Subject: FANTASIA: The Screams of the Dove - Part Two
From: an117711@anon.penet.fi

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                   THE SCREAMS OF THE DOVE
                       by V.P. Viddler
                          Part Two

    "And now you know, sir, why I am in this position. And why I
was instructed to tell you my story."

   "Yes. So that that account of your brutalization, your
victimization, your submission, and your agony should stir my blood
to a point at which my lust for you--and for your pain-- would
conquer my patriotism."

   "That is what our captors had in mind, I am certain."

   "And, as you to your misfortune know all too well, that plan was
successful, was it not?"

   "It was, sir."

   "Your performance was most enjoyable, I must say. Truly--if I
may--delicious."

   "I will not, sir, thank you for that compliment, for any skill
I may have demonstrated in regard to that humiiating act was
acquired with as much compulsion as was my doing of it."

   "I know that. But I cannot but marvel that suck exquisite joy,
such almost fantastic pleasure as that which was given, however
forcibly, by your--if I may--your truly luscious mouth, could have
come about as a result of that most horrible anguished pain with
which you have so arousingly--the accout of which, I should in fact
say--so arousingly entertained me."

   "But you must know that it is the truth, sir, for as I have
said, and as our captain has corroborated, I was, prior to my
arrival at this place, utterly virginal. That long and, as I would
have thought, truly insupportable course of training--which is what
our captors are pleased to call it--training, or persuasion, or
anything but what it is--torture, horror, inhuman suffering and
degradation--that awful training has taught me, most forcibly, to
be skillful at what I must do, always. For it is intimated, if not
said outright, that the giving of pleasure will limit, will
minimize, that agony to which I must always look forward. Of
course, that is not always the case. At times, no matter how I try,
no matter how skillful I am at satisfying all their lusts, all
appetite for debasement and humiliation and submission, still that
yet stronger appetite, that hunger for my pain, my agony, that
desire to watch my helplessness and suffering, will not be put
down, and all my efforts to assuage are in vain. And still I must
try. I must submit, always, to do what they want of me; for it is
unthinkable, impossible, that I should not grasp at any small
chance, any tiny possibility, of avoiding, even of postponing, any
part, any small bit, of the things that are done to me; that fact
rules my life, my brain, my soul. Of what is done to my body, you
have heard part of it in detail, and part only in summary; and part
of it you as yet have not known; although I have no doubt that I
will be told to recount it all to you in time. This is why, sir, I
am able to acquit myself with such skill as I may, in acts such as
that which I was required to perform on you."

   "And that, if I may be so bold, is why I was told that you will
do for me--anything. Is it not?"

   "That is why."

   "And will you?"

   "You put me, sir, in a most difficult position. It is, I must
suppose, obvious to you that if my choice is to submit to you in
all things or to be again put to torture, I must, as you know,
submit."

   "As I have known."

   "As you, as you say, have known. That, indeed, is why our
captain could promise you my docility. I shall, I must, do
anything, I stress again to you, sir, anything to avoid what will
be done to me. And thus, sir, if it is my docility, my obedience,
my subjection you wish, you shall, as you are told, have that for
as long as you want it."

   "That is most gratifying, I must say. Most gratifying, and most
tempting. For it is not to be gainsaid that your charms are most
attractive. You are a beautiful woman, Miss Lorna; and no man would
fail to desire your favors. Your face is a vision of angelic
loveliness; you possess an elegance and a grace which stir a man's
blood, if I may so say; and, although I am not, alas, in a position
to fairly appraise the glory of that luscious body, I am most
positive that it, too, is a repository of delights that would warm
any man's blood. I am sure of that."

   "As for that, sir, I cannot say. You will, no doubt, if you
wish, find that out for yourself."

   "Indeed, I might have found it out, as you say, earlier today,
when you inquired as to whether you should undress, if you recall,
previous to your--doing what it was that you did."

   "That is so."

   "And I suppose I could find it out, for that matter, now, if I
wish to do so."

   "That is so. For, as I told you, I am, sir, in your power. I
have no alternative."

   "Again, Miss Lorna, I must say you afford much gratification.
And yet, I must tell you, it is not only your body which is
arousing to my thoughts--to my lusts, if you will forgive my
bluntness--in this strangely unusual situation in which you and I
find ourselves. It is, that is to say, not simply the fleshly
delights, sumptuous and fabulous though they most indubitably are,
which attract my strongest curiosity; not just carnal satisfaction
which arouses my blood and, I must admit it, allows me, if not
compels me, to play into the hands of our captors, and to furnish
them with all that information which they would extract through
this unique ploy. That, assuredly, has its temptations, but it is
not my main, my central, my overriding motivation. What that
driving motivation may be, I am sure you will have, by now, an
idea."

   "I am afraid, sir, that I can have no doubt of it."

   "Of course. And this idea, I can well understand, cannot, shall
I say, fill your soul with joy."

   "Hardly, sir. In fact it fills me with, as I'm sure you know,
horror, terror, and dread--to put that in ordinary terms which
cannot truly be told in any words at all. It fills my throat right
now with such awful fright that I can barely talk. And yet I must.
It is so horrifying to my mind, to my spirit, and to my body, that
if only I believed it would do any good, have any possible effect
upon your decision, I would plead with you, with all my strength,
to consider what it is you say. I would, sir, go to my knees and
most humbly, most abjectly beg for your mercy. I would promise you
anything you desire of me, anything I could do, could give, could
in any way bring about to please your smallest whim--except that
you have that of me now; and nothing I can do or say will, I know
to my most profound horror, give you pause. I am, sir, yours."

   "You are correct, Miss Lorna. I must ask you to forgive me if
you can; but the fact is that from that instant, this morning, when
I, sitting in this room, heard you screaming; heard, to my, I must
say, guilty but excitedly appreciative delectation, those shrill,
agonized, frantic, desperate, ear-splitting yet absolutely
delicious, to my mind, sounds of pain, anguish and truly inhuman
torture; from that moment, I say, that sound has remained a part of
my consciousness; has rung in my brain with that melody, rhythm and
harmony usually associated only with music, music of the highest
and most rarified spiritual essence. That shrill music of pain will
not abscond from my thoughts, or from my blood. It has filled my
soul with but one single thought, a bright, particular craving, to
which all--all--is subordinate. Patriotism. Honor. Gallantry.
Consideration. Sportsmanship. Humanity. Nothing, nothing will stand
up to it. You know, do you not, Miss Lorna, what that importunate
desire is."

   "I am most afraid I do, sir."

   "It is, Miss Lorna, nothing more--or I should say nothing less,
for undoubtedly there is, will be, more--than to hear that sound
again. To hear those screams, those marvellous, awful screams--
again. And again. And again."

   "That, sir, is just as I had thought. Is there, sir, I must ask
you, is there nothing--nothing at all--that I can do to allay, even
to diminish, that wish?"

   "I am most sorry, Miss Lorna. Hypocritical as that must sound to
you, I am truly sorry for you. But the fact is that, having been
given by our captors this unmatchable opportunity to absorb, to
witness, to participate in such pain as I may wish to impose upon
you, I find it impossible to pass up. It is, as you know, your pain
that I want. It is your frantic agony that I look so forward to
experiencing, and this time in an activist position. Nothing in
this life, Miss Lorna, has made me as ecstatic as your screaming
has done; and nothing but that ecstasy can satisfy me now."

   "I could, sir, if it is my screams that so pleasure you, scream
for you on command. I could scream for you any time you may wish,
and my screaming, I promise you, will sound as painful, as
agonized, as shrill and frantic as you might wish. Thus any
necessity for actually putting my body to torture would be
superfluous."

   "Alas, I do not, in all truth, feel that in that circumstance
your screaming would have that authentic, that realistic sound
which--"

   "Oh, sir, it would, I swear to you it would! I will scream, I
will shout, I will emit such sounds of horror and unfathomable
agony as to sear your soul. I will, sir, cry, sob, plead for mercy,
so that if you should close your eyes you would think yourself back
in this room this morning, listening to my anguish; and, sir--"

   "Please do not go on with this; I assure you it can do no good.
For you will surely understand, Miss Lorna, that my lust has soared
beyond just desiring that sound again, however sweet that may
remain. For as I sat in this chair, listening to your marvellous
shouts, I could not but envision what was happening to you at that
moment. And, further, when, later, you narrated to me, as that
captain had commanded you to do, the details of that morning--that
violation of your body with the pins, which you recounted so
accurately and so thrillingly--and then your narration of all those
other things that you had undergone--that hanging by your hair;
that binding of your wrists and legs; that talk of whipping and
burning; that account of you, in your anguish, finally constrained
to bare your body, and to submit, nay, to ask for, and to
participate in, your own violation, shame and degradation--all
this, most naturally--or unnaturally, if you will, it is not for me
to say--all this could only build up in my soul an overwhelming
lust to be myself a part of such a scenario. I must, Miss Lorna, I
must and I will, watch with my own eyes, watch and listen and
enjoy, as you hang in agony from your bound wrists; watch as your
body, naked, helpless, whip-marked, swings from that taut rope,
straining, twisting, writhing; kicking vainly; listen as you, in
the midst of that wonderful screaming, beg and plead with frantic,
frenzied desperation for surcease, for a moment's pause, for mercy,
which is not, Miss Lorna, forthcoming; thrill as I, I myself, push
the long thin pins deep, deep into your aching nipples, or press
the glowing red-hot cigarette against that soft, vulnerable,
squirming flesh. Again and again and again. And only then, Miss
Lorna, only after many hours, after you have gotten hoarse from
pleading so frantically, so vainly for mercy, for surcease, finally
for death if nothing else; only at that time will I allow you to
show your, as you call it, docility; will I allow you to please me
with your body, at my command; will I allow you to utilize, for my
entertainment and at my whim, that fine, skillful mouth which I
have today found such a soothing source of delight; as well as
those other parts of your luscious body which I have not as of now
partaken of. Can you understand that, Miss Lorna? Can you resign
your body and your soul to this difficult vicissitude?"

   "I can, sir, understand; but, alas, I cannot resign myself. Not,
as you know, that I may choose. But, sir, have I not shown you
today that I will submit myself to your lusts; that my body and my
will are at your command? Did I not perform for you, and with the
captain looking on, that most humiliating, shaming, spirit-breaking
act? Did I not offer of my own will to take off my clothes for you;
and did I not go down on my knees to you; and did I not most
totally serve you with my mouth, my lips, my tongue, and my throat?
And did I not, as you gave up to me that fruit of your passion,
swallow it down, swallow until I had drunk it all? What more must
I do, sir, I ask knowingly in vain, but what more can I possibly do
to abase my spirit, to make of myself nothing but a slave, a
plaything for your pleasure?"

   "Nothing, Miss Lorna. There is, as you say, nothing."

   "But still you will--"

   "But still I must have your pain. To the utmost."

   "I see."

   "I know you do. I'm sorry. But do you know, Miss Lorna, your
astounding recapitulation of your actions on that occasion has
awakened my importuning lusts once again. As, I think, you could
discern if it were not for that tearful mist which you appear
unable to dissipate. That recapitulation has, unsurprisingly to my
mind, aroused a most strong urge to have you do that again, all of
it, just exactly as you did it earlier. Can you wonder at that,
Miss Lorna?"

   "No, sir. And, if you so wish, I will, of course, do it again
for you."

   "I do wish it. But, I think, with one variation. I do wish you,
this time, to undress for me. First. Do you recall, Miss Lorna,
how, when you saw that I had given in to our captain's terms so
that I could gain my will of you, and saw that to obtain any
possibility of escaping instant persuasion, you must do as our
captain had promised me you would, and had thus so reluctantly but
so gracefully and proudly risen from that chair and stood before
me--do you recall how you then asked, hardly showing an iota of
your shame and humiliation, if you were desired to undress? And do
you recall how the captain, wishing to draw out and to emphasize
your submission, and to further mortify your spirit, said, as in
reply, Do you mean, first? Thus bringing out into the air, so to
say, the rhapsodic fact that now you had shown yourself prepared,
forcibly though it was, to submit to that act at which you had at
first hesitated. And do you recall how you, for your own reply,
knowing that you were, perforce, acknowledging that fact, that
submission, lifting your head, lifting your eyes, said, splendidly,
Yes. First. Do you recall that, Miss Lorna?"

   "I do."

   "The captain, having thus gained his triumph, passed your
inquiry on to me. I then, not wishing at that point to burn all my
bridges at once, put, in my turn, a question to him. Do you recall
what that inquiry was?"

   "I do, sir. You asked him if I could still--later."

   "That is the form my inquiry took, that is right. And what did
it mean, Miss Lorna? I ask, you understand, simply for the pleasure
it gives me to oblige you to answer."

   "I understand that fully, sir. It meant, as I took it, that if
you did not command me to undress at that time, you would wish to
retain the option of making me do so in future."

   "That is quite right, Miss Lorna. And, our captain having given
this assurance, I chose to enjoy your ministrations with your body
still fully clothed. But now--stand up, please, Miss Lorna."

   "Is this satisfactory, sir?"

   "It is. And now I would like you to ask that question again,
just as you did earlier."

   "Yes, sir. Do you wish me to undress?"

   "Do you mean--first?"

   "Yes. First."

   "Ah. Thank you, Miss Lorna. This time my answer is yes. Yes, I
do wish you to undress. I am now anxious, most anxious, I will say,
to look at that body naked. To watch you as you take that clothing
off for me, baring yourself to my sight. Will you do that for me
now, Miss Lorna?"

   "I will, sir, if you wish it."

   "I know you will. Reluctantly, though, is that not so?
Unwillingly?"

   "Indeed, sir, yes. But I think you will enjoy it all the more
for that, will you not?"

   "Of course I will. How perspicacious of you. I will thoroughly
relish every moment, every move, every inch of bared skin as you
strip that body as I watch, knowing how degrading it is for you,
knowing how you, by your own actions, are allowing your spirit to
be ground into dust, knowing how you debase yourself in front of me
in vain hope of pardon, knowing how your mouth, your body, will
labor to bring me joy with your own destruction, all to postpone
that time of screaming, writhing, helpless torture to which I look
forward, and the ecstatic vision of which will turn in my mind, and
the shrilling sounds of which will ring in my ears, as you bow to
me and caress me with that fabulous docile mouth. And now you may
begin."

   "Yes, sir."

   "Slowly, please. Ah. Such skin. Such breasts. Such nipples. Such
legs. Such thighs. Such calves. Such buttocks. Such a body."

   "It is, sir, yours."

   "I know that. To hurt."

   "If you wish, sir."

   "Kneel. As you did before."

   "Yes, sir."

   "That is good, Miss Lorna. That is wonderful. Slowly, please.
Just do it slowly. And as you do, I want you to think of what I'm
going to do to you. I want you to think of hanging by your hair.
Screaming. I want you to think of hanging by your wrists, first
with your legs spread wide, ankles bound far apart, body straining,
taut, stretching, throbbing; and then just hanging free, kicking,
thrashing, twisting, as I push those pins into you, painful,
agonizing pins sinking so slowly, so relentlessly into your
breasts, again and again, as you scream and squirm and shout and
writhe and yell and twist, so good, screaming, yes, take it,
begging me to stop, now, do it, swallow it, now, screaming for me
forever, AH AH AH..."