The Department of Hate - A Love Story

by Anthony O'connor

  Adrienne waited for him to stop. She timed it carefully waiting for just the right moment. Then she spoke to him sternly

  “This is my friend Mistress Katrina. She’s going to give you a caning and you’re going to enjoy it.” Their victim didn’t say anything; he just hung his head, his expression impossible to read. Cassandra went to a stand at the side of the room and retrieved a cane and then moved into position behind the hanging man. When Adrienne nodded to her she swung it carefully, slapping it fairly lightly onto his buttocks. He winced. Adrienne looked at her, encouraging her

  “Ok, again. Harder this time.” Cassandra hit him again and then a few more times. She was impressed with how good an impact she could get with a relatively mild stroke. Adrienne indicated that she should keep going. She hit him more and more, harder each time. Now each stroke resulted in a yelp of pain from the man. She was surprised to find that she was enjoying this – well not enjoying exactly, but it was exhilarating in an intoxicating kind of way. She started to hit him harder and harder, faster and faster. He started to scream. Adrienne called out

  “That’s enough” and moved over to Cassandra quickly, to stop her from hitting him again. Cassandra didn’t know what to say. Adrienne let her know with a bemused expression and a shake of the head that it was nothing – not to worry about it. She released their submissive and told him to go and stand in the corner which he did. Adrienne spoke to him harshly

  “You can jerk off if you want to. Then clean yourself up. Someone will come to escort you out.” He nodded uncertainly, trying to hold back his tears. Then Adrienne turned and walked out of the room. Cassandra followed her.

  Walking back down the corridor Adrienne turned to Cassandra with a big smile and said simply

  “Well?” Cassandra replied

  “That was weird.” Adrienne continued smiling

  “You’ll get used to it. That, my love, was just the beginning.” Cassandra was concerned about their client

  “What about him, will he be all right” Adrienne was dismissive

  “That’s what he wanted. That’s what he paid for. He’ll be back. I bet her asks for you personally next time.” They arrived back in the living room. Susanna was there but all of the other girls including the Japanese twins Aika and Eiko were with clients. It looked like it was going to be a busy night. They took their seats beside Susana. She had some music on – something harsh but colourful and vibrant with a steady beat. It set the mood. Adrienne squeezed Cassandra’s hand

  “Hopefully we’ll have lots of customers tonight and you can try one on your own. Be harsh, they love it. That’s what they’re here for, most of them.” Cassandra replied quietly

  “Apparently so.” She caught the edge to Adrienne’s voice as she indirectly referred to the minority of men who came along as dominants. Adrienne didn’t like them at all.

  ***************

  Much later that night Cassandra was walking home with Adrienne. They walked along Kooma Road, looking out over the harbour, heading towards their apartment in North Sydney. It was quite cold and it was a long walk – before long they would get into the habit of just catching a taxi. Cassandra was pondering the events of the evening and contemplating the implications. She’d ended up running two solo sessions and they had both gone well. Her clients seemed to enjoy themselves – though it was hard to tell, they’d both been very quiet. She was pleased enough with the results. She had no doubt she’d be able to keep doing it. She knew she’d get even better at it. It was OK. Adrienne seemed happy. They walked briskly without talking. Cassandra smiled – Adrienne was always urging her to get more exercise.

  North Sydney was usually quite a safe place, even at 2:00 AM on a Saturday morning. But when they came around the final corner into Walker Street they were confronted by three large belligerent men. The men had been drinking and were obviously in the nasty and potentially violent stage. They were out looking for action and stared at the two girls openly and bluntly making no effort to conceal their lecherous intent. One of them called out

  “Hey girls, let’s go back to my place and party.” They blocked the street, preventing Adrienne and Cassandra from moving forward. For the moment they just stood there, waiting. Adrienne snarled at them

  “Fuck off assholes.” It was not the most diplomatic reply possible and not calculated to defuse the situation even if that had been possible – and Adrienne didn’t care anyway. They moved on her. She dropped the first one, instantly, with a snap kick to the groin. She stepped back from the second and then managed a spinning kick, hitting him in the side of the head, knocking him unconscious. The third man had started to move on Cassandra. But when he saw what had been done to his friends he turned the other way and ran off down the street. The first man, holding his groin, started to get up. Adrienne growled at him to stay where he was, and he did. The fight was over. Adrienne turned to Cassandra

  “Are you all right?” Cassandra nodded, without saying anything. But she felt very ill at ease and was looking around nervously. Adrienne tried to console her.

  “Don’t worry. It’s nothing.” But that wasn’t it. Cassandra had the sudden strong sense that someone was watching her and she knew just who it had to be.

  Adrienne called the police who arrived in just a few minutes. She knew these things had to be handled carefully and was well versed in the relevant legalities. She didn’t want to be charged with assault. There were two police officers, both men. They checked the two attackers and then called an ambulance for the one who’d been kicked in the head. He was conscious again, but groggy. After that they took statements from Adrienne and Cassandra. They checked their licences as proof of identity. One of them seemed a bit dubious about Adrienne’s account. The men were obviously drunk, couldn’t she have just walked away. Adrienne replied wearily

  “I feared for my safety and the safety of my friend” and knew to say nothing else. She knew the rules – as asinine and hypocritical as they were. Minimum necessary force. No explicit intention to harm. The police officer could see that she knew all of this. He didn’t see any point in pursuing it. Three large men against two women in the middle of the night. Self defence. The men would be charged with assault. Later they would cruise around the neighbourhood, see if they could find the third one, but that was unlikely. The ambulance left with the two attackers and the police left with them.

  Adrienne watched them go pleased with how it had all turned out. She turned to Cassandra

  “See, no problem at all.” But Cassandra had gone pale and was visibly shaking. She wasn’t reacting to the fight. Across the street she could see the gnome – her imaginary friend from childhood, who just wouldn’t go away. She could never remember his name – no matter how hard she tried. She hadn’t seen him for several months and was just beginning to hope he’d gone for good – though never really believing it. Now here he was, just standing there, staring at her. She wanted to scream. Adrienne tried to hold her and comfort her. She couldn’t see anyone and thought that Cassandra was just upset by the violence. When Cassandra looked up again the gnome was gone. They walked the rest of the way home arm in arm. Cassandra stopped shaking. They didn’t stay up for very long and soon collapsed into bed together. Adrienne was wired and certainly felt like making love but she could see that Cassandra was too upset. They held each other and fell asleep in each others arms. Cassandra dreamt all night long of an evil, terrifying creature, vile, cunning and treacherous - fully intent on dragging her down into the darkest depths of Hell. She woke up screaming.

  Chapter 11 – The Department of Lust

  Jarrod had had a brief interview with Ronove. He had learnt nothing more. Ronove was sullen and resentful but still cautious. His execution could be drawn out indefinitely if he wasn’t careful. Jarrod had no sympathy for him and left him to whatever punishment he had coming. He was keen to pay a visit to Asmodeous. He was very interested in what Asmodeous might have to say about getting out and the hint that he’d dropped. He left Abad
don in the main control room and escorted Cassandra back to their apartment. She wanted to stay there, having no desire to go anywhere near Asmodeous or his Department of Lust. They were sure she would be safe – it was very clear that no one down here was going to defy him. Except Lucifer, possibly, but he was nowhere to be found. It was already late in the afternoon. Jarrod wanted to get there before it got dark. They kissed briefly and then he left.

  Jarrod felt very uneasy as he approached the Department of Lust. It wasn’t too far, being the next building around from his own department, heading in the direction of the Great Hall. He was extremely suspicious of Asmodeous but the demon had claimed to have some vital clue. As he approached Jarrod made the mistake of looking out over the pit - seeing yet again the stream of lost souls pouring down into it, screaming and screeching, flailing about as they fell - but all with the same end result. He shuddered. Abandon all hope, indeed! He couldn’t help thinking that when lost in the Valley of Death it was far, far better to be one of the demons. Then he immediately felt guilty for thinking it. As he came to the front of the building the main door opened and Asmodeous emerged. The large demon came up to Jarrod, put his arm around him and guided him to the door. He seemed to be in an enthusiastic mood.

  "Beelzebub, my old comrade, I knew you'd come. Come in. Come in." Jarrod followed, repulsed by the contact, but ignoring it. He disliked Asmodeous intensely and clearly always had, but if he could be useful he had to be tolerated, for now. It was quite obvious that Asmodeous's affections were completely feigned. Jarrod wondered what his agenda was. He would need to be extremely careful.

  They went through a small foyer which then opened onto a very large and lavishly decorated room. There were dozens of young women lying about on sofas, a few completely nude, the others not wearing much. They were all extraordinarily beautiful. Jarrod caught his breathe. Asmodeous looked on smugly.

  "I only pick the very best." Jarrod looked at him blankly. Asmodoeus continued unperturbed

  "These are just a few. I have a whole mansion full of them." Jarrod noticed on the far side of the room two demons each attended by several of the women. The demons were stretched out comfortably while they were being kissed and caressed by their devoted female acolytes - each of them in turn seemingly oblivious to anything but the need to please. Asmodeous was still gloating

  "I train them well. Of course if they don’t perform, there's always the pit." He laughed quietly and darkly. Jarrod felt distinctly ill at ease.

  As they watched both of the demons rose to their feet. Each of them grabbed two of the girls, throwing one over each shoulder. They then headed off towards the stairs. The two girls left behind seem disappointed - or perhaps fearful. Asmodeous watched on with approval.

  "I do insist that they consummate their activities in one of the rooms above - I have certain standards. Demons rutting – not a pretty sight." He looked at the girls who'd been abandoned. He caught their attention and motioned them to come forward.

  "You might know these two - Adrienne and Michiko - friends of Cassandra I believe." He seemed amused - and to be making a point. It occurred to Jarrod that this was a setup of some kind. What were the odds otherwise! Jarrod looked at the girls as they approached. He didn’t recognise either of them - how could he. They seemed very submissive and subdued - once beautiful and alive but now somehow vacant and empty. They were both wearing brief pink panties and nothing else. He could see that they were, or had been, superbly fit - lean and toned. They still moved gracefully, but with eyes sad and downcast and hope extinguished. They knelt at his feet, legs slightly apart, hands to their sides, heads down, both speaking together very quietly

  "How may we please you Master?" Jarrod didn’t know how to respond. He shook his head

  "Um no, thanks." Asmodeous smirked and then waved his hand dismissively. The two girls scampered off.

  Jarrod stared at Asmodeous with something in between amazement and disapproval.

  "You're running a brothel!" Asmodeous shrugged

  "In a manner of speaking - I do expect a little quid pro quo from my guests from time to time. Mostly though, this is just the end game for my activities on Earth. And to encourage their slavish capitulation to the depredations of lust is just too fucking easy especially these days. Cable TV, lap dancing, internet porn - I’ve got the suckers whipped up into a permanent state of unrelenting frenzy." He paused for a moment but then looked puzzled

  "But you should know all this!" Jarrod shook his head

  "As I keep telling everyone, I don’t remember anything." Asmodeous looked back at him - now with a calculating expression

  "I find that very hard to believe. You're up to something." Jarrod was annoyed but before he could say anything Asmodeous started speaking again, quickly and brutally

  "And I find your disapproving attitude baffling. I used to send you two girls every six months or so." Jarrod blinked

  "What?" Asmodeous sneered, continued to glare at him, almost manically.

  "Yes, it's true. Always dressed in those long red low cut gowns you seem to be so fixated on. Always a certain type ... dark blonde hair, green eyes ...." He was amused and waiting for Jarrod to make the obvious connection. But Jarrod was momentarily lost in some kind of memory - vague and dreamlike. He was dancing with an unknown girl in a long red gown - trying to remember who she was and feeling immensely sad. They were in some kind of ball room - awash in the rich deep cadences of a slow waltz - moving with the music. They were pressed against each other but he couldn’t see her face clearly. He didn't know where they were or who she was. He yearned to see her face, just once. Asmodeous broke into his reverie, he spoke harshly

  "Of course after a few months with you they come back to me broken and useless. I just have them thrown in the pit." Jarrod tried to take this in - asserting with no great confidence

  "You're lying." Amsodeous sneered at him again, challenging him

  "Am I?

  Jarrod was shaken by this revelation. Happy in having gained an advantage Asmodeous spread his arms out demanding Jarrod's full attention.

  "Come, let me show you the rest of my domain." Asmodeous led him through several more rooms - each of them like the first, lavishly furnished and full of incredibly beautiful young women. There were all types, all shapes and sizes: short, tall, thin, athletic, plump - blondes, brunettes, redheads. There was a range of attitudes and reactions: slow, quick, sharp, placid, languorous - but a range clearly bounded. There was no defiance or dissent. All of them were well broken in and clearly traumatized. Whatever ambitions, aspirations and achievements they had in life now uniformly reduced to simply being a part of a beguiling assemblage of pretty smiles and soft curves, flesh available on request. Each one of them, eager, pleading - 'please let me please you'. Each one of them terrified of being found wanting in any way and ending up in the Pit. Jarrod was appalled but couldn’t remain as completely indifferent to it all as he might have wished. It was like being suddenly inserted into some kind of extreme pornographic fantasy - immediate, demanding and all consuming. Nonetheless he made an effort to focus - attempting to assert some distance from it he queried Asmodeous

  “What about female demons? I haven’t seen any yet. Do they exist?” Asmodeus stared back at him clearly astonished.

  “You must be joking. None of us can stand them. Never could. You hated them more than any of us. They’re all at the bottom of the Pit. They were the first ones thrown in. We bound them so they could never fight their way to the top.” Jarrod somehow wasn’t too surprised to hear this. He looked again at the girls around him. He made the remark

  "They're all so young. Do you have any older women?" Asmodeous seemed puzzled by this

  "Why would I?" Jarrod tried to formulate a reason

  "Well, you could ..." But Asmodeous ignored him stating simply

  "I rarely keep anyone over thirty - too fucking ugly. When these ones hit thirty - off they go too - into the Pit." Jarrod was shocked - and could only reply
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  "Seems unduly harsh." Asmodeous turned on him, cynically, furiously

  "You seem to forget where we are?" Jarrod looked back at him, replying slowly

  "Yes, there is that."

  They went through several more rooms. There were some male slaves in some of the rooms - though not many. Jarrod enquired about them. Asmodeous replied casually

  "As I told you earlier some of the demons prefer boys, though I have no idea why. Lucy himself is gay, always has been." It took Jarrod a few moments to make the connection

  "What, Lucifer! The Lucifer! Satan!” Asmodeous was still quite casual

  "Yes, Lucy. He's as gay as the ace of spades. No one cares down here of course. But it does raise an interesting question." He stared at Jarrod carefully. "How is he going to sire the anti-Christ?" He looked at Jarrod suspiciously "Maybe that's where you and green-eyes come into it?" He waited for an answer - though hardly expecting one. Jarrod could sense the danger of this line of questioning and replied carefully

  "I have no idea what you're talking about." Asmodeous stared back at him suspiciously

  "Really? Well, we'll see."

  Asmodeous continued to guide him through a seemingly endless maze of rooms and corridors. There were pretty girls everywhere, most of them nude. But Jarrod noticed that Asmodeous didn’t really seem to be taking much direct interest in the girls. He commented on this

  "You don’t seem too interested in your own merchandise?" Asmodeous for once seemed world-weary and bored - and not just simply depraved. He replied