A Silhouette Sunday
by Ghost Writer
“What are you?”
“What are you?”
I screamed out the word with all the other women. Kneeling on the hard concrete, shoulder to shoulder, all of our eyes were fixed on the priest in front of us. For the past hour the old priest has been lecturing us on a woman’s role in the Church of Shadow, and as a relative newcomer to the church I was lapping up very word.
"Bow and lay yourself out like the whore you are. Remember your body of sin and lay down in the dirt where you belong. LAY DOWN IN THE DIRT WHERE YOU BELONG!”
At the thundering words from the old priest, all the women threw themselves to the ground. Face down, I lay there on the floor as I heard the footsteps of the priest walking out of the room. Only after hearing the door closed did I dare moved.
One by one, all of us women slowly got up from the floor. We kept an eye on the door where the priest exited. Occasionally, the priest in charge of the sermon would re-enter the room to continue the sermon. If that happen, all the women would throw themselves to the ground immediately as the priest continued the sermon. After nine years, even I knew that a woman should never stand in the holy presence of a Priest of Shadow. Of course after kneeling for an hour, we couldn’t be quick even if we wanted to.
Like most Churches of Shadow, our local church was spilt in two. Men and women had their own chambers and priests delivered different sermons to their flock. Once through the door, men and women would separate in the lobby. Men would then enter through another set of doors into the main chamber, whereas the women would go down a flight of stairs into the basement chamber where their sermons would be held. Slowly, we made out way back up the stairs.
Once in the lobby, I saw that the men were missing. As usual, the men’s sermons were longer than the women's and I waited patiently with all the other women. After the first few times this happened, I asked Roy why the men were always late. His reply was that after the sermon the men would usually loiter around inside the chamber having small talk and enjoying the refreshments made available that day. I was pissed at this at first, but after a couple of months this became something that I had come to accept. Silhouette is a man’s world and if you wanted to live here, you had to accept things like this.
All the women moved restlessly around the lobby. The area was almost completely silent with only the low rustling of cloth breaking the pristine silence. For women on Silhouette talking in public was allowed but speaking in any holy place was ‘discouraged’. The fact that we were in the lobby of a church we were attending was a further deterrence to all of us. As none of the other women will talk, I too kept quiet, waiting silently for my man like a good little woman. No one wanted to risk their heaven.
It is at times like this that I miss Earth. At least on Earth, I could pass the time looking around checking on the other women’s clothes. On Silhouette, the sumptuary laws made that a total waste of time. The laws of the planet stated that a woman must be covered from the top of her head to the bottom of her feet, with only the upper face and the hands allowed free. As the Church of Shadow controlled most things on the planet, and its teaching involved a lot about how women are sinful creatures who must constantly do and think pure thoughts, women on the planet had adopted the nun habit and veil as the clothing of choice. You could almost call it the planet’s uniform for women, as over 95% of the women on the planet wear them.
The only exceptions I could think of were off-planet tourists and women who were born off-planet and were relocated to Silhouette for work, or in my case, following her husband though his work. Like those women, I used to go out of the house dressing normally with only a shawl or scarf over my head and one hand on an umbrella. However, we often got strange looks from the locals, and foreigners like me stayed within the ‘Live Zone’ where almost no locals lived.
During my first year on the planet, Roy found a house that was both cheap and beautiful. I loved it. However it was located in a normal Silhouette neighbourhood and after we moved out of the ‘Live Zone’, I knew that I had to don the habit and veil to fit in (and to avoid the uncomfortable stares). However, the uncomfortable stares did not stop. Women in the neighborhood both for safety and in a further act of devotion to the church, covered the lower part of their face with a veil. As the only unveiled woman in the neighborhood I quickly saw that the uncomfortable stares were more intense than ever. Having a conversation with anyone in the neighborhood was impossible as the men were too embarrassed, while the women were too angry at me. It didn’t help that in Silhouette only men carry umbrellas. Donning the veil was Roy’s suggestion and I was grateful of that. I was too proud to choose to veil myself, but it was a decision I knew I had to make if I intended to speak to anyone outside the house. I just needed a push, and Roy knowingly provided that. Thinking back to those early days, I couldn’t help but smile.
It wasn’t long after that the men came out of their chamber. When I first landed on the planet, I often wondered how men knew where their women were. For what I saw, all the women were wearing a habit that brushed the floor, with a nun's veil that covered the top of the head flowing down around and over the shoulders. The face-veil further eroded any chance of recognition they have. The answer was amazingly simple.
All you need to do was to look carefully at the height of the woman, as well as her way of walking. After a few weeks, you could recognize people even without looking at their faces. The only problem was if the woman in question was a distance away. Another way of recognizing a woman was through their family crest. Each household on Silhouette has what they call a family crest. Styled after an ancient practice on Earth, the family crest was a symbol of the family and men and women wore them on their everyday clothing. For women, the crest was usually placed on the face-veil that covered their mouth. Having no idea what a family crest was, I first thought the symbols were just decorations. Only later did I understand how important it was to the people of the planet. That was just on the outside; on the insides of the women were the neurons.
My thoughts were interrupted when I saw Roy approaching. I swept one foot behind the other and used my hands to hold the skirt of the habit out from my body. As Roy reached me, I bent my knees and bowed my head. The curtsy was the formal greeting between men and women, and it was something I enjoyed. I had only seen a curtsy in period videos before I came to Silhouette and it was something new and unique to me. It was also more difficult to get right than it seemed. The curtsy on Silhouette required the women to tilt her head slightly to the side (to give off a shy look), and to have her eyes at the waist of the man. When I first did it, I was told my curtsy had a long list of problems, everything from not bending my legs properly to tilting my head too much. It took me months of practice in orientation class before I got it right. When the instructor finally told me it was okay, I felt like jumping for joy.
Right now however, I gave the prefect curtsy and held the position. Roy’s hand was perfectly in place at the side of his waist. “Stand” The order came and with permission given, I stood. I lowered my hands and slowly stood up. I kept my eyes down, looking at his waist as Roy attached a leash to me. The neck and shoulders of a woman is covered by a piece of garment called the wimple. On Silhouette, the wimple has a hook right where the Adam’s apple should be. The people of Silhouette called this hook the Eve’s apple. After attaching a leash, Roy led me to the door of the church where we partake in the holy water of the planet. A drink of the church, everyone who enters a Church of Shadow is required to drink a glass of holy water before they are allowed to enter or exit. Not a problem for men, but a woman like myself has to drink it through the face-veil. With the family crest on the veil itself, this drink was even more symbolic for women than it was for men.
Before exiting the church I put the second face-veil over my face. Our habit came with 2 face-veils that were hung loose by the side of the veil that covered our head. A woman usually unattached the outer one when they were indoors. The outer face-veil was waterproof and as we exited the church, we were immediately pelted with rain. As much as I loved the people and way of life here, I must say that the weather of Planet Silhouette was every bit as dreadful as rumored. It rained 3 days out of 4 and when it was not raining, dark clouds filled the sky. They say there hasn’t been a sunny day on the planet for years; Silhouette years, which is about three times longer than one Earth year. The fact that the rainwater was mildly poisonous to a woman’s Y-chromosome made me glad that my waterproof face-veil was on. Although it wasn’t poisonous to the touch, any woman who drinks the rainwater on Silhouette would likely to be ill for the next 4-5 days.
Roy quickly opened an umbrella that sheltered him from the rain. As a woman I was left following him in the rain. When I first came on planet I thought this was cruel and unfair. However, my perception of men being safe from the rain, while women were left soaking, was wrong. Even though I was walking in the rain, I was perhaps drier than Roy. The only concession I had to make was to keep my head down as my eyes were uncovered. I wasn’t even cold as the habit was thick and it helped kept out the cold weather. In fact, every part of my outfit was waterproof and the only part of me that was wet was my feet as Roy liked the idea of me walking barefooted in the streets. If anything, Roy was the one who was suffering from the weather as all he had was a short-sleeve T-shirt with jeans. His attire may be more comfortable than the habit but it wasn’t as practical on Silhouette.
As I saw my husband walking with my leash in his hand, I thought of our time together and how things had certainly changed since we first met. I find I don’t really mind being led on a leash, because it felt right. Even if I was unhappy about it, I wouldn’t voice my unhappiness. That Starfleet officer was right- it is something in the air.
About 10 years ago…
The room was gray and the interview was more sombre than I had envisioned. The Starfleet officer sitting in front of me was a Miss Amanda Johnson. An officer from the Foreign Office, she had been trying to make me change my mind on going to Silhouette. She’s not having much luck and her frustration was beginning to show. "You've never been on Silhouette before, Ms Turner," she said, her voice crackling. "If you did, you will run for the hills, much less insisting on going there."
I rubbed my forehead; the frustration was getting to me as well. I took a breath and tried to calm myself. I put on a smile and hoped I looked more relaxed than I felt. "I’m no fool, Officer. I love my husband, I’ve been away from him for 3 years, and enough is enough. I know what I’m getting into.”
“No, you do not.” Give her credit; Officer Johnson was nothing if not persistent. “Do you even know the history of Silhouette?”
“Actually I do,” I saw that my smile was infuriating her. I smiled wider. “A convey of colonists whose ships suffered a malfunction crashed onto a then unknown planet. The survivors called the planet Silhouette.”
“Those colonists were Christian zealots.” Officer Johnson took over the story. “Not the popular smile and sing for peace Christians, or even old-school Western Christianity; we are talking about ancient fire and brimstone Christianity here. When those zealots crashed onto the planet, they saw the dark sky and red soil of the planet and truly believed they landed in hell.”
“Calling them zealots…”
“It’s actually right!” Officer Johnson thundered. “When they managed to contact us again, almost 95 years had passed. When Starfleet found out there were survivors, we rushed there but the people didn’t want to leave. That had already built a city and achieved some sort of understanding with the wildlife. Their way of life evolves around their religion that has changed beyond anything seen anywhere else in the Federation. Hell, they even named the planet 'Silhouette' in honour of their new sect, The Church of Shadow.”
“You haven’t told me anything I don’t already know, Officer Johnson.”
“Listen to me! They are allowed a chance to build a society from the ground up without any inference! They did not have Starfleet to keep them in check, they did not have to considered how their actions will be view by the rest of the human race, they did everything their way.” Officer Johnson sat up straighter, “And their way views women as whores, as sinful, as creatures who are not even humans!”
I tried to maintain my smile, but could feel it slipping. "You are being a little overdramatic, Officer"
“No I am not,” Officer Johnson said it with so much authority that for a moment I seriously wondered if she was right, that I was truly making a mistake. “Forget women’s rights, women on Silhouette don’t even have human rights! From the age of 15, all women on Silhouette are subjected to neuron injections. Once the neurons are in, the women are completely under the control of their Viewer.”
“Neuron injections are hardly illegal, Officer Johnson. We use it in our prisons for…”
“My point is that they are more than that Ms Turner,” Officer Johnson then went on in a speech that sounded rehearsed. “Here in civilization, when we placed the neurons inside a prisoner, the Viewer in charge of the prisoner can monitor the prisoner remotely. He can even send a one-word message straight to the prisoner to give instructions. In Silhouette, it is more than that.” The officer stopped for a moment. When she saw that I refused to be baited, she continued. “Somehow the men there discovered a way to expand on the neurons. They can literally control the brain of their woman. We’re not sure how they do it, but they actually can send messages that affect the brains of their women. Pain, pleasure, any basic emotion; all can be ‘manufactured’ by these new neutrons they developed. It’s a way of mind control.”
“I have no wish to join the church, Officer Johnson.”
“It doesn’t matter.” This surprised me. “I have seen hard-nosed female drill-sergeants entering that planet and come out as doormats. There’s something in the air there, Ms Turner, and whether you want to or not, if you live on Silhouette you will be changed.”
Roy led me along the pony track as we made our way to the clubhouse. The clubhouse was situated near the church and Roy told me before that this wasn’t by accident. It was designed from the start that after Sunday service, men could easily bring their women for their weekly exercise. The pony track started at the clubhouse and weaved its way through several neighbourhoods before coming back to the clubhouse.
There were actually three other clubhouses along the route. These clubhouses served the other neighbourhoods that also used the same track, so it wasn’t a surprise when I heard a cart coming behind us. I wanted to look, but not having permission from Roy I kept my eyes to the ground. However, Roy knew me well and the order came in my head. “Look”
I looked behind and stared the passing cart. The woman was in a full bodysuit, with knee high boots and a head harness. In keeping in the style of Silhouette, the lower half of her face was covered with a mask. The top half of the harness totally covered the head with only a hole at the top for the woman’s red hair to come out from. Two large buckles near the ears served as the anchors for the reins. It was quite a sight seeing a redhead with her hair flowing behind her, pulling her master in a pony-cart. I must say I was a little jealous at her beautiful form.
Galloping at a high speed, they were soon upon us. Only at this point did I look at the man driving the cart. The man was in a full-length coat with one hand holding the reins while the other hand was holding a whip. The man must be a lover of the Victorian times; he was even wearing a bowler hat! The man saw us looking and tipped his hat as he went past. Roy nodded his head in polite greeting while I respectfully looked at the ground in reply.
I looked back up after they had passed us. The man was driving a hard pace and I must have been staring at them for a while because Roy tugged on the leash. Immediately embarrassed at my envy, I looked at the ground again. Envy is a sin, and I had just committed it. It would be in my confession later tonight and Roy would decide on my appropriate punishment.
The clubhouse was just a small hut where the drivers can sign in with their DNA signature. Naturally, this means the men. There are several designs of pony attire for the drivers to choose from and, as I had expected, Roy picked his favourite. Taking the attire he led me to the changing room nearby. The leash was unhooked, the attire was given to me and I stepped into the room.
I took off my habit in a hurry. Wearing the habit everyday made this a simple task, but wearing Roy’s favourite pony-girl attire was something else. I started with the corset. It looked like a round metal tube at first, but I shuddered at the sight of it. Taking a deep breath, I stepped into the harmless-looking round metal tube and lifted it to waist level. Making sure the area for my breast was in the front, I pressed the button to activate the corset. The corset started to shrink in size. Soon it was hugging my body, and then it got smaller. It shrank to the programmed 20-inch waist Roy wanted. I took some time to get used to the corset, cursing the wonders of technology.
When people buy clothes nowadays, they buy one that is about their size. With a press of a discreet button somehow the clothes shrink to fit the wearer. They call this “liquid clothing technology” but I prefer to call it “liquid torture technology” because on Silhouette they took things a step further. Roy had informed the crew at the clubhouse about the size he wanted and they had programmed it into the corset. The corset is designed to get to the designated size without consideration to the comfort of the wearer. So now my 22-inch waist was in a 20-inch corset, and there was nothing I could do about it.
With no choice in the matter, I put on the rest of my pony-girl outfit. The hot-pants were cut scandalously short, the boots were knee-high, and the collar was heavy with a ring in front to act as my Eve’s apple. The last part of the outfit was my head harness. It was actually more like a soft helmet than a harness. Putting it over my head, a strap cut across my forehead. Using that as a base, a big strip of leather went across the top of my head to another strap that cut across the back of my skull. Three big pink feathers rose out from the big strip of leather. I arranged it so that the feathers would be place directly on top of my head. When it was in place, I pulled the lower mask across my face and strapped it on.
I looked at the mirror to check myself out. The harness covered my lower face, my corset covered my body from my breast to my waist, and my hot-pants barely covered my buttocks. That was all that was covered and to say that I was showing a lot of skin was an understatement. The Church of Shadow only recognises two roles for women: the Maiden and the Whore. As a Maiden, women wore the nun habit as a show of purity, chastity and obedience. As a Whore, there was clothing like this pony-girl outfit.
As I stood looking into the mirror, I couldn’t help but wonder who this woman in the mirror was. When I first met Roy, I was the chief finance officer of an inter-stellar company while he was a space shuttle technician. I was traveling to Mars and he was the technician on the shuttle. A low cost shuttle, space was tight and we met. It was just a bad match. I was 1.9m tall with blond hair and bright green eyes whereas Roy tops at 1.65m and was kind of plump. I even briefly flirted with the idea of being a model during my teenage years. Now I was a faceless woman who was led through the street by a leash and who would soon be pulling her man on a cart like an animal. How did I end up like this? A wave of self-pity came over me and tears came to my eyes. “Hurry” The order came in my head as I remembered that Roy was still waiting for me. My husband, lord and master, was waiting while I was asking myself stupid questions. I couldn’t believe what a stupid bitch whore I was.
I quickly folded my habit neatly and came out of the changing room. For once I was glad of Roy’s orders that I was to be always barefoot; wearing boots would have cost me even more time. I kept my eyes down on the ground and offered my habit to R, my lord and master. I could almost feel the questioning look on my master’s face and I resolved to be even more obedient than usual. The leash was hooked on my Eve’s apple and my master led me back to the clubhouse.
After checking in my habit at the clubhouse he led me to our cart. As I was the only one pulling, Roy only rented a small one. It was a two-wheel cart with two long poles extending in front of it, and a seat with a foldable cover to keep out the rain. It was supposed to be ‘inspired’ by the rickshaws of old colonial days, but I had never saw a real rickshaw before so I can’t make any comparison. I stood between the two poles and knelt. Roy hooked me into the cart as various chains were connected between my corset and the poles. These hooked me to the poles and made it easier for me to pull the cart. Roy then hooked another leash to my Eve’s apple. Roy took the two leashes and went to sit on the cart. It wasn’t necessary as the track is one-way but Roy, like most men, enjoyed the illusion of control the leash gave him.
“Up” I stood up as the order came into my head. “Trot” I went into a slow trot as my warm-up began. After about 200 meters, a new order came. “Jog”, I quickened my steps as my trot became a jog. After about 400-600 meters, the order I was waiting for came. “Run”
I put my back into it and launched into a run. As the track was 3 kilometers, I tried to pace myself but it was hard. Like most women in Silhouette, my place was at home. In the house from Monday to Saturday, my time was filled with either housework or prayers. I was only allowed outside the house once a week for the weekly grocery shopping, and even then the time was limited. As such, I found that I looked forward to this weekly run. From my talks with other women during our grocery trips, most of my neighbours felt the same. With cars flying over our head and the wind and rain pouring onto our faces and hair, this was the only time we were free from the shackles of the habit and it was a great feeling.
“Slow” The order came as Roy obviously thought I was going too fast. I slowed only a little. I still wanted to run. It was a mistake.
“Pain” I heard the order in my mind, but this time the order wasn’t for me. It was for my brain. As the order came, my brain responded by sending a shock racing through my body. My steps faltered as my body came on fire. In Silhouette, orders come only once. If the whore does not obey, then punishments must be swift. “Stop” As the order came, the pain subsided. I was grateful it only lasted a few seconds, I had heard of some men punishing their whores by making the pain last for hours. The longest I ever had was about 40 minutes and even then, I couldn’t move for hours afterwards.
“Jog” I went back into a jog as shame rushed over me. Here I was resolving to be more obedient than usual and I went and screwed it up less than 20 minutes later. Without question, I was a stupid whore who deserved to be punished. The rest of the run went without incident. Run, jog, trot, run; I obeyed Roy’s orders without question as we made our way around the track.
As we came back to the clubhouse, Roy signed back in and I changed back to my habit. Then we went back home and my day returned to normal.
Our house was located about 15 minutes from the clubhouse. Like most houses on Silhouette, we have a prayer room inside it. That’s where I was now. On my knees with my head locked to the ground and my ass high in the air.
This is how I usually spend my evenings. From Monday to Saturday, I spend the mornings and afternoons tending to the house, looking after the two children and preparing for the arrival of Roy in the evening. After eating dinner, I would wash up the dishes and then Roy would lock me in the prayer room for my daily prayers. As I knelt there, Roy would take over the duties of looking after the kids in the evenings. The kids looked forward to this as they get to spend time with their dad and can do stuff like watch television and use the Galactic Internet. As I’m not allowed to use or even watch the television, the internet, and even the news screens; the kids spent their time with me reading books, cleaning the house or taking afternoon naps. Not actually the things kids aged 8 and 6 liked to do for leisure.
While the kids were enjoying their evening with their father, I was in the prayer room paving my way to heaven. I had exchanged my habit for more relaxed attire. A neat lace headdress covered my hair, and a loose transparent face-veil was covering the lower part of my face. I wore a loose long-sleeve blouse and a pair of loose comfortable pants. I had also exchange the wimple of the habit for a loose collar.
My Eve’s apple was hooked to the ground with my bowed head facing a hologram picture of Precious Alamgir, the Christ Reborn. It was unthinkable that a woman, a whore, a creature of sin, like myself be allowed to lift my eyes to a picture of the great man, so Roy locked me in tight to the ground. Idle hands do the devil’s work, so my hands were also locked behind me. In my hands was a rosary and I passed the time by reciting my prayers. In front of a picture of the First Father of the Church of Shadow, I could only hope that would be enough to save my soul from damnation.
When I got to my 265th prayer, I heard the door being unlocked. A few small footsteps later, a small hand unlocked me from the ground and I heard the command, “Father wants you, whore.”
As the leash was attached to my Eve’s apple, I asked my six-year old son, “May I may stand, sir, and walk out of the room?”
“Father did not say, so that means no,” Roy Jr. tugged on my leash. “Come on, whore.”
“I hear and obey, sir,” I shuffled on my knees, following my son out of the prayer room. I was careful to keep my head lower than the height of Roy Jr. For some reason I had less problems thinking of Roy Jr. as my master than I did for Roy. I guessed this was due to the fact that I never knew Roy Jr. as anything other than my master.
When Roy and I got married, I was earning more as I had a better paying job. I even ‘asked’ Roy to sign a pre-nup before our wedding. After the marriage, he wasn’t really a househusband but he no longer took any job that required long distance travel. He found a job as a port technician, repairing space shuttles that were in between trips. It paid a lot less but with my high-paying job we didn’t really need the money. The job was to keep Roy busy more than anything else.
All that changed when the economy collapsed. The stock markets of the United Federation of Planets (UFP) had been going upwards for years. As they say, the higher you go, the heavier the fall. The bubble burst and the economy went into another depression. Even though we were doing well, the company I worked for had no chance to survive the bloodbath. Thousands, maybe even tens of thousands, of companies in the UFP were faced with bankruptcies in the aftermath of the stock market crash of 2857 and we were not big or strong enough to survive. Suddenly I was out of a job, and as credit tightened we had problems paying off the mortgages on our house.
There was a severe shortage of jobs for an out-of-work chief finance officer, and Roy’s job became more important to us. As it doesn’t pay much, Roy began sourcing for another job. He found one from a small planet millions of miles from Earth. Nestled on the outskirts of the charted galaxy, Silhouette was an anomaly. It was one of the few planets humans had colonized that was still free of pollution, mostly due to the religious doctrines of the people. More importantly for us, they were willing to double his pay.
Roy said yes and then he was away. For three years we were separated before I finally had enough of sitting on Earth waiting for the economy to turn. That was about ten years ago.
“The whore is here, father,” Roy Jr. announced. As I stopped behind my son, I could fell my leash being handed over to Roy. A tug on my leash and I shuffled over to Roy. Roy told me before that he loved the sight of me on my knees with my head to the ground. I was moving my head to the floor to please him when the order came in my head “Look”.
I lifted my head as ordered but kept my eyes downward as required. A hand came under my chin and I gently let the hand lift my head up. I saw Roy sitting there with a smile on his head. A movement at the side caused me to glance over to my daughter, Rachel. She was dressed similarly to me but without the face-veil. As she was unmarried, an indoor face-veil was a privilege she had yet to earn.
“I hope you have enjoyed your run today.”
“I have, my lord. Thank you for allowing me this joy.”
“I am glad. Do you have any sins to confess today, whore?”
“Yes my lord.”
I started with the usual. “My sins start with my birth because women are whores, creatures of sin. Women are weak with less ability in both mind and body, and my sins are such that I require a man to guide me to my path to salvation.” Once those were out of the way came my failings for the today. “My sins are also for remembering of my times on Earth before I reached the holy planet and received the holy teachings. Today I committed the sin of envy. My envy is to the beauty of the redhead pony-girl that captured my eye today at the track. I thought of obeying you my master in all things but I was unable to hold on to my own promise for more than a few minutes once I started my run.”
“You know the sins you have committed today, whore?”
“Yes my lord.”
“The sin of envy, the sin of remembrance, and the sin of disobedience.”
“That, plus your sin of being a whore, makes it impossible for me not to punish you today.”
“I beg my lord to guide me on my path to salvation. Punish me so that even a whore like myself may one day be saved from damnation.” I could feel tears coming to my eyes as I said this. Part fear, part relief, part acceptance; this was my life on Silhouette. Outside the peace of my prayers and the boredom of housework my days were also filled with the pain of my punishments.
Gently Roy lowered the veil on my face with one hand, this was the only time when my children saw me without a face-veil, with his other hand Roy showed my holy bit to me. Shaped like a man’s penis, Roy put it in front of my mouth. “Take this bit while you suffer, whore. Remember your sins and repent.”
I opened my mouth and took the bit into my mouth like I would a man’s penis. “Kiss the ground whore.” I threw myself at the ground. Laying there on my belly, I felt my legs being shackled. “I take no pleasure in this but I must as your lord and master do this. Lay there and suffer, whore. Repent for your sins.”
And then it begins. The one word that was terror to all women in the Church of Shadow. The thought came into my head, “Pain”.
I whimpered and thrashed but to no avail. My hands and feet were locked useless as fire raged in my body. The neurons in my brain worked their magic as shock after shock raced through my body. Then relief came. “Stop” The neurons stopped the moment the order came. I lay there motionless as the pain in my body slowly subsided. I then felt Roy’s foot pressing my head to the ground.
“You have confessed your sins, whore, and you have received just punishment. With my ears, I hear your sins. With my command, I gave you punishment. With this foot on your face, I, Roy Turner, a lay priest of the Church of Shadow, grant your sins forgiven for today. Be grateful whore, for tomorrow is a new day and the sins of a whore are forever. Be grateful for your purity however short it lasts. Amen.”
With a painful breath I whispered. “Amen”
Roy wasted no time. There was no foreplay, no words spoken, and no commands given. Roy got into bed and just took me. As I had been lying on the bed waiting for my lord and master, this wasn’t that surprising. I opened my legs wide and waited for the order in my head.
“Pleasure” The order came in my head and pleasure flooded my body. Roy entered me without any word and my body’s reaction was immediate. I felt absolute total joy as the neurons filled my body full of endorphins. Emotions can be ‘manufactured’ by the neutrons but it didn’t matter. Who cares if machines manufactured it when it felt like this? I didn’t care because as usual it was my best normal orgasm plus 10. Somehow the Church of Shadow has found a way to make the neurons do this. As a whore, I never knew how but I do not care. The pleasure I felt now made it a fool’s question.
The pleasure I felt now made all the pain, suffering, and humiliation worth it. It was behavior modification taken to the extreme. Officer Johnson was right about one thing; it was a method of mind control. The Church made their whores so happy that its no wonder hard-nosed drill-sergeants became doormats. If Officer Johnson were here, she would do anything she was told just to make sure she could have pleasure like this every night. All she had to do was obey. Which was what every women on Silhouette did. We obey and we got to taste heaven like this.
It lasted minutes but to me it was like hours. I came just as Roy did and as I lay on the bed, I heard Roy’s whisper, “You did well today, whore. Be as obedient tomorrow and I shall give you heaven again.”
He turned away to switch off the lights. As my lord and master lay down to sleep, I lay on the bed feeling heaven leaving me and vowing to do anything to have it back. All I have to do… is to obey.