Chapter 10
I n the six weeks that followed, the branding was completed. Each of five women, Anna, Mona, Milly, Ursula, and the new girl, Jean, had an "S"-shaped scar on her soft left buttock, and all five slept like kittens at night on the straw floor of their Lair.
Even I was surprised at the general lack of protest. They accepted without question, even joyfully, every humiliating limitation we imposed upon them.
"The depth of love," said Kirstin with a strange light in her small eyes, "is the fervor of the assent...."
"They have security, they know they belong. What more could they wish for?" Kirstin said another time. "Don't be a sentimentalist, Saul; otherwise I'll know that you feel insecure...."
I shuddered. I threw myself at once to her soft yielding crotch.
"Face the facts," she said gently. "These women are weak. They want to be loved. Cut out all that rubbish about democracy. There is no democracy in love. One takes; the other longs to be taken. Don't think about what a sexual union 'should' be. See it for what it is. These women have annihilated themselves in relation to us. They have no more problems. They don't exist. Each day they become more like the animals they always longed to be. They have a nice clean cage with nice clean straw, and they're fed regularly, and looked after ... no wonder they love you, Saul! Did you ever know an animal that didn't love his master?"
Cliff knocked at the door and entered the library. He carried his skipped cap with "Keeper" written on it in his right hand. Cliff had come in very useful. It was he who filled their food and water troughs, washed the women down, and kept them well-groomed. Needless to say, it was his privilege to avail himself of any or all of them when he felt like it. I suspect that he did so quite often for he seldom went into town now, even on his day off. He was also allowed to administer minor punishments for small offenses.
"The stockings and garterbelts have arrived, sir," he said. "I was wondering whether you wanted me to fit them immediately?"
"Yes, Cliff. See that they fit well, especially the tops of the stockings around the thighs."
"Yes, sir."
"I'll be down in half an hour, Cliff, to see how they look."
"They'll be ready, Mr. Folsrom." He went out.
I returned between Kirstin's legs.
"What about your fiancee?" she asked.
"I had a letter from her today. We're to be married in Boston on September second and we sail the same day on the America for France."
"What about Lewis? Did she say she had seen him?"
"He's in Boston just now with her. She says he seems to have given up trying to influence her. It's funny. I didn't think he would take it lying down like this."
"What else can he do?"
"I don't know. He knows it would be useless to make the truth of my uncle's death public. He threatened Vivian with that. She said that if he did, she would marry me at once. There'd be no hope of his accomplishing anything then. I'd have every top-flight lawyer in America working for me. That's the advantage of being rich. You can get away with murder. Literally. No, he would only hurry things up if he went to the police about my uncle's death. And anyway, he's reluctant to do so because of Anna."
"What exactly is Vivian worth, Saul?"
"It's difficult to say. She said once that she must have more than seven million dollars."
"And to think it will soon belong to us," Kirstin almost purred. Her hand forced my mouth more tightly against her crotch. "You're a little pig, Saul," she said softly. "You can never get enough of it. Perhaps I'll build a sty for you!"
Later, we went down to the cellars. Cliff was still down there, surveying his handiwork.
The women looked very pretty and well-groomed indeed. Each wore high heels with ankle-straps, black nylon stockings and special sealskin garterbelts. The nipples of each woman were painted a different color, Anna's red, Mona's green, Milly's blue, Ursula's black, and Jean's a grey-silver. They lounged casually on the straw.
Their Lair, inhabited by them for a long time now, had taken on a distinctive odor. It smelled of female, hot, sultry, and slightly oppressive. One had only to smell it to become excited.
"Stand up, you sluts!" Cliff bellowed as we came in.
Ursula, who was not quick enough, received a stroke of the riding crop across her big pearly buttocks.
"Single file!"
The women stood in a line, Ursula, the tallest, in front, and Milly, the smallest, in the rear.
"Now! One, two ... hop! One, two ... hop! One, two ... hop!"
The girls circled us like circus ponies half a dozen times ... one, two ... hop, one ... until Cliff ordered them to stop.
"They're in fine shape, Mr. Folsrom, except that lustful bitch, Anna. She's got the curse."
"Put her in solitary, Cliff. Give her six cuts each day until it's over."
"Come here, you rancid piece of mutton!" he shouted at her. He attached a leash to the collar at her neck and was going to lead her out.
"Just a moment, Cliff. Bring her over here."
I opened my fly and took out my rampant member.
Cliff, gathering my intention, threw Anna on her knees in front of me. She didn't need to be told what to do. Cupping her hands under my testicles as though to catch rain, she took it in her mouth and sucked long and deep with little shuddering grunts of satisfaction.
"Look at her! The dirty little bitch!" Cliff said.
Anna, in an ecstasy of humiliation, moaned softly. Her beautiful red-tipped breasts rose and fell with heavy breathing.
A moment later, my ecstasy leapt boiling into her mouth.
At once Cliff tugged at her leash.
"That's all then! Come on!"
He led her stumbling from the cellar by the leash.
I was just about to go to the dining room for dinner-the new maid, Gloria, had just come to the library to inform me that it was readywhen the front doorbell rang.
Cliff answered it.
He came to tell me that Mr. Lewis had arrived and wished to speak to me. He was in the sitting room.
I joined him there at once.
"Mr. Lewis! It's been a long time!"
We shook hands.
"I've just arrived back from Boston," he said. "I came right here."
"I'm glad you did! I'll tell Gloria to lay another place for dinner."
"All this chopping and changing of servants!" His tone expressed slight disapproval.
"Yes," I said ironically, "it's difficult these days."
"Is Kirstin still with you?"
"Oh yes! I wouldn't let her go for all the gold in China!"
His face relaxed.
"Thank you, Saul. I accept your invitation to dinner. I must talk with you."
"Let's leave it off at least until after the soup!" I said with a laugh.
It was like old times seeing him sitting there at the other end of the long table.
When the fish arrived he began to speak.
"Saul, I want to ask you for the last time to reconsider your decision about marrying Vivian. I am certain she won't be happy with you...."
"What the hell do you know about it!" He was rather taken aback by my violent rejoinder.
"Really, Saul, that's no way to talk to me!"
"You've got a damn nerve!" I said. "You've interfered with me ever since I returned from England. You've insinuated I'm a murderer and you've threatened...."
"But you are a murderer, Saul. You murdered your uncle."
"You said as soon as I arrived that you were willing to forget all that. It's lunacy to hold me responsible for it now!"
"Yes," he said rather sadly, "but I have found it isn't so easy to forget. Especially now that you intend to marry my niece."
"She's not even your niece!"
"She's close enough to be my daughter."
"Why don't you be honest?" I said suddenly.
"What do you mean?"
"I mean stop pretending you're against me because I killed my uncle."
"I don't understand...."
I smiled disbelievingly.
"You knew my uncle very well, Mr. Lewis. The child in me was on the side of the angels when he destroyed Uncle Harris. You know that very well. No, Mr. Lewis. What you're afraid of is the man the child has become. He bears a striking resemblance to his victim. I'm a true Folsrom. I might almost be Uncle Harris!"
He had gone pale.
"So you know then," he said simply.
"Of course I know! Do you take me for a fool? You thought your man, Inez, was trustworthy. You thought he would make a good safe husband for Anna. You were almost in love with her yourself, Mr. Lewis, weren't you? If only you hadn't been a cripple!...."
He winced.
I went on. "Oh, it all became quite clear to me when I thought about it later. I remember your very words: 'Look at Anna, my God! Is she decadent or uncreative?' You loved her then, Lewis, and you suspected my uncle's intentions. You probably offered Inez money to marry her. But you weren't quick enough. My uncle was too quick for you. He was there with his whip and his lust and Anna was sprawling naked under him on the bed before you could do anything about it! No. It took a Folsrom to deal with a Folsrom. I was quick enough at the age of twelve. I knew what to do. And you're thinking that if I was quick and dangerous enough to do that at twelve I must be a very dangerous man indeed now. Is that not it?"
He was paler than ever.
"And then there was Inez," I said with a laugh. "You were frightened of my coming back. Inez didn't give a damn for her, and anyway, he was drunk most of the time. And you got your satisfaction that way. You comforted her. You visited her all the time and she wept with her head on your shoulder. That must have been very nice for you ... all hot and tearful and helpless, crying in your arms! Did you ever touch her thigh, Lewis?"
"You scoundrel!"
"Cut that out, Lewis! It's not even funny. You think if you'd had a man's legs you'd have been so virtuous?"
When he didn't answer, I went on.
"You weren't jealous of Inez. You knew he didn't give a rap for her. But I was different, wasn't I? You fought tooth and nail to get her out of my way. And all the time you pretended you were doing it for her good and mine. What filthy hypocrisy! You! The great American Liberal! You sweated at night, didn't you, when you thought of the possibility of our making love together? But we did, Lewis, we did! Did it never occur to you that I'd be too quick for you? You're an academician, Lewis. You don't know the meaning of action!"
"You're a murderer!"
"Yes, and then I shot your janitor like a dog in the woods,"-I laughed to see the expression on his face-"of course, I had no idea who he was at the time, no ... it was a happy accident!"
"You fiend!"
"Your Anna belongs to me, Lewis! And then, there's Vivian ... I love Vivian, Lewis, and I'm going to marry her, and I'm going to kiss her white belly and caress her soft thighs until they open, and then your Vivian will belong to me, too!"
He was sitting back in his chair now, a broken man, all the fight gone out of him. He stared at me glassily, his face grey and old. His breath came with difficulty.
"Perhaps I put poison in your soup, Lewis!"
He croaked and clutched his throat.
I burst out laughing.
"In another minute you'll die," I said. "You're a fool, Lewis! You're a weak, spineless fool! Come, put yourself beside me. Who is Vivian going to choose?"
I walked around the table and helped him to a glass of water. He breathed more easily after that. But he had reached the end of his tether. He was powerless to hinder me now. And he knew it.
I changed my tone.
"Look here, Mr. Lewis," I said in a friendly tone, drawing up a chair beside him, "you're right about me in one way and quite wrong about me in another. Don't worry about Vivian any more. I'll be kind to her. She will be happy with me. I know what I'm talking about. A man like you has no idea...."
He shook his head hopelessly and without looking at me, and his voice hoarse, almost a whisper, he said: "I don't know, Saul. I don't know ... I must lie down...."
"Of course!" I said. "How thoughtless of me! You must spend the night here!"
I rang the bell.
Gloria appeared.
"Send Cliff to me at once and tell Kirstin to prepare the green bedroom," I said.
A few minutes later, Cliff and I helped Lewis upstairs and put him to bed.
"I'll tell your chauffeur to come back tomorrow for you," I said.
He nodded weakly.
"Go and tell him, Cliff."
Cliff nodded and went out.
When he had gone, Lewis' head fell sideways on the pillow and he said to me: "Can I see Anna, Saul?"
"Of course!" I said. "At once."
I went down to the small cellar and unlocked the door.
Anna was seated on her haunches on the straw, eating food from her manger. She looked up as I entered.
"Lewis is upstairs in the green-bedroom," I said. "He's not well. I want you to spend the night with him, make him happy, do you understand?"
She nodded, her dark eyes adoring and suggestive.
"Not now, Anna," I said, seating myself beside her and stroking her soft belly. I took off her collar and kissed her neck. She rubbed her soft face against mine.
"Go now," I said. "Tidy yourself up and go to him. You must make him your creature...."
A week later, Lewis still hadn't left. He worshipped Anna, and she handled him as she had handled the child in me.
One day she came and told me that he had asked her to marry him. He hadn't long to live. His death would make her entirely independent. She wanted to know what I wished her to do....
It was a quiet little ceremony at which I acted as best man.
"We might as well have his money as well," Kirstin had said.
I agreed. Especially as it didn't seem likely that he would outlast the year.
Before the newlyweds returned in Lewis' car to his own house I took Anna aside and told her I was granting her leave of absence only until the day of Lewis' death. After that, she would return to me, and forever after belong to me utterly. I kissed her tenderly and helped her into the car beside him.
Lewis shook my hand warmly. The poor old man was half out of his mind....
When I returned alone to the estate, a letter from Vivian awaited me. Lewis had written to her, withdrawing all his objections to our marriage and apologizing for his previous attitude. He also told her that he was marrying Anna, and that, Vivian supposed, must have had something to do with it. However, one way or another it didn't matter. She loved me and was going to marry me and could hardly wait those few weeks that now remained between the day she wrote and September second when we would be man and wife.
As I laid down the letter I noticed two cuttings in the envelope. I took them out. One had been clipped from Mademoiselle and the other from Vogue. Both mentioned the coming marriage of the lovely debutante of two years ago, Vivian Lewis, and predicted that our marriage would be the marriage of the month.
I put down the cuttings thoughtfully. It had occurred to me for the first time that Vivian was a very well-known young woman. Wherever she was, there would be constant visits from lawyers and other highly dangerous people. Simply to remove her to the cellar on our return from Europe, to cut her off from contact with the outside world as had been done in the case of the other women-those women had been carefully chosen because they had no living relatives who were likely to wonder about them-might be very perilous indeed. I knew only too well what old family lawyers were like. They were inquisitive, and they were suspicious of anyone who had anything to do with their clients, and quite often, they took it upon themselves to protect their client against himself. Suppose Vivian's lawyers became suspicious at her almost complete disappearance? Suppose they sent down a private investigator and that he discovered the Lair? The thought made me turn cold. And yet, was it possible to do these things by half-measures? Anna was safe enough. The links between herself and myself were too strong to be broken. Even if she changed her mind and decided to set herself up independently on Lewis' death, she would not give me away and it would be relatively easy to tempt her back into the fold. But Vivian was entirely different. She was a young woman used to having her own way, in love for the moment, to be sure, but essentially a free spirit to whom none of the ordinary doors were closed-travel, romance, luxury; these were hers for the asking-and was it likely that she would sacrifice everything to become one of the naked beasts in the cellar? Each of the other women had been essentially insecure, hiding behind mere prettiness, coquetry, grim morals, and in that insecurity lay the key to their self-abasement. They had delivered themselves over entirely to the will of another, like subjects of a totalitarian state, women deprived of a real God, victims of their own fatal isolation. Conflict had died with responsibility. They were "free."
But Vivian, what of her?
Was she-a young woman in perfect health, an acknowledged beauty, with more money than she would ever know what to do with-was she afraid of the responsibility of being herself? Did she too experience a lust, a deadly craving for the amorphous?
Much as I should have liked to think so, I thought it highly un- likely. Not yet certainly. In ten years' time, perhaps, if she had not by that time accepted the painful reality of being an individual, if deceived, disappointed, and powerless even with her great wealth to attain inner peace, she contemplated with the insane courage of a disillusioned woman of thirty the possibility of "dying" to herself in subjecting herself utterly and irrevocably to another's will-as I knew well from my own experience, there was an obscene attraction in this-perhaps then....
But meanwhile?
If I retracted nothing and returned to the estate with her, I should either have to go through with it and trust to my own and to Kirstin's strength to dominate her completely (and apart from the possibility I had a strange reluctance to do this) or simply inform her of the presence of the women in the cellar, saying that they belonged to me, were, as it were, my personal property for which I was responsible, explaining to her what after all would be the truth that it would be the crudest act of all to give these creatures back to their own dominion?
Could I make her understand this?
Perhaps.
But what about Kirstin?
I was at last face to face with a problem which had been becoming real to me for some time past. Since handling Lewis in the way I had, I had felt a peculiar inner strength take root in my soul. I was beginning to recognize the dangerous truth that I was no longer entirely dominated by Kirstin. She had given me too much scope, too much responsibility. I had learned a great deal from her but there was no doubt that she had made a grave mistake in not dominating me utterly. "The depth of love is the fervor of the assent...." She had said that herself, and yet she had failed to keep alive the fervor in me. She should have looked to my humiliation with more system, with more purposiveness. Why had she not branded me? Why had she not lacerated my body and humiliated my soul? Obviously because she wished to use me as an ally in gaining control of Vivian's fortune. She had felt that for the time being at least she could not risk destroying my individuality utterly. Well, that had been a mistake, and a woman in Kirstin's position could not afford to make that kind of mistake. If she were to have said: "Saul, I am now going to do so and so to you, for your own good, to free you from yourself,"-no. It was too late. She should have struck sooner. To subject myself would have required a considerable effort of will. I was skeptical. I had ceased to be her creature. Kirstin had lost control....
It was sad, very sad, but the truth was that Kirstin's presence in the house, unless she could accept an inferior position, a position somewhat similar to that of Cliff's for example, would complicate matters unnecessarily when Vivian returned with me. But would she accept such a position, and, more urgently, had I any particular use for her in an inferior position? How could I trust her ambition? Well....
The alternative?
I thought about that for a long time. I came to the regretful decision that as she knew too much Kirstin had to die.
As soon as this conclusion had been forced upon me, the very thought of putting my head between her hot white thighs even for another night revolted me. I had changed. And yet, if I did not act as usual, prostrating myself before the foulness of her body, she would be quick to realize that she had lost control. She would be desperate, and the desperate are dangerous.
A slow flush crept to my cheeks. It had occurred to me that she had to die at once!
I walked across to my desk and loaded the small Mauser which I kept there. I had no soon dropped it into my pocket and crossed the room once again towards my armchair when the door opened.
It was Kirstin.
She surveyed me curiously with her small, dangerous blue eyes.
"What is it, Saul? You look upset." I laughed nervously.
"Nothing much," I said. "The strain of all this business with Lewis, I suppose."
She came into the room slowly and sat in her usual chair. When I looked at her again I saw that the heavy thighs were exposed, white, meaty, and slightly flatulent. She had raised her skirt to her navel, showing her hairy crotch.
"Come suck," she said. "I want to talk to you."
I moved over obediently and sat between her enormous thighs. She took me by the hair of the head and thrust my mouth against it.
For the first time it tasted sour. Try as I would, I could feel nothing but uneasiness, uneasiness tinged with revulsion. But I acted as if I were in ecstasy, moaning with pleasure and breathing deeply.
"That's it," she said persuasively. "There's my little pig!"
I redoubled my efforts.
"I'm taking you to the cellar, Saul. We have business....
I pretended not to hear her and my tongue slipped in between the hair-trimmed lips.
And then I felt myself dragged away by the hair of the head.
"Down to the cellar, Saul!"
I did as she told me, walking in front of her down the stone stairs. At the bottom I waited for her. She directed me to go to the small cellar at the end.
The first thing I noticed was the brazier and the brand.
"You knew it would happen sooner or later, Saul," she said, locking the door behind us. "See!" She lifted the white-hot "K" brand for me to see, and then, with a smile, she pushed it back in the red-hot brazier. "Strip, Saul," she said. "It's for your own good."
"It should have happened sooner, Kirstin. At least a month ago," I said with a small smile.
At once she was on guard.
"What do you mean? Get your clothes off at once, or there'll be no more food for you, you little pig!"
I laughed then.
She was gazing at me with a mixture of fear and hatred.
I slipped the Mauser from my pocket and pointed it at her.
"I'm afraid this is the end, Kirstin."
"What do you mean!"
"You are going to die."
She paled. "You wouldn't dare!" she spluttered.
"You know I'm a killer, Kirstin. You've known it for a long time. You should have taken care not to lose control of me. You have studied power long enough to know that."
Her face seemed to fall to pieces. She fell to her knees.
"No, Saul! No! I'll do anything! You can do anything to me, I promise, I'll be yours! I'll help you! Anything! Anything, Saul! Please! Please don't kill me!"
"Strip, Kirstin!"
She hurried to obey me and soon she was standing there, big, shuddering in every fold of flesh, white. Her spiders for the first time looked ridiculous.
"Turn around and kneel down, Kirstin."
Shuddering, she obeyed. She thought she was going to be branded.
I took careful aim and shot her twice through the back of the neck. Her heavy torso jerked twitching forwards onto the straw. The blood seeped from an ugly hole just below the hairline at the back of her neck.
"Come in, Cliff, I want to talk to you." Cliff entered the library. I pointed to the whiskey and soda. "Help yourself to a drink, Cliff."
"Thanks."
He poured himself a drink and sat down opposite me.
"I've got a problem, Cliff, and I want your advice."
"Sure, Mr. Folsrom. Glad to help!" I nodded.
"As you know, Cliff, I'm to be married in a few weeks' time. Miss Lewis is a very rich woman, richer even than I shall be myself at the age of thirty when the estate finally comes under my control. You would understand if I said I didn't wish to lose Miss Lewis?"
He grinned.
"Good," I said. "Now, I don't know whether you know exactly what the relationship between Kirstin and myself has been?"
He hesitated. He looked slightly afraid.
"Go on, Cliff. You won't lose by being honest with me."
"I don't know why, Mr. Folsrom, but she seems to think she's got you just where she wants you. She once said to me she had you in the palm of her hand."
"She has, Cliff. And for that matter, so have you."
"Me?"
I laughed.
"Don't worry, Cliff. You're my right hand, you know that. You're too smart to play Kirstin's little game. You know when you're onto a good thing."
"I sure do!" he grinned. "I kinda like being a Sultan."
I laughed. "The harem will grow, Cliff, the harem will grow!"
"Can't ever get too big for me!" he said. I filled his glass.
"That's why I like you, Cliff," I said. "You and I are birds of a feather, eh?"
He sniggered, relaxing. "Sure," he said, "you and me know what we want!" He stopped, a thought striking him. "What's that bitch up to? Blackmail?"
"Right," I said.
He swallowed his drink.
"If you don't pay up, she stops the marriage. Is that it?"
"Just that," I said. "That's the problem. Now, before you say anything, I want to go on. When I return here with my wife, I think I can get her to accept the women in the cellar, you understand?"
He whistled.
"I'll have four months to work on her. But if she found out before I was good and ready to tell her, it'd be all up with the marriage."
"Sure. I get it. I wouldn't've believed any woman wanted to be in that cellar, but I know different now. I take my hat off to you, Mr. Folsrom."
"There's strange things in this world, Cliff."
His face was hard. "What are we going to do about her, Mr. Folsrom?"
I walked over to the safe and returned with a bundle of notes. I tossed it into his lap.
"That's two thousand dollars, Cliff." I took the Mauser out of my pocket and laid it on a table by his side. "In five minutes we are going down to the cellar together and each of us is going to shoot her just once. That way we can trust one another, do you understand?"
He nodded his head nervously, fingering the money.
"Sure, I get you, Mr. Folsrom."
"Then we'll dig a big hole and fill it with half a dozen of those bags of quicklime we've got in the garage, and we'll cover her up, and that will be that. There's no danger, Cliff. No one ever comes near the estate since Inez died."
He nodded. He licked his lips.
"Take another drink."
We drank together, clinking our glasses.
"To a corpse," I said.
He laughed nervously.
"There's nothing to worry about, Cliff, you understand? Money talks. When I'm married to Miss Lewis we'll have more money than we know what to do with."
"Yeah ... yeah ... sure...."
"Let's go then. I locked her in the cellar an hour ago."
I lifted the Mauser and we went down the stairs, the same stairs which Kirstin had descended for the last time a little over an hour before.
When we reached the small door I said: "I'm going to shoot first, Cliff. Then I'll pass the gun to you and you'll shoot. Got it?"
He grunted assent. I could feel his nervousness.
I opened the door slightly, cautiously and fired at Kirstin's body which I had propped up in a chair. I passed him the gun. He leaned forward nervously, glanced once at the woman he supposed was his victim, and fired. At once he leaped back into the passage. I peered in.
"Good for you, Cliff! You got her right in the back of the neck!"
He was standing with a stupid smile on his face, still holding the gun. I took it from him and put it into my pocket.
"Now go and find a good place ... the center of the copse would do. Do you know it?"
He nodded.
"Make it deep, Cliff. I'll get the body ready for carting out there. It'll be easier in two bits."
Cliff vomited.
I patted him on the back.
"Don't let it get you down, Cliff. Go on now, and let's get this over with...."