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Sisterhood of Sin -- 2 -- Rule Number One

Our heroine is punished for publishing stories about the sisterhood.
"For a few minutes, we've had seven members on our Red Council. What you do now determines whether we'll still have seven, or even whether you will still be able to honestly count yourself as a sister. Your coat and mask were bought at our expense. If necessary we'll be able to find a black card sister who would wear them, to carry on the legacy of Cate Blanc. If you fail to redeem yourself, you will leave here with neither of them."

The prospect of losing my mask really hurts me. They must know from my stories how important it has become to me. The prospect of losing my alias to a stranger hurts me even more. Only my children and inclusion in the sisterhood matter more to me, and it sounds like only my children will remain with me if I don't patch this up.

Kyra suddenly breaks down and says, "I'm so sorry, Cath, I know I told you about Rule Number One, but I probably didn't emphasize how important it is."

"Silence, Mrs. Cardinal. What's done is done. We can use her help to recover from this fuckup, but she has to pay the price first. We don't want sisters who won't take responsibility for their actions."

Liz turns back to me. "You can choose to leave if you want, without your coat and mask, and of course your card will be cancelled. Or you can accept punishment and work with us. Either choice requires the removal of your coat. If you accept and endure the punishment, the mask can stay on. Well?"

It is obvious that I cannot lie my way out of this. I had not covered my tracks well enough, and obviously, Claire had confirmed her part in convincing me to submit my story. I had sought only to give something to women whose husbands had cheated on them. I'm not even sure what the something was. Solace, hope, encouragement, understanding, maybe all of those.

I realize that I should have checked with my sponsor before putting my artistic self-expression into the public realm, but I thought that I had altered enough to make my stories untraceable to me and to the sisterhood. I had probably been naive. Collectively, we are a subversive organization. Our security requires the corruption of many government officials. We break many tax and other laws. We bribe and blackmail cooperation from many men. The stakes are high and we must avoid seeming like a credible threat to the status quo. We must preserve the illusion that men are in charge where they appear to be in charge. The puppets must get the credit for good results and the blame for bad results so that the puppetmasters remain free to maneuver.

I had always written stories about my life. It's a method I use for cementing important life lessons into my memory. That's how the stories I submitted started. Claire suggested that others my benefit from my experience. I glamorized, embellished, idealized, and even sanitized these stories where necessary, hoping to make them worth reading while expressing what I wanted to express. And now it appears that I've gotten my tits caught in a wringer because of it, and that seems like maybe a literal result of taking off my coat.

But I see no way out of it. And I feel guilty about Claire being punished. As my protégé, she should be able to depend on me. Instead, I sometimes let her lead me. She has a greater knowledge of many subjects than me, a natural result of being a professional researcher and also a more experienced sexual experimenter. But I am her sponsor, and I failed to protect her, again.

I do not want to lose my special relationship to her, or to Kyra, or to Gabe. I'm even fond of Bethany and Margo and I have great respect for Barbie and Liz. It is an honor to be on Liz's council. I have never received a harsh physical punishment before, but Claire survived it, and I feel challenged by that. So it is time to either take my medicine or throw away a part of my life that has given so much purpose and such great rewards to me. Enter Cate Confidence, my persona for dealing with difficult situations with aplomb.

I unbutton my coat, and with as much respect as I can muster, I offer it to the BMO who steps forward for it. I think it is Kyra, because of the way she moves and the narrow shape of her head. Being naked in front of all these clothed women does something strange to me. It is as exciting and erotic as being naked in front of a clothed man. I've been naked in the presence of female doctors and nurses and not experienced this, but this is more humiliating and it disturbs me that I'm aroused by it.

"My apologies, sisters. I accept punishment."

Liz breathes a sigh of relief. "Very well then. Thank you, Mrs. Blanc."

She sits in the spanking chair and pats her right knee with her right hand. I approach from that side and awkwardly assume the position over both of her knees. I can't imagine a more humiliating experience than this. Why am I feeling these stirrings in my pussy?

My knees don't touch the ground as I let my weight rest on Liz's ample lap. I press my hands to the floor as Claire had done.

I sense her arm drawing back and hold my breath for the slap that is about to come. Liz waits and waits until I let that breath out before commencing. Smack! The first lands on my left buttock. Now I know which one the next will land on, and I think that is worse than not knowing. But I feel more warm stirrings in my pussy as I anticipate it. Smack, comes the next, and the next, and so on until the seventh. I pride myself in not crying out during the first round.

I suddenly feel Liz's fingers push rudely into my vagina, sliding easily through my slippery sauce. "You were right, Kyra, she's not entirely hating this." My humiliation incredibly intensifies. Kyra has correctly guessed something I did not know about myself. I'm thankful that Liz lets me up without rubbing it in further.

As I get back up, I say, "Thank you, sister." I'm hoping to earn points for politeness and to remind her that I am not her daughter and she is not my mother.

Next into the chair is Bethany. She begins by rubbing my ass, which somewhat eases the sting from Liz's ministrations. The first hit comes to my right cheek and it is very hard and very painful. I cry out immediately, "Ow!" I am quite surprised that such a small woman can pack such a wallop. She rubs that cheek, which eases the pain quickly. I realize that she is probably also easing the pain in her own hand.

With each smack, she repeats the rubbing. By the time she is finished, I am crying, and even though she hasn't touched my pussy, it is wide awake and I am certain it has wetted her burqa. When I stand, I sense that she wants to continue, that she was enjoying the stimulation to me and to her own hand. I thank her.

Barbie Malibu is next. She is left handed and it feels odd to position myself on the opposite side of the chair. I feel her squirming under me as she delivers my spanks. I think she is trying to stimulate herself. She doesn't hit as hard as Beth or rub my ass or touch me in any other way, but when she is finished, after I thank her, she gives me a loving sisterly hug.

Margo doesn't seem to enjoy what she's doing at all. It seems that her sense of duty is driving her. She hits a little harder than Barbie. It's enough to keep me stimulated, but I'm no longer crying. When we stand I thank her, I can tell that she is failing to hold back tears. There's the empath that I met when we rescued Claire. For someone who seems capable of defending us with brutality, she can melt when we're hurting and she can't stop it. I give her a hug and whisper. "It's okay, my friend."

Claire lets out the devil that I love so much. She spanks the hardest, hard enough to make the tears start again, but she rubs me where she just spanked, and then she flutters her fingers on my pussy lips and slips her middle finger in to stroke it across my clit. Liz has to remind her twice that the object of the exercise is punishment. I almost come, but Claire pulls her finger away after the seventh stroke and then gives me a little pinch. When I thank her, she says, "It'll be okay. I'll make sure of it." And then she winks, as if she knows a secret.

Before I can think about what that means, I'm down over Kyra's lap. "I'm so sorry about this, Cath, but I'm going to really enjoy this now, because I'm sure I'm going to get shit later for failing to prevent it. She smacks hard, rubs and then cups my mound with her fingers. She drags her middle finger through my slit, but avoids directly touching my clit, careful to keep me right on the edge.

She butters my wetness across the cheek that she is just about to hit. I don't know if this makes it hurt more, or less, but it's deliciously naughty and I want to come so badly now that I catch myself subconsciously humping air, trying to accomplish what she's denying me.

It's over too soon. I stand and she hugs me so hard that her nipples feel like pebbles against my chest. I thank her and she kisses me. My cunt is throbbing from being so close to coming. I hate this feeling of pleasure postponed when I was right on the brink. I can only hope that I will be able to get myself off during my final seven whacks, the seven I must now give to myself.

Liz hands me the whip with seven tails. I give it a couple of preliminary downward swings through the air and realize that I can't hope to hit myself as accurately as Claire. I don't want those beads hitting anywhere other than my ass. I get an idea.

"Sisters, I don't want to wimp out, but don't think I can swing this with as much force or accuracy as Mrs. Emerald did. May I request a surrogate?"

Liz looks at me for a moment, as if to deny me the benefits of self-sacrifice, and then says, "Certainly. Bethany?"

"Honestly, Liz, my hand is still sore from the first two times."

I extend the whip handle toward her, and hear Claire gasp. "Careful, please. You can do real damage to her with that. It can scar, especially on the tender parts."

Bethany takes the whip and smacks the beads against her thigh. "Ow. I see what you mean. I'll be careful. Well, Cate, how do you want it?"

I walk to the rug that Claire used, and get down on all fours. My ass is really burning, but I like to masturbate in this position. I won't hesitate to rub my nub in front of them now, not after Claire did it. It will help that I'm facing the floor.

"Hold her wrists girls. We don't want her getting herself off."

What? I haven't earned relief? Liz's cruelty frustrates me, but I must accept it. The first blow lands and I scream. It was carefully landed on my left buttock, and she hadn't swung it very hard, but the beads were terribly effective. I can still feel each of the seven points of pain. She delivers six more, clearly trying not to hit me any harder, but also not rubbing my buns after each.

The pain is like bee stings, seven times seven of them. They release my arms and I curl into the fetal position as I sob until the pain eases. I stand and hug Bethany as I thank her. She's trembling as she pulls me close to her, trembling with a strange brew of sorrow, revulsion, and barely contained lust.

Liz says, "Well, you will remain a sister. Your coat will be returned to you, but you will turn in your white card and receive a blue card, but only because of the value your husband brings to us. And of course, you won't be on my Red Council. That requires a white card minimum to be useful to me."

"What? I took the punishment, just like Claire."

She hesitates, like she wants to accept my plea, but decides against it. "What you did was much worse than what Claire did. What kind of example would I set if you got off as easy as she did?"

"I'm sorry, Liz. I didn't understand. There must be something I can do to fix this and that will be much easier if I'm not demoted."

She looks very concerned. "No, you seem too close to the breaking point to endure the next part. The pain was the easy part. What comes next is... I don't want to be responsible if you snap."

"I've come this far because I want to stay part of this council. I'll do what it takes to gain your trust. Please, let me have it."

Again she looks at me like she will deny me the benefit of self-sacrifice. But again, she accepts. "Very well then. Mrs. Emerald and Mrs. Cardinal, she seems willing to put her soul at risk, this is your show."

My soul? I remember that Kyra told me she fooled around with Wicca during her high school years, but she said that was a phase she outgrew. But Claire? Nothing could have scared me more. Claire has told me stories of the BDSM scenes that she was popular in before her marriage. Those sickened and frightened me. The thought that I might endure some of the awful stuff she experimented with almost makes me beg for mercy.

"Come this way, Mrs. Blanc."

She takes me to a strange bench-like device that I had mistaken for some sort of exercise equipment. She tilts it up and I see that it has an inverted Y shape. She tells me to put my back against it. There are straps at the top and she fastens my wrists in them, up over my head. There are also straps on both sides of the bottom and she fastens my ankles in these.

My front is now exposed to them. I mentally attempt to run through all the possibilities that exposure might allow, but Claire does something behind me, and the table slowly tips backward. When I'm almost horizontal, she turns a crank and the legs of 'Y' bend at my hips and knees until I am spread-legged in such a way that almost anything could be done to my ass and pussy and I would be completely unable to prevent it.

I look up at the chandelier above me and that's when I notice the video camera nestled among the lights and aimed straight at me. I also notice that the electric lights in the room are now on dimly. The volume on the CD player is also noticeably higher, the pounding of the drum more strident. I look over to the chair where I was spanked and see that there is a camera above that. There's another above the rug. They're in the corners of the room, too. They look like high quality cameras.

Making videos is one of Kyra's hobbies, and she can certainly afford good equipment. I thought she might be kidding about making training films, but I'm thinking I may have been too hasty in dismissing that possibility. Ky sees where I'm looking.

"Oh, I see our girl has just realized she's starring in pornography. Tell the truth. You like an audience, don't you."

Dammit! She's read my stories and she's picked up on something I barely mentioned. Why did I have to put so much of myself into them? I've always gotten a certain thrill from being peeped. I've never blatantly exposed myself, but I've been less than careful a few times, and it has excited me.

"I'm waiting for an answer, slut."

"Yes, I guess I do."

"Do you want to come?"

The pain from the flailing pretty much killed my arousal, but the humiliating exposure of the spread-my-legs-and-fuck-me table and the discovery of the video cameras reignited it. And of course, I know that I am expected to play along.

"More than anything in the world right now."

"Are you a cunt? A gaping chasm of carnal desire?"

Oh, god. She must also have learned from my stories that I hate to be called a cunt, except when I'm really aroused.

"Yes!"

"Say it."

Oh fuck! The humiliation reaches a new peak and my arousal returns with a vengeance as I stammer, "I'm a c... I'm a cunt, a gaping chasm of carnal desire."

Some of the sisters snicker at that! I hate being laughed at.

"Well, let's fill that chasm in."

Barely out of sight, Claire gives something to Kyra. I suddenly feel something large pushing into my pussy. It feels as big as Benedict's cock, but it must be a plug because it gets smaller after the first part gets in.

"Are you also an asshole for writing about us?"

"Yes. I'm an asshole for writing about us. I'm sorry."

More snickering. Claire says, "Then you won't mind us plugging that leak."

I feel something cold and wet, pressing against my anus. I try to relax, hoping it isn't too large. It is large and I involuntarily try to force it out, but Claire puts her thumb on my clit and presses really hard as she puts more pressure on my anus. It suddenly lets the large object through, and closes down on the smaller stem behind it.

"Wow, that works like a garage door opener. Push the button and it opens."

Again with the snickering. This is maddening. I didn't mention that weakness in my stories. Kyra knew about it and must have shared it with them all. I promise myself that I'll make her pay for that. In the meantime, I try to laugh to show that I'm playing along.

Claire keeps her thumb on my clit and starts rotating it. This quickly starts feeling really good. Liz steps up to one side of me and starts playing with my nipple. Kyra does the same on the other side. Then both of the plugs begin to vibrate.

"If you let either of those out, I'll replace them with bigger ones."

I believe her, but they don't seem loose. I look around and notice that all of the women once again have one hand tucked inside their dresses. I'm the only one not playing with herself, but only because I can't. My arms are stretched so far above my head that they are falling asleep.

Liz says, "It's time to let you in on a little secret, Cate. Rule Number One doesn't apply when you talk about the sisterhood anonymously. Rule Number One is for your own safety. If you go blabbing to somebody at work that you're part of a secret society that does the things we do, then there's a risk that our enemies will discover your real name. But you were real good about hiding your true identity in your stories. You protected yourself and us really well."

"But... didn't you want to keep everyone from knowing we exist?"

"Not necessarily. Lots of outsiders already know we exist. They seem more interested in keeping the people we need from learning about us, than we are of flying under the radar. You might have done us a favor. You cast us in a more positive light than our enemies do. We've been exposed many times in the past. Many men have caught on and tried to convince their governments to stop us. But governments can't find us because there's only one comprised of unmarried men without children, the Vatican. They're certainly not going to tell all the Catholics about us. They don't like us, but at least we're keeping a lot of Catholics married and raising little Catholics for them."

"Then why are you torturing me like this?"

"You said you needed some new material to continue writing. We really found your stories quite, um... worth reading. I especially like the lesbian angle. We want you to continue writing. We think it could be good for recruitment. I can't wait to see what you write about us now."

My brain is so addled by lust that I'm a bit slow to grasp what she's saying. Who turned up these lights? Who turned up the volume on those fuckin' drums? They're making me feel so primal, pounding lustfully into me like the strong thrusts of Gabe, or the tongue of Kyra on my clit. But I finally realize that I've been had, that this was all an act, except for the very real pain, the humiliation, and the sexual frustration that still has me trying to get myself off by squeezing down on the vibrating toys stuffed in my cunt and ass.

"So all this witchcraft stuff... and Claire's punishment..."

"All just part of the show."

"Oh! You unholy bitches! Wait 'til you see what I write about you. I'm going to give you all warts on your noses and have you belching and farting and fucking the skeeziest guys on the fuckin' planet and ..."

Suddenly, there's a hand in front of my face. I smell pussy on it. All of my senses seem to be so alive now. It's Kyra's hand. She's putting something in my mouth. I look down my nose and see that it's a card. A red card! And I taste her pussy on it. It tastes so... ungh. So fuckin' maddeningly delicious.

"You get to keep this if you can keep it in your mouth until you come."

I clamp it between my lips. Claire releases my left hand, knowing full well that I'm right handed and don't rub my nub as well with my left. On top of that, my fingers feel numb from having them above my head for so long. None of that matters. There are video cameras recording me and six women around me watching me masturbate, and each of them have one hand behind the curtain pleasuring themselves as they watch me.

There's so much sexual energy in the room that I lose whatever inhibitions I still had. I hear a couple of gasps from them as I rub until my hand stops tingling and starts feeling again. My clit feels so wonderful. So wet. So slick. So sensitive. My fingertip feels so perfect. Just the right motion. Just the right pressure. I'm coming and I don't care who's watching. The table shakes with my shuddering. My toes curl uncontrollably and my chest heaves as I'm wracked with ecstatic convulsions.

I almost blow the card out. I almost blow the toys out. But I hold on until my breathing comes back to normal. I pull the card from my mouth, smelling my own scent as my fingers pass my nose, and noticing tiny indentations in it from my teeth. Claire releases my right hand, straightens the table's legs, and cranks the table back to vertical. She releases my ankles and I can barely stand. She hugs and kisses me as I let her prop me up. I'm still feeling orgasmic aftershocks.

She whispers, "No hard feelings, Cath?"

"That was fuckin' incredible, sweetie. Did you plan this?"

"Um, no. But I helped. You didn't answer me. You're not...?"

"She's a little angry, Claire. But that's okay. Tag, you're it, Saint, although it hardly seems honest to call you that anymore. I planned it."

Kyra's words don't make sense at first, but 'Saint' brings it all home to me. "Oh! The war is back on, Slut!"

I fall into Kyra's arms and start kissing and hugging her. This was her payback to me for letting her worry about Claire.

"Um, what just happened?" Poor Claire looks lost.

I pull her in and say, "This is my best friend from college, Claire. Way back then, she... helped me push my boundaries and loosen up a little. That's when she called me Saint. She also brought me into the sisterhood. She knows how to push my buttons better than anybody."

"Cath and I have a long history of playing practical jokes on each other, Claire. I owed her one when she made me promise not to screw up her wedding, so in return for that, I promised the next prank would be..."

At the same time, we both say, "...un-fuckin-real."

Claire still looks perplexed.

"Forget it, sweetie. Maybe you can help me plan the revenge. It's going to be hard to top this, but I think with your help, it could happen."

Kyra looks at me and realizes that I'm serious. She looks appropriately scared, as well she should. Now that I'm no longer so saintly, my pranks can be a bit more creative.

Before they leave, I get a chance to say goodbye to each of the others. It's good to finally meet Barbie Malibu in person, and to thank her for the marriage counseling that helped me patch up things with Dan. When she strips off her burqa, she is naked underneath. She says she wanted to feel that "naked-but-invisible" feeling that I wrote about. She likes it. It feels weird hugging a naked woman that I've only just met. But it doesn't seem to bother her a bit. Liz asks me to consult with her on two new missions, increasing recruitment of the kind of women, and men, that we need, and then helping the new recruits transition into the sisterhood.

It is really good to see Margo again. She was wearing clothes under her burqa, as well as her holster and gun, but her jeans are unzipped and she turns a little red when I remind her to zip up before leaving. She seems a little freaked out about hugging a naked me, and she asks why I'm not as angry as she expected me to be about this bogus loyalty test. I can only tell her that I now have a score to settle with my best friend, Kyra, and not to worry about it. I ask her to say hello to the sisters back in St. Loo who helped me when I needed them.

Beth is the biggest surprise of the evening. She was always very reserved, but she hugs me without hesitation and it feels very friendly. Something has changed with her. She is clothed and wearing her sidearm also, but her short stature puts her face just barely above my breasts. When the hug goes on a little too long, I pull back so I can look into her eyes. She senses my question.

"I'm not a... I'm not bisexual, but... if you ever need a spanking, I'm your girl. And I feel like..." She leans in real close to whisper up at me, "...I think I deserve a little payback for that."

I affect Sister Cate's persona, my imitation of the nuns from my all-girl Catholic alma mater, and whisper, "We'll discuss your punishment at another time, you naughty girl."

A little shiver runs through her, but when I draw back and look into her face, there is just the barest hint of an understanding smile. "I look forward to that."

As I'm thinking about those goodbyes later in bed, Liz and Kyra step into the bedroom and see me rubbing soothing ointment into Claire's buns.

"Hmmm. I wish I could join you for some of that, but I have to leave. Thanks for being such a good sport, Cathy, and please go easy on me in the story."

"No promises, Liz. That was some acting job. You had me fooled the whole time."

"Well, thank you. I'm not just a lesbian. I'm also a thespian."

We chat about her amateur theater hobby for a few minutes. It's a side of her I never knew about. Then a question occurs to me. "How does a lesbian get into the sisterhood?"

"There's more than one way in. I have a gay beard. We have a pre-nup that's as good as your re-nup. We both wanted kids and we both wanted the sisterhood."

"So this is an option for recruitment?"

"Sure, if you can find the right candidates."

"We don't have to clear this through a central authority or...?"

"We are highly autonomous at the regional level, Cathy. We're more like a cause or a grass roots movement than a society. I could explain our global structure, but..."

I wait and she leaves the end of her sentence hanging. The message is clear. 'Need to know' does not exist for me. At least not yet. I know only that sisters in her position, regional Red Circle leaders, and sisters in Kyra's position, regional financial wizards (witches?) coordinate somehow with other regions.

"Something's been bothering me, Cathy. Be honest, you expected to be caught by us, didn't you? You played us as much as we played you."

One of the things I learned from the nuns is that sometimes it's better to let them think they know the truth, rather than confirm or deny it. I just smile and shrug ambiguously. My stories will now contain as much disinformation about me as information.

Liz seems to understand that she's not going to get anything more out of me, so she lets it go and says goodnight to all of us.

Kyra stands watching me massage Claire's buns and I guess that she's interested in joining us, but waiting for an invite.

"What do you say, Claire, should we invite our host in?"

"Sure, the more the merrier. Come on in and pull up a cheek."

"I don't want to get between a sponsor and her protégé."

"I don't see why not. You might have a little fun between the two of us."

"Get your sweet ass in here, Ky. It's been too long since I've seen you. Since you're still stretching my boundaries, you can give me my first threesome."

She crawls into bed with us. "How can I pass up an offer like that? This will be mine, too."

We look at Claire expectantly, "Sheesh. You two make me feel like I'm corrupting a couple of nuns. Wait until you try a gangbang."

This story is protected by International Copyright Law, by the author, all rights reserved. If found posted anywhere other than Lushstories.com with this note attached, it has been posted without my permission.

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