Chastity leads me to the nearest bench, they call it the ‘horse’, and helps me up. I sit astride it, my ass in the air. I’m exposed. I don’t fuss. The Maidens who balked on the first day still wear those bruises.
She smears lube all around my asshole. “Relax. Deep breath.”
I inhale as she presses the plug into place. It hurts at first, then my body accepts it, molds around it. I want to push it out, but I can’t. Instead, I keep breathing through my nose and trying to keep my focus, even when the scent of singed flesh permeates the air.
Georgia. She’s the only reason I’m here. But I’ve made zero progress toward finding out what happened to her. I underestimated how closely monitored I’d be, how the Cloister would structure my time so that I couldn’t speak to anyone for any length. The locked doors and microchips aren’t enough; the Prophet wants to control every second of every day. He’d begun to haunt my dreams.
“You can get down.” Chastity takes my hand and helps me to my feet.
I wince as the plug presses against the inside of my cheeks. But I can’t protest. Not with the gag. Maybe obedience will get me what I want. Playing along, allowing the Cloister to seep in just a little bit—perhaps that’s the way for me to break this place wide open. But that would also mean allowing Adam to bend me to his will. An unwelcome tingle shoots through me at the thought.
“Delilah.” Another Spinner motions me over to the X where I’d taken my beating. A Maiden is cuffed to it, though her feet remain on the floor. She looks at me over her shoulder, concern arching her brows.
I give Chastity a glance, but she’s already working with the next Maiden on the horse.
I walk over to the Spinner who called me.
She hands me a flogger, the handle braided leather. “Girls, gather ‘round for this lesson.”
The other Maidens form a semi-circle at my back.
I hold the flogger by the end, as if it’s dirty and vicious all at once. She glowers and wraps my hand around it. “Cooperate, Maiden. Learning to wield these tools—she gestures toward the wall—is just as important as allowing them to be used on you. Who is your Protector? Adam, right?”
I nod, my hands shaking.
“He’s dominant.” She seems a little too impressed. “Very dominant. So these techniques will be of no use to you with him. But—” She pulls me back a step and helps me line up to the Maiden on the X. “There are plenty of men, even some Protectors, who prefer to be on the receiving end. You’ll often find that powerful men have secret desires to be punished.” She steps to the bound Maiden and runs her fingers down her skin. “These areas, here and here, are the most sensitive spots on the back.” She speaks as if she’s going over different cuts of meat on a pig and glances at the Maidens behind me to make sure they’re paying attention. “If he is a true lover of pain, those are the spots to focus on.” Her hands lower to the Maiden’s ass. “Here, you can have a bit broader use of the flogger. Light touches can be playful. Repeated medium or hard touches can verge into pain, or stay there and ramp up.” She steps back. “But the most important thing is for you to read him. Pay attention to his sounds. Listen for when he’s enjoying it. Listen for when he’s perhaps being pushed too far. And make sure that once you get him into the space he wants, you keep him there until it’s over. That is your duty as one of the Prophet’s chosen.”
One of the Prophet’s whores, you mean. Maybe it’s a good thing I’m gagged.
“Hit her.” The Spinner clasps her hands in front of her dark skirt and watches.
I manage a faint slap of the leather against her bottom.
The Spinner frowns. “Again. Harder. And keep going with it. You can do a figure eight with your wrist or simply twirl it over and over.”
I give the same effort, barely brushing her.
“Perhaps Delilah would like for me to give the demonstration.” The Head Spinner’s voice sends chills up my spine. She’s standing right behind me.
The Maiden on the X, Ada, throws a wide-eyed look over her shoulder. I can’t let the Head Spinner do to her what she did to me.
I shake my head again, and step closer, rolling the flogger in my wrist.
“We’ll see.” The Head Spinner’s low voice urges me onward.
I swing harder and keep going, the buttery soft leather turning into strips of pain as they hit flesh. The Maiden cries out. I don’t let up, slapping her bare skin again and again with the fronds of the flogger, her skin turning a light rose.