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CHAPTER 15
Sister Martha used her cane under Amy’s chin, pulling her up a bit.
She then grabbed a handful of Amy’s hair and shoved her face into the pan. “Get that filthy mouth down there and suck up the rest,” Martha sneered as she mopped the pan with Amy’s head.
“Yes, Ma’am, thank you for your attention,” Amy sobbed, her face dripping with liquid and snot coming out of her nose.
Sister Beatrice sat back, tapping her knee with a light cane. “After you’ve entertained us with your kidney capers, we are sending you to the Machine Room for a 20 minute session while we enjoy Afternoon Tea,” Beatrice smiled. “When you return, we will have some intensified toilet training prepared for you. Right now, I want both of you on all fours in front of me. Sister Martha, would you place the pans for me?”
As Amy and I took our positions Martha placed a pan on each back. With her wrists cuffed to the back of her neck Amy had no choice but to stare at the floor and get her face down low while resting on her elbows. Meanwhile, Beatrice had clicked a remote and I heard the sound of water from two corners of the room. Glancing around quickly, I noticed waterfall fountains with gurgling and trickling noises. I was already fighting off the urge to pee and that noise was having even greater effect. Beatrice grinned at me.
“The water we gave you was treated with our own special diuretic that will make you want to urinate, make you really want to,” Beatrice smiled again. “Of course, we know how difficult it is to do this in front of others, especially your betters, but we know you will not only perform this task willingly, you will beg for the opportunity to shame yourself and amuse us as well.”
“But, you must first obtain permission to speak,” Joanna added.
I could feel Amy squirming next to me, as agitated as I was.
“Please Ma’am, may this bitch speak?” Amy squeaked out.
“What do the sisters think?” Beatrice asked.
The sisters began a casual discussion of whether or not the bitch should be given permission to speak as Amy was flexing her thighs and feet, trying not to lose control of her bladder, knowing that that would be the worst she could imagine.
Finally Beatrice looked down at both of us and pointed to me.
“You wish to say something slut?”
“Please Honored Sisters, may I speak?”
“Go ahead,” Beatrice replied.
“Honored Sisters, may this bitch and I both have permission to empty our bladders for our shame and your amusement?” I stammered out.
“Slut you may, but the nipple bitch must hold position for another five minutes,” Martha interjected. “Don’t you agree, Sisters?”
The Sisters nodded their agreement and Joanna tapped me on the head with her crop.
“Reach around for your pan and place it under you as you squat, but you must wait for my permission to release,” she said.
“Yes, Ma’am, thank you Ma’am,” I answered. Not only did I have to beg to pee in front of them, now I had to squat in obvious discomfort as I waited for permission. Amy was struggling like crazy to control herself. Finally Elaine spoke.
“Nipple bitch, would like to squat for us?” Elaine asked, giggling.
“Yes, Ma’am, please Ma’am, may this bitch squat and pee for your amusement?” Amy begged.
Beatrice sat back, her chin resting on her hand, taking her time. “Oh, very well, I suppose. Slut, place the pan and help the bitch into position.”
“Oh, thank you Ma’am, thank you so much,” Amy said, struggling to rise up and then squat over the pan just in time for her to release her flow, while I was about to die and trying not to let go. Amy was squatting down very close to the pan and her stream was splashing up onto her hairy pussy.
“Get any droplets on the floor and you will lick them up,” Joanna warned. So that was why Amy was down so low. She had obviously seen this ritual performed in front of her when she was still a Full Member of the Sisterhood.
“Slut, you may release,” Beatrice said.
“Yes, Ma’am, thank you Ma’am,” I answered, relaxing my crotch and letting go. I immediately realized I should have been lower as my urine stream hit the pan hard and some of it splashed out. That would have been bad enough, but Joanna had extended her feet toward me, and a few drops splashed onto her boot. Oh boy, that will do it, I thought.
“Your tongue will get to work shortly,” Joanna cooed, obviously enjoying this immensely.
I thought the pissing would never end and the Sisters were pointing at us and laughing hysterically at our discomfort and humiliation as the two of us squatted there. Finally both of us were down to droplets dripping into each pan. I didn’t dare break position but I really wanted to wipe myself. Joanna apparently sensed that and she smiled her evil grin at me.
“Slut, turn and place that filthy crotch crack in the nipple bitch’s face so that she can lick you clean while you clean my boots and the floor.”
“Yes, Ma’am, thank you Ma’am,” I answered, shifting myself around to get my crotch near Amy’s face. Joanna helped by grabbing my hair and jerking my body around until I felt my butt against Amy’s head. I tried to flatten myself to get my pussy up into her face as I got my own face down to the floor and started licking the floor around the base of the pan. I felt Amy’s tongue on me as I slurped at the floor just as Joanna clicked her boot against my piss pan and sent more liquid splashing onto the floor and across my face.
“That’s enough for now,” Beatrice said. She punched the intercom button.
“Toilet, get out here and remove these pans for disposal. She looked at me.
“On your feet, slut and help this one up.
“Yes, Ma’am, thank you Ma’am,” I said, struggling to my knees and then onto my feet as I reached to help Amy stand.
“Slut, wipe her with your hand then let her lick it clean,” Sister Martha said to me.
“Yes, Ma’am, thank you Ma’am,” I said as I complied with her order.
Amy licked my hand that was wet from her own urine as she tried not to sob any more. Her nose still ran and snot dripped on my hand as she licked and sucked.
“Clean everything up, bitch,” Joanna snapped.
“Yes, Ma’am, thank you Ma’am,” Amy answered weakly. Sister Martha rose and came over to Amy with a key to her cuffs. She unlocked them and unclipped the cuffs from Amy’s collar before shoving her down to floor to lick up the remaining piss on the floor.
Beatrice was writing on a card and then she folded it can beckoned me to come to her. She stuck the folded card in my mouth. Take this card and have the bitch follow you out that door and down the hall to the last door on the right. The Sister in charge will know what to do.”
“Yes, Ma’am, thank you Ma’am,” I answered, my voice muffled by the card stuck between my lips. I turned to see Amy had finished her licking up and was standing there, bent over with her head lower than her ass.
“Keep her that way as she walks,” Joanna said, “and have her knock on the door to the Room with her head.”
“Yes, Ma’am, thank you Ma’am,” I replied as I led Amy toward the door by the back of her collar. We exited and went down the hall and I used the collar to bang Amy’s head on the door, which said “MACHINE ROOM” in large red letters on it.
A tall woman with braids wrapped around her head, opened the door.
She wore a long dark skirt and a tight black leotard top that showed off very small boobs. She held a red cane in one hand as she saw the note in my mouth. She reached for the card and as I opened my mouth to release it, she placed the cane in my mouth to hold for her. She read it and looked at me then down at Amy.
“Twenty minutes for this one,” she said, “All right, follow me.” She turned and walked into the room and I followed with the cane in my teeth and pulling Amy along by her collar. The Machine Room had six machines in three rows of two. Only one was being used and it only took a second for me to realize what these machines were about. The one machine had a naked woman bent over a metal bar, secured by a wide leather strap across the small of her back. A clear plastic paddle was mounted on an arm with a wheel device that was slowly turning. Suddenly the wheel hit a certain point and the paddle swung onto the woman’s ass with a fierce smack. The victim made some sort of noise but I figured she was gagged. The paddle sprang back on some sort of mechanism and the wheel thing started to turn again at a different speed this time.
“Welcome to my Machine Room, Amy,” the woman smiled, pulling Amy’s head up so that she could look at the Sister. “Remember me, dear?”
“Yes, Ma’am, thank you Ma’am,” Amy said, about to sob again.
“I am Sister Elizabeth,” the woman said, taking the cane from my mouth as she spoke. “And Amy here once wanted to gain control of the Machine Room for herself, didn’t you, darling?”
Amy didn’t say anything as tears welled up in her eyes.
“Answer me you filthy bitch!” Elizabeth yelled as she slapped Amy.
“Ye—yes, Ma’am, and I will always be ashamed of myself,” Amy answered.
“You will be more than that in about 20 minutes,” Elizabeth replied. “Take her to the left one in the center row,” she said to me.
“Yes, Ma’am, thank you Ma’am,” I answered, leading Amy to the assigned machine. Amy was obviously familiar with the device and she bent herself over the bar. I stood aside as Elizabeth fastened the belt over her back, then took a wad of cottony material and slapped Amy again.
“Sister Beatrice’s card says 20 minutes with a #3 cane, random time setting and intensity setting at 8,” she said. “And you are to hold her elbows down and tight to the lower bar and I will attach her ankles in back. But first open up and take the gag.” Amy opened her mouth and gag was stuffed in. There was a roll of tape on what looked a control box for the machine and Elizabeth tore off a strip and put it over Amy’s mouth.
I noticed the bar with cuffs on it below Amy’s head. I took Amy by the elbows and bent her arms down to it. I could see that doing this, combined with having her ankles spread and strapped down would put maximum tension across Amy’s ass, thus increasing the pain.
Sister Elizabeth finished securing Amy then went to a rack on the wall and selected a fiberglass rod. It tapered slightly, about as thick as my finger and when Elizabeth swished it through the air it made a fiercely wicked sound. She mounted it onto the arm of the machine and went to the front of the room. I was facing away from her but I glanced around and saw her at a keyboard, probably programming the machine. After a few minutes, she sat back and pushed a key on the console.
“Ready to go,” she said, obviously satisfied. Amy grunted something that I couldn’t understand through the gag and I tugged hard on her arms to hold her down. The first stroke came fast as the cane whistled down hard. Amy jerked and I almost lost my grip when she did. The next one was at least another minute in coming, but it was followed by three more just a few seconds apart. The wheel device I had seen turning actually made the windup for the cane stroke, which was then released with a huge swish noise as it came down on the victim’s ass then a spring kind of thing pulled it back into position for the next stroke.
Meanwhile the other woman in the room was thrashing around under the belt as the paddle started a new sequence of strokes, this time in rapid succession. The machine must have released at least 20 paddle strokes in less than a minute when it suddenly slowed down with longer intervals between strokes. The machine stopped and I thought the woman’s session was over when the paddle swung back further than I had seen it, and let go with a hard loud smack. Her ass was bright red with white patches as the woman grunted through her gag. The paddle stopped for at least another minute before the next swing. During the next pause the woman’s hip and thigh muscles started to spasm, shaking her ass and thigh fat like Jell-O.
For Amy, the next five strokes came at about 10 second intervals, just enough for Amy to squirm and make noise through her gag between each one. Then there was a pause, making her anticipate when the next one might come. After about thirty or forty seconds it whistled down on her ass, followed by another right behind it, followed by a full minute before the next one. I saw the wheel winding up more on that one and realized that it was building up more force for the next stroke. It came smashing down and Amy jerked hard against her ankle cuffs, which wasn’t such a good move since the cane followed up with another stroke that caught her across the thigh crease at the base of her butt.
On it went, varying in time and intensity as Sister Elizabeth sat at the console with a broad grin on her face. It was all l could do to hang onto Amy’s arms and keep them bent under the elbow bar during the last of them. A bell went off and the other machine stopped. The woman’s ass was still shaking in spasms and it was covered in deep red welts with some running almost to purple.
Elizabeth got up from her console and walked to the woman’s machine. She unbuckled the strap but held the woman down by the small of her back as she raked her purple nails back and forth across the reddened ass cheeks as the woman squirmed and squealed .
“You will remain in this position for thirty more minutes. I will release your wrists but you are to keep them on the lower bar. Any attempt to rub your worthless ass will be answered with severe punishment, am I clear?” The woman responded with a vigorous nod of the head and a sort of ‘yes, Ma’am’ from her gag.
A few minutes later the bell went off again and Amy’s time seemed to be up. Elizabeth walked around Amy and the machine, trailing a cane across Amy’s welted ass and stroking it up and down through her crack. She unbuckled the restraining belt and signaled for me to release Amy’s arms as she undid the ankle straps.
“Now before I return you to the Sisters, you will spend ten minutes in corner time over there,” she pointed to a strange chair in the far corner. The “chair” seat had two panels sloping into a shallow V pattern with a center ridge covered in what looked like coarse burlap. Elizabeth took Amy by the hair and pulled her to the corner, motioning for me to follow. When we got closer to the chair I saw that the two seat panels were studded with bottle caps. The ridge in the center was indeed covered with burlap and I saw that it could move back and forth. There was no back to the chair, but it had a sturdy T shaped arm on it with clamps on the top bar.
“I call this the Pain Perch,” Elizabeth said proudly. “But before this bitch takes a seat let’s season it.” She walked to a shelf on a sidewall and uncapped a bottle of hot pepper sauce that she drizzled back and forth on the burlap pad.
“Climb aboard, bitch,” she ordered. Amy answered with a muffled something as she stepped around and settled herself. Elizabeth slid the T up a bit and then moved the two clamps to align with Amy’s nipples as she tightened them down.
Amy moaned through her gag and she tried to rise off the ridged pad as her cunt felt the sting of the hot sauce, not to mention how the points of the bottle caps must have felt on her raw butt. Elizabeth had tightened the nipple clamps to almost flatten Amy’s juicy nipples. Elizabeth finished up by placing a 25 pound black iron weight across Amy’s lap to press down as she sat on the Pain Perch with her cunt lips spread over the ridge of the pepper soaked pad and her freshly caned ass cheeks shoved onto the bottle caps. Amy writhed and groaned through her gag as Elizabeth took her by the hair and shoved her nose into the corner of the two walls, then she grabbed Amy’s wrists and placed her arms high up on each wall, pulling more tension into the nipple clamps.
“Ten minutes, bitch,” Elizabeth said as she set a kitchen timer, one of the old types that ticked down the time, just as an additional agony for Amy to endure the constant ticking. Then she turned to me, snapped her fingers and motioned for me to drop to my knees. She took me by the hair and pulled my face to Amy’s hip. “When I blow this whistle, you are to bite down on the bitch’s fat ass flesh, suck hard and come up with a big hickey, and you stay on it until I blow the whistle again,” Elizabeth said with ice in her voice. “And if that hickey isn’t bright and bruised enough I’ll put you up on the Pain Perch for 30 minutes.”
“Yes, Ma’am, thank you Ma’am,” I answered. The whistle blew and I sunk my teeth onto Amy’s fleshy hip, right beside one of the welts left by the Machine.
I bit down hard and kept at it until the whistle blew again. I pulled back to see my teeth marks and a purplish bruise coming up on Amy’s ass.
“Other side now, get over there and get ready,” Elizabeth commanded.
“Yes, Ma’am, thank you Ma’am,” I replied sidling around Amy as I heard her sobbing through the gag. I got up next to her and the whistle blew and this time it seemed like more than two minutes of chewing and sucking on her hip until the whistle blew again. The result this time was even a deeper red and purple.
“Left armpit is next,” Elizabeth said, tapping the whistle on her teeth.
“Yes, Ma’am, thank you Ma’am,” I answered meekly as I rose up on my knees to get my lips onto the fleshy pad at the base of Amy’s armpit. That was followed by the other armpit, then four more big bites and hickeys on the sides of her belly roll as Amy continued to squirm and mewl through her gag. Finally the timer rang and Elizabeth approached us. She turned to face Amy, spread her legs and climbed up onto Amy’s lap, adding her weight to Amy’s discomfort on the Pain Perch. She pulled Amy’s head back and slapped her a few times, then pushed hard on her shoulders, causing the nipple clamps to pull and elongate as Amy’s scream was heard through the gag. Elizabeth giggled and stood up.
“Take the weight from her lap and release her clamps,” she said to me. I By the time I had loosened the clamps Elizabeth reached in and pulled Amy up by the hair. “Turn and bend over to show me that fat ass,” she ordered.
“Yes, Ma’am, thank you Ma’am,” Amy mouthed through her gag. Elizabeth removed the gag, and Amy repeated her gratitude as she bent over and grabbed her knees. The cane marks were darkening and the points of the bottle caps had broken the skin in a few places. But the most amazing sight was Amy’s bright red cunt, the lips swollen and red. Elizabeth held a spray bottle and a sponge and I smelled vinegar as she spritzed the bottle. Amy tensed and groaned.
“It’s a special mix of salted cider vinegar, lemon and lime juice and a shot of crushed jalapeno pepper seeds,” she said as she sponged across Amy’s ass and rubbed deep into her crack and down her bruised thighs. It made my eyes water just to smell it. I could only imagine what it felt like in Amy’s twat. My imagination was soon to be surprised. “Turn and bend over, slut,” I heard.
“Yes, Ma’am, thank you Ma’am,” I answered, taking position beside Amy.
The spray was truly awful, but then I heard Elizabeth snap on a pair of latex gloves and felt her finger poking inside my ass. She pulled out, spritzed the glove and stuck it deeper into my butt hole, which seemed to be on fire. I could feel Amy bucking beside me as Elizabeth obviously stuck a finger up her ass, too, then started jabbing and flexing with each one. I tried not to make a sound but the whines and groans that came out of me sounded like they were from a stranger. Just then Elizabeth withdrew her fingers, took up the spray bottle and spritzed both of us up and down the cunt lips, followed by a vigorous twisting of labia and a hard pinch to the clit. She followed up on Amy with a vicious fist into her crack, then ordered us both to stand and get out.
“Back to the Council room,” Elizabeth said. As she opened the door to let us out I saw three women, their blue shirts buttoned open behind their backs with hands locked in attention posture waiting to enter the Machine Room. “Oh, look, some fresh flesh for the machines,” she grinned, shoving us out the door. I took Amy’s head and pulled it down as she followed me back along the hall where I banged Amy’s head on door once again.
Sister Martha answered the door, taking Amy’s hair from my grip and yanking her into the room. I followed with my eyes down at the floor.
The Toilet Trash attendant woman was rolling out a rack with hot water type enemas bottles hanging from it, two black and two red. Each hose ended in a wicked looking penis-shaped nozzle. Beside the rack was an old fashioned metal washtub, oval in shape with two planks sitting on the rim of the tub. Each plank was a rough slab of lumber with rough bark still on it.
“On your knees, bitches, each end of the tub,” Martha ordered. “Heads down in the tub, asses up and ready.”
“Yes, Ma’am, thank you Ma’am,” we replied in unison, taking our positions as ordered with heads and arms between the planks and down in the tub.
“First we will have a warm soapy cleansing,” Joanna said as the rack was rolled up beside us. “Well, it’s pretty warm, anyway.”
I felt something slippery being smeared on my ass and then the dildo end of the enema tube being stuffed in hard and quick as the flow started into me. Warm it wasn’t. It felt really hot and I could feel the surging and frothing of the soapy substance they were using to “cleanse” me. It just kept coming and rushing into my colon when I felt two of the sisters, I wasn’t sure which ones, lift my torso to allow for more flow from the bag. I felt like I was bloating as it gushed into me and one of the women shoved and twisted the nozzle as the flow finally relaxed and they put me down. I was trying to hold everything in, but I felt the nozzle being pulled out and then shoved back in, toying with my outrageous discomfort. Amy was panting and groaning. I was trying to stay quiet, but it was impossible with that thing shoving in and out of me as the Sisters giggled and hissed at our discomfort.
“How long should we leave them plugged, dear Sisters?” I heard Martha ask. Sister Beatrice chuckled as I realized it was she who was toying with my ass.
“Oh, let’s give them a few more moments to luxuriate in our attentions, don’t you agree?” Beatrice cooed, as though we were in some sort of spa treatments. The Sisters agreed and after what felt like an hour, but was really about another three or four minutes, I felt the nozzle being pulled out as Joanna yelled at both of us.
“Keep those butts held shut while you stand, turn back to back and straddle the tub,” she barked and we complied with the usual ‘Yes, Ma’am, thank you Ma’am,’ response. “Now sit on the seats we gave you,” Joanna laughed as we settled onto the rough log surface of the crude planks, “and of course you will be unable to hold any longer so just release yourselves.”
All the Sisters joined in the laughter and pointing as we both expelled the contents into the tub. I was hoping it was mostly the liquid but I was sure that of all the indignities I had suffered in the past few weeks that this had to be the worst and I could only imagine poor Amy’s embarrassment and intense humiliation at being forced to crap in front of all her former colleagues. But that was only the first part. As the laughing comments of the Sisters subsided along with the flow from our butts, I heard Beatrice announce.
“I guess it’s time for the red bottle, with its hot rinse,” she beamed at me then walked around to Amy and I heard tits being slapped. “Oh yes, that was warm, the next one is hot! Now, back down where you started, nice and low” she ordered.
As I took up my position again I realized that my face was going to be in the outflow at the bottom of the tub. And as I put my head down into the tub could see and smell that it wasn’t all liquid down there just as I felt Joanna’s strong grip in my hair and shoving my face down onto a piece of my own shit and swabbing my head around before stepping back and snapping her fingers for the Toilet Tramp to shove the next nozzles in us.
The hot water felt like it was scalding me all the way to my small intestine and I think I must have nearly screamed but it just came out like a an agonized gasp as the mass of the flow and its heat gushed into me. Oh my God, I thought, what have I gotten myself into?
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