Innocence and Carnality

by J. Alan Veerkamp

  Until arriving at Delaga House, I’d only seen myself undressed in the mirror, and afterward my exposure to nudity was limited. All this bare skin and voyeurism left an erratic charge under my skin.

  The next room, however, dampened my building ardor.

  Decorated into some poor medical office with an examination table, desk, and outdated equipment—no doubt to be used as props—an older man sat dressed in a child’s bonnet, brandishing a giant lollipop. A staff member dressed as a doctor pressed a listening device to the chest of the “child” without the ends being in his ears.

  “The gentleman is the Chief Magistrate, Zachary Saux. This is his escape from the rigors of his position. Some of us handle stress in different ways.”

  The doctor had the “child” lie back, removing the man-sized diaper as he performed his dubious medical examination, revealing a hairless groin topped by a stubby, hard penis. The man played his infantile role well, arms and legs flailing in the air, even as the “doctor” pulled out a salve and began stroking his smooth erection.

  “Did your nanny ever treat you this way?”

  “I refuse to entertain that suggestion.” My unimpressed tone proved I was not amused by Rother’s idea, or by the disturbing scenario of physician molestation playing out before us. “This man needs professional help.”

  Rother’s normally stoic facade held back a smile. “Looks like he’s getting it.”

  I stepped away from the scene before it could scar me further. The sense of revulsion lessened as seconds passed without it in my view. I centered myself quicker than I would have expected. It was small comfort, but I accepted it. Even after, my hands continued to tremble, so I shoved them into my pockets and turned on my husband.

  “Why are you showing me this?”

  “So you understand our role is more than simply procuring sex for our customers. They give us their money and trust, and we keep their secrets. Men who bury their hidden natures tend to self-destruct in spectacular ways. Not all of it’s pleasant, but it is necessary. It’s a beneficial position for both sides and critical to my success.” Rother sounded more like a cold tutor than a supportive husband, but I was determined to learn all I could. I had never been so horrified by a subject I wanted to absorb.

  “And what do you do with this carnal knowledge?”

  “We’ll get to that. But there’s more. This next encounter is one I specifically wanted you to see.”

  Unlike the sensual mood lighting in the others, the darkened last room gave off a disquieting mood void of implied romance. Various pieces of furniture—many I couldn’t discern the use for—decorated the space in dark leather upholstery. Many pieces had items attached to the dense metal framework. Were those manacles? A circle of wrought iron chains hung in the center like some macabre chandelier. Bloodred walls finished the sinister impression.

  Wearing only a leather hood buckled closed around his neck, an older man knelt on the floor near an odd bench, his wrists fastened to the cuffs dangling off either end. His position allowed him no movement as Alexandra struck him across his bare back with her riding crop.

  “This is depraved.”

  “True. But profitable.” Rother turned a knob I’d missed and tinny sounds came alive, allowing me to hear everything inside. “This room is more soundproofed than the rest.”

  I winced as I saw and heard the next strike across his buttocks as well as the cry he tried to hold in. Dressed neck to heel in an ominous form-fitting suit of leather and straps, Alexandra surveyed the red lines blossoming on his skin, matching others already there. Her bright hair tied back gave her sensuous features a severity bordering on dangerous. Another crack and scream made me jump. The man’s cries were partially smothered by the mask covering his mouth.

  Even Alexandra’s voice took on a more domineering edge, engaging my inner instinct to comply. “Don’t move, I said.”

  I whispered, afraid I’d be heard. “She’s brutalizing him.”

  “No, she’s punishing him.”

  “Why in the world would she do such a thing?”

  Rother huffed in annoyance. “It’s hardly against his will.”

  “He asked for this?”

  “Of course he did.”

  I shook my head in disbelief, yet couldn’t tear my stare away. “I can’t believe that.”

  “You need proof? His cock is hard.”

  I didn’t want to believe it, but Rother was correct. Given the man’s pose and the poor view, I might have missed it, but there it swayed, stiff between his thighs. How could this be possible? There was little else about the man I found remarkable. His physique and coloring were quite ordinary in spite of the awkward situation. Unease ate at my stomach seeing his pale skin shimmer with perspiration and his chest heave with exertion.

  Alexandra paused, her sharp heels accenting her footsteps to the armoire. Opening the doors, she displayed a series of fearsome objects I could only guess about, although most appeared no kinder than the last. These were far beyond the objects Rother kept on the nightstand. The methodical way with which she studied her choices unnerved me. What could she be thinking? I gasped as she finished. The large phallus she chose matched the black leather covering her hands and was far too big to exist on a normal human male. After unstopping a bottle, she drizzled oil over the toy, not stopping until its entire length and girth glistened.

  “You’ve worn this long enough,” she said.

  She reached for the small handle protruding between his cheeks, and he grunted as she pulled out a more normal-sized phallus from his rear. She tossed it to one side and placed her free hand to his lower back.

  “Don’t come or I’ll be very cross with you.”

  Alexandra pressed the larger phallus’s tip to his anus and pushed it inside. Suffocated howls filled the room as she violated his backside. His erection twitched and pulsed, leaking a thread of fluid to join the growing pool on the floor.

  I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. “He’s enjoying this?”

  “For some, the lines of pleasure and pain are a knot that can’t be untied.”

  “How can you know for sure?”

  Rother’s lack of response finally pulled me from the grotesquerie being performed behind the glass. I prayed it wasn’t occurring for my benefit. His brow arched and the malevolent timbre of his voice chilled me.

  “Let’s ask him, shall we?”

  “What? Rother, you can’t be serious!”

  My protest died on my lips as Rother grabbed the doorknob and burst into the room, dragging me behind. The masked man gave a muffled howl at the intrusion, and Alexandra looked less than pleased. Her furious eyes flashed briefly to me, and then she turned her displeasure on Rother.

  “This is highly inappropriate.” While not directed my way, her tone made me cringe.

  The masked man tugged at his restraints, which failed to give him escape. Everything about his body screamed panic. He didn’t stop thrashing until Rother slapped a hand on the top of his masked head. “Calm down already.”

  “What are you doing, Rother?” Alexandra may have posed a question, but there was no denying her demand.

  “Educating my husband. My dear Nathan wanted to understand what kind of man enjoys this kind of play. I saw no reason to deny him the lesson.”

  Alexandra’s eyes narrowed in challenge. “No, Rother.”

  “You’re the one who said I needed to show him more. Are you backing off from that assessment?”

  “That’s not what I meant and you know it. Don’t do this.”

  “You’ve abused this man in the most degrading and creative ways for how many years, and now you’re finding your moral center?”

  The man whimpered behind the leather as Rother reached for the mask’s first fastener. His tremors increased with the quickness of his breaths, along with my sympathy. A deafening drum rhythm crashed through the room, which turned out only to be my heartbeat. Nothing about this moment should have been mine to witness, but fear
held my feet in place. Fear of this bizarre scene and fear of how Rother might react if I ran, given his earnest need to show me all things Delaga House.

  Alexandra grabbed Rother by the wrist. “It doesn’t have to be this way.”

  “It most certainly does.” Rother jerked his hand free and made quick work of the mask’s buckles. The stranger howled as the hood was torn away, leaving him still shackled, naked, and sweating at Alexandra’s feet. “Good to see you again, Arthur.”

  Words fled me at the sight of my father.

  I couldn’t be sure who was more humiliated. “You knew about this?”

  Rother knelt to meet my father’s incredulous stare. “Of course I did. It was scheduled. Why do you think your personal items just arrived? He brought them.”

  Even with his wrists bound and nowhere to go, Arthur shifted in some vain attempt at modesty. A furious blush stained the sheen of his sallow skin. Had I been in Deilia, I would have averted my eyes, but Rother wished me to see this—needed me to see this. It was all part of my Delaga House education. The more I learned, the more my innocence eroded.

  “He’s a regular client?”

  “Be quiet, Rother!” Given his current position, my father’s demands would have been comical if the whole scene wasn’t so unseemly.

  Rother patted Arthur’s head with the fondness of a pet. “Arthur’s accumulated himself quite a debt over the years. Alexandra’s time is not intended for poor men.”

  “Client confidentiality, Rother!” Alexandra’s voice cracked sharper than her crop.

  “Not in this case, my dear. Nathan has a right to understand.”

  The silent communication between Rother and Arthur spoke a litany of truths and tenuous confidences. Their eyes threw sparks of defiance back and forth, the promised threat clear. It was only a matter of who would win out, and my father was at a serious disadvantage.

  Even stunned as I was, I watched for whatever Arthur tried to hide and Rother wanted me to glean. It didn’t take long.

  “You exchanged his balance for my hand in marriage.”

  Rother stood and held my chin with a gentle touch. “We each had something the other wanted. I wanted a handsome, intelligent, and pure spouse to hold on my arm. While Arthur wanted to indulge in vices a nobleman of his good standing couldn’t bring himself to ask for in Deilia.”

  “A business transaction.”

  Why this left me somber, I couldn’t say. It was hardly a revelation. All the fantasies of my youth and their rules and regulations were fast losing their power.

  “Exactly.” He grazed his knuckles along my cheek. “But don’t let that sadden you, my sweet Nathan. You are still the grandest of all prizes.”

  Alexandra raised her voice in interruption. “A word, Rother.”

  “One moment, my dear.”

  “Now.”

  Alexandra gripped Rother by the arm and dragged him aside. The two began to argue over Delaga House’s sanctity of silence and how breaking into the session violated every principle they had. I cared little for the discussion because my eyes were focused on my father.

  “Nathan, release me this instant.”

  Arthur used the commanding tone that had made me quiver as a child. Seeing him tethered and naked, still quaking with the remnants of his eroticized abuse, only left me nauseated. His authority unraveled. I stepped closer, staring down my nose to give him a taste of the irony.

  “Do you remember when I said those same words, Father? Five years ago. The day you locked me in the chastity belt. I begged and demanded to be freed. You refused, of course, telling me it was required because my attraction to other men was sick and degrading. It was necessary to maintain my virtue to be sure some lord in a country far away might someday take pity on me and make me a proper gentleman.” I swallowed at the memories that haunted me to this day. “You called me a blight on the family that needed to be contained to prevent a shame that would doom us all.”

  “I had no choice. Your future was at stake. Now unlock me.”

  I gave a sad laugh through my gritted teeth as a tear rolled down my cheek. “No, you didn’t care one second about that. Your only concern was protecting your reputation like a good little Deilian. Protecting yourself from the perverse inclinations of your son, while you flitted off to Marisol on one of your many business trips to do—” I gestured about the room. “—this.”

  My father yelped as I yanked free the phallus still embedded in his backside. Turning it slowly, I regarded it, my grip steady in spite of my revulsion. It was long and dense in my hand with a weight I hadn’t expected.

  “All the etiquette and protocol forced on me… by you. Your grasp of honorable decorum is deplorable.”

  Arthur’s demands began to border on desperation. “It was your duty. I did what was best for you. The key is in the cabinet. Unlock me, Nathan.”

  I felt a tiny chill as the tear dripped off my jaw. “When I tried to unlock myself from that horrible belt and shamed myself in front of the family and staff, do you remember what you did?”

  My knuckles whitened as I squeezed the dildo’s handle.

  “You beat me, you miserable bastard!”

  His head jerked as I cracked the toy across his face with all my strength. Rage blurred my vision as I bludgeoned my father over and over. I ignored the blood spraying the furniture’s leather and the pained cries of the man who should have been my role model.

  “Does this feel good, you sick piece of shit?”

  Alexandra shouted at me, “Nathan, no!”

  There was no pleasure for him now. Our positions reversed, I wouldn’t allow it. I lost myself, years of pent-up misery unleashing itself about his head and neck. He tried to retreat, but his restraints prevented it, and he crumpled to the floor. I refused to stop.

  The phallus was slapped from my grasp. I surged forward, intent on continuing with my fists, but a flurry of hands pulled me away. When I fought them, the room flipped over in my vision. I ended on my back, slammed to the floor.

  Alexandra loomed over me, pinning me in place. “Stop this instant.”

  Blythe stormed into the room from the open viewing hall entrance. “Fucking hell! What’s all the noise?” He scanned the suite, ending with me. “What the fuck’s going on?”

  Rother stood away from it all, looking oddly amused. “Well… that went better than I expected.”

  “Get off him.” With a growl, Blythe ushered Alexandra aside. Holding my shoulders, he helped me stand and looked me over. “Are you all right?”

  Rother stepped between us, forcing Blythe to back up. “Gather up Arthur Valencus and take him back to his hotel. Discreetly. His business here is done.”

  Blythe appeared surprised at the sight of my bloodied father. “What the fuck happened to him?”

  “He and Nathan had a disagreement.”

  Blythe’s head tilted in curiosity. “How would he even know his father was here?”

  “Get him out of here already. Arthur won’t be visiting us again.”

  Blythe followed orders, if somewhat reluctantly. I stood shivering, muted out of shock, as Alexandra helped my bodyguard remove my father using the secreted entrance. He still breathed and groaned as they unfastened and lifted him from the floor. After the scandalous display I’d witnessed and how I’d reacted to him, I knew it would be the last time I would see any of my family. My father would make sure of it.

  I felt sick, hyper, and exhausted. I wanted this night to end. Rother appeared to have other ideas.

  “I think it’s time we had our talk.”

  With an arm around my shoulders, he led me deeper into the room rather than finding the exit. We passed more sinister furniture as we neared the lit fireplace. Next to it, a formidable frame mounted to the wall made of iron and wood girders shaped in an X sported a series of leather straps and buckles. Rother urged me closer to it with every step.

  A new wave of dread came over me. “What are you doing?”

  “Do you have any
idea how humiliating it was when you left? I had to endure the staff’s gossiping. Questions and whispers of how I couldn’t keep my husband came at me all night. I’m unaccustomed to answering to my employees.”

  The grip on my shoulders intensified as I tried to dig in my heels and refuse to move forward.

  “Rother, stop! Let me go!”

  I thrashed and pulled only to learn how much stronger Rother was than I. He pushed me against the cross, held each arm in turn, and fastened it tight. Once finished, I could barely put space between my chest and the framework.

  “You hurt me, Nathan. You hurt me on purpose.”

  “It wasn’t like that. Untie me this instant.”

  I tried to sound confident, but I heard my father’s voice in my head. He’d commanded me to do the same mere minutes ago and how successful was he? The knowledge quickened my breathing. Each futile effort to pull my stretched arms free only dug the straps farther into my wrists. I imagined that any other time this situation might have left me furious, but my anger bled into something far less useful—fear.

  Since I could turn my head, I followed Rother’s steps to the fireplace. From his inner breast pocket he produced an item no longer than his hand with a sleek wood handle and a flattened brass end with a carved surface. It wasn’t sporting a blade, but the fact did nothing to settle me.

  “What is that?”

  “It’s my personal stamp. You probably haven’t seen it often because it normally lives in my safe, since it’s so important. It’s required as a signature for all legal documents. Especially to legitimize my property rights.” Rother stooped at the fireplace and laid the stamp down inside the hearth so the metal end sat in the flames.

  “What are you doing?”

  “It’s exquisitely made. Hand carved and unique. They have to be, for such a purpose.”

  “Why are you putting it in the fire?” I wasn’t sure why I asked. The answer wasn’t likely to curb the unease slicing into my spine.

  “I want you to understand something. I own the secrets of many powerful men. Men like Head Constable Worthingfield and Chief Magistrate Saux. Secrets so damning they would do anything to keep them from becoming public knowledge. Such as collecting my wayward husband if he decided to ever run off again.”