The Courier
Copyright 2008 by EC
EC's Erotic Fiction - /~caligula97030/

(warnings: erotic discipline, sex between adults, medical fetish, public nudity)


Chapter 25 – The Equinox

Two days after her release from the Royal Residence, Maria Elena returned to 
her job at the university. There was plenty of work for her because the leaves 
of all the trees on campus had started to turn and already the grass needed 
constant raking. Criminal # 101025 knelt in front of the university gardeners 
and was promptly issued a rake. With no further ceremony she stood up, 
walked to a section of lawn near the campus administration building, and 
began gathering fallen leaves. Her supervisor had told her that would be her 
primary concern for the next month, raking as much as possible during her 
working hours. Once the leaves from their sections were gathered, Maria 
Elena and her co-workers had to dump them into specially-built wagons and 
later move them to an enormous compost pile located next to the university’s 
agriculture department. 

In Danubia it was illegal to burn leaves or any other organic matter. Leaves 
had to be buried back into the soil or transported to collection sites. At the 
height of autumn, many criminals, especially ones who had spent the summer 
working outside, were ordered to help collect and transport leaves and garden 
debris from public parks and also from the yards and gardens of pensioners 
and other people who were able to gather up the leaves, but not strong enough 
to transport them. 

To add to the effort, the Danubian Church handed over many of the people 
performing Public Penance, which that year included Cecilia and Jason. For 
several weeks the couple joined a group of 20 other university students who 
were performing Public Penance. They wandered around the neighborhood 
outside the university with their shovels and wagons, taking away the garden 
debris of older residents and hauling it to the compost pile. The work was 
dirty and hard, but because they were collared servants they had to do what 
they were told.

----------

Cecilia’s transition to performing Public Penance turned out to be 
psychologically difficult. She knew that she had to be extremely careful to 
adhere to correct protocol at all times, because everyone was watching her. 
One important detail that set her apart from hundreds of other people 
performing Public Penance was her dark skin. It was obvious she was not 
Danubian, but she was performing a deeply Danubian ritual. She became the 
focus of much curiosity and people paid much closer attention to her than they 
would have paid to any Danubian under the same circumstances. 

Cecilia was much accustomed to being in charge, but her collar took away that 
perceived authority. In class, for example, she had to get out of her seat and 
kneel whenever she was called upon to answer a question. She had to assume 
the correct posture, which meant getting on her knees, extending her hands out 
in front of her, spreading her legs, and arching her back to completely expose 
her vulva to anyone standing or sitting behind her. By Wednesday afternoon, 
all of her classmates had seen her in the posture of Penance, which meant that 
everyone she knew had seen her vagina and anus fully exposed. She had one 
professor in particular who seemed to delight in her predicament. He called on 
her continuously and instructed her to come to the front of the class before 
kneeling and answering so that everyone could see her. He was strict and 
picky about how she positioned herself and did not let her return to her seat 
until she had assumed the “proper” pose for several minutes.

Cecilia knew that she did not have the right to complain, because the entire 
purpose of Public Penance was to experience humility. Being forced to expose 
herself changed her personality. Much of her self-confidence had vanished 
with her clothing. She dropped her bossy abrasive manner of treating people 
and became more reserved and shy. Jason had told her that eventually her self-
confidence would return, but once it did return it would be a different type of 
confidence and much more profound. During the first few days of wandering 
around the campus in the nude and exposing herself to everyone she knew; 
she didn’t see how that would be possible.

As Cecilia had foreseen, Jason took a leading role in her life. She quietly 
followed him around Danúbikt Móskt, watching him and copying whatever he 
was doing at the moment. She wouldn’t have wanted to admit it, but whenever 
she was not in his presence she felt uneasy, to the point of feeling unprotected 
and afraid. She needed to be with him as much as possible. She had always 
felt that need, ever since she met him, but she had managed to keep that need 
in her subconscious thoughts. With the collar on her neck she no longer could 
hide behind her authoritative position or her abrasive personality to conceal 
her underlying fear of being without her fiancé. She would not be able to live 
without Jason, and for the first time in her life could openly admit that, both to 
him and to herself.

Up until she began performing Penance, Cecilia only had a vague idea about 
what her fiancé did with the Church, since he was not one to push his beliefs 
on her or anyone else. Now that she wore a collar, the Clergy expected her to 
understand why what she was doing was spiritually significant. It turned out 
that Jason knew all about Church teachings and was able to explain them. He 
was well advanced in his theological training, whereas she knew absolutely 
nothing. He had memorized a large portion of the Texts of the Ancients, knew 
the parts of the Judeo-Christian Bible that were relevant to the Danubian 
Church, and could sing Danubian hymns in their original language. She would 
have to rely on him to catch up and not look like a total fool in front of the 
Priestess. One of the first things he had to teach her was correct prayer 
protocol, since she didn’t even know that.

Even though Cecilia was wearing a Penance collar, officially she was 
classified as a criminal. Because she was collared, she had a custodian and an 
owner. Many places in Danúbikt Móskt that previously had been open to her 
now were off-limits. There were clubs and restaurants that she had been able 
to go to with her students or with professors that would no longer welcome 
her. She reluctantly acknowledged that her place in society had changed; that 
there was no point in thinking she could possibly be the same person or lead 
the same life she had led before she visited the Temple.

Cecilia’s feelings about the Socrates Club changed along with how she felt 
about herself. She had been going to the criminals’ hangout throughout the 
entire time she had been in Danubia, but always as a guest of Jason or Kim. 
She could not be a member because she was not collared, thus whenever she 
was there she felt like an intruder. The reason she really went was because the 
club was the only place in Danúbikt Móskt where it was possible for her to 
make love with Jason. 

On Friday afternoon Cecilia Sanchez filled out a membership card to formally 
join the Socrates Club. An assistant manager interviewed her to make sure she 
understood the club’s rules and her own role within Danúbikt Móskt’s 
criminal society. The Socrates Club, which previously had been a place where 
she felt like an intruder, had become a place of refuge, a place where she was 
accepted and where she belonged. 

That night Cecilia took her place at the microphone on the stage of the club. In 
accented Danubian she recited her own life, from her experiences growing up, 
to her studies in Chicago, to her flight to Danubia, and finally her current 
transformation. She concluded with:

“I don’t know if I will be performing Penance for the rest of my life or not. 
Maybe I have a future, or maybe I have nothing ahead of me except the 
endless present, the reality of the collar on my neck, until my soul separates 
from my body. I guess that is something the Creator doesn’t want me to think 
about, so I’ll try not to think about it.”

She looked at her fiancé, took a breath, and continued:

“Now that I am performing Penance, I know that the only thing people will 
see about me is my collar. The collar and my nakedness have become my 
identity to the world. The Creator has forced me to understand that I can’t 
think of myself as a university program director any more. I have to accept 
that my job is not who I am; it’s only what I do. I guess… I suppose… after 
four years of living in Danubia, I still have to figure out who I really am.”

Cecilia left the stage, returned to her table, and cuddled in Jason’s arms.

----------

While Jason and Cecilia were sitting at the table, she couldn’t resist doing 
what she always liked to do, massage his penis and work him into an erection. 
Slowly she rubbed his thighs and gently touched his testicles before circling 
her fingertip around the end of his penis. It did not take much to make him 
hard. As usual, they left the table and slipped out of the main dining area of 
the club through a small door on the back wall. As usual, she led him upstairs 
with her hand firmly gripping his shaft. 

As soon as they were in the room, their normal sex routine changed. Cecilia 
was in a relatively quiet mood, so instead of straddling Jason, she got on her 
elbows and knees on the bed and presented her backside to him. He held off 
on the temptation to enter her right away to concentrate on touching and 
massaging her widely spread bottom. He gently touched her vulva and teased 
her clitoris, making her desperate. She arched her back even more, frantic for 
him to enter her. He continued rubbing her bottom and teasing her, but made 
no move to actually push inside. He was desperate himself, but he held back 
because Cecilia needed to be taught a lesson. She was collared, and thus not in 
a position to give him orders.

“Oh Jason… Oh please… Shah.”

He surprised her by saying: “You need to wait. Don’t be so impatient about 
everything.”

Finally he did decide to push inside her, not because she was desperate, but 
because he could not hold off any longer. As he thrust and she moaned with 
pleasure, he silently berated himself for not having more control over his own 
body. He pushed into her as hard and as deeply as he could, climaxing, but 
staying inside as long as he could to make sure she had the orgasm she wanted. 
After they were finished he would have a big surprise for her.

Exhausted, they cuddled for a bit. Cecilia dried off her lover’s penis and 
began to play with it. She normally would have started telling him what a 
naughty boy he was and that he needed a good spanking, but that night he did 
not give her the chance to start up with that. He sat up and moved to the edge 
of the bed. He grabbed her wrist.

“You need to get over my lap.”

“What?”

“You’re collared, Cecilia. That means some things in our lives are gonna have 
to change, and that includes what we do in here. Now, I’m telling you again, 
you need to get over my lap.”

Reluctantly Cecilia obeyed, moving across Jason’s lap. With his fingertips he 
pushed her legs apart and made her position herself so that her bottom was 
tilted upwards and properly presented. He began massaging her bottom-
cheeks. When she started to respond, he reached between her legs and gently 
touched her vulva. She was becoming aroused again. Abruptly he stopped.

“We need to get something straight. As long as you have that collar on, I am 
the one who’ll decide when you cum. I will decide when I think you deserve 
to have an orgasm. You need to turn that part of your life over to me. If you 
really need it, it’s OK to ask, but don’t expect me to always say ‘yes’. Do you 
understand?”

Shocked by her fiancé’s sudden transformation, Cecilia silently nodded. Jason 
landed a sharp slap on her bottom. She squealed.

“Look, how many times have you told me that nodding is rude? You’ve 
always told me to say ‘yes, Cecilia’ and ‘no, Cecilia’. Now it’s my turn. I 
expect the same standard of behavior out of you that you expect out of me.”

He landed a second hard slap on her bottom.

“Do you understand?”

“I… yes… yes, Jason.”

“There’s another thing. I’ve given this some thought, and I’ve had to make 
another decision about things between us. As long as you wear that collar, you 
can’t spank me. I’m the one who will have to spank. You have to agree to that, 
because you need to understand that humility is not just for when you’re out 
on the street. Your collar requires that you exercise humility with me too.”

Cecilia thought for a second, still terrified at what was happening.

“Jason, please… can I sit up so we can talk about this?”

“No, not right now. I’ll tell you when you can sit up.”

“But… you’re collared too. You don’t have no right to tell me…”

“Yes, I’m collared, and I’ve been collared for four years. That means I have 
four years of training over you. Do you really think you know more than me?”

“I guess not…”

“I guess not also. This is something you’ll have to do. I know that for a fact. 
You have to do it.”

Still shocked by Jason’s authoritative voice and his certainty that he knew 
what he was doing, Cecilia said nothing more. She lay quietly, waiting for 
whatever it was that he was going to do to her.

He could feel her trembling slightly. She was scared, not only of the painful 
experience she knew she was about to endure, but also because the last 
remnant of her authoritative façade had been surrendered along with her 
clothing. They had changed places, because only a week before it had been 
Jason lying across Cecilia’s lap. She was vulnerable, realizing that her only 
choice was to obey Jason. Obeying him had never been her intention, and yet, 
that was what she would have to do.

He massaged her bottom, relishing the feel of her soft, warm, dark skin. 
Finally he rested his hand on her right bottom-cheek.

“I love you. You’re the only woman I’ll ever love.”

“I’m yours, Jason… I’ll prove it…”

There was nothing more either needed to say. Cecilia would have to feel what 
it was to be spanked… not spanked erotically, but to be spanked severely, to 
the point of tears and beyond. 

Jason started with moderate slaps, hitting her on alternate bottom cheeks. He 
was in no hurry, so he let several seconds go by between each slap. He 
sensuously massaged her bottom between slaps and occasionally touched 
between her legs to tease her vulva. He was strict about her staying still and 
quiet. If she moved or tried to put her legs together he gave her a warning 
pinch on her labia.

Nothing more was said, but Jason paused after he had spanked Cecilia for 
about 15 minutes. Her bottom stung, but not too badly. In fact it felt hot, and 
had Jason wanted to, he could have easily aroused his fiancé. However, 
arousal was not the reason he had Cecilia over his lap. In the interim while he 
allowed her to rest, she knew that what she had just endured was only a warm-
up. Within a few minutes Jason would be slapping her hard. She was 
desperate to have the waiting come to an end, but also desperately scared of 
what was about to happen.

Jason positioned her with his fingertips and massaged her bottom one final 
time. Then he slapped her with real force. She squealed, but dared not move. 

SLAP-SLAP!... SLAP-SLAP!... SLAP-SLAP!... 

Jason was spanking Cecilia with quick double-slaps, one on each side of her 
bottom. She knew that he worked out and continued to be an excellent runner, 
but she did not realize how strong he was until she felt his hand on her bottom: 
over and over, with no hint that the punishment would end any time soon. 

Finally she was able to surrender herself and cry. Through the haze of her pain, 
she vaguely hoped that her fiancé would stop as soon as tears started falling, 
but the spanking continued uninterrupted. Once her body was heaving with 
sobs, Jason slowed down, but struck her with a hard slap about every 15 
seconds.

Cecilia was crying uncontrollably when Jason finally stopped. He placed a 
reassuring hand on her back and gently rubbed her sore bottom. Finally he 
told her to stand up and to lie on the bed. He gently stroked her back while she 
cried herself to sleep. In a quiet voice he said something to her, although 
because she was asleep she couldn’t hear him. He really was saying to himself:

“You’re mine, Cecilia. You’ll prove yourself to me, just like I had to do for 
you. That is our Path in Life, for both of us.” 

He kissed her swollen bottom and lay beside her to go to sleep.

----------

By the third week of September, signs of the impending change of seasons 
dominated the Danubian landscape. Already the trees were turning color, the 
nights were becoming longer and colder, school children were settling into 
their routines, and the countryside was busy with the first part of the harvest. 
The Fall Equinox was rapidly approaching, which meant the nation was 
beginning its descent into the darkness and cold of winter. Along with the Fall 
Equinox would be the most important religious holiday of the Danubian 
calendar, the Day of the Dead.

Cecilia spent several days teaching Maria Elena about preparing for the 
ceremonies. The most important part of the preparation was special food. 
Blood-red fruit punch and blood-red sauce had to be prepared, along with 
black noodles and potato pastries shaped like skulls. The food was unique for 
the Equinox, because protocol prohibited any recipes eaten during the Day of 
the Dead from being eaten at any other time of the year. Also, any prepared 
dishes eaten during the Day of the Dead could not be purchased for money; 
therefore each household was responsible for preparing its own food.

Four years before, Victor’s wife and Tiffany had taught Cecilia how to 
prepare the Day of the Dead dishes; now it was Cecilia’s turn to teach Maria 
Elena. She invited Carmen and several other students from the exchange 
program who were performing Penance, so for several days Victor’s kitchen 
was full of naked women learning first hand about the most Danubian 
tradition of all.

When Carmen noted that the pots of blood-red juice and sauce looked like 
something from a horror movie, Cecilia commented:

“This is only the beginning. We’re all gonna be marching this year, and when 
we do, you’ll really get to have the death experience.”

----------

On the morning before the Equinox, the women packaged up the food they 
had prepared to take it to the Church that was located on the university 
campus. They had not prepared the food for themselves, but for the Church to 
distribute to marchers and worshipers over the next two nights. Because 
Cecilia, Maria Elena, and Victor all were collared, no adults in the household 
would remain to have dinner. Pedro would have to spend the holiday with 
Spokeswoman Kimberly Lee-Dolkivna, who also had to take care of the sons 
of Vladik Dukov and his wife Tiffany.

The women were joined by the other students from the group of 13 who had 
taken collars to protest Maria Elena’s trial, along with Victor, Jason, Kim’s 
sister Cynthia and her husband, and a couple of Jason’s friends from his 
Church group. The group carried the food over to the university and dropped 
it off at the Church. There were over 20 people present, so one of the Priests 
came outside to give them a short service and blessing. From there they 
boarded a trolley and traveled downtown to the Plaza of the Ancients, where 
thousands of naked criminals and Church penitents already had gathered.

Maria Elena was surprised that the square was quiet, because she would have 
expected that such a large crowd would be making more noise. However, the 
collared subjects understood that they were about to perform a important 
service for the Church and the Danubian nation, something that all of them 
took seriously. The tradition went back 3,000 years, to the beginning of 
Danubia. The weight of those three millennia fell heavily upon both the 
marchers and the Clergy members as they prepared for the ceremony.

Clergy members and Temple attendants spread out around the plaza with 
buckets of white and back body-paint. Other Clergy members pulled tarps off 
huge piles of wooden torches that had been deposited at foot of the steps of 
the Temple. Behind the torches were piles of arm-slings and basins full of oil 
were lined up at the top of the stairs. 

There was a religious service on the plaza and an explanation of the 
significance of the Day of the Dead for those who were marching for the first 
time. Maria Elena was pleased that her comprehension of Danubian was good 
enough that she actually understood a lot of what Grand Prophet # 4 was 
saying. Following the ceremony and several hymns, the Grand Prophet picked 
up an unlit torch and a sling. He called a naked young woman to step forward 
and stand next to him. Maria Elena’s heart skipped a beat, because the young 
woman was Grand Duchess Anyia. 

At first fear and hatred rose up in the Colombian, but then she took a closer 
look at Anyia’s face. She could tell that Anyia had changed, because all of the 
arrogance, greed, and cruelty that had been part of the Grand Duchess’s 
expression had vanished. She was a totally different person, quietly and shyly 
doing what she was told to do. Grand Prophet # 4 told Anyia to kneel in front 
of him, which she quickly did. She assumed the proper position, with her arms 
extended in front of her, her forehead touching the ground, her knees spread, 
and her back arched to properly display her vulva and sphincter. She had knelt 
facing the Grand Prophet, so her body was lewdly displayed to everyone 
standing in the Plaza. 

The Grand Prophet told Anyia to stand up and face the crowd. He handed her 
the sling, which she placed over her shoulder. He then handed her the torch, 
which she put into the sling. The Prophet explained how best to carry the 
torch to avoid muscle fatigue in the arms or back cramps while Anyia 
demonstrated. When the Prophet explained how not to carry the torch, Anyia 
demonstrated the incorrect holds as well. The Prophet explained how to light 
the torch and how to quickly put it out if necessary, with Anyia continuing her 
demonstration. Once Anyia’s task was over, she set the torch down and 
resumed her kneeling position in front of the Grand Prophet.

As she watched Anyia’s performance on the steps of the Temple of the 
Ancients, Criminal # 101025 realized that she had something to be grateful for. 
She was ordinary: an ordinary criminal leading an ordinary life. No one would 
pay any special attention to her apart from Victor and her university friends. 
No television cameras would follow her; no commentators would have 
anything to say about her; no fans would worry about what she was doing and 
try to imitate her. Her anonymity was something for which she could give 
thanks to the Saints, or in this country, to the Ancients, as they were called. 
She would not have exchanged places with Anyia for anything.

Maria Elena understood that there was no point in hating the Grand Duchess, 
because there was nothing left to hate. Anyia now was nothing more than a 
possession of the Church, just as Maria Elena was an asset belonging to the 
Ministry of Justice. Anyia’s life was no longer her own: she had to rise, or 
kneel, or pose for a demonstration on the orders of the Clergy. In fact, in a 
way Maria Elena now felt sorry for Anyia, because of her notoriety. She felt 
that the Church, in its triumph over the Grand Duchess, was parading her in 
front of the public, making sure the world understood she lost her authority 
and now was nothing more than living property. Maria Elena realized that, for 
herself, the fall in her life was not nearly as significant… really, how much 
worse was it to be a collared criminal than a drug courier? But… for the 
Duchess… 

The Grand Prophet was not finished using the Grand Duchess as a 
demonstration prop. He ordered her to rise and again to face the crowd. He 
explained the significance of the body paint that everyone in the march would 
have to wear. Meanwhile two Priests quickly covered Anyia’s body and face 
with white paint. One of the Priests highlighted her with black details, which 
totally transformed her appearance and made her look ghoulish. Over the next 
hour everyone in the Plaza would undergo the same transformation. Anyia 
knelt upright facing the Plaza while she waited for her fellow marchers to be 
painted and to get ready for a night of walking.

While Anyia knelt in silence, the Clergy members organized the Plaza crowd 
into several lines. The body paint came first, then the torches and the slings, 
and finally fire for the torches. While the marchers were being painted, 
Church bells rang across the city to announce the beginning of the first 
evening of mourning and repentance. After Maria Elena’s friends and Victor 
were painted, she was frightened by how different they looked. It seemed that 
there was something more to their transformation than just a crude paint job. 
She took a deep breath as she felt the cold wet paint cover her body, because 
she was beginning to feel apprehensive. The low, sad pitch of the church bells 
certainly did not help her mood: unlike the higher-pitched ringing of church 
bells in Latin America, there was nothing cheerful about the sound of 
Danubian bells.

The sun set; and the bells suddenly stopped. The city fell into complete silence; 
it was so quiet that Maria Elena could hear the breathing of everyone around 
her and the hiss of the blood flowing though her own ears. The silence 
overwhelmed her.

The Grand Prophet handed a torch to Anyia. The Grand Duchess walked 
along the row of basins to light the oil. She let out an ear-piercing whistle to 
let everyone know that the march was beginning. The marchers closest to the 
Temple approached the steps, picked up torches and slings, lit their torches in 
the oil, and passed through the main Temple. On the other side of the building 
they separated into two lines, one going north and the other going south. 

Maria Elena followed Carmen and the other norteamericanos up the steps, her 
thoughts still on Anyia. She dipped her torch into the burning oil and then 
glanced over to see that Anyia was still standing next to the Grand Prophet. 
Anyia would march, but because she was by herself she would have to trail 
along behind the Clergy members. Maria Elena felt ever-increasing sympathy 
for her former nemesis; not only was the Duchess a public spectacle, but she 
had come to the Temple alone and her only companionship over the next two 
days would be the Clergy. 

Maria Elena’s line of marchers plunged into the darkness of the forest behind 
the Temple. The night was overcast and pitch-black, so all she could see was 
the line of torches stretching out ahead of her and the light from her own torch 
reflected off Carmen’s painted back. At first the foliage from the forest 
obscured the dots of fire stretching off into the distance and the Columbian 
could see only a few torches ahead of her. However, eventually the marchers 
emerged onto the river beach and climbed up onto the main street heading 
north. The line of lighted dots extended as far as she could see… seemingly 
into infinity.

Maria Elena became aware that the marchers were not alone. Huddled on 
either side of the road were crowds of silent Danubia civilians, all wearing 
black prayer robes. The worshipers had covered their heads and were barely 
visible in the dim light. More than anything they looked like a sea of lost souls, 
shrouded ghosts in the Realm of the Dead. 

At that point Maria Elena experienced a feeling that nearly everyone in the 
march experienced; a sensation of leaving the Realm of the Living. The line of 
burning dots extending into the darkness, the pitch black of the night, and the 
shrouded figures that did not seem human all gave her the sensation she no 
longer was alive. 

----------

Whether or not she was still alive, Maria Elena realized one thing; she no 
longer was in Danubia. She was in Pereira, back in Colombia. She had never 
left Colombia, because she had never broken up with Jose Pablo. They were 
both at the university, and when they were not in class they were hanging out 
with their friends. It was a good life they had, one full of promise. Each got 
along just fine with the other’s family. Drug trafficking was something that 
she heard about on the news, but not something she had any experience with 
first hand. And Jose Pablo… not dead, not dead at all. He had never joined the 
Colombian Army, and was nowhere close to that platoon when it was 
ambushed. She saw, in vivid detail, what her life would have been like had 
she done just two things differently the year before.

Maria Elena was still on campus when a young woman came up to her and 
slapped her hard across the face, knocking her down. She looked up to see 
herself, the self of the alternate reality, the self who was well-dressed and 
leading a happy productive life.  


“Why did you do this to us? Why? You killed me, you killed the man we both 
loved, and you killed yourself! Why?”

“I don’t know…”

With that, Pereira faded into darkness.

Maria Elena spent the rest of the night badly shaken by that… dream… or 
vision… or whatever the hell that experience was. Anyhow, she no longer had 
to guess how her life would have been had she not wasted it; she now knew 
for certain.