Father William De Peirce returned from his ministrations at the local Presbyterian Chapel exactly as the Commanders Tower rang three bells. He was particularly pleased with the service He had conjured today, His sermon on the eternal torments of Hell had been visually stunning and the view of His parishioners quaking in the pews went some way towards slaking His need to go amongst then with a chainsaw.
"I have a present for you Daddy Bill!"
Imogen was one of His more useful creations. Somehow she had retained the ability to talk and reason not withstanding His very acute administrations and was proving a suitable acolyte in every sense of the word. He was very proud of the corset piercing that adorned her, one of His more aesthetic creations and took great pleasure in showing her now perfect form for the cost of a measly dime.
"Hopefully more interesting than My last gift Imogen. After I amputated her legs she was totally stumped!"
Father William chortled loudly at His own humor but Imogen never as much as cracked a smile.
"I really must perfect My lobotomy skills!"
"I have a present for you Daddy Bill."
Knowing this would be an everlasting conversation and not having the time or patience for a lengthy exchange Father William simply took a large needle and thread from the lapel of His black frock coat and neatly blanket stitched her lips together.
"Ah, how wonderfully rewarding is the thread of silent acquiescence."
Imogen seemed pleased. Daddy Bill had been inclined to ignore her needs lately in favor of newer meat; at least this little consideration proved she still held a small place in His affections.
Alice realized she had been drugged as soon as consciousness began to permeate her befuddled brain. The room was very dark and smelt strangely medical, not at all where she expected to be. Having dropped acid several times the very bizarre yet totally lucid dream her mind had manifested was no surprise, but to surface into what seemed another trip was a new experience entirely. She appeared to be sitting in what could best described as a chicken coop, although the bars in front of her face were much sturdier than any needed to retain a fowl. Her hands were securely fastened behind her back and a ball of some kind was strapped between her teeth. She bit down hard and it gave not a millimeter. The fact she was again stark naked was no surprise as all her adventures real or imagined tended to agree in that element.
"ELL, ELL."
Turning her head to the left she focused on the other trussed up body next to her that was desperately trying to communicate.
"HUH?"
Obviously English was no longer their first language.
"GAGGY GILL!"
Alice shook her head violently in an attempt to find some clarity but only succeeded in stirring the fog further.
"What have we here?"
Whatever covering had kept the cage in gloom was pulled aside and light cascaded in to temporarily blind both girls.
"Imogen has been busy!"
Something about the voice was a little disturbing. Even more worrying was the effect it had on her companion who lost total control of her bladder and soaked the entire cage, Alice's ass cheeks included.
"Welcome to Daddy Bills house of pleasures."
"GOHHHH, GAGGY GILL."
Now the girl made sense, it was English after all.
Father William took his time preparing the operating area, placing each of the instruments He carefully chose from His large and valuable collection in neat rows on two castered stainless steel tables. Practice had made His preparations meticulous. There was nothing more irritating than realizing you didn't have the exact tool required when an appropriate piece of flesh offered up its sensual texture. He took great pleasure in explaining to His models exactly what procedure He was about to perform and often felt the need to stop mid cut or probe to amplify the precise procedure that was producing such a profound effect on the recipient.
Alice watched with eyes now wide and fully alert as her twin captive was taken from the cages constriction and carefully washed completely with some sort of alcoholic smelling liquid. Imogen seemed to be particularly intent on ensuring not one crack or crevice was overlooked and used cotton wool carefully held in surgical forceps to probe deeply into the girl's anatomy.
The cleansing completed to Imogen's thorough satisfaction the profusely weeping blank canvas was seated in a steel and white plastic gynecological chair, her knees held bent at approximately ninety degrees and her thighs parted so wide that Alice could see every fold of both her inner and outer labia. The girl's wrists and elbows were secured to the arms of the chair with very pretty white leather straps matching perfectly the esthetics of the whole apparatus.