Rose had been at the roadside for almost three hours, under the cover of a small bus shelter as the heavens opened around her, before the recovery vehicle finally appeared, another forty five minutes lost as the mechanic worked under the hood, only to re-emerge from vehicle’s innards to tell her that it was beyond repair; the only course of action now for Rose, was for him to take it to the vehicle graveyard and for her to start the hunt for a new piece of half dead scrap to get her from point A to point B.
“Yeah, sure, that’s probably not what you want to hear” the mechanic said after giving Rose the bad news. “If you like I can give you a lift into town so you can get a taxi home?”
It took a few seconds for her to compute the distance in my mind, before she realised that she would be further from home than what she was now.
“No, thanks, I’ll just get an Uber from here” and turned immediately to her phone, not so much as getting a farewell as he climbed back into the cab of his vehicle after attaching mine and driving off into the deluge.
Great, 03:00 and no Uber’s in this area, Rose wondered, aloud. Placing her jacket over her head, in a pitiful attempt to keep her hair dry, She began the short walk towards civilisation and buildings. It didn’t take long to hear noise, the sound of music – was it possibly a nightclub? If so, this could be her salvation, there would surely be a taxi here to take the revellers home.
The building was industrial that the noise was coming from, for that there was no doubt. Possibly an old mill from the 19th century, it had the look of being derelict from the outside, but even from across the road Rose could see light escaping from the doorway and almost feel the warmth.
Again, no uber coverage. Damn it. Okay, She wondered to herself, I’ll head in, get a warm drink, perhaps even the type that warms your innards as well as being physically hot, and just wait. Crossing the street, the bouncer that had previously been hidden by the deep shadows of the street stepped to block the way to the door.
“Can I help you with something?”
“I’m just going inside to order a taxi” was my reply to his somewhat aggressive question. With a smile he swung the door open for me and allowed me to pass. As Rose entered the foyer of the building, she heard a very similar conversation from outside:
“Can I help you with something?”
“I’m just going inside to order a taxi” but unlike before, this was a male’s voice and a couple entered behind me. There’s a glitch in the matrix Rose wondered to myself with a chuckle.
As she made my way over to the bar, she noticed how the light was emanating from candles rather than electrical light. The shadows flickered all over the high brick walls of the building. she didn’t make it as far as the bar before the noise of the crowd died down, with the help of hushes from the revellers and a shadowy shape took to the high stage in the centre of the room. Rather than order her drink now, she just stood and watched, almost entranced.
Joel nodded at the pair and walked towards the bar. The space opened up into a large room, dimly lit with candles and with high brick walls. It looked like it should be cold was in fact surprisingly warm. There were leather couches, tables, chairs, and it was well populated, if not quite full.
In the dim light he could make out some shapes of people sitting around, facing a darkened side of the room. He took off his coat and headed to the bar. An androgynous figure turned to him from behind the bar, wearing a leather vest, leather pants and a studded collar. “Good evening, Sir” The voice was decidedly masculine despite the look. “what can I get for you?” Joel surveyed the bar, it was a little different to the usual look. There were no generic brands. An array of single malt whiskies and cognacs lined the industrial metal back wall. Vintage red wine bottles were in a large cellar to one side. Champagne bottles shone form a fridge to the other. Joel swallowed, slightly daunted. “Got a beer?” he asked a little gingerly. The bartender smiled and handed him a small leather menu with a green duck on it. “We have our own craft range, here’s a list”. Joel took the menu and not wanting to read through it all he handed it back. “Gimme the Greenwing Lager.” When it came, he slugged it. The music suddenly dipped and a dull light shone towards the dark area, revealing a raised stage.
The stage was akin to that of a boxing ring. Raised, roped, and with entrances on two sides. It filled the centre of the large, high ceilinged room, with the seating being formed around its four sides. Rose, spooked by the abrupt cut-off of the music, and the dimming lights, almost gasped when the spotlight fell on the stage’s centre. Aware, all too keenly, that she was now the only person in the hall standing, she quickly sat at an unoccupied table and focused on the shadowy character that was on the stage, who then stepped into the spotlight to reveal himself. Masked, in a hideous fashion, he held a mic before him.
“Brothers & Sisters” he began, pausing for effect and to let the hushed voices quieten further. “You are here today to watch, and hopefully enable, our newest inductees test themselves against the challenge to come, and hopefully take their rightful place amongst our ranks.” He paused, coughed, and gestured towards the bar. Everyone turned, craning their necks to look, and saw two heavily set men, both suited, hauling a blonde woman by an arm each towards the stage. She was diminutive, long blonde haired, tanned, and had the body of someone that obviously spent more than the odd hour in the gym.
“Ah Kui, I’m glad to see you are our first tonight. You understand why you are here tonight, and that you will be tested, is that so?” the devil masked man said. Kui responded, quietly, with a nod and then a forceful “yes”. She took a deep breath, staring at the floor, composing herself, before continuing. “I am ready to absolve my soul, to purge it, and to face the challenge laid before me, whatever that may be, to become an anointed member, if only an initiate, and to serve whomever I am assigned to.”
There was a slight pause, then a rupture of sporadic clapping amongst the audience members. “Very good Kui, I am so glad to hear that” the man, who I would later understand was referred to as the Arch-Patriarch, said. The belt, 100 strokes, he said, before dropping the mic, which was wired affixed to somewhere outside of Rose’s eyeline. “100?” Kui said, before stopping herself, by actually placing hand to chest, from questioning or arguing further. A man, and woman, both also masked, entered the stage from opposite ends and began to fix Kui onto a wooden instrument, so that she was facing towards the north end of the stage, face looking away from rose. On her knees, arms were roped to a cross, her neck was tied to the wooden cross directly in front of her, her legs similarly roped to the device she was kneeling on.
It began without warning, both the man and the woman removed their belts, taking it in turns to land blow after blow. The soles of the feet, the thighs, the buttocks, the back, all attacked without pause or break. Kui’s screams filled the stuffy air. She did not say no or stop, however.
Joel suddenly notices 2 large men in suits enter and standby near to him. Between them is an athletic petite blonde, naked. His focus is suddenly pulled towards a woman who stands alone in the space and then suddenly sits on an empty chair. Then to the stage and he watches the masked man play out his introduction. While what is happening is very much what Joel was imagining and hoping, the fact that it was playing out right now, was an intense thrill. He tried to look casual but when the crowd suddenly clapped he almost spilled his beer. He watched the beating take place with admiration for her ability to take it and not stop it, and with growing excitement with each lash.
He felt he wanted to examine the welts and thought if any were bleeding. At the end of 100 lashes, the man and woman approached the girl. The woman leant down, whispering something in her ear. She waited while the girl must have muttered something back. The woman looked towards the masked man and nodded.
Rose was beyond shocked when she saw the welts forming on the poor petite blonde woman’s buttocks. Slowly, after having her shackles removed, she stood, and looked to the Arch-Patriarch that was entering the stage.
“Kui” he said, clearing his throat “you have performed admirably, well above my expectations. But, alas, it’s not my expectations that need to be met” he looked, solemnly, around the audience, turning in all four directions to cast his eyes over them before continuing. “Brothers, sisters, I ask you now to vote, via the App, on whether you believe Kui’s soul has been cleansed, and if she is, indeed as she seems, ready to become an Apostle, or, if your heart so desires, she should be removed from this mortal coil.”
Rose, even from this distance, could see that Kui was not so much trembling, but physically shaking. She didn’t look at the audience, but rather her bare feet. “An eighty percent threshold is needed my dear. I wish you luck. Please vote now” the Arch-Patriarch proclaimed. After only, what seemed like, moments, there was a whistle. The crowd applauded. “I’ve been told you’ve hit well over ninety percent approval. You may now leave.” Limping, Kui made her way from the stage.
Without pause, he exclaimed next, not needing the microphone to cast his voice around all four corners of the room. Like before, another woman was being brought forward, this time of South Asian descent. Unlike Kui, she was being dragged, legs kicking. Screaming for mercy. “Oh Mai, how you disappoint me” the Arch-Patriarch said, barely louder than the woman’s protests. “I think this might be a foregone conclusion, but you are going to feel the pain first my dear.” Like before, the two executioners took back to the stage.
Joel shifted as he finished his beer. His erection rearranged in his pants. With the beer finished, he realised just how long the lashing had taken and felt a sudden, strange pity for the blonde woman who endured it. He also felt relief the crowd voted to keep her, then thought why he did not have the app. He was a paid member after all. He beckoned the barman for another. It was, he suddenly wondered, perhaps the finest beer he’d tasted.
He watched the Asian girl being dragged in kicking and fighting. His eyes widened in excitement. This felt more like what he was hoping he might discover here. Reluctance. Something outside of the BDSM clubs he had been to around the world. Something about this felt genuinely very different. He found himself drawn to the Arch-Patriarch’s voice. It gave him a sense of simultaneous calm and vigour.
The executioners secured Kui to the post, something that took just a little longer than before. Mumbled commentary sprang from the crowd, but Joel could not make it out. And then the lashing began again, randomly placed and incessant. The barman tapped his shoulder indicating his fresh beer. Joel spun around, nodded, then swiftly turned to resume witnessing the punishment Kui was taking. Her voice had risen in protest from yelling to now out and out screaming, which rang around the room. Kui heads jolted around in response to the blows and slowly, gradually the screams subsided for a moment with her exhaustion, until resuming again when she had regained some breath. This time, the 100 lashes seemed so go on for a lot longer. Finally when it stopped, Kui shook, whimpering in a mess on the post. The executioner woman approached Kui, again whispering into her ear. He had to repeat it, twice. Finally she stood and look at the Arch-Patriarch and shook her head.
Rose watched, it wasn’t just horror, but excitement. She could feel the blood rushing through her, as she watched Mai take the belting. Rose was surprised to discover that she was enjoying it. Mai’s screams, her pleading for it to stop, just excited her more. As the ordeal came to an end, the vote was once more held. Shaking his head, the Arch-Patriarch once more spoke into the microphone. “Not a single amongst us believes you have what it takes to join us. You now know what this means.” Exploding into screams, and pleads, once more, Mai was taken by the arms by both of the executioners. Placed in a stockade, arms and head locked into place, her feet kicked wildly, and were left unsecured.
The male executioner, muscles now shining in a shimmer of sweat, left the stage and returned with a long handled axe. Rose knew what was coming, but could not look away. The executioner taunted Mai, showing her the steel blade. holding her head up by the hair so that her eyes could do nothing but look at it. Releasing her hair, and in a swift, double handed motion, the blade of the axe was brought down on Mai’s exposed neck. It took only one blow, in what seemed like slow motion, the severed head dropped to the ground. Blood spurted several rows deep in front of Mai’s body, still locked into position in the stockade. The crowd applauded, several people whooped in excitement.
The Arch-Patriarch inspected the body, and held the severed head aloft, kissing the lips mockingly through his mask before casting it apart. “Ah, a true shame, I really thought she had what it took, but, even I, am seemingly sometimes proven wrong.”
Before Rose’s thoughts slowed down enough to take in the reality of the situation, a short haired woman was being led to the stage, seemingly ignoring Mai’s body still locked in place. The belting continued as before, there were whimpers, the odd pleading, but nothing on the scale of Mai’s protests. Rose felt queasy, nauseous. Surely she wasn’t gonna view a second beheading? The vote came in, just as it had done with the previous women. “62 per cent.” He said, pausing, before then continuing solemnly. “Not quite enough to become an automatic member, but enough to avoid Mai’s fate” he looked around the audience, again adding dramatic effect. “As you know, you will be permitted to join us, but not under, perhaps, the conditions you would have liked”. He again paused, now gesturing for the two security guards to approach the stage. “Lilly. I’m afraid you’re going to need a new name” he said, condescendingly. “Gender reassignment” he said, speaking to nobody in particular. “3 inches, enough to poke but not have any fun” he said, met with laughs from the audience.
Joel watched Mai’s beheading with wide eyed fervour. He realised his jaw was open and almost drooling and he manually lift it closed with his hand, which lingered to see if he had actually drooled. ‘Fuck’ he taught, ‘that just happened’. The image of her head falling kept replaying in his head and he was all too aware his erection felt stronger than ever.
He was trying to process what he had witnessed when he saw the short haired woman up next, Mai’s limp, headless body still on stage in the stocks. Just his type, Joel felt like he had vested interested suddenly. She had to get through, surely. She looked tough enough. He moved forward from the bar to an empty seat to get a closer view. He still enjoyed her shrieks and squirms when the lashes landed.
When the result came in Joel slumped a little. When the gender re-assignment news came, he perked up. Its’ not the end for her. Or for him. Whatever. The Arch-Patriarch waited for the laughter to subside before he spoke again. “Dr Van Doorn? You have a patient.” A grey haired man stood up from his leather arm chair on one side of the ring, raised a hand with his head down to some applause and left the room. The executioners dragged Lily from the ring towards the exit the Doctor took. The crowd buzzed.
“Now, now” the Patriarch said, fatherly. “Before we go into tonight’s festivities and celebrations, we do have one, unscheduled, special guest. There were a couple of gasps of surprise that were audible to Rose. He lowered his head, before, turning in Rose’s direction, he raised it suddenly. “Rose” he said, into the microphone in an almost whisper. Rose’s heart almost exploded from her chest. She quickly looked towards the exit, and saw the two executioners already standing to her side, just behind her. “This is one not from our midst” he Patriarch said, as Rose was taken from under the arm and led towards the stage. “No, she’s an interloper. Tell me dear, are you the police, or perhaps a journalist?” Rose shook her head quickly, unable to discover the word for a denial.
The Patriarch let out a heavy sigh. “Okay, well then you are in quite the predicament. Tell me, and tell me honestly, why are you here?” Rose didn’t answer the question, not immediately, instead asking how did he know who she was. There was no answer forthcoming. “It was an accident, I couldn’t find a taxi, it’s absolutely pissing it down out there and I thought I could seek shelter in here and order a taxi?” Rose said, not quite believing her own story, despite it being very much the truth. “Very well.” the Patriarch said after much wondered. “The axe, or the punishment?” Rose just stared at him in disbelief. Eyes wide, mouth agape. “The punishment?” she said, making it seem almost like a question.
“I’m happy to hear that. Others have joined our order under such circumstances. You will feel the pain, then our members will decide whether or not to admit you. Secure her” he ordered the executioners. Rose wasn’t as much undressed, but had her clothing ripped from her. Naked, blinded by the spotlight, she looked around the audience in confusion, almost falling as she turned on the spot. “Something a bit different now, we’re all so very tired of the lashings, and I simply don’t have the patience or inclination to watch another prove their worth in this manner. Milk, you’ll get the milk treatment.
Rose was led, forcefully to the whipping station, and bound. Unlike the others, she was bound with her back to the post. Taking the lessons of what she had witnessed so far, Rose did not complain, did not plead, she just looked ahead. The female executioner fitted a ring gag into her mouth, tying it behind her head, forcing her mouth open. Next came the funnel. The tube was placed into her mouth, and forced into her throat. Rose found herself breathing heavily through the plastic instrument, but still, kept her composure. Next came the milk. A four pint jug; almost 2.3 litres. Its contents were tipped into the funnel, before she could fully appreciate what was happening, the milk was entering her.
Rose couldn’t breathe, she drank, such as she could, for all her worth. Things became hazy, she could feel herself on the brink of consciousness and then, suddenly, it was over, she could breathe once more and sucked the air into her parched lungs. The funnel was removed, yet Rose remained strapped, ring gag still in place. “Executioner, if you could do us the honour” the Patriarch asked. The muscle bound pain inflicter stood in front of Rose, having removed his trousers. His long, thick member was just inches away from Rose’s face, she could smell him and it. As she looked down at it, following its path towards her mouth, she noticed her stomach. Inflated, enlarged.
“What goes down, must come up” the Patriarch said with a wry smile. A thick arm was suddenly under Rose’s chin, locking her already restrained head in place. The penis wasn’t placed inside Rose’s mouth, more thrust. That thrusting did not stop, even when the milk came back up, covering the stage’s floor. Still, the thrusting did not stop, not until the Executioner was on the verge of unleashing his seed, which he did, by his own hand, into the pool of milk that was now congealing on the stage’s floor mat.
“Drink my dear, lap it up” the Patriarch ordered, as Rose was being untied. “Then we shall have our vote”
Joel watches in a slight daze. Is this… planned? Is it part of the show? He watches as the clothes are torn from your body revealing a slight frame and tiny breast on a small chest. Rose’s long reddish hair was alluring if slightly unkempt from the rain. ‘This is the hottest one yet” wondered Joel, ‘she seems tiny’. He sat up when it became apparent this one would not involve lashing. He looked around, but still found it hard to discern faces or expressions in the dim light around him. He watched Rose being tied, almost gallantly. He watched her puking milk helplessly and wondered he might cum there and then. He heard a woman orgasm in the darkness to his right. He heard other cheers each time the milk spewed from Rose’s mouth, splattering past the large cock in her her mouth onto the stage floor.
When it was over, Joel realised he had hardly taken a breath, much like Rose. As the executioners untied her he watched, hoping that she would indeed lap it all up, almost wanting to help her.
Then he wondered he had to understand how to get the app. He watched as others got their phones out again, their eyes rivetted on Rose.
Rose laped, and fed the milk, mixed in parts with semen, into her mouth, still held open painfully by the ring gag. “Very good, yes, very good my dear” The Patriarch said, standing over her and watching. Rose felt a tap on the shoulder as she finished the last few drops. “Task complete, now we vote” the Patriarch said. Rose’s heart beat in her chest, her breathing was rapid, but shallow. She felt weak at the knees. “95%. Hmm” he let out. “It seems you can’t please everyone.” Rose sank to her knees, in relief. What had she survived? What would be next?
“Okay, settle down everyone” the Patriarch said, as the crowd began to talk amongst themselves, undoubtedly about the strange set of circumstances that had seen Rose face the trial. “Now, as we all know; we have three new acolytes, which means, unfortunately, that we have three too many. Six acolytes were making their way to the stage. Each naked. Each with a monstrous leather mask on, each shaped like a different animal. The six women took to their knees, and the Executioners took their time binding wrist to ankle, with a foot in the back, pushing each to the floor when they were restrained.
“Our volunteers will now have received the app notification. Your services are needed” The Patriarch said, with six men making their way to the stage, removing their clothing at the stage’s foot. The Patriarch left the stage momentarily, and with the help of the two security guards, returned with a large metal chest. “Now, you know we have three too many. Three will become clerics, three will pay the ultimate sacrifice. This is something we all know. We need lucky members, not just obedient ones.” Rose, watched in amazement. Unlike the new members, the six acolytes did not protest, there was no sound from within their masks, their bodies did not waver.
From within the chest, the Patriarch took six pistols. “Three are loaded. Three are not. It is just that simple. Unleash your seed within them. Once complete, pull the trigger. The lucky survive.” The six male members, now naked, each took a pistol in turn from the Patriarch, stood behind the exposed Acolyte, and began to work on getting their member’s into full, erect, working order. “Ah, each man is going for the anus, it seems” The patriarch said to the crowd. There were gasps, even gritted teeth now from within the masks. “The Acolytes hear nothing” the Patriarch continued, even these silenced shots will be unknown to them. Oh, watch how they move as joy and pleasure fills their bodies!” he said, with what seemed like genuine excitement.
“Your moment is almost upon you, your moment is almost upon you” the man to the far right began saying, thrusting himself harder and harder into Acolyte before him. “Arhhh” he said, an obvious signal he was done, before reaching down for the pistol at his side, pointing it to the base of the skull, and pulling the trigger. The back of the head came clean off, revealing the skull and brain. Only then did he retract himself and leave the stage, all without a word. The body, slowly, slumped lifeless on its side. As Rose was watching the man leave, to smatters of applause, she saw the second body slump, directly in front of her. She noticed the semen leaking out of the lifeless anus. Two down, four to go, one will not stand again.
“I’m coming, oh my fucking god, I’m fucking coming” one of the acolytes began to scream, in absolute ecstasy. “this dick is so goo.,” cut off, she slumped forward, and ended in the middle of her orgasm. Rose swayed, head spinning. She felt her thigh, and noticed she was moist.
Joel had worked himself closer to the stage, seeing an empty chair at another quadrant. HE watched Rose with intense interest, how she diligently lapped up the puked up milk and semen, without hesitation. There was something systematic about how you got down and worked hard, even with the gag holding your mouth open. He felt his cock leak precum into his cotton boxers.
The nest round of acolytes was an different prospect. They all had extremely alluring bodies, naked and obedient, quite different from the challenge girls before them. There was some squealing from the hard anal of course, but the protests were mild. Joel watched the brains explode on the 3 that slumped after their men had exploded inside them. There was something peaceful and totally immediate about about he bodies collapsed after the shot was fired. The men slowly withdrew their hard cocks from the clenched lifeless holes and Joel felt a nagging jealousy.
That meant the next 3 would survive surely and knowing that the acolytes were different he thought what their reward, or alternative fate would be. Could it be worse than having a bullet in your head while in pain? Joel could certainly think of many worse things. Time to discover. The Arch-Patriarch approached the last three men about to cum, encouraging them. “You see? They are close!”
Rose was in both shock, and awe. She’d seen the very depravity of man, as a species at work tonight. One of the bodies, lifeless in front of her, still had contracting anal muscles, pushing semen out of it. “You will face the same challenge soon, my dear.” the Patriarch said, startling her. “Luck and chance play a very special part in our world. Each had gone through the challenge, not the same challenge, but a challenge nonetheless, as you have done tonight. Each passed, yet six months after doing so, they met their fate tonight; cock in arse, some orgasming I’m sure, as the bullet shattered their skull, their brain, and took their life.
Rose stood, motionless, in silence. “Have no fear of this yet. You have a busy six months ahead of you, getting that body of yours into the shape that those you’ve witnessed tonight are in”. Rose followed as he made his way off the stage, bending to collect a fragment of her long discarded clothing. “No my dear, no. You won’t earn the right of clothing until you become a Cleric; should you become one” he corrected himself, quickly. “In six months time you will return, after your training, to face the same fate. You, like they were, will be hooded. You will be deprived of your senses for the entire duration of the show. There are but three of you that passed, which puts the odds, I must be honest, very much against you. We will, at a minimum, have three initiates preparing to enter our order in six months time. Should each pass their initiation, whatever their number, then your fate will already be sealed. Three will replace three. Should more than three initiates pass, well, only the three with the highest score survive.”
Rose suddenly felt very cold, naked and alone with these words. “Now, mingle, I bid you farewell, and may the odds be in your favour.” Rose looked around, confused, and paced around the room. “When I pulled the trigger, her fucking ass man, her ass, I swear, it clamped around my dick as I was cumming. It was fucking intense, yeah!” a man was exclaiming to a listening group. “Fucking felt like god man. Odds fucked her, not just me” he said, prompting a couple of sniggers. He’d become erect, talking through what had just transpired, noticing Rose. “Acolyte, come” he waved two fingers towards her.
“I’m going to have my cock in your ass when I put a bullet in your brain” he whispered, slapping her buttock as he said so. “Now, on your knees, and taste a dead girl’s juice” he said, pushing Rose down by the shoulders. No-one within this group, batted an eyelid. Rose sucked, working his cock, whilst he continued “Blew my load, then blew her brain. Fuck man, it was awesome.”. “The odds just weren’t in her favour”, a woman added. “God, I remember when I was in that predicament, one in five chance I had… I took that cock and I just knew I was the one destined to survive.”
The loud mouthed guy didn’t let Rose continue to the finish, he just pushed her away. Rose, perplexed, walked further into the crowd. “The male initiates tomorrow night” she heard a man say. “Two I’ve heard, which is bad news for the two acolytes. If both men pass, well, their last moments in this world will be spent spunking into a mouth before that mouth’s operator presses the button, and boom.”
“There’s worse ways to go, I suppose,” a man added.
Rose was discombobulated, walking from group to group, without any sense of purpose or direction. She approached a couple “he was pounding me, really giving it to me you know. I thought he was going to tear me in two, and then I felt it, I felt him cum and I thought, I thought this is it, you know? I thought the odds weren’t going to favour me, but fuckkkk, that was intense. I fucking came so hard”
“It was me” the man said, laughing. I could tell it was you from the skin tone. You’re not as tight as I wondered”, a nervous laugh
“You’re not as big as you think you are” she snapped back, both laughing.
Rose wandered, in this fashion, not striking up conversation at all, for what seemed like many hours. Eventually, she was led to a back room, where a simple cot was laid out for her. Not even bothering, not able to, strike up conversation with her solitary mate in a similar cot, sleep came quickly and took her. It was almost sixteen hours later, when she was shaken awake, that the reality of the situation once more dawned on her. “They’re coming, take a seat next to the stage” a figure in the dark told her.
Joel watched as the Arch-Patriarch spoke, your naked body on stage, motionless. Milk still dripping down her petite body, pooling around her feet. There was something about the way Rose’s breath had recovered that impressed him, and he noticed her face gave away no obvious signs of fear. The saw the expression when she was told to go and mingle. A definite and sudden vulnerability. He sat for a moment, replaying in his head the brutality of what he had witnessed. Each time he blinked, a new scene replayed in his head accompanied by slices of the sounds he had heard, gunshots, applause, the head plonking on the stage floor, sounds of Rose gagging and retching up milk, the voice behind the hideous mask.
He wasn’t sure how long he had been sitting there but a loud smacking sound pulled him out of the dark highlights playing in his head. He looked round and saw a woman standing over a naked woman who was bent onto a table. The woman standing wore red leather thigh high boots and studded top harness. She was laughing, one hand pressing down on the back of the naked woman, another had still clutching the woman’s arse. 3 men stood around her, 2 in suits, one topless, wearing a collar and leash. They were all laughing. The woman spanked her prey again, then yanked her up by the hair and kissed her, before pushing her to the floor and returning to her conversation with the men. Joel watched as the naked woman crawled away for a few moments then stood up and walked off. He caught himself smiling.
He stood up and headed towards the bar, craving a good, strong whisky. As he walked he noticed Rose on her knees, her distinctive reddish hair bobbing as her head worked another cock. ‘That one must have one fucked up throat by now’ he wondered as he continued.
His path was interrupted by an older couple walking across him. The man had his arm around his partner, both dressed formally, and he led behind him a woman on a leash, her hands cuffed behind her. The woman beside the man had heavy diamond earrings and a black velvet gown. “… going to be especially happy with what I have in mind for us this…” The woman’s voice was swallowed by the music as they drifted across the room. Joel continued to the bar. When his whisky arrived he began to explore the space a little more. He noticed a few guests had thought onto the stage and were inspecting the remnants that still lay there. One was running his hands over the lifeless bodies. Another was on his haunches. As Joel lifted his glass towards his lips he saw another man, on his haunches scoop up with a finger some of the splattered brain and taste it. Joel paused in shock, his glass suspended at his lips, then took a solid slug of whisky, his mouth widening afterwards in response to the flood of strong alcohol and the vision of the man clutching the bulge in his pants as he savoured the taste. A young woman wearing a full-body fishnet outfit took one the lifeless hands and touched herself with it, bending the fingers carefully, and her partner whispered into her ear. Joel emptied his glass with another heavy gulp and placed it on a nearby table, his eyes turning back towards the room. The glass, placed too near the edge of the table smashes to the floor with crack. Joel felt a hundred eyes flash at him as he froze. He lifted an apologetic hand and mouth ‘sorry’ before flashing a weak smile. As the eyes turn away, John is gestured out the way by a man, who suddenly beckons over one of the other acolytes. She approaches. “Walk over that” says the man who indicates the floor. A few people turn back. The acolyte pauses for the smallest of moments then begins a very slow, cautious walk. As the first shard of crystal slices into her foot she inhales loudly. Her weight transfers onto the foot as more shards cut into her. Her head involuntarily shoots up the the ceiling and Joel notices her knuckles clench tightly. The man lets out a few deep growls of approval as she takes two more steps to cross the patch of broken crystal. Her face is streaming with tears, her breath shallow and fragile as glass. The man nods. “Good”. He beckons over a staff member. “Clean this up and get someone to clean out those feet.” He turns to Joel and smiles. “Never apologise. There’s always an opportunity.” He extends a hand. “Hendrik.” Joel meets his hand, saying own name with a curt smile. Hendrik places a hand on Joel’s shoulder. “I have an appointment in one of the private rooms now, but perhaps we can share a drink later”. Joel nods, “Sure… er… thanks, sure.”
Joel watches with interest as guests gradually left towards the corridor leading to private rooms. A woman, the same woman who had placed the white duck badge on his lapel approached him leaning down towards his face. “Good evening, Sir. Unfortunately, as a White Duck member, there will not be any acolytes or other services available for you this evening, but we hope you have had an enjoyable evening. Please relax, we are open for another few hours, and we hope to see you again tomorrow night”. Joel nods along to her, politely. He is partly disappointed, knowing it’s an other night of jerking off, and partly relieved. He wasn’t quite sure why. After a few minutes he gets up and exits the building. His car is delivered within a minute. Once home, he undressed and puts on some porn, an upmarket BDSM site he is registered too. He jerks off for a few moments then stops, shuts his laptop, lies back and closes his eyes, images from the evening steeping in his mind before he explodes. ‘Fuck’ he says to himself out loud. He sleeps.