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"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 güvenilir bahis 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 güvenilir bahis siteleri 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 iddaa siteleri 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.