Chapter 19

Two days later...

“Alright, guys, here we are. Home sweet home! Let’s get our precious cargo inside, ASAP! We can’t have them getting away from us! Gotta get ‘em locked in, you know. How is that whole remodeling business going, by the way?” Julian urged his folks as they rushed the captives out to their new cages and cells.

The cells were part of the long-term plan, but the cages were an excellent start. The renovations of the homes in question included dungeons in every one of them, plus shrines, orgy rooms, glory holes, fitness rooms, and a variety of other chambers for a number of purposes. The church was especially designed with such equipment and rooms for similar reasons. It was only a piece of the jigsaw puzzle that was the agenda for the new society, but it was a crucial linchpin in it.

Ordinarily, Julian would object to such cruel and capricious treatment such as his disciples and he meted out to the nuns, but these evil cunts had more than earned it. Years of abuse heaped upon his fellow orphans and he had at last come full circle and the chickens had finally come home to roost. Only one victim remained: Douglas Fletcher. He would have to suffer to atone for his crimes against Julian as well.

Once bound inside their cages, awaiting the completion of the cells, all twenty-four surviving nuns awaited their fate in abject terror. Since there were thirty cages between the houses and the church, the sect had more than enough to keep the sisters confined. Of course, the convent itself had been set ablaze to cover Julian’s tracks, as much evidence removed or destroyed as possible in the process. Nobody wanted any complications after all.

The eldest of the nuns, Sister Monica, aged sixty-three, didn’t look too bad for her age, which wasn’t too shocking for a Sicilian woman from Palermo. She quickly found herself bound to a spreader bar, her cheeks spread apart as far as possible so Julian and his acolytes could penetrate her anally with one toy after another. She was silenced with a ball gag, of course, as they did this to her, just as when they paddled her bottom and struck her with the flogger.

The worst part, though, was when her captors stuck a garden hose to her anus and shot jets of cold water straight up her tush. Her rectal muscles inevitably pushed the water back out of her rump and she shivered as she felt the water on the skin of her buns and thighs. It was far from over for the senior nun, particularly when Julian simply shoved a butt-plug into her ass and flipped a switch on the remote to make her squirm from the vibrations. Her limbs remained stretched as well, having been stuck on the spreader bar for hours now.

Then the tribe simply left Sister Monica on the spreader bar for even longer by herself and went away to do something else. Only when it was her suppertime was the nun released from the device and taken back to her cage to feed her a single bowl of minestrone stew with some saltines just as the others ate. Bottles of water were given to the captives, laced with ground up pharmaceuticals meant to calm them down for the present.

Sister Monica still had a butt-plug buried in her bum when she awoke from her slumber and was dragged out of her cage to use her once again. Her mouth was put up to the glory hole and she was forced to service a series of men with her lips and tongue. Still wearing a butt-plug, the nun repeatedly had her throat used by every man in the congregation. Loads of cum shot down her gullet and she was compelled to swallow them or choke.

Then she was forced to lick pussies and butt-cracks in turn through the glory holes, barely getting any chance to breathe between oral favors. At that point, Sister Monica was seized, blindfolded, and taken to a bench to bend her over and gag her. Her hair was yanked and her butt-plug was removed as a series of strap-on dildos attached to women of the tribe with thigh harnesses. She was sodomized constantly by these ladies with very stingy lube applied to her bottom as they took her that way.

By the time that the men began buggering Sister Monica, she had spaced out and lost all sense of time. It got worse, though, once the women forced her to clean their dildos with her mouth, even if she was as sanitary as they could make her earlier. She could still taste her own asshole on their strap-ons just before the ball gag was placed back into her mouth and she was dragged by her feet to a corner of a basement and showered off with the same garden hose and a bar of soap.