Expiation 2

It is 2083, and I am a female Augment. The Church gave me the name of Kyoko, though I am not, so far as I know, of Asian descent. I'm the youngest Augment in this parish, though of legal age. It would lose the purpose of the Church to have Augments, if I was not of legal age.

The Church officially states that Augments are not born of humans, and therefore we have no souls. Yet we appear human, we think and act as human, but still, we are not born of humans.

So much trouble and strife over the years, after the great wars of the earlier decades of this century, so much prejudice against the Church, any church, any religion, really, that the Church finally took drastic measures some 23 years ago and accepted Augments onto its staff, for limited purposes. Now priests who are tempted by the flesh can, in the eyes of the Church, use an Augment, and not sin, though the dilemma with the older priests is such that those who use Augments who have been bred for sex, trouble those elder priests to the point that often, the nuns must enforce expiation of sins, so the priest can be cleansed and really, the matter hushed and thought of no more.

Some Augments serve in the government as mathematic savants, or in place of computers, where computers are no longer trusted. Others of us serve in enforcement, in areas where it is too dangerous, too risky, for true humans.

And some of us, such as myself, serve for sex, and for that purpose alone, as alleviation of stress and expiation of sins, so that priests can minister to true humans, while the nuns tend to the torment of the unholy Augments.

I was bred for the purpose of sex, and as I grew up and was trained in my arts and given an education of the highest degree, priests and on occasion, nuns, would visit the Center, to observe, to make suggestions, to make requests. I remember, with the excellent recall of an Augment, the priest who began to visit more often, who, it was said by our trainers, was selecting Augments for what would someday be his diocese. Our Center was on the continent that used to be North America, towards the northern area, before the great deluge ripped apart the arms that held North and South Americas together across a canal. The two no longer touch and indeed, that canal no longer exists, swamped with the rest.

I began the habit of keeping a journal while I was in my 12th year of education and training at the Center, and I have kept one to this day. Since my free time is my own, I am allowed to keep my journals, so long as I not give names or indiscretions that would reveal too much of the true humans. So I have called the young priest Father Michael, for the great archangel who held the flaming sword at Eden's gate, because it was Father Michael who eventually caused the great uprising of Augments, and who knew there were more of us than was ever told to the true humans by their governments? Certainly not us, so it was a great step of faith in the end for us to risk ourselves. But that is later, much later.

Three of the priests specifically requested an Augment who looked small, so I was bred to be no greater than 5 feet in height, and tiny, though I am strong and supple and very flexible. My hair is jet black, so black that in the morning sun, it almost seems to glint with blue and purple, but I do not change the color of my hair with dye. That is only for the Church to do, in my case, or Father Michael. My eyes are purple, a deep violet, like pansies, Father Michael told me once, and I smiled. My breasts are high and firm and very full; my belly flat and tiny; and I have an hourglass shape to my body that is not exaggerated, but is pleasing to the eye of my owners. My skin is cream and fair, with a faint blush to my cheeks; my eyes have a very slight slant, as that was considered to be more alluring by those who bred me. My cheeks are high, though not sharp. I have a small mouth, even teeth, and perfect vision, though of course, an Augment is perfect in body, if not in spirit.

While I was trained and taught the ways of many ways of pleasure, to give and to receive, to be innovative and creative in the giving of pleasure, I was also implanted, as is the way for nearly all Augments. All Augments, of course, have the implant at the base of the neck, for control; it would not do for an Augment to refuse an order or an assignment, or to question their roles. It would cause disorder and strife, and since the great wars and the deluge, order is all. Order is everything.

The Church – indeed, all churches, all religions – had had its problems for many years, having sex at times with those who, since I must be careful in my wording in my journals lest I not be allowed to write them any longer – those individuals who were not willing to have sex, or unable to choose sex for themselves.

Augments, though...Augments have no souls. We must be of legal age, yes, before the transaction can be finished, the purchase made. But once made, we are the property of who or what company, even, has bought us.

Since I was bred for the purpose of sex, I was kept with others, male and female, who were being trained for the same purpose. Part of my day, as I grew, was education in classics, literature, music, the arts. Not all who wish for sex choose to have it with an illiterate oaf. The rest of my day was dedicated to physical attainment, strength, flexibility; yoga and methods of studying ancient ways of pleasure, the understanding of true humans and their anatomy, how their bodies received pleasure, or pain. Early on we learned that there are many who enjoy both, and who enjoy giving both. So we were taught to receive and to give, as our future owners might wish.

Others at our Center, in different buildings, were given additional implants to help with memory, calculus, meta-human abilities to take the place of computers, for instance, since those caused great trouble and lost much trust in the old wars. It is easier to terminate an Augment who can walk and retain information as your computer, than it is to stop a network from carrying out orders, once it's been hacked.

Those at my building, including myself, were implanted for pleasure, for greater stimulus and ability. I have small rings piercing my nipples, for instance, but there is a small prong from those rings that is embedded into extra tissue and – material – in my breasts, to keep my breasts aroused, to keep my nipples tingling at the slightest touch when I signal it, so my nipples will enlarge and swell in a manner that is most pleasing to my owners.

I likewise have a piercing through my clit, that runs the length of it to the outward view, and on either side of my clit, in the tender flesh between the joining of my legs and crotch, I have two additional piercings. But beneath my skin, they are joined and embedded in a heightened, increased set of nerves that true humans do not have. The clit piercing, for example, has three prongs; the middle prong is longest and is meshed directly with the vital nerve that runs through my clit. Two smaller prongs run to each side, joining the smaller piercings, and together they link and intertwine with added nerves and blood sacs, so that I am able to sustain orgasms far more often, far longer, than would a true human. When we first received these, our instructors demonstrated with the Box, one by one for each of us, how this would feel. I do not think any of us survived that first demonstration, or even the next dozen or more, without fainting from the brain-throbbing intense pleasure that went on, and on, and on. It took great skill and training to endure this without fainting, but now I am able to take intense rounds of pleasure or pain or both, and not shame myself or my owners. I can also heal more rapidly than can true humans, something most Augments can do. For some reason, this only causes the true humans to fear us more. I don't know why.

My owners. Yes. I knew when Father Michael began to visit more and more, and single me out, that I would most likely be theirs, and one day I was told by my instructors that the Church had bought me. I had just finished the Kama Sutra yet again, so I was flushed and happy. I was glad that I would be going with Father Michael, though he was not so young any more, though possibly in his early 50's by now. I would not ask him, of course.

I was given clothing appropriate for my new station, last minute instructions, and told to report back to the Center in six months for "fine tuning" and any adjustments which my new owners might require. Credits changed hands between the Church and the Center, and an old nun, whom I would learn was far stronger than she looked, drove me from the Center, my only home, to my new home, though it is foolish for an Augment to think of new owners as being a home. It is a job, and owners, nothing more.

The nun, who turned out to be the Mother Superior, drove the entire time with either her lips pursed and an angry look on her face, or else she would snap at me and give me directions on what I would be doing.

When we arrived, the view was very beautiful. The Church sat on a hill that had once been part of a great city, they say, and looked out upon the ocean now, though long ago the ocean had been much further away. I found that hard to believe, even though I had studied this very thing. I carried my own bags; Mother Superior huffed at me and began walking away, so I picked up the two bags and began trailing after her. Being an Augment in my case does not mean enormous strength, though there are those of us who are bred for such a thing, but I still managed to carry my two bags into the hallway of the priests' home.

I knew that I would not live in their building, but it was very beautiful and of course, fairly new, having been completed a dozen years or so before. So many churches of so many religions had been destroyed in the old wars. When churches rebuilt, or at least in the case of this Church, they had gone back to old style fortifications, with embankments and great walls that surrounded the buildings as well as the Church itself, so that never again would Churches be destroyed in the night. I scoffed at that idea, but only to myself. Whatever man builds, man can destroy. I shrugged and followed Mother Superior further into the hallway. She introduced me briefly and very curtly to each of the priests, who looked on me with interest, as I did them, and then we scuttled down the smooth cool hallway towards the nuns' building, and then to my quarters.

Sister Bernice and Sister Agnes were told to examine the clothes I'd brought with me, and to explain my duties. Here the old nun looked at me with great venom and called me "a wicked child," though as I said, I am of legal age and a woman, and certainly no child.

"Don't worry, she calls anyone younger than her a child," whispered Sister Bernice, and I smiled at her. The young Sister seemed flustered, though, at becoming too friendly with an Augment, and one bred for sexual expiation at that, so she stopped smiling abruptly and snapped her fingers at Sister Agnes. We put my luggage on my small bed and opened the cases and began to examine the clothing. Sister Bernice had sent a list ahead to the Center, so I had most of the items needed.

I had thought that I might walk about and learn of my new home, or at least gain a feeling for my new surroundings, but already Father Michael had requested that I go to him that evening, so the two nuns were in a rush. I stripped and they examined me, marveling at my smooth skin and the lack of hair on my body. It is easy, though, for an Augment to have this trait bred into them, and long ago this priest had required that I be hairless in my pubic area, and so my genes had been Augmented for just that. Sister Agnes later confessed to me that she, as had many other women, gone back to old styles of not shaving because of the great loss of metals caused by the old wars; even the old razors were too expensive to warrant every day use now except among the very rich.

This seems a little foolish to me, because it is an easy matter to inject a genetic marker to manipulate one's body hair, and so I was hairless except on my head, my brows, my eyelashes. It was not a great marvel to me. I shrugged and removed the rest of my clothing and changed while the two nuns watched, fascinated.

This first piece was the biker style clothing, a fantasy ensemble that had been deliberately specified to be in my wardrobe, so I decided that this first night would be a good time to use this outfit.

It was real leather, not fake, and the nuns timidly stroked the pieces of clothing before I put them on, amazed at such things. Very little true leather or fur now exists, and I had both. They are necessary for a sex Augment to own, and legal for me to have, and the nuns took great pleasure in examining and delighting in touching the furs and the leather. I told them that more trunks of clothing and items would arrive the next day, and that I would welcome their assistance in unpacking. They were very happy with this opportunity and assured me they would be ready to help the next day. The bells rang then, and they scurried away to their prayers, and I finished dressing in the peaceful silence.

I had only ever seen Father Michael through windows at the Center, and spoken to him by means of the vidphones or when he came to visit, so this would be my first time to be with him privately, in person. I smiled at my thought, "in person."

Emilie at the Center was an Augment gifted in matters of clothing. You had merely to describe an item, give the briefest of instructions as to what you wished, and she was able to immediately see the plan of the outfit, down to how many inches of precious materials she must cut in order for it to fit perfectly.

The chaps I wore fitted snugly on my hips, and I loved the short black leather boots with their squared heels. The short biker jacket was black leather as well, of course, and had a pleasant puff in the top of the sleeve that seemed feminine to me, which pleased me. I decided to wear my hair in a long ponytail, as I did not know how my new owner would prefer me to wear my hair. It would be easy to remove the band, and let my hair be long and loose, or to quickly wind it on the top of my head and secure it, as he pleased. I applied makeup, careful to give enough color that it was noticeable, so that the Sin would be obvious, yet not so much that it would be a shock. I recalled one of my instructors telling us, "subtle is better, many times."

A novice knocked on my door just then, and I glanced in the long mirror, another luxury, nodded, and then followed her down the great hallway, to Father Michael's rooms.

His rooms were in the building with the other priests, but being the highest level of priest there at the time, he had his own quarters and did not have to share with others. He had a room that looked out on the ocean, and the windows were open when I entered, bringing in fresh salt air and pleasant smells.

He greeted me and we spoke for a short time about my duties, though I had been taught these at the Center, and again on the way by Mother Superior. But he was my owner now, or the Church was, so I listened with great care as I had been taught to do, and with great politeness, asking only one or two questions to show my interest and attentiveness.

Eventually he sighed, smiled, and asked me if I knew about the Sin, and I said yes, but he seemed not to hear me, or else this was part of it, so I listened again with great care.

"Since the Pope decreed that Augments do not have souls, and to alleviate the suffering and grief of millions of Believers," Father Michael began, sitting in a great chair and swinging it gently to and fro as he spoke, "the Church began to buy Augments for the expiation and alleviation of the Sin." Here Father Michael lit a pipe, another great marvel and surely frowned on by the Church these days, though I knew of no papal edict against smoking.

He puffed on his pipe for a moment as I sat on a stool by his feet, watching, smelling the rich smoke. It was not true tobacco, of course. It was an Augment of sorts, like me, without the cancer-causing ingredients it used to have. I mused that it must have been something Father Michael did as an indulgence, or maybe it was soothing to him? for I noticed that his hands shook slightly at times during his little speech to me.

The Sin, as the Church began to call it, was when any priest or nun felt the need to void their celibacy; when the human came through the veneer of priesthood, for instance, and the human urges for sex, for orgasm and pleasure, for pain if need be, craved attention so much that the priest or nun could no longer deny it. Then, the Church had decreed, if that priest or nun felt the need, rather than turn to a human, who had a soul, which would be an unthinkable breech of celibacy, the Church stated that why, an Augment could be used, instead, as we have no souls and I suppose do not "count."

But since a priest or nun is a true human, and commits the act of sex, the act must be punished. And so at the Center, we had learned of punishment and pain, too, for the Great Expiation of the Sin, as it was called, would come later, so that we stood in the place of the priest or nun, and took the punishment for them, yet cleansed them of the Sin.

To me, it was a little strange and perhaps ironic, but the system had begun to work, and the Center was never one to shy from great sums of money. So Augments bred for sex and expiation had been created, and here I was.

There was another female Augment for sex at the Church, I learned that night; Alanna, staying in quarters two doors from my own. A male Augment, Dylan, was in the rooms between ours, so that if we needed our own relief, we might be with each other. We could not have sex with a true human, unless it was by their wishes, their decree. Among ourselves, though, was another matter.

I nodded, asked a question or two as I had been trained, and I stood eventually as I spoke, and in a few moments my arm was curled about the neck of Father Michael, and he was fondly patting my hip. His pipe went out, and he seemed to start, realizing the passage of time.

This first time, he chose for us to be alone, and I was grateful for that, as I did not wish to make any mistakes. I had been perfectly trained and had perfection mental retention, of course, but an owner, being a true human, may suddenly desire something new, or change his ways on a whim, so it was wise to be careful and to know the owner well.

The Curing Room, as it was called, was next door to Father Michael's bedroom, so we stepped through a door in his room and into the great Curing Room, so that there was no need for us to be in the hallway, and again I was grateful for this small kindness on his part.

He showed me about the room, and I explained the nature of my outfit to him, its small hidden treasures. We examined a beautiful lacquered cabinet from China that was in the center of the room, with various drawers and two fine strong doors. Having exhausted our examinations and explanations, Father Michael smiled and, I saw again, his hands shook slightly, and he noticed my glance. I at once turned my head so as not to embarrass my owner, but he smiled and said, "No, it's all right. Never fear to look me in the eye. Give me your word on that," and so I did. He was nervous, he said, and the body excited. I later learned that he was 54, and that he had waited, upon learning that the Church had purchased me, for nearly a year since his last expiation of the Sin, so I was flattered for his wait.

He rang a small bell, and immediately two male novices entered and quietly shut the door behind them as they came into the room. For this first time, Father Michael wanted, as he put it, "the simplest means," so they laid me on a beautiful bed at the back of the Curing Room, the room which cures the true humans of their urges, and the two novices took the small hooks that were on the black bands around my wrists and ankles and clasped them to the four bedposts, never speaking a word to me nor indeed, looking me in the eye, though I did notice the one named Peter eagerly looked at my body several times, when he thought I did not see.