Atonement Chapter 7
I drove through the thickening twilight towards Elkins. The pain had subsided a
bit, but it would be days before I could sit comfortably. That old admonishment,
"you won't sit for a week!" resonated in my memory. I had had a "right smart ass
whuppin'" as they say in W. Virginia. But I had bigger problems than the state
of my tender backside. I still did not know exactly where Libby Mason was, and I
had to waste time trying to help the girls.
I was able to convince my friend the judge to issue the Habeus writ. The next
day found me back in Goshen presenting the writ to the sheriff. It was timely.
They were scheduled to be whipped again that day at 3pm. If they had scheduled
it in the morning, I would have been too late. I could visualize Lori, the
"executioner" warming up her arm, swishing the martinet with those thickly
muscled shoulders, and the girls, their eyes wide with fear, bound to the frame,
their tender behinds stuck out, bare and vulnerable. This time I really could
sympathize since my own backside was welted and sore.
By this time, though, the girls' parents had arrived and were hard at work on
their own to secure their release. The combination of the federal writ and
pressure brought to bear by angry parents was too much for prosecutor in
Pendleton County and the remaining sentence was suspended.
So now what? I needed help in the form of intelligence into the workings of the
Revelation Church of Atonement . Then an idea came to me. There was a guy I knew
in DC, William Wolfe. Bill and I had gone to school together. After undergrad,
Bill had gone into the service where he had made his way into Naval
intelligence. From there he was recruited by the CIA, but had left after a few
years to form his own security firm in the DC area. We had talked over the
years, and I had once extricated his teen-age daughter from a nasty situation
involving underage drinking and vandalism. She had said she was only along for
the ride. I believed her. She's a nice kid.
Bill was happy to hear from me. And there was another surprise.
"Rollin, I can't believe the timing on this. We are working for a company whose
CEO has a daughter who has joined this Church of Atonement, and he's very
concerned. His name is Dave Kraft and he believes his daughter Elaine has been
brainwashed. At his request we have started an investigation. Come on up and
meet with us and we'll share information."
Bill had an office in Tyson's Corners. The name of the firm was JLO Security.
"So what does JLO stand for?" We were sitting in Bill's office catching up with
each other.
"Not a damn thing," said Bill. "When Kim was little she went through a phase
when all she would eat was Jello. I guess that memory stuck with me. How have
you managed to stay unwed?" He asked, changing the subject.
"Luck. Timing. The ones I wanted got away, and I escaped the ones mom warned me
about." I shifted to the business at hand. "So this church--what do you know
about them?"
"Ah," said Bill, "not much now, but we will soon. Not a whole lot is publicly
known and they have a reputation for silencing detractors. We have someone on
the inside, a woman from our organization. She volunteered to go undercover to
see if she could get a line on our client's daughter."
"Where is she now?"
"She has entered the Church's commune in Goshen--where you were turned away. She
is posing as a novice, eager to go through their program, whatever it is. But
here is the thing--we are using some brand new technology, small wireless fiber
optic lens cameras and audio transducers. She took these in with her and can
hide them all over the commune. They will actually be transmitting data
continuously. So if our client's daughter is there, she will find her."
I was astonished. "How long have you had this stuff?"
"It's brand new in the civilian security market, the spooks have had it for some
time."
"What's this girl's name?"
"Lisa Tallmadge, but under cover she is 'Cathy Riggs'. She came to us from a
police department in Minnesota. A little green, she's only 24--and looks 19, by
the way--but very bright."
"Bill, I don't want to alarm you, but do you have any idea what these people do
in there?"
Bill didn't, so I told him. Everything that Christy Connor had told me.
"Holy shit, Rollin. You are telling me that Lisa is very likely going to get her
ass shellacked several times over."
"There's more." I told him about my run-in with Anna Klochek, and the story of
how I came to make her acquaintance.
"Then we'd better get going. These people are seriously whacked. And that could
be dangerous. That cult mentality lumps the world into two factions--us and the
enemy. I was going to give Lisa a week to get in and get acclimated before we
set up the monitoring station, but now it looks like we need to get going."
"Where is the monitoring station?" I asked.
"Oh, yeah, that's the thing. It has to be within about 400 yards of the subject.
These tiny transmitters run for a long time but they don't have much range. This
is a clandestine op, and we need to be in the field close by. It means
infiltrating the property and setting up in the woods near the commune. We set
up a dish, connect a laptop and start recording."
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The away team was me, Bill, a partner of Bill's named Jim Groves, and a woman
named Wendy Savin. Wendy was an attractive blonde in her 30's, and was the field
link tech and computer expert. She knew her stuff about the equipment and was
pleasant to have around. She smiled a lot and had a dry wisecracking sense of
humor. She wasn't very "outdoorsey" though, and I wondered how the camping out
would go with her. She seemed willing to try though. Jim was the outdoor type.
He would do the climbing and the close-in surveillance. He was an ex SWAT team
cop and a veteran. The field link would transmit via satellite back to JLO.
I called Henry and brought him up to speed. He agreed this needed to be done,
since it seemed to provide a reasonable chance of finding his daughter. Once we
had evidence of what was going on, we might get a court or the police to
intervene. Still this aspect bothered me. There was no evidence of kidnapping.
It appeared to be a religious cult that practiced corporal punishment rituals
out of a sense of guilt. Sounded to me like my old Catholic grade school. The
sex part didn't. We had never had that at Saint Alphonse's. No little eighth
grade beauty had ever been appointed to "comfort" me after a paddywhacking from
Sister Mary Josephine's trusty ruler. But there could be more. The Punishment
Hut didn't sound very consensual and the thing Christy had said about
"initiation" and being a "handmaiden" to a "Confessor" sounded ominous.
I also got in touch with Jane and asked her to find out anything she could about
Corpun and Noah Chrossman and the Revelation Church of Atonement. She promised
to get right on it. "I wouldn't want you to think I was slacking off, boss. I
would just dread the Friday reckoning when you got back if I had no results."
I'll just bet you would, I thought, but I didn't say that.
It had been awhile since I had gone backpacking, but once again I found myself
laboring up a hill through a wooded ravine, keeping out of sight. We had entered
from the opposite side of the property and were on our way up to a ridge which
overlooked the commune from the South. Our plan was to climb trees to situate
the dish antennas which were camoflaged. We set up tents and prepared for a long
stay. There was no telling how long we would have to monitor to get something
useful and didn't know how much of the commune Lisa had been able to cover.
One option she had was the use of fiber optic hand held camera/ mic combination
but this would require her to "spy" from a hidden location, a risky strategy. We
hoped to iron out the details of the operation once we were in contact with
Lisa.
We opened up the link on a Wednesday evening. Lisa had been there since the
previous Monday. She had picked a spot off a trail in the woods to speak with us
directly. Otherwise the only way she could do it was in code in conversation
with others. When we turned on the computer, we saw where the equipment had been
placed. We could toggle between several different inputs and thereby monitor a
number of spots in the compound.
First we had a view of the common area inside Lisa's cabin. Then another scene
showed the open courtyard outside and the ominous pillories. A third camera/mic
combination went into a large room, a day room or classroom, we couldn't tell
which. Yet another view was of a large ampitheater. We hadn't heard of this
before. It was built into a hillside and covered, but was otherwise an open air
structure. At the center was a stage with an upright wooden post on it. The post
had an iron ring at its top. "It looks like a whipping post," marveled Wendy. I
nodded. "Fits what we know so far. It's probably for some big ceremony." Wendy
gaped. "Would they really use that?" She seemed fascinated.
We could see groups of people moving through the field of view of the various
scenes. We could also zoom the cameras to get closer. This was useful,
especially with the ampitheater cam, because it had what appeared to be a major
traffic area or crossroads in its far field of view.
The first thing of note that we saw took place in the "classroom". A group of
men and women entered and sat around in a circle. The women wore plain dark
tunics over white blouses, the tunics hemmed above the knee and white knee
socks. This made them look like Catholic schoolgirls although some were plainly
in their 30's. The men wore dark trousers, crisp white shirts and striped ties.
An older man and woman conducted a session that sounded like group therapy. Lisa
was there, and from time to time she would cast glances at the camera. She
looked nervous.
The facilitators, who referred to themselves as Brother Robert and Sister Marian
were leading a general discussion about the need for atonement when a pretty
girl named Linda spoke up and shared how she had felt bad about drinking in
college, how it had wrecked her grades. She had flunked out and felt like she
had let her parents down. The discussion went around the room with everyone
weighing in about Linda's failings and how they had done similar things. It
looked and sounded like a 12 step meeting. Then the discussion apparently
reached a turning point. "Sister" Marian said, "So Linda, are you prepared now
to atone?" This was the big question. Each one of these participants would be
asked to pick an incident about which they felt especially guilty, share it in
group, have it discussed and dissected, and suggest their own way to pay the
debt and relieve their guilt.
"Y-yes, Sister, I am ready," quavered a nervous Linda.
"How do you hope to atone, Linda?" asked Brother Robert.
"W-well," said Linda, "my friend Emily came home drunk once after a date and her
dad took off his belt and wh-whipped her. She told me about it later. He put her
over the end of her bed the next morning and gave her a hard whipping across her
u-underpants with a thick leather belt."
Addressing the group now Brother Robert asked everyone if that punishment seemed
fair. Some did, but most thought that she should get it bare. After all it was a
long series of infractions, not just one.
"I think, Linda, that it is time for you to experience the cleansing pain of
correction for this sin. Are you prepared, sister?" asked Marian. She said, "I,
uh, g-guess so." She was like a deer in the headlights.
We watched as another surprise unfolded. "Who would be willing to play the part
of Linda's father?" asked Brother Robert.
"I will," said a rather clean cut, serious looking young man in his early 20's.
So they were going to allow a fellow novice to act as disciplinarian--an
interesting touch.
Brother Robert addressed him. "So, Ethan, can you suggest how Linda's father
should have dealt with her, and how you would assume that responsibility?"
Ethan spoke right up. "I think Linda should have a sound whipping--with a
leather strap. I will punish her, brother, for her own good." Heads nodded in
approval, but beneath the formal sanctimonious posturing there was a palpable
sense of excitement at the ritual about to unfold.
Sister Marian spoke to Linda. "Do you accept Ethan's suggestion for your
atonement, Linda?"
Linda blushed and stammered, "I-I do, I guess..."
"Very well," said Brother Robert. "There is a punishment strap hanging from a
nail in the closet, Ethan. You may proceed."
We watched the monitor, transfixed as Ethan retrieved a short leather strap
dangling from a wooden handle. He apparently had decided to put her over his
knee because he sat in an armless chair and motioned for her to approach. Linda
looked very unsure of herself as she reluctantly edged towards Ethan, now seated
with the strap held in his right hand. Gingerly she laid herself across Ethan's
lap. With much ceremony he slowly lifted her skirt revealing a very attractive
bottom clad in white full cut panties. Linda blushed as Ethan admonished her to
hold onto the chair leg crosspieces. He asked her if she was ready and she
stammered a reply indicating assent. Ethan slowly peeled down the white panties
exposing a fully rounded white bottom. The panties came to rest at Linda's knee
hollows. He hefted the strap and announced the sentence, 39 strokes.
It was an astounding sight, an attractive, fully grown woman in a childish
schoolgirl tunic suspended over the lap of a man close to her age, her bare
bottom luridly exposed to the gaze of the dozen or so participants. Ethan raised
his arm and brought the strap down with a sharp thwack! leaving a pink band
right across the lower portion of her hind cheeks. Her twin moons wobbled with
the impact, and she emitted a shocked gasp of pain. Thwack!...Thwack!...Thwack!
The cracks of the strap came through loud and clear on the hidden mike. The
others began to count the strokes, like it was a ritualistic chant.
7...8...9...they intoned as the strap continued to smack the redenning globes of
Linda's fanny. Linda started to squirm. By 20 she was emitting groans of
distress. By lick number 30 she was softly drumming her toes on the floor and
the wriggling had become more pronounced. At the last few strokes her body
arched backward and she tensed up and yelped as if it were all she could do to
hold on and endure the shameful licking. The strap had colored her seat a bright
red which stood out sharply against the whiteness of her lower back and thighs.
Having delivered a very thorough smacking with the short strap, Ethan now gently
lifted Linda and set her back on her feet. Linda's hands went immediately to her
injured nether cheeks and she rubbed her bottom under the skirt which had fallen
back down while shifting from foot to foot in obvious discomfort.
"Congratulations, Sister Linda, you have taken a major step on the path toward
total atonement," stated Brother Robert somewhat formally. "Everyone, let us
rise and embrace our sister."
Everyone stood up and one by one, each gave Linda a hug. Ethan was last. She
approached him shyly but everyone clapped as she hugged her punisher. It seemed
there were no hard feelings. As the meeting drew to a close a smiling Sister
Marian asked Linda if she would like "comfort" from Ethan. She blushed demurely
but accepted with a nod. Hand in hand Linda and Ethan headed for a back room.
We were watching for Lisa's reaction and she turned toward the hidden camera and
gave us a wink as if to say, "Get a load of that!"
There was even more activity later on. The "housemother" was a woman known as
Sister Edith. Sister Edith ran a tight ship. In front of the assembled household
she announced that two of their company had failed to do properly assigned
chores and had snuck off into the woods to avoid work instead. This was a
serious offense. We watched as two of the young men in the group dragged out of
a storage closet an apparatus with a padded top that looked like a half barrel
on legs. Two women, both in their 20's were the culprits. They had long downcast
looks on their faces as they endured a thorough scolding from Sister Edith.
During the scolding we could see their eyes shifting apprehensively toward the
ominous looking barrel apparatus.
When the lecture was over Sister Edith retrieved a sturdy rectangular paddle of
the school/fraternity variety which hung on the wall from a hook. Slapping the
paddle smartly in her palm she pronounced sentence on the two delinquents. They
were sentenced to 10 swats each.
So, one at a time, in full view of the company, each woman lifted her skirts and
bent over the barrel to take her ten licks. Each woman wore nothing but thin
panties under the skirts.
Joanne, a medium height brunette, was first. She leaned across the "barrel" and
lifted her skirt to reveal a plump seat in panties that could not cover all of
it. The lower part of her bottomcheeks bulged out of the leg bands on the side
making her fanny almost bare. Sister Edith took her position, tapped Joanne's
quivering seat a few times with the paddle, then methodically applied 10 hard
smacks to the seat of each woman's panties. The crisp Smack! of the paddle
hitting flesh and a screech of anguish defined each deliberate lick. The paddle
was heavy and caused Joanne's ample fanny to flatten momentarily on impact
before spring back into a fully rounded shape. The deliberate paddling caused
much frantic wriggling and elicited fervent pleas for forgiveness. It was a
serious punishment and Joanne's reaction told us she had been thoroughly
chastised for the indescretion.
A blonde named Anne was next and if anything she reacted more vociferously to
the painful paddling. The steady Splat! Whap! Smack! made Anne wriggle
shamelessly and beg forgiveness between yelps of pain. Twice she leapt up
clutching her bottom and twice she had to be ordered to assume the position once
again and present her bottom for correction. The treatment caused more than a
few tears to flow and we could see the pained expressions afterward as both
punished women rubbed their bottoms trying to ease the sting during the
after-punishment lecture on obedience to the rules.
We watched in amazement. Wendy just shook her head. "Oh my God, what has Lisa
gotten herself into?" We all wondered that.
