The Rebel Angels

"– You two were not the only ones to cut a figure in these fantasies, but you were regular favourites. Urky had a weak hankering after you, Molly, and as for Clem, I liked to toy with him to please Urky, because though I fully understand and forgive, I was well aware that Clem felt he couldn't drag me after his splendid career more than so much; one does what one can for old friends, but of course some must drop by the way. Clem did what he felt he could for me, but he was damn certain I wasn't going to be allowed to be too much of a nuisance. So I had some fun with you two, but as you will discover, I have recompensed your real kindness in fullest measure, pressed down and running over.

"– Another favourite figure in the ceremonies was Ozy Froats – always good for a giggle. There were lots of others; Urky's vast spite could embrace them all. But it was only play, you know. The popular sex-manuals urge their readers to give spice to the old familiar act by building fantasies around it. Who would grudge Urky his pleasure, or blame me for ministering to it, when the role of parasite was the only one left to me? Not you, dear friends; certainly not you.

"– Urky liked a good hour and a half of this sort of thing, during which his pleasure mounted, his laughter became harder to conceal under the role of Mrs. Morley. The lewd gossip pricked him on, while the Old Mary Jane held him back. As he talked and listened he worked his legs up in the deck-chair and his dressing-gown fell apart so that his bare bottom was to be seen. That was the cue for my culminating sequence, thus:

MRS MASHAM: Mistress Morley, ma'am, forgive the freedom in an old, though humble, friend, but your gown is disordered, ma'am.

MRS. MORELY: No, no, I'm sure.

MRS MASHAM: Yes, yes, I'm sure.

MRS. MORELY: It's nothing. Don't distress yourself, ma'am.

MRS MASHAM: But for your own good, ma'am, as a friend, ma'am, I shall be compelled to bind you, ma'am. Indeed I shall.

MRS. MORELY: Nay, nay, my good creature, you don't know what you're doing.

MRS MASHAM: That I do. It's the Urquhart blood declaring itself. See – there's old Sir Thomas himself looking down at you and laughing, the sly old Rabelaisian. He knows your nature may declare itself, and it's for me to act to preserve you from shame before him. Bound you must be.

"– Then I would produce some nice white sash-cord and bind Urky into the chair, just tight enough to give him the thrill of being under constraint, but not enough to hurt him. By this time he was well and truly sexually aroused. Not a pretty sight, but I was not supposed to notice. Instead –

MRS MASHAM: You must forgive me, ma'am. It's a deeply personal thing, but I cannot help observing, ma'am – because of the disorder of your dress – that you have a wee thing

MRS. MORELY: A wee thing? You are bold, ma'am.

MRS MASHAM: Aye, a wee thing. I'll go further – a wee pink tail. Yes, a wee pink tailie – I can see it, I can see it, I can see it –

MRS. MORELY: You must not peep!

MRS MASHAM: Aye, but I will peep! And I'll – how my fingers itch – I'll pull it –

MRS. MORELY: Creature, you dare not!

MRS MASHAM: I dare all! I'll pull it, I'll pull it, I'll pull it –

"– And when the tease was almost at its climax, I did pull it. Pulled Urky's little tag of ribbon, and ran with it across the room so that it unfolded rapidly and softly and ticklishly inside him, and he reached what he called his Little Xmas.

"– Then I ran to the kitchen and kept out of the way until Urky had freed himself from the easy bonds and retired to his bedroom. I cleaned up, put everything in order, and left, having picked up the envelope which he had left for me on the table by the door.

"– It contained twenty-five dollars. Twenty-five measly bucks for a day that had started at six in the morning and never ended before one! Twenty-five lousy bucks for a man of my attainments to serve as cook, butler, drug supplier, coosie-packer, character actor, sex-tease, and scholarly parasite for nineteen hours! Once, when I hinted to Urky that it was sweated labour, he looked hurt, and said he had supposed I got as much fun out of it as he did! All that delicious exciting pretence! His egotism was phenomenal in my experience, which has been great. If he hadn't nosed out a few things I preferred not to have known, I would have squealed on him long ago. Now I no longer have to dread blackmail, for I speak from the threshold of eternity, my dears. Pray for Brother John. Necessity, not my will, consented. Until tonight, when I decided I had had enough. Even a buzzard sometimes gags.