The Maiden (The Cloister Trilogy 1)

With a deceptively light voice, she says, “You will train with me today.” She continues walking, and I step out of line and follow. Sarah shoots me a worried look, but doesn’t say anything as I file past.

Goosebumps race down my body as the Head Spinner makes a beeline for the large wooden X suspended from the ceiling. The one with the straps.

She stops abruptly, her black skirt swishing forward at her ankles. “Step up.”

I want to turn and run, but there is no way out. I force my body to cooperate, to move forward despite the paralysis of fear. I walk past her and stand in front of the X, then lift my arms.

“Turn around.”

I spin and face the room, the Maidens in various states of training—some with dildos in their mouths, others on all fours with plugs in their asses, still others on top of benches, their legs held in place as Spinners wearing strap-ons fuck them in the mouth. One Spinner demonstrates the differently-sized dildos with a metal ruler, which she also uses to discipline any Maiden who she feels isn’t paying perfect attention.

The Head Spinner reaches up and fastens first my right wrist and then my left, pulling the leather bindings tight. She pauses for a moment to inspect the bruising on my neck, then steps back.

I wiggle my fingers, the circulation already slowing in them. They’ll be numb in a few minutes, and maybe that will be a good thing.

There are leather cuffs for my ankles on the bottom of the X, but she doesn’t fasten them. I breathe a small sigh of relief. If she’d spread my legs and left me completely open, the terror might have overtaken me.

She edges past the X, then reaches for a green industrial-looking button in the nearby wall. Foreboding coats my tongue like a sour taste. A loud mechanical click sounds from above. I look up and see the chain receding through a small hole in the ceiling. The X rises, pulling my arms taut, and cinching the leather even tighter on my wrists.

I struggle, trying to loosen the bindings and ease the ache, but the leather only grips tighter. My back is pressed against the X, a crucifixion before an audience of Maidens and Spinners.

She slows my ascent, just as I go up on my tiptoes, the very last chance I have to keep at least some of my weight on the ground. The machine quiets, and I’m left mostly hanging, my body protesting the strain, my mind yelling at me to focus on something other than the fear, the torture, the smug Head Spinner.

“This is an important lesson, and I’m glad to be the one to teach it.” She eases around me until I can see her again.

The room is silent, all the other training halted.

She raises her hand and presses it to my chest. I can’t get away from her touch. She lets her fingers trail between the valley of my breasts, down my stomach and then lower.

Her eyes glint as she cups my sex. “This is what happens to sluts who disobey the Lord’s commands,” she whispers so low that only I can hear.

I tremble and press my legs together even though it puts more strain on my wrists. She releases her grip and backs away.

“The Prophet demands your obedience.” Her voice rises, the sound piercing every woman in the room. “God demands sacrifice from all his chosen. And if you fail to comport yourselves as the godly women you are meant to be, there are consequences.”

“Amen.” The Spinners in the room form one voice.

“Cloister Maiden Delilah caused the death of a Protector. His blood is on her hands. Because of her whorish Jezebel ways, she has broken the Prophet’s law. Does she deserve punishment?”

“Yes!” the Spinners cry.

“I asked you all, does she deserve punishment!” Her voice is a whip.

The Maidens react, even Sarah crying yes under the harsh gaze of the Head Spinner. Some of the girls look on with expectant, hungry eyes. But others seem locked into their own horror, though I can’t tell if their trepidation is for me or themselves.

“Better.” The Head Spinner walks to the wall of implements and chooses a crop, the handle long and thin, and the end a piece of flattened black leather.

“The book of Isaiah tells us what happens to the wicked among us. ‘I will punish the world for its evil, the wicked for their sins. I will put an end to the arrogance of the haughty.’” She stands in front of me and runs the crop along her palm. “Your arrogance is an affront to the Prophet. You must learn your place. It is at His feet. At the feet of your Protector. At the feet of our mighty Prophet. And at the feet of our Lord.” The fervor rises in her voice. “Here, with your sisters, you will learn to be a model female, one that carries the blessings of God wherever she goes. But first, you must be punished.”