After a week at Shrevra she was beginning to bitterly regret her hesitation to whip Christy on their first day at the monastery. Since then the girls paths had gone in radically different directions. Christy had quickly become slavishly obedient and had a list of daily tasks that contrasted radically with those set to Zoe. The girls shared a small room with two bunk beds, a narrow barred window, a washstand and a few meagre possessions. Each morning while Zoe had to scrub down the stone steps of the courtyard quadrangle then prepare porridge for the monks, Christy went to the living quarters of the six masters and she washed each master in turn. Each had his own private room with a private shower. So by mid-morning Zoe had got herself hot and sweaty while Christy had got to share six hot showers, in exchange for the hardship of washing the masters who she served. Zoe had asked her if they made any demands on her and was told that she was expected to suck each man until he came. The young American girl grinned and said that it wasn't too much of a hardship.
In the afternoons Zoe was made to work with the rest of the girls cleaning and cooking. The monastery had fifteen girls. Half of these were young Indian girls, each very pretty and the others were from various countries but shared in common the fact that they'd been abducted and sold into slavery. What alarmed Zoe was how obedient they had become. Most had been there for two or three years but even a French girl captured less than a year ago was wholly subservient and made no complaint against her life in the sect. The most recent arrival after Zoe and Christy was another English girl, Mandy, who had been there for a couple of months. Even she seemed practically converted into a docile and obliging creature by the sect's methods of initiation.
So while Zoe worked under the watchful eye of monks or native guards, Christy remained out of sight, serving the masters carnal needs. She quickly became reticent about divulging what she had to do, but Zoe guessed that the Colonel and the masters had quickly found her weak point and had ruthlessly exploited it.
Christy had demonstrated a penchant for inflicting pain and the masters used her to punish disobedient girls. On the other hand, Zoe had been used as a model for what any disobedient girls could expect and she often went to bed, her body smarting from a severe whipping.
As if to signal the favouritism that had been extended to Christy she was given different clothes to wear. Most of the girls were given a standard uniform of a white cotton skirt that barely covered their buttocks and a brightly coloured silk sash that was drawn around their breasts like boob-tubes and left the rest of their chest and stomach exposed. They had no underwear and were made to wear high-heeled shoes that laced with straps up their calves. The attire had been cleverly thought out. The high-heeled shoes were hopeless to walk in except on paved stone, which effectively kept the girls to the monastery. Also, the laces strapped around their calves were so tightly and intricately bound, woven and knotted together it would take ages for the shoes to be removed. The flimsy little cotton skirts were tied with a drawstring that had to be knotted in a bow at the small of the back. Very easy for a monk to quickly undo, should he wish. The colourful sashes that covered the girl's breasts even served another purpose. Any disobedient girl could expect her sash to be removed and used to bind her hands, gag her or blindfold her.
From the first day that she'd been brought to Shrevra, Zoe knew she had to try to escape and as each day slid past this seemed more and more imperative. Quite simply because she wondered how long it might be before she began to accept her fate and became resigned to her life as an obedient slave girl in this isolated fastness devoted to sadism. From what she could persuade the other girls to divulge it seemed that after a few years of living at Shrevra, once girls had become totally subservient to the demands made of them they were sold on, no doubt at a considerable profit. There was without doubt a ready market around the world for bright and beautiful young girls who had been turned into devoted sex slaves.
On one day, Zoe and Mandy had been working in the kitchens when one of the monks had complained that his porridge was cold. Mandy had immediately accepted the blame and promptly one of the kitchen workbenches was cleared of everything from its work surface. Zoe watched in horror and fascination as the girl willingly removed her skirt and climbed onto the bench. She lay face down and spread her legs and arms, clutching the edge of the table with her hands. One of the monks removed the sash from her breasts and ordered her to stretch her arms out above her head. She did as she was told and the monk wrapped the sash around her wrists, drawing her hands together. She was then told to spread her legs and with dismay Zoe watched the girl immediately obey.
Two more of the monks took the long canes with which Zoe was now all too familiar with and proceeded to give her a thorough thrashing. They were experts at telling how much a slave could take and worked the slender rods across her buttocks, taking it in turn to strike from the left and then the right, until her the soft pillows of flesh were bright pink all over, Mandy groaning and twisting against the hands that held her but keeping her legs obediently open. Abruptly one of the monks stopped the beating long enough to dig his fingers between the punished cheeks and delve into her sex. When he withdrew his hand, his fingers glistened with Mandy's juices.
The monks smiled and then resumed the beating. This time one of them resumed the assault on her quivering buttocks while the other cracked the cane across her shoulders and back. Mandy's body continued to writhe and her groans escalated into shrieks. But Zoe sympathised with the girl. She was experiencing real pain but was helpless to stop herself from experiencing real pleasure as well.
'So Mandy, tell me what you feel you have learnt,' the monk demanded when they at last seemed to have decided that she had suffered enough.
The poor girl held down across the bench sniffed back her tears and when she spoke her voice was choked with the conflicting emotions Zoe knew so well.
'I have learnt that I can still be a bad girl and I need to be punished.'
Zoe felt her stomach lurch. These were words that she herself had been made to repeat. One of many mantras the girls were made to recite as part of their training.
'And what else have you learnt?'
'That when you punish me I am glad because you help to teach me how bad I am,' Mandy answered.
'And?'
'And I wish to thank you with all my body.'
'Good girl Mandy. Well done. Now you may show your thanks.'
The monk walked around to the head of the bench.
Zoe knew these words too; she'd been forced to say them repeatedly after her own beatings and dreaded the day when she would say them with complete sincerity. The monk stood before the girl's face, lifted his cassock and stepped closer to her. Zoe watched as the girl eagerly began to lick and suck his displayed cock, which was already hard and soon began to jerk and twitch as her tongue bathed it adoringly with licks and kisses.
'Swallow like a good girl, slave.'
The young girl's lips close around the head of the shaft, the monk gave a contented smile and Zoe watched transfixed as Mandy gulped down his come devotedly.