Thongs

— 3-

I watched the cars arrive from my private apartment on the top floor of the big house: Rolls Royces, Daimlers, Talbots, and many others. Two uniformed attendants were directing the parking. Harry had already gone downstairs and I assumed he was occupying himself with the more important guests among the Members, for of course I found out at once that our Order, like all earthly orders, admitted of privileges for the rich and powerful. Harry had explained a great deal of this to me. Mr. Oakes had been a millionaire. Sir William L. was a great landowner. How then had I been chosen? In what way could I enrich or bring power to the Order? All Harry could say was that Oakes himself had on more than one occasion referred to this kind of corruption within the Order, to its being spoiled by wealth and privilege, to the possibility of its degenerating into a private club in which the wealthy could indulge in petty obscenities, and it was Harry's opinion that a stricture must have come from the Holy Seat itself both to Sir William L. and, perhaps through him, to Oakes, for at no time, Harry said, had either man impressed him as possessing a holy zeal for the commission of their trust. There was too much amusement, too many gatherings which were merely lascivious, too much hiring of professional exhibitionists from without the Order, couples who would dance in the nude and copulate at the same time, sleek-bodied women of various races and preferably of Lesbian tendencies who would rub and lick each other's sex for the delight of Members; in fact, in Harry's opinion, and that seemed to be borne out by the fact that those Members who actively participated in flagellation were becoming fewer and fewer in number, the big house was in danger of degenerating into a profitable brothel. There, he suspected, was the reason for my election. Indeed, Oakes' last letter to his Grand Painmaster, Sir William L., had hinted at this. New blood was needed in a decadent sect. "More blood," Harry said with a smile, "more blood and less titillation." It seemed that our Congregation had swollen to two hundred members and that not five percent of those members had appeared more than once for flagellation.

All this worried me as I watched the Members arrive in their fine cars. How on earth would I be able to control two hundred idle and lascivious men and women, some of whom, according to Harry, were very prominent in public affairs in this part of the country! What if they refused to obey me? How could I hope in one night to clear away all the corruption which my predecessor had allowed to come to exist during the ten years of his office? What if I was faced with mutiny? Harry had done his best to console me. He would be there at my right hand. Every one of the two hundred had sworn to obey under the penalty of Excommunication, and that, in the Order of Pain, meant death. Again, some Members would be firmly on my side, Mr. Bing for example, and Mr. Duval, and the redoubtable Mr. Coldstream. And I was not to forget that Sir William L. would be present, incognito of course, for none of the Members knew him except as an ordinary Member. No, in Harry's opinion, my Congregation would obey.

But would it?

I had no means of knowing in advance.

"Is everything ready, Willie?" I said.

Willie, who had been reading the evening paper, looked up. "Aye," he said.

The flogging room in the basement had been altered. Willie himself had attended to the installation of the new fixtures. The whipping board had been removed. Metal rings had been sunk into the floor and ceiling. Victims would now be stretched as I had been when I delivered myself over to Willie's doting punishment in the back shop of the boot maker's in Cumberland Street.

New instruments had been provided. No expense had been spared. Somehow Willie's company was a great comfort to me. Here was a Whipmaster of imagination. He was to have his own will with any female member of our organization: to whip, to suck, to dote, to bring religion where religion had not been before. But his loyalty touched me. It was my body which interested him. And it was his. Before all the world, it was his.

For some time now no more cars had arrived. If that meant that everyone had already come, then Harry would soon be sending for me. I pulled up my skirt and lay over a soft leather stool in front of Willie.

"Whip me a little, Willie!" I breathed.

He took a three-pronged leather strap from his pocket and with his full force, gave me six cruel blows across the soft, sweat-smeared surface of my buttocks. And then his nose and tongue were there, nudging, exploring. I raised my palpitating rump so that my slimy cunt came in contact with his darting wet tongue, and to feel it there, at my body's center, strong, hard, and masterful, just that, gave me back the knowledge of my own power, the religious certainty of my commitment.

Someone knocked at the door.

Willie got up and I slipped off the stool.

"Come in!"

It was Harry.

"They've come, Gertrude!"

"All?"

He nodded. "It's time you put in an appearance. They're all anxious to see you."

"Where have you put them?"

"In the Temple."

I nodded.

The Temple was a large, sparsely furnished hall at the back of the house, its ceiling domed like that of a mosque. There was a pulpit and beside it, a large whipping block. Chairs were arranged as in a church, in three segments with two aisles running between. Behind the pulpit and dominating the whole auditorium was a sculpted version of the picture I had first seen in the reception room, the Virgin Death.

"I shall come now. Go and prepare them."

He bowed and went out.

Willie helped me to dress in the plain toga of black cloth. Underneath, apart from a chain of iron drawn tightly about my waist and the black crown which fell from my cunt against the soft white surface of my right thigh, I was stark naked. My nipples and my navel had been treated with mascara. I stepped into my leather thong sandals and wound my soft black hair out of sight under a tall black turban.

"Be near, Willie," I said just before I went out.

There was a trapdoor in the pulpit so that the bearer of the Holy Seal could appear suddenly and impressively among the Congregation.

A moment later I was standing high in the pulpit, a green arc-light directed skillfully at me, and below me in the auditorium, a complete silence reigned.

I could see the faces craning up towards me: old faces, young faces, handsome faces, ugly faces, tired faces, fat faces, thin faces, gaunt faces, all alight with anticipation. Out of the corner of my eye I could see Harry, wearing a black mask across the upper part of his face, standing naked and rampant, the Whipmaster at his block. I raised my arms, my long fingers extended, making an impressive cross of my body.

"I am Gertrude!"

"She is Gertrude!" Harry echoed in a deeper voice.

"I am the bearer of the Holy Seal!"

"She is the bearer of the Holy Seal!"

"I am come to live amongst you as Pain!"

"She is come to live among us as Pain!"

Hazel, behind the wings, struck across her quivering buttocks at that moment by the five-fingered-spranger, let out a bloodcurdling scream of agony.

When that died away, I spoke again to the sea of white, straining faces.

"I am Gertrude!"

"She is Gertrude!"

"I am your Painmistress!"

"She is our Painmistress!"

"I am Mistress and Minister to your pain!"

"She is Mistress and Minister to our pain!"

I looked down to the front row and my eyes singled out a plump but pretty, well-dressed woman who sat next to an impressive-looking man with a military moustache.

I pointed my finger at her. She cringed closer to her escort.

"Stand up, woman!" I said.

She hesitated. Her escort looked indignant. But after a few seconds she shifted nervously to her feet. She was really quite beautiful in spite of the slight plumpness. She would be about thirty-five, I guessed. I could imagine the soft white flesh, tremulous and slightly damp under her fashionable dress.

"You are a Member?"

"Yes … my Lady!"

I smiled and stretched out my hand toward her.

"Come," I said gently. "For my first Mass I have chosen you to perform the Rite of the Virgin Death!"

A wondering murmur ran through the auditorium. I knew why. Harry had told me that the corruption in our Congregation extended even to the holiest of rituals so that for this particular Rite, Mr. Oakes had been in the habit of employing a professional to be whipped on the block below the sculpted passion of death. Thus my command struck deep at corrupt usage, especially as I had chosen a woman from the front row, that's to say, one who was probably a celebrity or the wife of a celebrity in the outside world.

"I…" Her gaze broke with mine and she glanced at her escort. He was already on his feet and he looked furious.

"Come!" I repeated, ignoring him.

She still hesitated.

The man spoke. He was furious but his voice was restrained.

"Excuse me, my Lady, but this is not the usual practice in our Congregation. My wife…"

"Silence! In this Temple she is not your wife, nor are you your own master, sir! You are the creatures of Pain and by your obedience, Pain will judge you! Sit down, sir, before you offend mortally!"

I raised my right hand, and a beam of white light fell on the gentleman's face.

"Lord E.," Harry's deep voice intoned, "you will obey the Seal!"

The woman, terrified, made as if to come forward, but her husband gripped her by the wrist. He turned to face a thin, gray-haired man who sat quietly at the end of the front row.

"What have you to say to this, Sir William? It's an outrage!"

"I, Lord E.?" Sir William said in a hushed tone. "What should I have to say?"

"Can you not control this upstart?" Lord E. demanded.

I realized at once that Lord E. knew Sir William's identity within the Order. Corruption, it seemed, had spread far. I glanced at Harry. He too had understood and his eyes flickered dangerously behind his mask.

"I…" Sir William stammered, coming to his feet.

"Silence!" I cried. I pointed an accusing finger at Sir William. "Sit down, sir, or by Death you will answer!"

Sir William flopped back into his seat, a broken man. I clapped my hands. Two masked men appeared suddenly. They were dressed in black tights and black turtle-necked pullovers. They moved like ballet dancers.

I pointed to Lord E.

"Take that blasphemous rogue to the cellars!" I commanded.

Lord E. gasped and was about to speak, but one of my men in black had produced a short length of lead piping. He struck Lord E. once, hard, across the cheekbone, and the gentleman collapsed in their arms. Then, swiftly, they removed the unconscious body.

Harry meanwhile had descended from beside the block and was dragging Lady E. toward the dais by the wrist. The rest of the company were shocked. Half of them were standing up.

"Members, be seated. You are in the presence of Pain!" This was blared through the auditorium as if by megaphone. Harry and I had arranged a number of these stage effects against any eventuality. The reaction was instantaneous. The audience sat down.

"Now let us have silence!" I cried.

The hall was silent.

"Strip naked!" I said to Lady E.

She hastened to obey.

Her slightly fat, milk-white breasts sprang free of the brassiere like startling rubber balls. The soft fat on her shoulders and upper arms was pink and quivering. In silence she undressed, removing her girdle so that the soft flesh of her creamy belly fell in a tremulous melon-smooth disc over her thick-chevroned cunt. She stood shyly before the multitude.

I raised my arms to form a cross of my body once more.

"Let us pray!" I said.

The Congregation went down to its knees.

"To thee, oh Pain, we consecrate the agony of this woman's flesh! Help her to suffer! To feel the quick brightness of your movement in all the muscles and fiber! Teach her to scream! Teach her to treasure every humiliation, every violence that we, thy servants, inflict upon her trembling flesh! Take unto thyself her utmost misery and turn it by the shard of thy cruel tongue into the fire of purity in her veins! Amen."

I turned to Harry.

"Let us proceed."

He bound her tightly with leather thongs to the block so that her large spreading buttocks jutted out like marble toward him. Her big creamy thighs were thonged a foot apart at the knees so that her anus showed like a small red berry peeping beneath dark hair and the stubborn tuft of her hot cunt was visible from the rear.

I raised my right hand.

"Let the Great Lord of Pain visit the willing flesh of this trembling woman with his dark power, and let the Communicants who visit this, the symbol of the flesh of our Virgin of Death, with the seal of their doting lips be themselves visited with an eternal lust for his quick and striking fire!"

I turned to the Members.

"Let the Communicants come forward!"

The Members rose as one body. They formed silent queues in the aisles.

"Let the first Member bring his lips to the altar!"

And then they were moving, each member kneeling in front of the soft mellow buttocks, crossing himself, and sinking his tongue to the hilt in the hair-sharded little red anus of the lovely Lady E.

This part of the ceremony took about half an hour because of the large number of Communicants. At the end of it, Lady E. was shuddering with lust. She had no doubt come two or three times during the sacrament. The Communicants had returned in silence to their seats.

"Daughter! Are you ready to receive the visitation of Pain himself?"

"Yes, oh yes! Please!" Lady E. gasped.

I nodded to Harry.

He stepped back into position and struck her forcibly on the buttocks with the brand new five-fingered-spranger. I noticed that the wood of the block was wet with Lady E.'s sweat. After the third stroke it seemed as though her quivering flesh was trying to melt into the wood.

At the sixth stroke, she screamed and the terrible scream ran like a nightmare among the Members. Their faces were tense and receptive.

I directed Harry to go on. His big member flapped rampant on his gleaming white belly as he struck.

The scream came again.

He struck again.

At the tenth stroke I recognized the familiar scream, out of control. The sacrament was accomplished. The lady was "beside herself: " only then did she enter pure into religion. I threw off my black vestments and stepped naked down from the pulpit, the black cross swinging between my legs.

I motioned Harry aside and fell on my knees before the bleeding buttocks. Skillfully I ran my tongue in the sweating furrow of her cunt until I felt the shudder of response from her whole torso. Then, kneeling straight up, I crossed myself and turned again to face the members. The green arc-light had followed me and gave a ghostly radiance to the full curves of my flesh. I raised my naked arms so that my breasts were lifted high, my black nipples poised delicately like the eyes of an insect.

"Holy Father of Pain we thank thee!" I screamed. "May the Virgin Death be appeased by this sacrament!"

In unison the Members said Amen.

Harry cut the woman from the block and she was carried out by the two men in black.

I returned to the pulpit.

The most difficult part of the ceremony was over. One of the most influential women had accepted public flagellation. True, I still had to deal with her husband who was locked in the cellars, but for them, the Members, he had already been dealt with. My authority was established. Harry, his arms crossed on his broad chest, and his member still rampant, stood below the pulpit to the right, facing them. I looked over the sea of faces and spoke calmly.

"Members of Pain! I speak to you now to recall you to your true discipline! Over the years you have become fat and idle and prurient. Instead of lacerating your own flesh, you have preferred to lacerate the flesh of hired minions; instead of knowing the joy of Pain, you have inflicted an unholy pain on prostitutes; instead of drinking at the well of suffering, you have come drunk, fat, and replete with earthly joys to make a brothel of your Holy Temple. You have made an idol of ordinary lust and come amused to exercise it in the Holy Temple of Pain! With your money and your earthly power you have bribed and corrupted Pain's holy servants and caused the sense of Order and Hierarchy in this Congregation to resemble an auction in a whorehouse! The repercussions of your blasphemous behavior are not yet at an end. But the Order of Pain will weed all corruption out. Men may die, but the Order is everlasting!

"Did you think that Pain was so weak that He would continue to overlook this outrage?

"Did you think you had bought Him too?

"Let me warn you of your error here and now! Rather would Pain thrust red-hot steel through each and every cowardly heart in this Congregation than suffer your blasphemies any longer! It is for you, the Members, to choose: Death or Purification! I warn you to beware! I, bearing the Holy Seal, am the Judgment!"

I changed my tone of voice: "All Members in the first two rows will now leave the Temple. They will follow the Whipmaster to the Room of Flagellation. They will taste great Pain tonight!"

I fell silent until these chosen twenty had been ushered out of the Temple.

When they had gone, I addressed those who remained.

"I take it that the twenty Members who have just gone to their punishment were at the center of the corruption of which I spoke. That does not exonerate you. When you felt the wind of corruption in our holy Order, you should have taken a firm stand against it. For this reason you will each during the next three months make a weekly presentation of your flesh for flagellation. Only the dead will be excused. And now, before you go, you will each swear allegiance to me, your Holy Painmistress, by kissing my cunt."

I came down out of the pulpit and stood, hands on hips, my mound thrust forward, to meet the first of a hundred and eighty doting tongues.