The Priest Teaches His Flock-Ch 11 The Retreat

“Mom, please don’t make us go, especially not Charlotte,” Sally begged.

“I’ve told you about this before, Sally. It’s your adolescent sexual fantasies. They are both the servants of God, and one of them is the Bishop. You should go to confession just to get penance for even thinking of such a thing. Now get your sister, I heard a car pull up,” 

Father John came into the house to pick up Sally and Charlotte. The Bishop waited in the car, he had his reasons to not be seen by Mary yet, reasons that would be revealed soon; the Bishop would deal with Mary when they returned from the retreat. “Good evening, Mary. Are the girls ready?” It was a dream come true, the girls’ mother delivering two such delightful creatures into their hands for the weekend, with her permission to punish them, which he was sure they would have to do. Sally would defy him and would then require a painful punishment to make her consent to what he wanted to do to her lovely body—in the name of the Lord. In fact, he was looking forward to it. The Bishop had said Charlotte would be more willing, but was inexperienced at anything sexual. She would just have to be taught; another task Father John found to his liking.

Sally and Charlotte walked into the room, Charlotte with a big smile on her face that partially disappeared when she didn’t see the Bishop. There was a look of resignation on Sally’s face, knowing that her own mother was delivering her to a weekend of sexual decadence and perversions. Her only hope was the she could tell the Bishop and he would stop Father John.

“Where is the Bishop?” Charlotte asked, disappointed when he wasn’t there.

“Have no fear, child; he is waiting in the car.” He moved closer to Sally, gave her a knowing look, then detouring to grab the bags from Mary. “Are you ready for a weekend of serving the Lord and his instruments, Sally; are you ready to be a servant to the Lord?”

Her head hung down, “yes, Father John,” resigning herself to the fact that she couldn’t stop him, her only salvation would be the Bishop or at least to stop Father John from molesting Charlotte.

“We will be back Monday morning, I don’t want to travel on the Sabbath,” An extra night of debauchery with your daughters. Father John’s cock was already bulging his trousers. Luckily, he had worn a coat.

“That’s fine, Father John. I know they are in good hands with you and the Bishop. Teach them how to do the Lord’s work. And don’t forget, girls, if you misbehave, Father John has my permission to punish you. And, he will punish you just as I was punished when I was a little girl, a severe spanking, even with a belt if necessary. Now off you go and have a joyous time doing the Lord’s work.

They walked out to the car, a 1947 two-door Ford, no one speaking. The engine was running, winter almost upon the valley, the engine heater trying to keep the crisp air out of the car. “Both of you in the back seat,” he instructed, throwing the bags in the trunk, the Bishop allowing the girls to climb into the back of the car.

Sally was glad, at least nothing could happen until they got where they were going, which was also a problem as she had no idea where they were being taken. She noticed that Charlotte was a little distraught by not being able to sit with the Bishop. She was acting as if she had a schoolgirl crush on him.

When the Bishop had gotten out of the car to allow the girls into the back seat, he was pleased as they climbed in, their asses pushing out so temptingly. They both wore knee-length skirts, very plain, their rounded buttocks pushing out the fabric as they bent over to climb in the back seat. The Bishop climbed back into the front seat and they went speeding off into the black night. “The retreat is only about 20 minutes outside of town, we will be there quickly. I know it is a little cramped back there, but you will have a lot of room to spread out once we arrive.” And spread you will be.

It was quiet the whole trip, the girls afraid of starting a conversation—after all, these were priests, and what do you talk about to a priest? Father John and the Bishop were not interested in talking, at all; too excited about getting the girls to the retreat and into their lecherous hands.

They pulled in front of a large wooden cabin, lights burning inside, Father John having previously set up the retreat for the weekend, not wanting to waste any time. “Well girls, we have a weekend of celebrating with the Lord. Charlotte is new to these ways, so Sally, you are going to have to teach her how to please God. Sally has already sinned, she has spread malicious lies to her mother about us, so she must be punished. The Lord extracts severe punishment from his flock when they transgress. Quickly inside, it is cold out here.”

Sally knew that she was in trouble and that the Bishop was not going to help her. In fact, she feared that the Bishop would take advantage of her body as Father John does, afraid that both of them would force her to do things that she didn’t want to do. And poor Charlotte, completely unaware of what she was going to be asked to do and of what they would do to her. But Charlotte was different, she seemed so willing to do whatever was asked of her by the Bishop, awed by his power, willing to serve the Lord in any manner that the Bishop prescribed no matter how perverse. 

Charlotte felt the warmth of the fire as soon as they entered the cabin, a roaring blaze already in the fireplace. The room was not furnished like a house but as a church, an altar in the center of the room, a large, heavy wooden structure, crosses sprinkled freely over the top, a kneeling bench in front of it, the railing low enough for recipients to place their elbows on while kneeling in prayer, purple pillows to cushion the knees. What was most out of place was the strange object in the corner. It was a four-legged bench, thick hewn lumber as legs, connected to the top was a triangle of leather shooting up from the sides to reach an apex in the center, a sharp ridge of leather somehow kept rigid by whatever material filling its center. The top of the pyramid stood at least five feet from the floor. Two strange rings of metal were bolted to the floor on each side, centered symmetrically with the center of the bench. A large supply of rope was piled up high next to it. 

Charlotte did not dwell on it any longer, excited that the Bishop had brought her for the retreat, eager to please the Bishop and the Lord, willing to devote herself to His service. Her thoughts kept going back to the powerful way that the Bishop had ruled over her, just like in her dreams, an older man who forced her to do his bidding, spanking her for his pleasure, extracting pleasure from her untrained body. Now with Father John and Sally present, the thought of being stripped and humiliated before them made her sex wet, a sin that she would confess to the Bishop at the first opportunity, hoping for an act of contrition to cleanse her soul of her impure thoughts.

Sally saw the evil looking bench, knowing that it was for the express purpose of keeping her bound so they could punish her, afraid of how her limbs would be arranged on it, afraid of how exposed she would be to them.

“Bishop Samuel and I are going to change into our robes. Put your suitcases in the room over there, it is your bedroom for the weekend. Then, I want you back immediately. We are going to have a prayer session before bed.”

Charlotte and Sally opened the door to the bedroom; the first thing they saw was the mammoth bed that seemed to fill the room to overflowing. It wasn’t a double bed, much more massive, able to accommodate at least four people, Sally cringing at its purpose. She knew they would not be left alone at night, Bishop Samuel or Father John, or both would be visiting them. 

Charlotte couldn’t believe how big and comfortable the bed was compared to her small, hard bed at home. “I’m so glad I came!” Charlotte spewed out happily.”

Sally didn’t have the heart to tell her why she had been brought here, not even sure Charlotte would understand or care. She seemed perfectly content to obey whatever Father John or Bishop Samuel told her to do. “Well, you’re not the one going to get punished,” Sally shot back.

“I would take whatever punishment the Lord wished,” hoping that Bishop Samuel would punish her. They set their bags down, quickly putting their sparse belongings away. “We better get out there.”

Father John and Bishop Samuel were waiting for them, dressed in heavy black robes that hung to the floor, the girls not yet realizing that they were naked beneath them. They both wore heavy gold crosses around their necks, similar to the one that had taken Sally’s virginity not long ago, thick vines embedded on the shaft of the cross, a rough surface that would rub harshly any orifice that it entered.

“Kneel for a prayer session, girls,” motioning them over. “Tomorrow I will have some clothes for you to wear during the rest of this weekend. You will wear what novices wear. Now kneel for the Lord.” 

The girls knelt, their knees sinking into the plush pillows, their hands clasped in prayer, Father John and Bishop Samuel moving in front of them. They closed their eyes as Father John began praying loudly, asking for the Lord’s forgiveness for their sins and the sins of the young girls in front of them. Asking for the Lord to allow the girls to atone for their sins, for a sign of how they can serve the Lord. It continued for over a half an hour, their eyes tightly clenched as Bishop Samuel took over the prayers, his voice rising higher, praying to the Lord for the sins of the young girls.