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Message-ID: <63517asstr$1441627904@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: RavensDrkGothic@aol.com
Full-name: RavensDrkGothic
Subject: {ASSM} School Marm
Lines: 588
Date: Mon, 07 Sep 2015 08:11:44 -0400
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Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d


  
   
 
 
 School  Marm
 
 
    Wiping the beads of sweat from  my forehead, pushing the damp strands 
of my dark hair back behind my ears.   My dress sticking to my skin as I 
inhale the sweaty fragrance of my  body.  Looking out over the acres of wheat 
waving in the distance, then at  the sea of potato plants surrounding me as I 
tend the field.  This is not  what I expected when I traveled from the East 
Coast to Idaho.
    The article in the paper was  looking for someone to teach at a rural 
school in Idaho.  I didn't realize  that the community was a closed one.  
That they were religious oriented  similar to the Amish and Mennonites of the 
East Coat.  I do the Amish and  Mennonites an injustice to group them with  
those of the Fundamentalist  Church of the Lord's Workers.  The Bible was the 
law of the land; but  unfortunately the Elders of the Church found it easy 
to use selective  passages to guide the flock.
    Signing a contract that was sent  and the money wired to me to meet 
them in Idaho Falls and then a wagon  ride north to the Lemhi Mountain Range 
and a secluded valley.  The town of  Lot the final destination.  The river 
running through the valley and the  fields of produce so reminding me of a 
farming community.  The sturdy  square houses and oversize barns and out 
building similar at each stead.  
    The attire of the folks quaint  and charming.  Well, not really.  
Everything so plain and drab and  dark colored.  The women all wearing dark blue 
or black dresses, with a  white apron and white prayer hats to hide their 
hair.  The dress so  non-descript in shape and cut.  The men similarly attired 
in dark trousers  and white shirts.  The scraggly beards of the men 
unshaven as is the hair  of the women uncut.
    The focal point of this  community the church.  The town Elders severe 
looking men as I climb down  from the wagon.  Their greeting formal as they 
lead me to the school house  and the rooms behind it that would be my living 
quarters.
    The look at my attire as I  dismounted, I could see would be a problem. 
 My skirt a light blue and a  rose colored blouse.  The cut of my skirt a 
good length; but it conformed  to my hips and upper thighs.  The blouse again 
a tight cut and showing off  what bosom I have, plus the heat had caused me 
to undo a couple of buttons and  expose a vee of white flesh.
    "Miss Patrice, welcome."   The look of disapproval not well hidden as I 
was shown around and explained my  duties.  Sort of distressed that I would 
not have a lot of the children  when chores needed to be done or at 
harvesting time.  And as they reached  adulthood they would then work full time.  
The girls time being when they  had their first period and the boys at age of 
fourteen.  The school room  where I was to teach them reading and writing 
and arithmetic and history a  single class with a small living quarters 
attached for me to  live.
    I don't know what they  expected.  I am an older woman, in my forties.  
My looks are not what  anyone would cause to say are beautiful or sexy.  To 
me I am quite  plain in physical appearance and looks.  My knowledge is my 
best  asset.  And I had taught, quite successfully for many years with no  
complaints.  The need to make a change is why I accepted this  position.  
There was no family or friends to keep me in the East and I  thought I would 
like to experience the rest of the country.
    The town nothing big or  fancy.  Needless to say, no saloon.  It did 
have a mercantile store  and a feed and grain store.  A blacksmith shop and a 
small restaurant  and inn that opened when there were customers.  No bank  
surprising to me; but I would guess being a religious community like it is, 
no  need to bank money.  A doctor's office.  And a number of warehouses  and 
pens and a stable off to the side.  A few houses scattered  around.
    The main building and it was a  huge building was the church.  The tall 
steeple with the cross on top  visible from miles away.  The tower housing 
a huge bell, that first time I  heard it, scared the heck out of me.  I am 
sure it could be heard from  miles and miles away on a clear day.  The church 
also served as the town  hall as the Elders ran the town.  It literally 
dominated the town with its  size.  The uncommon thing about it other then size 
is the fact that it had  a full basement as I was to learn.  Also attached 
to the church were small  building for various functions.  Think of a very 
drab cathedral and this  would be one of a smaller size.
    The Fundamentalist Church of the  Lord Worker's preached that old time 
religion of work hard and read your  Bible.  The clothing and the lack of 
humor and color in their world making  me depressed as I walked around the 
town for the first day.  The few people  I pass, showing me their disapproving 
looks as the Elders did when I  arrived.  My clothing which wasn't fancy 
needing to be toned down in some  way.  Shaking my head in the store as I look 
at the wares and clothing that  was offered for sale.  A would assume they 
don't get very many strangers to  the town and I know why they don't stay 
long.  The telegraph office as I  found out set up in the store.
    Well, looks like this is my home  for the next year.  I had spend a 
good part of the money they send me to  travel here and couldn't pay it off.  I 
will honor my contract and leave  when it is done.  Wishing I had brought 
more books that I might read, as I  found none at all available in the store 
and no library.  I think the Bible  is the only book you will find in any of 
the homes.
    The first days of teaching the  younger kids the same; but changing as 
the older ones are needed for different  chores and duties.  Most of the 
children so serious in learning, the others  ones bored as they are thinking of 
work to be done when they get home.   Playing seeming like a chore to these 
children as I teach them some simple  games.  An Elder observing as I teach 
and I expect that I am on some kind  of probation.  They will review and 
comment on what I am and what I am not  doing.  Sighing as I again see a look 
of disapproval on the face of the  Elder.
    Three hundred and sixty two days  to go.  There is nothing to do in 
this town or no one to talk with.   Sunday I will go to church and meet the 
congregation, at least those that are  able to make it to the services.  I am 
told they have a reception after  church in the basement.  They had some type 
of meeting the day after I  arrived; but was told it was for members only.  
Also I learned that in this  valley there are other large farmsteads that 
are used for Sunday services, for  those to far to travel regularly.
    Saturday is market day in this  town.  Lots of wagons and buggies and 
riders and pedestrians moving to the  store and the warehouses.  The 
restaurant is open and people just visit  around the town green in front of the 
church.  Everything is done today as  tomorrow you have to keep the Sabbath.  No 
work, no play, just services and  read your Bible I guess.  Trying to meet 
more people; but most just ignore  me.  And some seem to be afraid to talk 
to me.  Timid  women.
    Cooking for myself, not wanting  to spend the little money I have on 
buying myself a meal.  Some of the  children bring in eggs and produce and 
some smoked meats and cheese and bread  for the teacher.  So I do have 
foodstuffs and don't need to buy anything;  but would love some companionship and 
conversation.
    By dark the town is quiet and an  evening service is going on at the 
church; but I was instructed that it is only  for those of the faith.  I may 
be Catholic; but am also a Christian and I  thought I could attend any 
Christian church.  Seems I am wrong.  
    The building is filling as I  watch from the window of my little 
apartment.  Men, women and children  alike.  Many will sleep in the church and 
others camp out in the open area  around the town and in their wagons.  Market 
day and the late service,  combined with the Sunday observance lets them 
visit once a week from farther  away homesteads.
    Finally, tired of watching as  the doors are closed and two men stand 
in front of them.  Preventing those  not of the faith from breaking in on the 
service.    Changing to  my nightgown and slipping under the covers and 
listening to the sound of night  as a cool breeze blows through the open 
windows.  Finding my hand rubbing  my small breasts through my gown.  The nipples 
swelling further then they  normally are as for some reason they are always 
semi hard.  My fingers  finding there way lower and pulling up my gown and 
touching the bare skin of my  mound.  Legs spreading to ease the opening for 
my fingers to touch the fat  lips of my puss.  One hand tugging the gown 
higher to bunch it above my  breasts, as I kick off the light bedding and let a 
little moonlight bask my body  in a soft glow.  My knees bending and 
pulling my lips further apart as my  fingers find the small smooth button nestling 
in the soft folds above my  slit.
    Moaning softly as my fingers rub  and pinch and squeeze at the 
sensitive flesh and work into the opening of my  slit.  Feeling the moisture oozing 
from the walls to coat my fingers as I  plunge two into my body as I bend my 
legs apart, thighs falling outward.   My eyes closing and remembering some 
of the times that I have let a man touch me  and maybe a little more.  Soft 
moans as I build up to a slow release, a  gentle orgasm.  The cool breeze 
making my nipples ache with  sensation.  Looking down and see my body in the 
soft light of the  moon.
    The small bosom, with the hard  aching nipples, then the smooth tummy 
and the pouty mound framed by hips a  little to wide for my body.  These damn 
farmers would say hips meant for  bearing babies.  That is not likely to 
happen as I have not had a period in  the past 6 years.  Early menopause 
maybe, I am 44 now so maybe my body is  old.  My long legs a shame to hide, those 
who have seen them bare are  impressed.
    My fingers working their magic  as my hips raise up and slowly fuck my 
fingers.  A sweaty release is my  reward.  I do feel calmer for my nasty 
bedtime pursuit.  Giggling as I  realize how shocked these good people would 
be.  Bringing my fingers to my  mouth and sniffing them and then sucking the 
wetness and my scent from the long  slender digits.
    Covers thrown back as I let the  night air caress my warm flesh and 
sometime I pulled the covers back over my  body in the night.  Three nights in 
a row playing with my pretty little  pussy.  Wondering if my lack of 
companionship is turning me into one of  those oversexed women.
    Rising up with the daylight and  looking to find my best subdued outfit 
to attend my first Sunday service in the  town.  A brown skirt and peach 
button blouse and a chocolate sun  bonnet.  The blouse buttoned to my neck, 
and the skirt to the middle of my  high laced shoes.  And not snug at all 
around my hips.  A simple shift  underneath to prevent the sun from outlining my 
body under my skirt and  blouse.  Long brown hair pulled back in a bun 
under my bonnet and just a  light touch of a perfume that was given to me by a 
male friend.  And a  shawl pulled over my shoulders to protect me from the 
light breeze and gentle  rain of the morning.
    Looking in the cloudy mirror and  thinking myself presentable to meet 
the congregation and the Elders once  again.  My introduction will maybe 
garner me some respect and friendly  attitude from others in the community.
    Carefully walking upright and  purposely controlling the swing of my 
hips, so I am not thought as saucy.   Stepping around puddles as I lift my 
skirts and in spite of my intent finding  myself walking not quite prim and 
proper at times.  Nodding to others that  I see hurrying to the church and the 
welcoming Elders as they tip their hats to  the ladies and shake the hands 
of the men.  This doesn't seem to be as  daunting as I thought it would be.  
A slight bow of a head by the Elder and  I walk into the church.  
    The pews rough hewn would,  barely finished and not made for comfort.  
Running in four long lines from  back to front.  Then a railing and then the 
seats facing the congregation  for the Elders and guests.  A choir area 
with a piano off to the side and  the lectern high in the center of the front.
    An Elder indicating that I  should sit up front as I walk down the 
center aisle.  Looking ahead and  trying to walk primly as I sit down in the 
seat indicated.  Facing the  congregation and seeing a few faces I recognize; 
but don't really know the  names.  This is a bit stressful as the huge bell 
clangs above and calls out  that the service is ready to begin.  
    The damp rain chilling me in  spite of my shawl and the wet drop 
darkening the light colored skirt and  top.  Looking out and seeing some of the 
women and men plastered with  moisture as the rain is noticeably loud on the 
roof and walls.
    The service beginning with all  standing and singing a couple of hymns 
and then an Elder reading passages from  the Bible.  Each family having 
their own Bible in hand, following the words  chapter and verse.  A sermon 
concerning the readings following as the Elder  stand above and shouts down his 
fire and brimstone to the swaying mass and a  series of "Amens" filling the 
room in the silence following each point  made.
    More songs and hymns all of a  spiritual nature as the Elder retreats 
to his seat.  This service a  contrast to my Catholic upbringing and more 
ritualistic service mostly in  Latin.  
    Another Elder listening to  confession of sins and wrongdoings by 
members of the congregation and these  written down to be judged as to what 
reparation or punishment for these  trespasses.  The somber attitude of all a 
little depressing.  Public  confession just not seeming right as I listen to a 
woman say that she teased a  man with her words.  Or a man confessing to 
using profanity.  Another  lying about damage his bull did to a neighbors 
fence.  Nothing major in the  way of sins as I see it; but the group finding each 
of these admissions as a  major transgression.
    Finally, an Elder standing up  and telling the group that there is a 
new school teacher.  Standing up and  a nod of my head and a curtsey as he 
introduces me.  Miss Patrice Rust from  Poughkeepsie, New York.  His turning to 
me to see if he pronounced it  correctly.  Nodding again as I stand, all 
eyes focused on me and feeling my  light colored clothingiss drawing their 
eyes and as basic as my skirt and blouse  are, they were definitely more 
feminine then the clothing of the women  present.
    "Miss Patrice will be our lead  teacher in most subjects.  You will not 
teach anything from the Bible to  our children or touch upon biblical 
subjects as you are a non member of our  faith.  Your Catholic ways are adverse 
to ours.  In addition to your  not schooling our children on faith; we noted 
that you dress in a style; not  befitting our community.  We know you are 
knew to us and there is an  adjustment that you will have to make.  We advise 
that you buy suitable  clothing from our store or modify yours so it is not 
a distraction to the  community.  Do you understand Miss Parice?"  Nodding 
my head as I feel  a flush of heat filling my cheeks as I stand like a child 
being  chastised.
    "Additionally we expect you keep  your body covered, meaning that you 
should button your blouse to your neck and  not expose your lower limbs to 
our easily impressionable children  and young men."  Feeling a fear in the pit 
of my stomach  as I continue to stand, fingers clutching at my skirt, legs 
trembling  beneath.
    "These offenses we will allow  you this one time; but any further will 
be dealt with as we deal with all  transgressions.  A penance will be 
enforced.  However, we have one  last item to deal with you Miss Patrice at this 
time.  You may not know it  but we have a night watch they keep all town and 
church building under their  protection.  Last night, as they made there 
rounds, they looked in your  open window and saw you lying naked on your bed, 
touching yourself in impure  ways.  That is an offence that we cannot 
overlook.  That our children  or young men and women might have seen you or even 
our adults, could have been  sinful for those exposed to your wanton ways of 
the world.  For this you  will do penance but also be punished as befits your 
evil deed."
    "The Elders have already  conferred and agreed that you will be given 
ten lashes with a willow branch and  confined to stocks till dusk.  That is 
the final word of the Board.   You may be seated and we will take this up 
further after the service is  concluded."
    Shocked and standing legs  shaking now as I digest that I was spied on 
last night and reported for being  naked and touching myself in the privacy, 
I thought, of my room.  One of  the Elders, reaching over and forcing me to 
sit as I try to think of a reply to  the accusations.  The members of the 
community looking shocked and  disgusted at the words of the Elder.
    Teary bleary in my eyes as the  service is concluded and a closing song 
as the people file out of the  church.  Being led out of the main room of 
the church to a side door and  then to a small park next to the cemetary.   
Seeing old fashion stocks  that I had seen before in towns.  Not used in many 
years; but functioning  in this community still. 
    The men leading me to not the  sitting stocks; but to an unright one 
and lifting the bar, inserting my head and  wrists into half moons cut from 
the wood.  The bar being let down to  enclose my hands and head as straps are 
tied around my wrists.  Tears  welling in my eyes as I look at the growing 
crowd of people coming to watch,  bringing their children and placing them in 
front.  The man who had let his  bull destroy property also in stocks and 
sentenced to receive 10 strokes of the  crop and reparation to his neighbor.  
The others told to pay a fine in  either money, property or work time to 
the community.
    Watching as one of the Elders  prepares a willow switch and flicks it a 
few times to limber up his wrist.   My eyes watching the movement of the 
branches tied together and hearing the  sound of it moving through the air.
    Then following him with my eyes  as he walks behind me.  Wondering how 
much that will hurt and if it will  rip my skirt.  Then feeling a cool 
breeze on my legs, as my skirt is lifted  up and then shift and pinned to the 
back of my dress.  My bare thighs and  ass cheeks totally exposed and naked to 
whomever is behind me.  Protesting  at this indignity; but screaming as a 
blow on the back of my calve stops  my  movement.  The burning of the branches 
welting and burning a path  of raw skin from the back of my leg.
    The crowd silent as an Elder  walks in front of me.  "Miss Patrice, 
that was not one of your ten  lashes.  That is to settle you down to behave 
like an adult that has sinned  against the congregation.  We will proceed now 
with your punishment."  
    My face flushing as I wait, legs  trembling as I close my eyes and gird 
myself for the pain and humiliation.   The first stroke ripping a quick 
scream as I bite my lower lips, my ass burning  with the sting of the cruel 
branches.  The next ones finding more tender  skin, as tears roll down my 
cheeks and my hands grasp at the wood bar holding  them.  A six my ass and the 
backs of my thighs are raw with rising welts  and burning flesh.  The next 
four start to crisscross already torn and  bruised flesh.  My legs quivering as 
I stand with my ass cheeks aflame as  the crowd had chanted the strokes.
    Weeping as my skirts are  unpinned and lowered over my bare skin.  The 
mere touch of my shift on my  bleeding ass making me wiggle to escape the 
touch.  Not looking up as the  crowd thins and many move to the basement to 
enjoy a breakfast repast.   Whimpering as I stand half bent over.  
    I received no pleasure as I  heard the man also being punished.  Glad 
that I could not see his beating  and very few stayed to watch it either.  
The long morning now moving to  afternoon and the sun shaded from the stocks 
in use.  Others I could see  would be in the sun all day long.  A dipper of 
water offered to me as my  only substance for the day.  And to add to my 
humiliation I had to relieve  myself publicly, pissing inside my dress and 
wetting it and my legs and feet as  a puddle forms between my legs.
    My calves straining as are the  muscle in my upper legs and my back 
aching from being bent down awkwardly.   Hearing conversation around me; but 
not looking up to see who it is and trying  not to listen to the words.  
Before the sun began to set, a young woman  came to me and gave me some more 
water to drink and then using pining my skirt  up, she washed the bruised flesh 
of my ass cheeks and legs.  I tried not to  cry and whimper like a baby; but 
the pain and humiliation again filled me as she  dried off my legs and 
washed the piss from my legs and the rubbed some salve  that did soothes and 
take away from of the itch and pain.
    "Thank you."  My words lost  as the young woman looked at me and 
hurried away without saying a word.   Then the night watch lit lanterns on the 
main street and finally freed me from  the stocks.  Their smiles half hidden as 
they watch me walk sorely to my  one room apartment.  
    Closing my windows and curtain  and bolting the door as I sit gingerly 
on the side of my bed and cry over  my situation.  The older students with 
their sly smiles and whispers, the  younger ones not quite understanding what 
happened to me and more importantly  what I was accused of doing in the 
privacy of my room.  
    The dog days of summer I guess  these were and after school, I had no 
special duties other then be prepared for  the next day.  So I would go 
walking to the woods just outside of town and  sit by a pool of water and read 
one of my few books or just look at the stream  meandering into the pool and 
back out the other side.  The stream coming  down from one side of the 
mountains bordering the valley and the water  surprising cool and refreshing to 
the touch.
    My secret place as I like to  think of it hidden away from the drab 
people of this community, who most likely  couldn't appreciate a place of 
beauty if they were shown it.  Letting my  fingers trail in the water as I lie on 
the bank and after a few days and seeing  no one around, walking into the 
water in my shift.  The water chilling me;  but feeling so refreshing at the 
same time as I splash and laugh and enjoy this  little freedom and pleasure. 
 The wet shift molding to my body as almost a  second skin.  My small 
breast sort of defined; but the cool water affecting  my nipples in a most 
delicious way as they thrust out hard and pointy, aching to  be touched.
    Taking a bar of soap the next  time I go I strip naked and give my body 
and hair a through cleaning, turning to  look at my ass cheeks and barely 
seeing the red lines of where my ass was  welted.  Laying back on the grass 
to let my body dry; before donning my  shift and dress.  Looking down and 
seeing the not yet body of a forty-four  year old woman.  Thinking it would be 
desirable to some men and leaning  against a tree trunk as I dream of some 
young man desiring me and taking me away  to live happily ever after.  My 
fingers teasing my nipples and pussy as my  hand is hidden under my skirt.
    Not a satisfying release; but a  bit of a guilty orgasm as I could not 
let myself feel comfortable, looking  around to see if anyone is watching.  
Smiling with a bouquet of wild  flowers from my room and for the schoolroom 
on the morrow.  Then  remembering that tomorrow is Saturday and market day 
in town.
    Will be two weeks down and fifty  to go with my contract.  Humming 
softly as I walk to the road leading into  town and finding a vase and water for 
my flowers.  Saturday there are more  people on the road walking into the 
town and passing time at the various stalls  that have foodstuffs and dry 
good made by the folks for sale.
    A walk around; but finding  myself still basically ignored with just a 
handful of nods and greetings.   My clothing still a start contrast to the 
uniformity of the community in  dress.  I had meant to buy an outfit of the 
locals; but still hadn't got to  the point where I felt I was one of them.  I 
have seen some of the women  wearing light brown dresses instead of the 
dark blue or black traditional  wear.  I had meant to ask one of the women what 
is the distinction; but  they shy away from me and will not speak.
    The day dragging on even more so  then a day teaching school; but the 
hot sun reaches its zenith and slowly drags  down through the afternoon sky.  
My walk in the woods not as satisfying as  usual, as I don't dare bathe 
with so many moving around the town.  So I sit  and read for awhile and then 
return again to my small room.  Bathing in a  basin with my curtains drawn 
tight and door hooked so no accident of my nudity  will affect the morals of 
this community.  Sitting in my shift afterward  and reading for a little while 
as I hear the bell announcing that their Saturday  service will commence 
shortly.
    Looking out my small window and  watching the shift of people from the 
roads and streets and movement to the huge  double doors of the church.  I 
wonder what the service is like as the doors  are shut as the bell ends its 
tolling.  The two men again at the  outside.  Watching for a few minutes and 
seeing a line of light as the door  opens and the men watching the doors 
move to the outline of a man.  Then  both of them head directly to the 
schoolhouse.  Watching as they come to  the side door and knock.
    "Miss Rust, the Elders request  your presence at the church."  They 
knock again, turning the door handle  and finding it locked.  "Miss Rust, you 
are asked to the church."   Using the time to grab a blouse and skirt.
    "Give me a minute please I am  not ready to go in public."  Buttoning 
my blouse and tucking it in my skirt  as I run my hands through my hair and 
step into my shoes, buttoning them  quickly.
    Then walking to the door and  undoing the simple hook of my lock and 
walking out to the growing dimness of the  evening.  The men walking either 
side of my as I hurry to keep up.  My  skirt swirling around my ankles as I 
climb up the steps and the men open the  door for me.  
    My surprise when I find an Elder  waiting in the back and the rest of 
the church empty.  Following wordlessly  as I am led to a side door that 
leads down to the basement and a room full of  people.  All eyes turning to me 
and the conversation a stillness now in the  room as I am led forward to 
where the elders are standing.
    The lack of small children a  surprise, as they were with their parents 
during the day.  Now a basement  full of adults and fledging adults.  My 
eyes taking in this room as I  stop and turn to the rest of the room.  Areas 
partitioned off; but not  totally closed off from the rest.  Where I am 
standing, looking out once  again at the somber and disapproving crowd, a flush 
of fear making me tremble  again.  
    The Elder raising his hands for  a silence that already existed as he 
stands on a small dais.  "My brothers  and sister," his words loud, echoing 
against the walls.  "Our Sister  Patrice is here to confess her 
transgressions against us as a people and as a  faith."  The words making me look at him 
as I feel my arms grasped lightly  by my escorts.  "She again has disturbed 
the morals of our community by  exposing her body and touching herself in 
public and we may well assume she is  doing it in private also.  More 
disturbing is that the young children have  seen this display of wanton evil.  
Walking in our woods and bathing naked  and then touching herself where anyone 
might observe."
    Feeling the flush of heat in my  cheeks as I listen, and realize that 
they must have had someone watching me at  all times and followed me on my 
walks.  I did not see any children anywhere  that might have seen me when I 
was bathing.  My nervousness turning to  fear, as I remember the last time 
they chastised me and it was in public.   Wanting to defend myself; but what 
could I say in my defense to this closed  minded community.
    "Brothers and Sisters, we must  punish this evil woman, who in a few 
short weeks has defied our rules more then  once.  She shall be marked as evil 
and become a ward of the  community.  We will watch over her and keep her 
busy, so she can not harm  the minds and souls of our children."
    Watching as a low kneeler  is brought forth and placed in front of the 
Elder.  "Strip her so she can  be born again into our community."  The two 
men pushing me forward and  holding me as two women come forward and cut my 
clothing from my body as I face  the congregation.  My attempt to cover and 
protect myself a futile effort  as I stand naked and exposed in front of all.
    Feeling the flush of anger and  fear washing over me my clothing lays 
piled in a heap next to me.  Then the  men pulling me to the kneeler and 
bending me over and tying my hands to the  bottom and also my ankles.  Bent over 
and shamefully exposed from  behind.  Not only my ass cheeks stretched and 
exposed; but the position  pulling my thighs apart and my lower parts 
exposed between my  thighs.
    Weeping softly as I lay  helpless, waiting for the next humiliation.  
Wondering what they will use  on my ass cheeks to beat the evil out of my 
body.  Shock registering and a  loud scream as I feel someone holding my body 
and a burning pain in my left  cheek.  The smell of burnt flesh filling my 
nose as I writhe in pain to  pull away.  Tears cascading down my cheeks and 
flying as I shake my head  and scream again.  Then feeling press of the 
burning gone; but a strong  ache in my twitching ass cheek.  Sweat slipping down 
my body, as it reacts  to the pain.  Then feeling anointment or grease being 
rubbed on the  burn.  
    "You Sister Patrice have been  marked on your left side with the mark 
of a fallen Christian.  This will  follow you forever that you have been a 
hand maiden of the devil.  You may  be saved; but you will always remember 
what you were.  Now we will  administer your punishment for your immoral deeds."
    The willow crop again slapping  against my ass, just the right cheek 
and the backs of my thighs.  Crying  out and whimpering as the strokes past 
ten and finish at twentyfive.  My  body  pulling at my bonds; but unable to 
escape the cruel branches as they  welt and bruise the tender flesh of my body.
    Kneeling head bent and sobbing  as they finish the count.  My face 
coated with my sweat and tears and  spittle and my body burning with the heat 
and pain of the beating and the  branding.  Whimpering as my head is lifted by 
my hair and I look into the  solemn face of the Elder. 
    Then wide eyed and shocked as he  unbuttons his fly and pulls out his 
aroused organ.  Thrusting it to my  mouth and against my lips.  My mouth 
closed till he squeezes my nostrils  shut and I gasp and open like a fish.  His 
fat cock pushing against and  into my mouth and then fucking it as he holds 
my head.  My eyes closed as I  try to seal myself away from this abuse.  
Choking as he spews his seed  against the back of my mouth as he rocks on his 
heels and empties his  balls.    Gasping and sputtering as he pulls free.  
His  organ slick and semi hard as he releases my hair and steps away.  Another 
 Elder quickly taking his place.  Using my mouth for their sexual  
pleasure.  Finally being release and turned to the congregation, after all  of the 
Elders have used my mouth.
    Looking out on the gathered  community, the salty taste of semen 
coating my mouth and lips, as the Elder  announces to the congregation.  Sister 
Patrice will now be named Raven as  she is a familiar of the devil.  Everyone 
in the community can use this  sinner to release their desires.  She will 
become a community ward and will  be available for work for those who need 
help.  Her name will be on the  board as are the others and you may sign up to 
have her during the  week."
    "Now we will enjoy our usual  Sunday Eve celebration.  Standing on weak 
legs as two women in brown  dresses step up and begin cutting my hair.  The 
long dark brown stands  pooling around my ankles as I try to free myself 
from the two men.  Sobbing  helplessly as they take a razor and shave my head 
bald and my eyebrows  also.  Then they kneel in front of my and cut away the 
public hair from my  body and then shave the short ends.  My privates 
totally bare, as I tremble  in shame.
    Then the two men take me to a  low table and lay me on it, again tying 
my wrists and ankles to the legs.   The rape then begins as a series of men 
lay on me and fuck my exposed body and  fill me with their seed.  Closing my 
eyes to the seemingly endless line of  men, queuing up to fuck me.  The 
evening a blend of shame and horror as I  am used like a vessel to receive 
their seed.
    Women watching and commenting on  my body and how I am so easy and 
willing.  Not sure how being tied and  spread makes me easy and willing.
    My ass raw and burning as it  rubs on the rough table and my pubes are 
swollen a bruised from the number of  men pounding into my pussy.  Nipples 
aching and sore as the men pinch and  tug and bite and rub their rough beards 
on the tender flesh.  Old men,  middle aged and young men fucking me.  
Married men as their women urge them  on.
    And in the other partioned areas  men and women having sex in front of 
the rest.  Again married partners  exchanging with each other and women 
taking on a bunch of men at one  time.
    Finally retreating into myself  as I try not to focus or look at these 
men.  Losing count long before they  are done.  And not wanting them to see 
that I am aroused by this in spite  of it being rape or maybe because of it 
being a rape.
    Waking to an almost dark  basement.  A women kneeling by my head and 
wiping my face with water.   My arms and legs now free as I sit up and sip 
from a ladle.  My lips sore  as is the rest of my body.  Trying to stand on 
trembling legs as I feel the  pain of my beating and brand a strong dull pain.  
    The woman handing me a brown  dress that I drop over my battered body 
and she explains what this community is  about in a low whisper.  Holding me 
to her chest as he strokes the baldness  of my head.
    The community god fearing and  bible toting when and where it is 
convenient for them.  The men and women  young adults and older ones allowed to 
have sex with anyone.  Anyone being  relatives if they are fourteen for males 
and bleeding if females.  In the  homes the oldest male is the head and he 
uses who lives with him went and where  he wants.  On Saturday evenings the 
community can come together and  exchange partners or have multiple ones if 
they desire.  
    The women in the brown dresses  are basically slaves of the community 
and are free to be used for sex whenever a  male has the desire or need.  
They are also assigned to help out those who  need workers during the regular 
week.  The mark or brand on the left cheek  designates these women as evil.  
The brand an upside down cross.   There is no rape in the community; because 
the men always have a woman available  for sex without touching one of the 
Sisters.
    I now  sleep in the  basement with my fellows brown dresses.  There are 
now nine of us and I  found out that they advertise for women with no 
family and then find reasons to  make them an indentured servant of the community.
    ---------------
    Again looking up from the  potatoes and at the distant fields, thinking 
my contract is up this day.   At least I think I have been here a year.  
Longing to be away from this  endless and helplessness slavery.  Eyes misting 
as I remember my first  attempt to escape this valley and the distant sound 
of hounds as I miss my  morning wake up.  The grass and shrubs tearing at my 
legs and dress as I  try to out run the pursuit and the hounds baying as 
they surround me and the men  rope around my neck leading back into the town.  
Confined to a small cell  till Market Day and then brought to the back of 
the church to be  disciplined.
    The other women in the brown  dresses watching as I am bent naked over 
a low bar and then my wrists and ankles  staked to the ground.  Kneeling 
spread wide, the pole pressing into my  stomach as I breathe evenly.  My 
nakedness not something to hide  anymore.  The expected whipping again not a 
surprise, as I have been  chastised numerous times now.
    The men and women gathered  round, no children in sight.  Then a groan 
and a tensing of my legs as I  jerk from a soft wetness between my legs.  
The slobbering tongue wide and  wet and flexible, as it licks my exposed 
pubes.   Whimpering as it  slips against my labia and pushes into the opening.  
My eyes wide as I  realize the source of the torment and worse that I am 
becoming excited and  helpless as my pulling away has become a spreading of my 
thighs and a pushing  back to the tongue.  
    The wet nose of the hound cool  on my now hot and swollen labia as I 
whimper, eyes closed and nipples aching  with sensation.  Then grunting as the 
hound pulls away and his sharp nails  gouge into the soft skin, ripping 
furrows of red on my waist.  His slimey  cock bobbing between my legs as I feel 
him wiggling against me and his aroused  prick finds my entrance.  Moaning 
and groaning has he pumps his hips and  settles it deep in my warm tunnel.  
His hips moving quickly fucking his new  bitch, as his paws clamp around my 
waist.  The rough wood digging into my  stomach as his weight pushes me 
forward.  Saliva dripping onto my back and  his hot fetid breath strong in my 
nostrils.
    Then feeling my slick walls  rippling with his thrusts and my hips 
pushing back to fuck this hound.  My  cunt now spasming and contracting hard on 
his long doggie cock.  Feeling  his knob pressuring my entrance then jamming 
the flesh open, lodging it in my  warm puss.  My grease coating his cock, 
easing its passage,  Feeling  him jerking now, his thin seed filling my cunt 
with a large quantity of  cream.   Whimpering and moaning and writhing on 
his cock as he holds  it deep in my body and spews it again and again at the 
opening to my womb.   My body this quivering as he finally pulls free after a 
long minute.  The  wet pop of his knot freeing loud in the pounding in my 
head.  
    The laugher and comments of the  men and women, filling my ears, as I 
lay draped over the pole.  Dog cum  leaking out of my well fucked cunt.
    An Elder coming over and leaning  down to raise my head.  Eyes glassy 
as he speaks.  "That is your  reward for trying to escape.  None have 
succeeded."  Dropping my head  to lie it against the cool grass, drool leaking from 
my mouth as dog cum  continues to leak out of my sloppy cunt lips.
    One of my friends, a brown  dress, bringing me water to drink and 
cleaning between my legs and freeing me to  help with the evening repast and 
entertaining, if a man would want to use me  after being bitch fucked.
    Well my second attempt ended  like my first; but two dogged fucked and 
the third the same three dog  fucked.  The other girls, learning after their 
first attempt.  What  the Elders don't understand is that I love the bitch 
fucking of those  hounds.  I find them better partners then the men that 
empty their seed  into all three of my holes and care not one wit about my 
pleasure.  Luckily  I am aroused easily and cum often with no real help from the 
men.  And when  it is done, I have to comfort of the other women; who have 
very pleasing tongues  and fingers.....
    
    
    
    
    
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