‘Please do.’
‘He lifted his golden flail, the seal of his office, and proclaimed, “You see before you four fallen sisters of our order, sisters who have dared to repeat secrets of our ceremonies outside this natural fortress which for centuries has preserved The Divine Flagellants from prying eyes and ears. Only you, the initiates of our order, can understand our divine purpose and the sublime nature of our arcane rites. To reveal them to the uninitiated is to risk the wrath of our God, the most sacred Lord of the Flagellants”. At that, a huge noise went up like the roar of a ferocious animal and I shivered in my robe.’
‘Did you fear for your own safety, my dear George?’
‘No, for I had Algernon’s assurance no harm would befall me. In any case, everyone there was staring in utter loathing at those motionless women and cursing them with the most dreadful oaths. Such was the power of the crowd’s wrath that I felt myself being drawn into it and even found myself uttering similar curses, although neither the Order nor the women meant anything to me.’
‘Yes, the magnetic force of a mob can be terrifyingly powerful,’ Leo agreed. ‘But go on, please, describe the punishment, I beg you.’
‘The man in black had the task of preparing the women to be flogged, and I watched it all with an eager excitement of which I am now somewhat ashamed.’
‘You have no need to feel shame, George,’ Leo assured him. ‘It is evident from your account the whole procedure was designed to rouse such feelings in even the most resistant heart. Even I am growing aroused hearing it all second-hand. But pray, continue…’
‘The habits of the four nuns who were lying facedown were raised to display their naked posteriors. All the men present had their eyes fixed on those four pairs of buttocks, and I guessed that, like me, they were comparing their charms. The first nun had an ample arse, fleshy and sagging, but the second had a fundament that was trim and taut as a ripe fruit, and I guessed she was somewhat younger. It was an intriguing game to guess their respective ages from the appearance of their derrières alone.’
‘And the other two?’
‘One of them afforded a great surprise, for she possessed skin of a dusky hue. The fourth girl’s flesh was pink and dimpled, quite luscious to behold. I could tell every man in that rocky chamber was very excited at this point, and that excitement grew even more intense when the man in black commanded the first nun to get up on all fours and receive her thrashing.’
‘Did they not have to repent first?’
‘We were informed by the Grand Master that the nuns remained obdurate and this was why they had to be chastised. At a signal from him, the raucous crowd fell silent and a small choir of men sitting at the far end began to hum a canon. Their droning voices formed a low, somewhat eerie background to the proceedings. The flagellant unhooked the implement from his belt and stood poised over the first of the nuns, whose bottom was now raised high in the air, her fleshy cheeks tensed in anticipation of the impending correction.’
‘Is that what they called it, correction?’
‘Yes. The Grand Master said the aim of all such correction was to set the footsteps of the offender firmly back upon the straight and narrow path. He then instructed his servant to administer the first blow. There was a sharp intake of breath amongst those around me as the leather thongs bit repeatedly into the nun’s quivering buttocks, producing a pattern of red stripes. We watched her whole body flinch as the sharp pain passed through her, yet she remained motionless on all fours like some tethered beast.’
‘How many lashes did she receive?’
‘The sentence had already been passed, six strokes for each women. By the sixth blow, the unfortunate victim half collapsed and a great sigh of relief escaped her lips when she was permitted to lie down again. Yet her buttocks remained exposed, the pale globes crisscrossed with crimson stripes reminiscent of sacred stigmata acting as witnesses to her agony and humiliation. The Grand Master then stated that the dignity with which she received her punishment should be a lesson to the other nuns, and I could have sworn the dusky-coloured woman was trembling in anticipation while the other two remained perfectly still and quiet.’
‘Who was to be chastised next?’
‘The young nun with the tight round buttocks. There was something almost jaunty about the way she raised herself to her knees, waggling her behind a little as if to tease the onlookers. I heard a few smothered laughs and lewd whispers passed through the crowd. She was the youngest, to be sure, and I had the distinct impression the saucy wench actually relished baring her bottom to a roomful of lascivious male eyes.’
‘Are you daring to suggest,’ Leo feigned surprise, ‘she might even have been enjoying the harsh punishment meted out to her?’
‘It is possible. She certainly gave that impression. She spread her legs wide when commanded to lift up her lower regions, displaying her sex in a most immodest manner. I heard gasps and sighs pass amongst the spectators, and when the cat was raised there were cries of “give it to her good and proper” and “spare not the lewd creature”. The man with the whip bowed to the crowd, a cruel smile on his lips, and delivered a stinging lash across both the girl’s bottom cheeks that made her squirm, whether with pain or excitement it was impossible to tell. The next three strokes made her gasp in obvious agony, and when at last she was commanded to resume her former position, she continued to press herself against the wooden platform, writhing and moaning in a fit of extreme passion.’
‘What of the other two nuns?’ Leo asked eagerly. ‘Were they punished with equal severity?’
‘No, they were not. The dark-skinned woman was given lighter strokes, for as her rotund posterior received each taste of the whip she uttered a Latin phrase Algernon told me meant I give thanks to you.’
‘Gratias tibi ago,’ Leo translated.
‘Yes, that was it. I suppose the woman’s expression of gratitude was enough to earn her a lighter sentence. At any rate, her chastisement was soon over, but then the last nun, like the second, seemed more inclined to relish her punishment.’
‘Tell me more, please.’
‘She had the most delightfully pert buttocks, I must say, and her smooth skin took the flail well. At each stroke, a resounding clap filled the cave and there were some sporadic rounds of applause from the men, who by now were becoming quite rowdy. When four strokes had been administered, the man in black commanded her to lie prone again, but to everyone’s obvious surprise, she did not immediately obey. Instead, she turned around and let her hood fall away, revealing a face of uncommon beauty. She gave a little enigmatic smile, and as her hands reached back to rub her sore bottom, she thrust out her ample breasts beneath her habit, making for a very fetching sight, indeed. The Grand Master rose from his seat looking outraged and she quickly fell to the floor, but not soon enough to escape his wrath.’
‘What happened?’ Leo breathed. ‘Did he order her to receive more lashes?’
‘No, he said she must be stripped and bound, and we all watched, spellbound, as the black nun’s habit was torn off her, exposing her nubile form to dozens of male eyes. The place was so silent at this point you could hear your own heart beating. The young woman was truly afraid now, and the combination of fear and the sudden cold made her nipples stand out on her magnificent breasts, making her a sight to behold.’
Leo groaned and Hetty knew the stimulating tale was exciting him. She felt aroused as well, her sex throbbing urgently beneath the rough serge trousers. Although she longed to take him to bed and demand her conjugal rights, she knew it was too soon; their little charade must be pursued to the very end.
‘The Grand Master ordered she should be blindfolded,’ George went on, ‘and then she was led around the room for each man to fondle and probe. The humiliation of this punishment should have been immense, but all the while there was that small, mysterious smile on her lips, as if she was enjoying every minute of
it. When it came to Algernon’s turn, he thrust his fingers into her quim and her arse at the same time while his lips fondled one of her nipples, and I distinctly heard her issue a low moan of pleasure at the rough treatment.’
‘And you, dear George, did you get a taste of this delicious fruit yourself?’
‘I did. She came to sit upon my lap, and by then I was feeling so excited and nervous all I managed to do was lick and caress her bosom. Then another man grabbed hold of her and my turn was over. At the end of what was supposed to be a humiliating ordeal, she was led back onto the platform to join her fellow nuns. The Grand Master then announced all four women were pardoned for their transgression and the ceremony appeared to be at an end.’
‘How extraordinary,’ Leo murmured. ‘They certainly go to extremes in foreign parts.’ He rose from his chair in a state of obvious tension. ‘Tell me, George, did you ever wish to be that man in black yourself during the course of the proceedings?’
‘Oh Leo, if only you knew how I longed to wield the lash. It would not have been the first time, as you know, but to have such a theatre in which to act out my secret desires… I am quite agitated now just imagining it.’
‘Then perhaps we should do something about that. What if I were to dress in robes, George, and lie prone like those nuns. Would that satisfy you?’
‘Perhaps, but I suspect it would satisfy you even more. Do you have the wherewithal to re-enact such a scene, Leo?’
‘Where there is a will, there is a way,’ he replied with a smile. ‘Sit over there with your back to me, George, while I find all the accoutrements, and do not turn around until I give you the word.’
Hetty did as she was told, staring at the picture of the boys in the gym still displayed on the easel while she waited. She knew her husband’s desire to be flogged stemmed from his public school days, and she was happy enough to oblige him. Yet she was also not averse to being physically chastised herself on occasion, as posing with Milord today had shamefully reminded her. Usually, once she did the honours she began to long for the same punishment herself. So much the better, she thought, since tonight she would first play the active part with her husband and later submit to similar treatment herself at Milord’s party.
When she was finally given permission to turn around, she saw her husband was wearing an old nightgown of hers and looking coy. She covered the floor between them in a few manly strides. ‘What is this?’ she demanded gruffly. ‘You have dressed yourself up in your mistress’s finest ball gown while my back was turned? Is this any way for a lady’s maid to behave?’
‘Err… no,’ Leo simpered, hanging his head and playing his part to perfection. ‘I am so sorry, sir…’
‘You must be punished,’ she said sternly. ‘Kneel there by the bed and say your prayers. Beg the good Lord for forgiveness, then I shall administer your penance.’
Leo got down on his knees and pretended to pray. While he did so, she looked around for a means of chastising him, and noticed the hazel switch near the door. They used it to scare pigeons and stray cats off the roof, but now it would come in handy for another purpose. She removed her jacket, rolled up her shirtsleeves and picked up the supple wand. ‘Hitch up your skirts!’ she commanded in George’s deep voice.
Slowly, Leo obeyed, revealing his man’s firm rump, and as she approached him he tensed his muscles so his shapely buttocks appeared even more defined to her appreciative eyes.
‘I hope you will take this correction to heart,’ she told him. ‘Your insolence shall never go unpunished, so mind you behave yourself in future. But harsh words are not enough; you need to be properly punished in order to learn your lesson.’ She raised the flexible rod in her right hand, her bosom heaving beneath the white shirt. She brought the switch down hard upon his pliant flesh, heard him gasp as she saw his body recoil beneath the blow, and watched a red stripe appear across the pale skin of his left buttock.
‘And again,’ she announced. This time, the stinging blow fell on his right cheek, but Leo’s bottom was braced against it and the rod landed with a resounding crack.
‘One more…’
He gasped loudly this time beneath the impact, and then gave a low moan of fulfilment as he fell facedown across the bed. ‘Thank you, George,’ he muttered, pulling himself up onto the mattress and slipping beneath the sheet. ‘Forgive me, but I am exhausted now. Hetty will make up a bed for you in the corner when she returns. Make yourself at home until then. Do not give me another thought, I shall sleep all the more soundly for that welcome diversion.’
He pulled the sheet up over his head and Hetty knew this was her cue to change back into her own clothes. This time, however, she would not follow the usual script. She was determined to take up Milord’s invitation, and it would be safer to travel alone through the streets of Paris as George. Slipping silently out of the apartment, she crept downstairs, her heartbeat loud in her ears.
Chapter 2
Hetty had never been out alone on the streets of Paris at night, but her bold stride attracted only a few curious glances as she descended to the square below the Sacré Cœur where a cab could usually be found. Dressed as George she felt strangely confident, but her heart was still thudding in her chest as she gave her instructions to the driver and climbed up into the dark interior of the hansom cab.
As the horse began clopping slowly over the cobbles, she felt obliged to shout to the driver, ‘Come on, man, I have not got all night!’ the way a true gentleman might.
Soon they were trotting at a faster pace, heading south through the narrow streets towards the Seine, and she sat back in the leather seat reflecting on what she was about to do. She left Leo sound asleep, but there was every chance he would wake in the night and find her gone. Her only alibi was her friend Marie, a sickly woman she could say she had gone to visit and found in such a bad state she felt obliged to remain at her bedside all night.
Her thoughts drifted to what awaited her in reality at the end of her journey. There was the possibility Milord would fail to recognise her and refuse to admit her in men’s clothing. It was a risky venture, for she did not have the money to pay for the carriage ride there, let alone for the journey home, and a cold fear took hold of her as she contemplated being stranded in the heart of Paris with no money.
Fortunately, before the full implications of her predicament could sink in, they reached the street near the Opera where Milord had his residence in exile – a large house set well back behind black wrought iron railings and an imposing gate. A man was stationed in a small hut just inside the grounds, and he promptly unlatched the gate when he saw the cab pull up.
‘Wait a moment, cabbie,’ Hetty said with all the authority she could muster, and approached the gatekeeper. She showed him the visiting card, apologising profusely for its being torn in half as the man peered at her suspiciously.
‘What name shall I give to Milord?’ he asked.
‘Err… tell him Monsieur Leo, the artist he was with this afternoon, has accepted his invitation after all.’ She knew there was no point in referring to herself as ‘madam’ whilst dressed as a man.
It seemed to take an eternity for the man to return from the main house, but his step was light and he went straight up to the cabbie to pay the fare while Hetty breathed a sigh of relief. Even so, she was filled with trepidation as she followed the gatekeeper up the gravel path to the great oak door. There were lights in all the windows and she could hear music drifting from inside the mansion. When the door opened and the full impact of the scene burst upon her senses, she let out a gasp of amazement mingled with fear, for she had never seen such a gathering in her life, not even at Longton.
There were about thirty men in the room, some in fancy dress and others wearing more sober evening attire, and mingling amongst them were women whose bold demeanour, heavily painted faces and revealing clothing suggested they were all ladies of the night. But she hard
ly had time to feel out of place when Milord suddenly appeared before her dressed in the elaborate costume of an eastern potentate with a jewelled turban perched on his head.
‘I was told to expect my new friend, Leo, the painter,’ he said, his wry expression suggesting he knew exactly who was standing before him. ‘Instead I find his younger brother has paid me a visit. How delightful. I trust your brother and his lovely wife are well?’
‘Very well, thank you, Milord. Leo told me you would not mind me taking advantage of your generosity in this way.’
He laughed in a richly mocking tone. ‘Now that all depends,’ he said archly.
‘On what, Milord?’ She tried to conceal her anxiety.
‘On whether you are going to be a good sport and join in our fun and games.’
‘Oh yes, I shall indeed,’ she declared with all the enthusiasm she could muster.
‘Then first we require you to dress more suitably for the occasion. We have more men than women here tonight, as you see. I trust you will not be averse to dressing as a woman to even up the numbers? I am sure we can find you some suitable clothing. Therese!’
A woman standing nearby instantly broke off her conversation and floated to his side. She was wearing a low-cut gown that revealed most of her full bosom, and her legs were shamefully visible beneath the diaphanous folds of her skirt.
‘Come, chérie,’ she said, taking hold of Hetty’s hand with a knowing smile. ‘We shall find you some costume that will make you look très belle!’
Hetty followed her meekly into an antechamber where an assortment of fancy dress was arrayed on hangers. Therese took her duty seriously, examining various outfits with care before choosing a black and pink bouffant skirt with a black lace corselette, black mesh stockings, pink silk garters adorned with rosettes and a pair of high-heeled black slippers.
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