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Sisters Of Servitude (Hector McIntyre)


Sisters Of Servitude by Hector McIntyre

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If you broke the rules at St. Hilda's Convent you could expect to be expelled. If you were really unlucky you might be offered a chance to join the Sisters of Servitude. Sophie, Susan, Grace and Stephanie are that unlucky, and in days their virginity is taken from them as they vie for a place on the training program from hell in the naive belief it will be better for them than facing the wrath and punishment from their own angry fathers.

A story of pain and lots of sex as four legal teens are brought cruelly into the world of womanhood where they train to serve the needs of their new masters - men of God with a lusting for young, ripe bodies.

Product type: EBook    Published by: Fiction4All    Published: 3 / 2018

No. words: 30000

Style: Male Dom - M/F, Sex Slavery / Training

Available Formats: MobiPocket (MOBI)  EPUB  PDF  MS Reader  This book has a format which can be downloaded to Kindle


Excerpt

PROLOGUE

Father Tomas looked out over the congregation. The first Mass of term always seemed special. The Convent of St Hilda catered for young ladies aged fifteen and upwards. As always, the first years (the fifteen-year-olds) sat at the front of the chapel and the final year students, those of eighteen and nineteen years of age, sat at the back, with the other years in between according to their ages.
St Hilda’s Convent in 1926 was a foreboding place for the young girls to attend. It had a well-known reputation for strict discipline and a fine academic record which the Tutors and Convent staff were jealous to preserve. St Hilda’s was a Finishing School for the daughters of the well to do - a Finishing School with a difference.
Father Tomas delivered his usual start of year homily, including the traditional statement of the Convent’s aims and policies and he also included the standard welcome to the twenty teenagers who were new to the Convent.
As he addressed the assembled group of girls, all of whom had been baptised and then confirmed before being allowed in the Convent, his eye drifted back the eight rows of pews to the two rows of oldest girls at the back. Father Tomas lived for those back two rows and each year for the past ten years he had made sure that a select number of girls who occupied those pews spent a memorable final year at the Convent.
Now, he smiled affably at the gathered young ladies, but in a few days time the girls he had already selected for the year would see a very different side to their Spiritual Master, for he would shortly become their Temporal Master too.


CHAPTER 1

September 15, 1926

A memorable day for Sophie Westcott dawned bright and fair. Her eighteenth birthday had arrived and she planned to spend the evening celebrating with some of her classmates.
It happened to be a Friday, the end of her third week at St. Hilda’s. There was a strict no alcohol and no smoking rule in the Convent that applied throughout the establishment, though it was widely known amongst the pupils that Father Tomas smoked regularly and more than one of the staff often smelled strongly of alcohol.
Sophie had passed the word round a few of her fellow year students that she was throwing a small party in the dormitory that evening. Only the three other girls in her dormitory and four other friends were invited and it was an invitation kept strictly secret amongst them. Parties were allowed in the Convent, but the friends knew this was going to be a party with a difference, so they kept very quiet about it.
That evening, after lights out at nine thirty, they gathered to say Happy Birthday to Sophie. Somehow, on one of her permitted journeys into the local town, Sophie had acquired a bottle of gin and another of whiskey and, more remarkably, she had managed to smuggle them back into the Convent and hide them under the rickety floorboards of the dormitory where they had lain untouched from the first week of term until her birthday. The party was in full, though virtually silent, progress and the floorboards were lifted, and the bottles sat open beside Sophie’s bed.
“Cheers,” said Rachel, Sophie’s best friend, “and Happy Birthday,” she whispered, raising her cup as the other girls joined her. As they did so, Sophie thought she heard a noise outside and motioned to her friends to be silent.
“What in the name of all that is Holy is going on here?” The stern, loud voice of the Matron boomed across the dormitory. She stood in the doorway, dressed in her usual uniform, and her impressive body size filled the frame. As she spoke, she flicked the light switch and immediately started to walk towards the girls sitting on Sophie’s bed. As she marched towards them, the girls who were standing near to the route she was taking melted into the background in the hope they would not be noticed.
“Stand still, all of you!” The severe voice boomed at those who moved. “What’s going on?” She asked again, now standing directly in front of Sophie who, like all the other girls, was dressed only in her nightdress.
“It’s my birthday and I’m having a small party,” said Sophie softly, brushing her long, blonde hair away from her face as she spoke. She smiled, the effects of alcohol already affecting her.
“A party, yes that is obvious, but what is in those bottles?”
“Err, drink?” Sophie offered with real fear in her voice now.
“Drink! Hand me your cup, girl,” said Matron, her eyes blazing with anger as she held out her hand to receive the offending receptacle.
When Sophie handed it to her she sniffed at the remnants in the cup and spluttered, “this is alcohol! You know that alcohol is banned, so what is it doing here?”
“I’m eighteen, I’m allowed to drink now. I’ve done nothing illegal and nor have my friends. They are all older than me.”
“You, my girl, may be eighteen but we have a total ban on alcohol at St. Hilda’s. This is a matter for Father Tomas. You will all wait here and pray that he is lenient on you. Pray hard for he has not had a good day, and this is just the kind of misbehaviour he will not tolerate.”
With that, Matron, turned and marched out of the door, banging it closed behind her and turning the key in the lock.”
“Great,” said Stephanie, “we’re for it now. I went up before Father Tomas last term and he caned me good and proper on my bare backside, just for being what he called ‘rude’ to one of the nuns. Christ alone knows what he’ll do for this breach of his precious rules. Hopefully he will have already had his evening tipple and be in a more lenient frame of mind.” It was well-known amongst the students that Father Tomas liked to end his day with a glass of something a fair bit stronger than communion wine!
“Oh God, what will my parents say?” Eleanor was sitting on the bed looking close to tears. She too had been caned by Father Tomas in the previous term for some misdemeanour and her father, upon reading her report at the end of the term, had taken off his belt and made her bend over the dining room table. Then he’d lifted her skirt so only her knickers covered her bottom. They had soon been dropped to her knees and then the belt crossed her bare buttocks ten times with such vigour that she had not been able to sit down for two whole days. Now she was in trouble again and she knew her father would keep to his promise that if she got into trouble again, he would double her punishment.
By the time Matron opened the door again, half an hour later, all the girls had shared their worst fears. Of the eight, four had been punished by Father Tomas in the past year and two received follow up punishments when their parents heard about their `sins` at the end of the term. Of the four that had not been punished, Sophie was the most concerned because the party had been her doing.
“How the hell did Matron know about the party?” Sophie looked around. “Who told her?”
All the girls shook their heads as they looked round the room.
“Well someone must have done?” She added softly.
“Unless it was the shopkeeper where you got the bottles from,” said Eleanor.
“Shhh, someone’s coming,” said Elizabeth, hearing a creak on the floorboards from outside the door.
Instantly all the girls made it look like they were praying fervent repentance of the crime they had committed.
“All stand!” Matron’s voice was stern and one of authority, as she once again stood in the doorway. “Father Tomas will see you all in the chapel immediately. Be under no illusion that he is not best pleased to have to do this at this time of night. Let’s go.”
“But Matron, we need to dress appropriately first,” said Elizabeth in her squeaky voice.
“No, you don’t. You will see Father Tomas in the same clothes you are wearing now.”
With that, the eight girls formed a rough line as they walked down to the chapel, with Matron bringing up the rear. In the chapel, Father Tomas, for once wearing casual clothes and looking more like a headmaster than a priest, stood waiting. He had a chair in the middle of the centre aisle with the seat of the chair pointing towards the altar. On the seat of the chair was a cane, a four-foot long instrument of torture made of the finest rattan.
“Ladies, you are here because you have broken one of the most serious rules of this establishment. You have all been caught drinking alcohol. Now, so I can be sure, whose alcohol was it?”
“Mine, Father,” said Sophie, knowing there was no point in trying to hide the fact.
“Yes, I guessed it would be seeing as today is your birthday. Did you think my staff and I are stupid, that we would not be watching you as you approached your birthday? Silly girl, of course we have been watching you and waiting for you to do what you have done. Now, where did you acquire the alcohol from?”
“A shop in the town. I can’t remember which one, but it was near to the post box.”
“I see. So, you not only broke the rule of not drinking alcohol in the Convent, you also broke the rule of purchasing it and then smuggling it into the Convent, didn’t you?”
“Yes, Father,” Sophie squeaked with fear in her voice.
“Come forward, Sophie,” said the Father. “Which hand do you write with?”
“My right hand,” said Sophie when she was standing in front of the chair and facing the altar.
“In that case, reach out your left hand and place it on the top of the back of the chair.”
“Why, Father?” Sophie bit her lip.
“Because I am going to punish you for what you have done. Ten strokes of the cane on your hand should be a good start point. You will keep your hand open and placed on the back of the chair at all times. You are allowed to cry out but not move nor utter any profanities. Now, do as you are told.”
Sophie slowly raised her arm and placed the back of her hand on the back of the chair. She felt relieved when Tomas left the rattan cane on the chair, until she noticed he already had a shorter, thinner, more whippy cane in his hand. Then her heart sank as he took a practice stroke in the air, the swishing sound almost making her cry as she flinched in reaction to the noise. The tip of the cane patted her upturned palm three times then Sophie shrieked.
“Yeeeeaaaarrrgggghhh!” She howled as the wooden rod slammed right across the open palm of her hand. Instinctively she closed her fist as the excruciating pain shot up her arm, into her brain and made tears form in her eyes.
“Open your hand,” said Father Tomas sternly, “and remember that the angels of the Lord and even your Lord’s mother, Mary, are watching you. If you want to break rules as an adult, then you must accept your punishment as an adult.”
“Yes, Father. Owwwwwwwwww!” The cane whipped into her hand for the second time and again she closed the palm into a fist, but this time as the tears flowed from her eyes she managed to open her hand before Father Tomas could reprimand her again.
“Geeeeeeeee!” She howled again as the third stroke landed across her fingers, adding a fresh bruise mark to her hand and more pain racked her body.
“Arggggggghhhhh! Please stop!” She screamed as soon as the cane lashed down onto her poor hand again, but Father Tomas was not a man of mercy and Sophie continued to howl as he delivered all ten strokes of the vicious cane onto her hand. By the end of her punishment, her hand was red and purple, and Sophie knew she would not be able to form a fist with it until the bruising had eased.
She’d heard other girls who’d received such a caning say it would take some days for her hand to stop stinging and now, as she stood their sobbing her heart out, afraid to move her hand off the back of the chair in case it broke into pieces, she understood what they had said.
“Go and stand over there and put your hands on your head. I haven’t finished with you yet, but the others must take their turn.”
Sophie’s heart almost stopped at the realisation she was to be further punished that night, but she had the sense to walk away from the chair and put her hands on her head, though her left hand was pounding so fiercely from her caning that she thought it would explode. With here hands on her head, the tears that dripped out of her eyes, flowed down her cheeks and onto her clothes, and as they did so Sophie sobbed loudly from the pain.
“Elizabeth Drinkwater,” said Father Tomas severely, “what do you have to say for yourself?”
“Sorry, Father Tomas, it won’t happen again.”
“Quite right, it won’t if you know what’s good for you, and that goes for all of you. Come over here Miss Drinkwater,” said the priest. He waited while Elizabeth took the four strides over to the back of the chair.
“I’m left handed, Father,” she said.
“Did I ask you what hand you wrote with?”
“No Father, you didn’t,” Elizabeth felt as if she was about to wet herself with fear.
“Bend over the chair, Drinkwater. Look at the altar and pray for mercy, for you are going to get ten strokes of the cane on your backside. Matron, come and hold the girl down and please, bare her bottom first.”
“No, no, please don’t do that,” pleaded the attractive brunette, though she knew her pleas would be ignored. Father Tomas was clearly not in a good mood this evening.
Matron was already standing beside Elizabeth. With her strong hands she pulled the girl over the back of the chair and then hoisted her nightdress up over her legs so her bottom was fully exposed. She tucked the hem of the nightdress into the belt that tied the gown round the girl’s waist, so it would not fall back down. The girl wore panties, but these were soon pushed down to her ankles by Matron. Then she pushed down on the girl’s back with one hand to keep her in position and with the other she grabbed the back of the girl’s head and jerked it upwards, so Elizabeth was forced to look at the altar.
“Keep looking at the altar and ask for forgiveness of your sins,” she said severely as she held Elizabeth in place.
Elizabeth noticed the rattan cane on the chair had gone and a moment later she knew where it was as the cane patted her square across her buttocks.


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Read about me in `Sex Auction` and you will discover some of the things I like about life!

 

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