’ll get one more chance. This time, no swallowing. We will cum on you, add some texture to the mud.”
“I have to pee badly,” Casey begged. A bucket was pushed towards her. She crouched over it and relieved herself. She stood up when she finished. The bucket was pushed aside. She was blindfolded once again. The men got up and switched seats. “Go!” came the order.
Each time she got her man close, he pulled out and sprayed her tits and stomach with his cum. By the time she had, once again, sucked off all nine, she was covered in their cum. Two of them had cum in her hair, one even chose her armpits, caking her pit hair with cum.
The blindfold was removed. There were eight men again. “You’re playing with me,” Casey screamed, “who’s hiding? The Pastor? Why doesn’t he just fuck my ass and get it over with? I love sodomy! So does the Pastor!”
“Three correctly identified this time,” came the verdict. Each man got up and peed into the bucket. By the time the last one peed, the bucket was full and heavy.
“OK slut. Carry this bucket up the stairs and out of the house. If you spill a drop, you will lick it off the floor. If you tip the bucket over, well, you know what will happen then,” Number 8 ordered her.
Casey lifted the heavy metal bucket and crouching over, slowly walked to the stairs and began climbing. She set the bucket down with each step, the contents sloshing around but not spilling. She made it to the top of the stairs and out of breath, paused.
“What are you waiting for? Take it outside!” said Number 8, who was right behind her. Casey slowly lifted it again and headed out of the house and down the porch steps. Miraculously, she was yet to spill a drop.
“Whore’s got her strength. We like that,” said Number 2, “go set the bucket in the center of the yard.” Casey did as she was told.
“Now crouch next to it, feet apart, hands grabbing your knees,” said Number 4, walking towards her. Casey went down. “Look straight ahead.” He picked up the bucket and held it over her head.
He then tilted it and it rained piss all over Casey as he emptied the bucket on her while the men laughed and cheered.
“Piss off, you whore!” he said, as the rest began to chant “whore” repeatedly in unison.
XXXV
Casey was happy to have been allowed to wash all the filth off. She was back in her closet, curled up on the floor in the tiny space, trying to sleep. Her stomach growled again. The men hadn’t shown much interest in a few hours. The last she saw them together was when she was soaking in everyone’s piss in the backyard. Now it was evening and she lay in the dark closet, without a clue as to what was on their agenda.
She heard footsteps. The door opened. She sat up. Number 7 put a bowl of peels and bread scraps floating in water on the floor. Casey muttered thanks and began to eat and drink. Even scraps and peels tasted good to her. Better than cum, of course. Before closing the door and leaving her in darkness he refilled the bowl with more water and said, “rest up. Big day tomorrow.” He closed the door. Casey drank the remaining water and curled up on the floor. She closed her eyes. She was asleep in an instant.
She woke up thirsty. The bowl was empty but she also had to pee. Left with no choice, she peed into the bowl and drank the warm liquid. She was surprised as to how she didn’t mind the taste of piss any more. For the most part it was quite clear given how much liquid she consumed each day. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and lay down again.
She finally woke up and there was still silence outside. She could see some sunlight streaming into the basement through the crack under her door. She stood up and stretched. She peed and quenched her thirst again.
Then she heard footsteps. The door opened and she was handed a banana. Water was poured into her bowl and a piece of bread was tossed into it. Number 1 didn’t say anything as he closed the door again. Casey ate and waited. No sign of anyone for a while. Can’t be good, she thought. Had they been given new instructions? She was hoping they’d let her out to go to the washroom. She really didn’t want to poop in the closet. But she had no choice. She dropped a few hard ones onto the floor in the corner.
When Number 1 returned it was just to fill her bowl and toss two pieces of bread into it. Again, he left without saying anything. But this time he turned the light on in the closet.
For six days Casey remained in the closet. The same cycle repeated itself. Three visits with food and water. Rest of the time she pissed into the bowl and drank it. Her poop piled in the corner of the closet. She had experienced worse conditions before. This was far more comfortable than the dry box or the hatch or the hole in the church cellar.
When she was finally allowed out she was sent to the washroom to brush her teeth and freshen up. She cleaned herself as best as she could with water from the sink. When she emerged, the Pastor was waiting for her in the basement. On the floor, next to him, were restraints and shackles. A whip lay on the chair in the corner.
“Pastor. Bet you’re back for more,” said Casey.
“Are you ready to repent?” he asked firmly, “the men have no use for you. You have disgusted them. Even perverts like them can get disgusted. See what you do to people?”
“I love sodomy and so do you,” said Casey.
“I thought you’d say that so I’ve come prepared.” He opened a bag and pulled out a footlong dildo that was two inches wide. Casey winced at the sight of it. He walked up to her and took her by the hand. A brief struggle ensued as Casey fought a futile battle to wiggle free but he was good. He had her shackled, gagged and secured in an instant. With her legs spread, her arms secured behind her back, her body hunched forward and a heavy collar with a weight fixed to her neck, the Pastor had her in prime position. He brought the dildo close to her anus and rubbed the opening. Casey tightened up. He squirted some lubricant onto the dildo and began to push it in. It glided in, stretching her to the limit. He moved it slowly but couldn’t resist jabbing her a few times along the way. Once he was convinced that it wouldn’t go any further, he pulled clips with leads out of the bag. He clipped them to her nipples and her pussy lips, trying to get the hair out of the way. He also plugged a lead into the back of the dildo. Casey was sweating and writhing but she could barely move. The dildo was the biggest she had ever encountered and it was well-seated in her butt now. The clips and leads were scaring her. He pushed a metal probe into her surprisingly wet pussy. That was long and wide as well and it went deep. He plugged a lead into it as well.
“Come on down boys,” he called the men. They all came down and took their seats.
“Sodomy. It’s never to be condoned. One can punish a sodomite with more sodomy. An eye for an eye, you might say. Today our famous sodomite whore stands before us, under my control, with eight witnesses. Once I am finished with her, she will have banished all sexual thoughts from her mind and she will be begging for mercy. She will repent today.”
He flipped a switch. Casey’s body jerked and then a tingling sensation ran through her body. Almost like pins and needles but a little more intense. The two dildos were vibrating but also stinging her.
Then a searing jolt flowed through her breasts. She bit down hard on the gag, close tom passing out. Sweat dripped off her brow onto the floor. Pee flowed out of her onto the floor. Two jolts hit her pussy and one flowed through her ass. She passed out in agony. The Pastor dialed back the juice until she came to. Her whole body was numb with pain. He was sitting in front of her, looking her in the eye, holding the control panel in his hand. The men watched in silence.
“Ready to repent?” he asked Casey. She gave him a piercing stare that he took as a no. “Very well,” he turned two of the dials and Casey cringed. Her pussy felt like it was on fire. She felt hot, flushed, her back hurt. Her nipples were throbbing. She was losing sensation in her arms. She could barely feel the dildo in her ass until it jolted her again.
He removed her gag after she passed out for the third time. He pulled the dildo out of her ass and set it down on the floor. He took his seat once again.
When she came to she could barely speak. She moaned softly, opening and closing her eyes.
“Well, what are you going to say this time?” he asked her. She said nothing. Rather, she couldn’t say anything.
“Almost a year has now passed. You have shown remarkable resilience and stubbornness. You had so many chances to redeem yourself and rejoin society. Yet you chose this path.
“You body is broken. You are nothing more than skin and bones. Your once lustrous head of hair has been replaced with a dry crop. You have hair all over your body. The hair between your legs is proof of your filthy existence. It’s tangled and knotted. You have hair in your armpits as well. Also tangled and knotted.
“You’ve declined many of our offers. You’ve chosen to play in the mud, coexist with your waste. If we set you free will you even be able to take care of yourself? Wear clothes? Bathe daily? Use a toilet? Or will you choose to live in the wild? Like an animal?
“Here’s yet another chance. Please take it this time. Repent now or never.”
Casey took a deep breath and said, “if I repent what guarantee do I have that you won’t hand me back to these men? Do you have clothes waiting for me? I don’t see anything.”
“Do as you’re told.”
Casey remained quiet for a moment and then looked the Pastor in the eye, “I love sodomy and so do you.”
The Pastor quietly got up and gagged her again. He went behind her and dropped his pants. He entered her ass which was now very accommodating. After he finished he asked the men to follow. Nine anals later, Casey was left in the same position, cum dripping out of her ass and onto the floor, while the juice continued to tingle through her body.
XXXVI
Casey had no memory of when it all ended. She lay on the floor of her closet, her ass and pussy sticky and sore. Her nipples very tender. Her arms still hurt from the uncomfortable restraints and her jaw was aching thanks to the gag. She had peed at some point for the ground was wet below her. She couldn’t muster the strength to sit up. She looked towards the stream of light under the door. There was a bowl of water with something floating in it. She reached over and pulled the soggy piece of bread to her mouth and slowly chewed it. She reached over and managed to drink the water. She finally pulled herself up and sat against the wall.
The Pastor finally did to her what she knew he wanted to do all along. It’s just that he couldn’t do it in the church cellar. This place was safe. He was almost certainly cock Number 9 who came down each time for his thrill and split before she finished going around the circle.
Now that he had done to her what she was being persecuted for all along, what next?
The treatment improved over the next several days. Casey still got three visits with food and water. The bowl was bigger. But once a day she was allowed to go to the washroom, brush her teeth, use the bucket and freshen up in general. After a week of this she was given a bucket of water and more soap and asked to bathe from head to toe. Casey was more than happy to. After she was done she stepped out of the washroom and the Pastor was waiting for her.
“A clean, washed body. That must feel good,” he said, sitting on a chair. He had no bag or chains with him this time. “Please, pull up a chair and sit across from me.”
Casey did as she was told. She sat on the chair, feet firmly planted on the ground, a few inches apart. She wasn’t going to cross her legs to hide anything. There was nothing left to hide.
“I hate presenting you with choices for I know what path you will choose. We have concluded that you will never repent so your time will be best served in a setting that is most appropriate for you. There will be a routine but no unpredictability. Should you stray or break the rules, there will be repercussions.
“You are in no position to be reintroduced into God’s society. However, there are those who wish to see you in their midst again but under certain conditions. Unfortunately, we cannot monitor you all the time. So for now we will set you aside and let you rehabilitate yourself. It will take time and we are willing to spend that time.”
Casey listened quietly.
“You don’t do well with company. Solitary confinement still means that you will be visited so that your basic needs are met. That raises the risk of contact and temptation on your part and the part of your caregiver. Your presence in the church cellar or here or on the plantation has the same risks.
“We want you back in our community even if you don’t repent the way we want you to repent. We want you to spend some time thinking about what you have done and what you have gone through, without the fear of anyone coming for you. If we take away the fear and unpredictability, we feel that you will recover. But it will be a hard slog. It will be rough. You might despair. You might choose to quit and return to this setting. But we are willing to give you a chance. One last chance. Are you willing to take it?”
“What choice do I have? You’ve probably decided already,” said Casey, rubbing her knees with her hands.
“You can ask to return to your old cell in the church cellar. It’s empty. Or you can ask to remain here but I will no longer be in charge of matters here. Or if you wish to be a beast of burden I can send you to the plantation permanently. What do you want to do?”
“Why not just set me free and forget about me. You’ve had your pleasure. Aren’t you bored of all this? Find some other woman to torment.”
“It’s not that easy. Since you’re not willing to take a stand, I will. I’ll decide on your behalf. Until tomorrow,” the Pastor got up and left. Casey got up and paced around the basement.
Meanwhile, upstairs, the Pastor saw Numbers 1 and 2. The rest had left. Their task had been deemed complete. “She’s yours to use as you please. I’ll come back in a year to assess. Have fun and be mindful,” he told them, shaking their hands.
XXXVII
Casey waited at the top of the stairs. She knocked on the door. She was exhausted. She had barely slept in two days, spending every moment cleaning the basement, her closet and the washroom. She swept, scrubbed and mopped the floors, mostly on her hands and knees. She cleaned the walls of the closet and the washroom and as much of the walls in the basement as she possibly could reach. Her hands were wrinkled, she was covered in sweat. Her food bowl lay empty at the bottom of the stairs. The bucket from the washroom held whatever she picked off the floor plus her own poop. She needed to empty it outside. She took the last few sips from the water bottle and waited, leaning against the wall.
This was it. She was to remain with these two men, do as they told her to do. She decided not to rock the boat for now and see how things went. Maybe they would come to their senses and get her some clothes, maybe even a sleeping bag, even a daily shower. She figured that all the chores would keep her occupied. She might even enjoy having sex with the two. After all, she used to do them routinely during her JLS days. But now they were distant and aloof.
She was dozing off when the door opened. “All done?” Number 1 asked her. She had to call him Master A now. “Yes, Master A. I have finished cleaning,” she replied, standing up, “I must empty and wash the bucket.”
“Take it outside,” he said, pointing towards the backyard. Casey took the bucket out to the trash can and emptied it. Then she washed the bucket with the garden hose and came inside.
“Looks good,” Master A said, “now go back down and get some rest. I’ll fill your food bowl shortly.”
Casey went down to the washroom and put the bucket down. She washed her hands and face in the sink and stretched her arms. She stepped out and picked up the only chair that was in the basement and put it in the middle of the floor. She sat down and yawned. She wanted to wait for her food before going back into her closet. She was liking the extra leeway she had now. It was better than staying locked up for days in the closet.
Suddenly she got up and went into her closet and picked up the sheet she had been given after the Pastor had left. It contained her new routine and expectations. She read it again, carefully.
First, follow all instructions.
Second, do not misbehave or refuse.
You are now a house slave.
You will not be chained unless necessary.
You will not be clothed for that is not necessary.
You have a right to a minimal level of sustenance.
Each morning, you will receive in a plastic bowl, one banana, one apple, two boiled eggs and four slices of bread. Three days a week the eggs will be replaced with two raw carrots and a boiled potato.
You will receive one gallon of drinking water per day.
You will have unlimited access to the washroom except at night. Each morning you must brush your teeth, wash your hands, face and privates. You must wash the same prior to nighttime confinement. You will be provided a plastic bowl for nighttime relief only.
You will pleasure your Masters on demand.
You will fulfill your daily or weekly quota of tasks and present yourself and your work to your Masters. If they are satisfied you will be granted a shower. If not, you will either have to work overtime or be sent directly to your closet for the night, without a washroom visit. If they are very displeased, you will be punished.
Punishment may come in a variety of forms:
You may be forced to work in shackles for a week or longer.
You may be confined to your closet for 24 to 48 hours.
You may be given an increased workload for up to 7 days, with your rest time reduced from 8 hours to as little as 4 hours.
You may be whipped, suspended from a ceiling beam, or both.
You may lose your washroom privileges for up to 7 days.
You may lose your shower bonus for up to 30 days, even if your work on that given day is deemed satisfactory.
Casey was determined not to screw up.
But she did any way. Big time.
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