The Church of Silence (F+/F+) [FINISHED 2nd Feb]

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NotSeen
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Post by NotSeen »

Surely, you'll give us a look into what the 'church' will be after the changes come into effect? Right?


Please?
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RopeBunny
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Post by RopeBunny »

[mention]Nainur[/mention] and [mention]NotSeen[/mention] one final chapter to come :D
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Post by RopeBunny »

Epilogue.
Denise.

Winston leaves, the suits following him.

Tasha hasn't wandered far, she's in room four. Having untied one of Michelle's arms and dumped the wand vibrator onto the floor, Winston's daughter is sat in our former keepers lap, her body sideways on to Michelle's, her legs draped over the chair arm. I walk in mid kiss, with Michelle using her now freed hand to grope Tasha's breasts. I feel bad disturbing them, but. "We need to talk."
"Can't it wait?" Coming up for air, grinning at me. "Partner."
"Well." I smile back, if she's happy, happy enough to apparently no longer mind her ropes, and to openly name me that which she'd already- after some persuasion -agreed to let me be, then I should run with it. "Before dinner then." Pointing at her, then me. "We need to discuss one or two things before we see the Sisters."
"Yes," taking a moment, pausing to think, "of course. Denise." Michelle winks, sticks her tongue out. "Come and find me up here, please, at...."

The second siren cuts her off mid sentence.

"Fucks sake." smiling, shaking her head. "What bad timing." I laugh, since it was Michelle who set the sirens up this morning. "Got to feed the troops though."
"And you can't...?"
"Too soon." Shaking my head. "The five of us," gesturing a circle, meant to take in not only Sierra and November in the control room, but Petra too somewhere downstairs, and even Tasha, "will be missed by some as it is."
"We need to talk huh?"
"Yes."
"Right, well." Giving Tasha a final kiss. "Come and untie me then, partner."
"Sure thing." As Tasha hops off, I step forward, and work on removing all Michelle's ropes, being joined by a regagged Tasha before I'm finished. "Oh." The sight of her, the fact she voluntarily locked herself back up when nobody asked her too, and without checking first if she'd ever be ungagged again, causes me a brief shock. Michelle only smiles though. Now untied, she stands, and stepping forwards gives Tasha's breast a stroke as she pulls the young girl close for a hug. Seeing Tasha lean her gagged head on Michelle's shoulder, the way she hugs her back, slipping her own hand inside Michelle's robe to tease at a nipple herself, I can already see the two are a good match. "I'll be up in your rooms."
"Yes." Nodding. "Good plan, Denise." Still said as though she's getting used to the name, getting used to my not being just another Sister. "I'll be up shortly, to talk."
"Right." I nod as Michelle and Tasha leave.

Before heading to Michelle's rooms though I stop off next door, to give Sierra and November instructions. There are things I need both of them, and Petra, to take care of before third siren, not least of which is to escort Winston and his team off the property. To lock up behind them as it were.

Neither Michelle's phone, or her small laptop, which I find sat open on the table by the large window in the lounge,
are locked. I already knew I'd have easy access to the phone, but the laptop is a bonus. I get to work, all the while eating a pack of cheese and onion crisps I find in a kitchen cupboard, washing them down with sips of cool tap water.

"Do you know, mystery caller," I grin at the familiar voice, the eternally semi amused tone, "you're very lucky that I'm a night owl."
"Only because you'd rather watch Nascar reruns then climb into bed with that pretty young wife of yours."
"Fuck me," the pause is brief, but I can hear the shock, "Denny." And now I can hear the grin. "Is that really you?"
"Evening Bob." I'm grinning too. "How's life?"

Bob, to his friends. Robert Chalveston to everyone else. An American. A Texan to be more specific, and very likely the richest man I know. To demonstrate: because Bob loves Nascar so much, he not only bought a team, he bought the local track too. He's that rich. Bob's the only one who ever calls me Denny. He likes to refer to me as 'kid' too, despite only being around fifteen years my senior.

"Can't complain kid," pausing to take a bite of something, pizza if I had to guess, "been missing you and that magic touch." He drops his voice, as though afraid of being overheard. "Word was you'd taken a plunge?"
"I did." Grimacing. "Flew too close to the sun Bob," shaking my head, "paid the price I guess."
"Shit kid," taking a drink, "figured it had to be true for you to just vanish on me like that."
"Sorry Bob." I mean it too. "I'm back now though."
"For real?"
"For real."
"And you decided to call your old friend Bob straight away huh?"
"That's right." I take a breath. "Thought maybe you could front me some funds."
"Sure." He takes another drink. "Nobody ever made me rich the way you do Denny."
"Thanks Bob." Touched by his faith in me, despite my fall, the details of which he may know but is too much of a gentleman to either point out or ask after if he doesn't. "I could use your help with an account."
"Sure."
"Only if you...."
"Sure." I'd forgotten just how easy going he can be, for his true friends anyway. At this point I could, maybe, ask him for a nuclear bomb and he'd agree. I grin. "Thanks Bob."
"Don't mention it kid." A pause. "Still got the same email?"
"Yes." It was the first thing I'd checked on Michelle's laptop, about a thousand spam and unwanted messages all piled up, but still there. "The private one anyway."
"Rainbow money maker," he laughs, I do too. "Ten minutes Denny. Okay?"
"Sure." He laughs again, then hangs up.

"If you're this rich," Michelle, sat next to me on the sofa- which quite on top of everything highlights how far we've come -peers at the laptop screen, "then why did I find you living in such a shitty flat?"
"Drugs." Sitting back, leaning against the plump cushions behind me, taking a sip of water. "I used to work with stocks, but." Shrugging, condensing my life story down as much because I'm getting bored of telling it, or having to remember it. "Drugs came and fucked my life up."
"Shit." Shaking her head, looking at my paperwork fanned out on the table beside the laptop. "And that's, what?"
"That," smiling, "is my license to trade again."
"And that's what all that earlier was about?"
"In part." Nodding. "This place," I gesture, "you've. Helped me. And I intend to repay the favour. But...."
"But you don't want to be mine anymore?"
"I don't." Shaking my head. "Sorry."
"Don't be." Michelle smiles. "Always knew it was thin ice, trying to keep you all as my...." She thinks, shrugs. "Well, whatever you were. I knew eventually it would all fall apart."
"So," I've got to ask, though I'm not sure I really care, "are you mad? At me?"
"Not if you're going to help me." A grin. "No Denise." Shaking her head. "If not you then someone else. And, whilst I'm not sure your methods were strictly above board," she laughs, "they did the trick I suppose."
"Just worked with what I had." I smile, wink. "And besides, looked like you weren't too mad at being bound and gagged at times."
"It did have some bonuses." Nodding. "But, anyway." Pointing. "Explain to me what you're doing with ten million US, and how that's going to help us moving forwards?"
"Us?" But teasing. "Is it us now huh?"
"Isn't it?" Teasing back, despite the slight uncertainty I can hear in her voice. "Are we not partners now?"
"Sure we are," I grin, "unless you want to be the one gagged, and I'll be in charge?"
"Think I'll pass." A smile though, so maybe she really did in part enjoy the ropes. "This time anyway."
"Fair enough." Nodding, smiling as she smiles back, all jokes and friends now, I tap at the laptops keys, opening some new windows. "Look." Pointing, Michelle leans in closer, still dressed in her bathrobe, the front of which is hanging open to show off her perfect rounded breasts- though still being naked I can't exactly call her out on it -and puts her arm around me. "This is what needs to happen next."

It's actually kind of funny to see so many confused expressions on so many gagged faces. The remaining thirteen Sisters, those I didn't involve in my little coup, are sat at two tables, each one looking from the third table to what's been placed in front of them, and then back. I've had November and Petra spend the afternoon making a proper meal for everyone. Nothing fancy, since everyone but Michelle's pallette and stomach are so used to soup that anything too heavy might not stay down. In the end they've gone for roast chicken with little round yorkshire puddings and sweetcorn, all covered in gravy. The smell alone is making my mouth water. At the third table Michelle and me are sat side by side, her in the bathrobe me naked, but ungagged. Beside Michelle sits Tasha, gagged. With the other seats taken by my three fellow co conspirators, none of whom are gagged, none of whom, Tasha included, have clothes on. Sierra's spent the afternoon up in the control room, taking the website offline.

"Sisters." Michelle- we both agreed it will be better at first coming from her, though she knows I'm primed and ready to back her up, verbally or otherwise, should she need it -stands. "I've no doubt you've all seen some strange things today. Let me say, at this point, that all will be explained. For now though, I'll be removing your gags. Your whole gags." She smiles as a half dozen gasps sound around the room. "Please, ladies." I wonder, as I listen, how many of them are paying enough attention to spot the subtle name change. "Eat first, and then Denise," gesturing to me, "and myself, will explain to you what's happening to the Church moving forwards."

There's a quiet murmur of conversation throughout the meal, alongside plenty of both interested, and nervous, glances cast Michelle's way. For my part I stay quiet, and enjoy my food. I love roast chicken. "You haven't told me what's happening yet?" Petra, sat beside me, leans in to whisper. "Care to spill now?"
"Easier I just tell everyone at the same time." I smile sweetly, being difficult on purpose. "Not even a hint?" Reaching under the table to stroke just above my pussy. "Well?"
"That's cheating," squirming slightly, trying not to giggle, "and not a fair tactic at all."
"But is it working?" Teasing, dropping her hand lower, finding my sweet spot already damp. "Or should I take a more direct approach?"
"You'll," I cough to cover up a sigh, Petra spots it and grins, "have to wait."
"Are you su...."
"If you two are quite finished fingering each other," Michelle interrupts, smiling as she leans over, "then I think it's time."
"Right." Coughing again, blushing as Petra removes her finger, making a show of sticking it in her mouth. "Me or you?" I ask. "You this time," a shrug, a pat on my shoulder which makes Petra raise her eyebrows in surprise, "I don't understand all the figures well enough."
"Okay then." Nodding, giving Petra a kiss on the cheek, an act which causes several gasps, and some chuckles, from the other tables, I stand. "Ladies." Feeling everyone's eyes on me, all of them waiting to see just what I have to say. "Listen carefully, please." I smile out at them. "And I'll explain your options."

More of them choose to stay then I'd expected. Was Michelle's Church, her method of stipping and gagging us, denying our freedoms to the point we spent every night chained up like slaves, this successful, I ponder. Apparently so, since not even my offered incentive is enough to persuade five of the ladies, or prehaps they- the five -should be called Sisters again, to leave. By the end of my speech all five have willingly strapped, an act which automatically locks, their gags back on, each then rising, and with a nod to Michelle, leaving the dining hall.

For the remaining ladies though, November included, I move around the room, Michelle's laptop in hand, seeing to each in turn.

For each lady I open an account, online, at the bank of thier choice. Into this account I deposit two hundred thousand pounds. Enough to start again, to at least rent and live comfortably for several years, without the need to work, whilst each decides just what they want to do with themselves now. I feel the Church owes them this, and having tied my future to Michelle's I'm happy to use some of Bob's start up cash to help. Half of what he sent to me I'll invest, using my old skills to provide a decent return on his investment and willingness to help me above and beyond what any normal client would be required to do. The other half is for me, call it my salary if you will, and I have plans for the part I haven't just gifted to the ladies we've freed.

Raiding the mansions clothing room, all of them bundle into waiting taxi's, and are gone.

Over the coming months Michelle and I make many changes, always together, always as a team now.

Sierra, who chose to remain yet is no longer gagged, mostly anyway, moves into the largest campervan I could find. Without being silly anyway. I'm not even sure she has a licence, but a camper is what she wanted. It's parked outside the mansion, in one corner of the large circular turnaround area. It's thanks to her that the website, still called 'The Church of Silence', is now prehaps the poshest most flashy porn site on the whole Internet. Having refused any offer of payment, excluding the mobile house she can't drive of course, she spends her days wandering the estate, tinkering with the website, or locked away in said wheeled house playing a variety of online games.

Petra lives with me, in a small house with large rooms we had built on the shore of the estates lake, complete with a good sized veranda out over the water on stilts. I split my time between Michelle's mansion and my lake house, where in the latter I work at making money. Having recouped Bob's investment, and then some, word of my return reached the ears of others. I now manage a fair sized portfolio of investors. Petra, it turns out, is a very good cook. That's become her principal job, making twice daily meals for us all in the mansions renovated kitchen, because some of my money went on repairing and replacing those parts of the big house that needed it most.

The five remaining Sisters are still here. We, unsuccessfully, tried to get them sleeping unchained, but every morning for a week they'd all managed to secure at least half their limbs. Now they sleep one to a room. The bed, only one per room needed now, has been pushed into the centre, meaning each girls four limbs can be secured still using half the eight existing chains. Once locked in and cranked tight each girl is spread out in an X shape, naked and gagged, and each one sleeps soundly in this state. This I know because I've checked in on them. Why are they still here? I can't say. During the day they clean, no longer given a rota they simply do what they see needs doing, or, if someone- Michelle or me -tells them to, then whatever chore we deem necessary gets done. Every day, for lunch and dinner, the whole gag is removed, allowing them to sit down to proper food. Which they largely do in silence, interrupted only by the occasional murmured word or half smile. Everyday at dinner I make sure I'm there, sat with my laptop beside me, a clearly telegraphed offer that, should they wish, any one of them can leave. But none ever do, having eaten the gags are replaced, and, with a nod to Michelle, or to me if she's absent, out the door they go. In silence.

Aside from whatever individual jobs or tasks we each might have, we all: me, Petra, Sierra, Michelle and Tasha, and the five Sisters. Each of us takes our turn up in rooms one to four. Even Michelle gets tied, though for her it's a rarity. The website is doing well, making Michelle enough money that she no longer needs handouts from me. There's a steady trickle of requests, even the occssional one complex or long enough to warrant a four figure fee. We've even, just this last week, had two tentative enquiries from big name American bondage stars interested in doing content for the site.

Michelle and Tasha are now as much a couple as Petra and me, living together up in Michelle's converted attic rooms. Tasha, when I do happen to see her, is always naked. But then mostly we all are. We all seem to of fallen out of the habit of clothes, only wearing them when necessary: such as pulling on a white tee whenever I need to video call a client, or shrugging on a long coat to walk from one of our houses to the other on a cold day. When I do have to wear something though it always feels restrictive, claustrophobic even, and I can see my scowl echoed on the others faces whenever they too must cover up. Only Michelle covers up all the time, except those rare visits to get tied up anyway.

There are times I wonder whether Michelle misses the old ways, whether a part of her doesn't still desire us all gagged and hers. Like we were before I came and dismantled her Church. Does she, despite her assurances that day, hate me at times I find myself thinking? More then once I've caught her smiling at me, a secret kind of smile that ghosts off her pretty face as soon as she sees me watching. And, though when I talked to either of them afterwards both either dismissed it as 'just a bit of fun' or simply smiled, for a whole week not so long ago whenever I saw Tasha she was once again locked into one of the special gags, and had her wrists cuffed behind her too.

These thoughts come to me whenever it's my turn up in the four rooms. Petra and I have only been tied up at the same time twice so far, but, on both occasions I was struck by how easy it'd be for Michelle to stage a coup agaisnt my coup at that point. As helpless as my girlfriend and me were, both tied and gagged, neither one of us able to get free without outside help, how hard would it be for Michelle to simply lock a gag back onto my face. How hard to cuff my wrists, and my ankles, to keep me in bondage until I submit once again to her rule. Petra too would break eventually. I think these thoughts, and I remember that secret smile, and I shiver, wondering if today will be the day, or if I'm simply imagining it all.

Prehaps worst of all though, something I'd never openly share. There still exists a small part of me that, like the remaining five, wants to submit. Somewhere buried deep in the pit of me is the knowledge that, were Michelle to reclaim me, I can't even say for sure whether I'd fight back, or lay down on the bed and allow her to chain me up once again. Except this time I doubt I'd find a way out of her Church.
NotSeen
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Post by NotSeen »

A fitting - and a bit surprising (I had envisioned Denise wanting to be a bit more... vindictive, but that's just me) - conclusion to a very good story. Thank you.
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Nainur
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Post by Nainur »

I like happy endings, first of all, and I'll call this one so.

Awesome. Just awesome. Splendidly done, one of the best I have ever read!
Truly, a long journey, but a good one and 'a rich friend out of the box' to kick-start the future is just nice. Why not, eh?
Cleaned of drugs why should she not do well again and letbygones be bygones?
May they live happily ever after!!!!
Five stars!
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RopeBunny
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Post by RopeBunny »

[mention]Nainur[/mention] thank you, for this and every comment. It helped to have you along for the journey, seeing you following each step.

And [mention]NotSeen[/mention] this is (roughly) the forth ending I had planned out for the story. At one time Denise was indeed going to install herself as the new Michelle, with Petra as bodyguard/number two. At some stage this morphed into Michelle rising back up to retake what was taken from her, most likely over several extra chapters. The shades of this possibility are even included in the final paragraphs of what I eventually settled on for an ending.
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Post by tickletied84 »

Wonderful (and happy!) ending to a great story. Bravo again [mention]RopeBunny[/mention] :D
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Risperdaltied
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Post by Risperdaltied »

Excellent story and a fitting ending!

Another gem.

Thank you for continuing to produce such quality work
Bikinis + bondage = perfect combination
Feel free to PM for RP - to be tied or to tie...
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