Date: Sat, 19 Aug 2000 01:46:57 BST From: Jack Rowan Subject: The Story of Tol - part 9 THE STORY OF TOL - part 9 This story includes descriptions of sexual relations between adult men, and between an adult man and a 16/17-year-old teenager, including bondage and SM. If the law in your jurisdiction says that you're too young to be reading this, then I suggest very strongly that you should obey the law. There are more notes about the story at the end of this part and at the start of part 1. The Story of Tol is copyright. Copy it for your own use if you wish, archive it if you wish, make it available through the web if you wish, but please credit it to Jack Rowan, don't change it, and include this copyright note. And don't publish it for profit, or charge for accessing it. Comments will be very gratefully received by Jack_Rowan@hotmail.com Most authors like to receive comments. It's the only way we know that anyone is even reading the stories, and it's all the payoff we get. ====================================================================== THE STORY OF TOL by Jack Rowan 9 The Good Regard of the Kindly Powers --------------------------------------- 84 "David is vastly impressed," Andrew said to me the next day. "Don't you feel a little proud?" "Yes, actually." I smiled at him. "It was so good, Andrew, I've never felt so good in my whole damn life. And it was Tim, what's more. I won't forget that evening." He ruffled my hair. "Tomorrow's the big day. Have you got anything left to take to your cottage?" "Just my books and some clothes. And there's something I need to do. Could you come with me?" "Don't forget the plants!" At the cottage, I put the books in my bookcase, and arranged the plants round the sitting room. They seemed strange there, a reminder of my old life, but I felt almost that I was setting them free. I put Aron's picture on my desk. "That just leaves this." I held up Andrew's _Just Revenge_. "Oh yes. Where're you going to put it?" "Come with me." I went into my little dungeon, and there I placed it on the wall. "In a dungeon? Unusual." He looked at me quizzically. "Yes. Just a reminder, Andrew. There are some things I must never forget." "I like this little room. It has a good feeling to it. Do good work here, Tol." "Thank you, sir." My eyes were misting over. "We've come to the end. I was going to do this later, but this is the time, and the place. Kneel down, Tol." I knelt, and I felt my hands in his hair. "Master!" "Slave, I give you my blessing. _The Good Regard_ watch over you. All the kindly powers protect you, and guide your intentions, and receive you at the last." He paused for a moment. "Now stand. And return your safeword. Say: 'Orion is my safeword. I give you Orion'." I said it, weeping. "Again." I did it. "We are no longer Master and slave." And he knelt himself, and kissed my hands. I could bear it no longer, and knelt beside him, sobbing and hugging him. "Don't cry, Tol. Don't cry. This is a great day. Of all the things I've done in my life, what I've done with you is the best, and I'm proud of it. And proud of you." "Thank you, Andrew. Thank you..." "Let's go back." I took with me the book of mandalas which he had given with me, and spent most of the day thinking through them. That night I slept with him for the last time. I was expecting him to fuck me, but he didn't. Instead he curled round me, his head on my chest, and after a while I felt his tears. I stroked his back and head and tried to comfort him, and so we fell asleep. - 85 "Up we get!" He woke me at six o'clock with a cup of coffee. "Happy birthday, Tol!" "Oh lord. Of all the things that are going to happen today, that's pretty much the least important." "All the same, I've got present for you. But I'll keep it for now. I wonder if you'll need it." He looked at me with a crooked smile. "I've got the oddest feeling about today... Oh well. What do you think for clothes? Leathers? Yes, I think so. The full thing. Let's go, Tol, it's a long drive." We dressed carefully. I wore leather trousers, a white tee shirt and a leather jacket and boots, and a studded wrist band. He was dressed like me, but he had a pair of handcuffs at his belt. I had never dressed like this before, and I felt fantastic, surreal and expansive. "You look incredible." There was frank lust in his eyes. "Put that band on your left wrist. Tradition." I did it. "Tol, you look... like a Master." "Andrew!" "Act the part. You'll need it. Look everyone in the eye. Stand firm, and call them 'Master' or by their name. Call no one 'sir', unless he is chairing a meeting. On an occasion like this, it's important. You'll annoy a few people, but only the ones who'll be annoyed anyhow." "Where's it happening?" I asked, as we moved off. "The same place as the party." "Um. I'm not sure I'm looking forward to pissing in that trough!" He laughed. "What I said before is important. Keep your dignity. Be formal. The time for compromise is over, Tol. Today we're going to face them down and finish it. It must be clean-cut and decisive." "Scarey. If only I knew what they had up their sleeves." "Aron will probably be there. Are you ready for that?" "Yes. As ready as I'll ever be. Like you said, it's a hurdle which I have to cross, and I suppose it's the last one, in a way. I'm not looking forward to it, but at least once it's over I can get on with things." "You still love him, don't you?" I paused. "Yes. Well. What can you do? It's just something I have deal with." He rested his hand on my knee. It felt strange through the leather. "So who's chairing things?" I asked after a pause. "A Master called Peter. He was agreed by Paul and Desmond." "What's he like?" "Straight, to start with. Very formal and strict, follows the conventions absolutely, and will stand for no funny business at all. He regards people like Paul and me and David as hopelessly frivolous and lax. On the other hand, he really hates people like the ones you met. He almost worshipped Anthony. You'll recognise him, by the way. 'Peter' is not his real name." "Really? So what's the order of proceedings?" "Well. People start turning up as soon as they can, and there'll be a full debate at eleven. Then we have a break, and another debate after lunch, and if necessary another in the evening. The rest of the time I suppose people will just be milling around, politicking." "It sounds hellish." "It has many hellish possibilities, that's for sure." We were on the motorways now. It was a warm sunny day, and I dozed off. When he woke me, we were drawing up in front of the house. The car-park was crammed, and all around people were coming and going, both women and men. Most were wearing either leathers or their Sunday best. Inside the atmosphere was febrile, groups of people gathered in corners and doorways, greeting one another and parting. Politics, connivance and conspiracy, factions, betrayals, rumours, spin. For years it had been my life-blood, and with a kind of disgust I realised that now, if ever, I would need every ounce of my skill. "Walk beside me, Tol," said Andrew. "You are not a slave." "Andrew, dear boy!" said Paul, striding towards us. "So glad you could come. Tol, good to see you." Then, in a lower voice. "Thank god you're here. They've turned out in force, they're all over the place. And it's you they're talking about, Tol, the dreadful abuser, and the undecideds, they're listening. I just hope we can kill it off in the first session, that's all..." "Is Alan here?" "Yes, believe it or not. And Chris, and Derek. And now you. Any ideas what they're going to pull with you, Tol?" "No. They gave me no clues. They said just to..." I saw Desmond approaching us. "Well, I'm here as you asked, Master. I suppose people will just have to take me as they find me. I don't really understand politics myself..." "Again you bring this monster here, Master!" He was shouting at Andrew, shaking his fist in front of his face. "Have you no shame at all?" "Tol is not a slave. He can go where he wishes. Since apparently this morning's session is to be devoted to his case, I don't suppose even you will object to his presence, will you, Master?" "He had - better be there, I suppose." "Then let us skip the histrionics, shall we, Master? Tol will be there, as I'm sure you intended." Desmond flounced off without a word. "Go and talk to the Scots, Andrew," said Paul. "They're wavering. And Tol - I don't know. Wander around, I suppose..." I had my role to play, but I had no idea of the lines. For some reason I decided I would pay a visit to the toilets where I had been so humiliated before. I walked across the ballroom, where chairs had been laid out and, I noticed, a complete set of all twenty-six mandalas hung round the walls. I went up the steps to the balcony, and found the place. Coming out was a short man, red-faced and dressed in a business suit. "My goodness!" he remarked fussily. "Aren't you - aren't you Tol?" "Yes, Master." "Oh, no, not a Master. Not me. But my Mistress very particularly wanted to meet you... I am Slave Robin. May I - may I introduce you?" "By all means." He led me back to the ballroom, and there, standing in front of _Just Revenge_, was a group of people, rather conventionally dressed, men and women. They were, I realised, straight. Robin gestured towards a stout middle-aged woman. "Mistress, this is Tol! I've found him!" "Tol," she said in friendly, rather melodious voice. "How good to meet you. I'm called Green Lady. Clement - Anthony's slave, you know - he mentioned you." "I'm honoured to meet you, Mistress." "Clement said that you were good at deciding things, the rights and wrongs of things. That you were close to - that." She gestured at the mandala. "I'm hoping you can help us." "Mistress, I'll be even more honoured if I can. But you should know that all I can tell you is just what you said, the rights and wrongs. What you make of it is up to you. You must bring to it your own knowledge of the people involved, and their feelings." She looked at me keenly. "Good. I like that. Well, let me tell you our problem. There is a Mistress and slave in our group, who have been together for many years. They own a house, which is in the slave's name. Not long ago they formed a connection with another Mistress, and several times scened with her. Now the two Mistresses have agreed to transfer the slave to the second Mistress. They wish to transfer the house to the first Mistress in compensation. The slave does not wish to be transferred, and maintains that the house is his. What shall we do?" I stared at her, astonished at the position she had put me in. Then I drew a deep breath, and immersed myself in the mandala. It was not a difficult problem; the only question was the proportions, and for that there were precedents, and I recalled them. The entire group was watching me intently. "There are no children?" "No." I gathered myself. "I speak now before _Just Revenge_. The slave cannot be transferred against his wishes from one Mistress to another. That goes beyond the boundaries of an ethical consent, and is completely illegitimate. The first Mistress may dissolve her dominance of her slave unilaterally if she so chooses, but by doing so, she is breaking the terms of a legitimate dominance and offending the honour of her slave's submission. Therefore it is appropriate that she should receive less than half of the value of the common property. Precedents indicate that the appropriate proportion for her to receive in this case is one quarter. The remainder is the slave's." I felt a murmur of approval from the group. "Thank you, Master," said Green Lady. It was the first time I had been called that, and I was surprised how good it felt. "That is a good basis to start from." "I'm honoured. Mistress, will you excuse me? There are some other people I must meet." I left them, feeling absurdly pleased with myself. "What were you doing over there?" said David, as I joined him and Tim. "Delivering a judgment, believe it or not. They asked me to. Fortunately it wasn't hard. They seemed quite pleased." "Excellent, Tol. They're a very nice little group, femdoms from the West Country, well-respected people." "Clement recommended me." "Did he now? Well, well." "William's over there. I'd better go and talk to him." He was leaning against a doorframe, his elegant fingers caressing a cigarette. "Well, Tol. All present and correct?" "Yes. Here I am." "Aron is here. As we promised." "Good." He smirked, and I felt an urge to hit him. "Tell me, Tol. I'm told that you're turning out to be quite a hard player, in your new domly role. Not that that's surprising, I suppose. You certainly started off that way. Are you familiar with the virtues of barbed wire?" "Barbed wire? Master, I'm not sure..." "Makes a delicious whip, Tol. Delicious. If you use it right, you can strip the flesh right down to the bones." He giggled. "Of course, you have to be careful, if you want your customer to live. I was thinking - supposing you decided on reflection not to go along with our little arrangement, you know - to try it out on Aron. To see how long I could keep him alive, you know. I think he could probably last a week. What do you think? Maybe even ten days." I couldn't keep it up. "God, you vile bastard..." He laughed. "Yes. Not quite the man you were, are you? I thought as much. But," and he leant close towards me, "You'll obey your orders, or I'll do just what I said." He was not smiling now. His hand was resting on my shoulder, apparently in a friendly way, but his fingers had dug into a nerve, and I was in agony. I didn't show it. "I tried it out, you know. The barbed wire thing. Cute little ten-year-old. How he sang! Amazing. He could still be alive, in fact. Just about. In my house, in the basement. Perhaps you'd better trot over to your friends and arrange a rescue posse, eh? Off you go, cunt." I saw David and Tim talking to Paul, and ran to them. "He's been torturing a boy. A kid. In his house - he says he may still be alive!" "Shit!" said Paul. It was the first time I'd seen a crack in his urbane exterior. "We'll have to go. No. Not me - you go, David. Take Waheed, over there - he's a doctor. And get Gavin. And - what's that slave? Simon - he's in the police. Maxim's over there - get one of his men, Tim. Tol? You know Simon - he's somewhere in the entrance hall. All meet on the front steps. Do it!" I saw Simon and ran to him. As I explained I could see William looking at me ironically. We ran to the front steps, and the others were there, including the phlegmatic Jan. "Who's got the fastest car?" asked Paul. "Better take mine," said Simon. "Fewer problems if we're stopped." "Is anyone armed?" "Yes, sir," said Jan. "Do whatever you need for the boy - if he isn't a fiction - and get back as fast as you can. And take pictures." "It'll be at least six hours." "Can't be helped. Go! And - blessings." We looked at each other as they ran off. "And now we're short of more people, and crucial people too. And it could be a complete fake." At that moment we heard a gong sound. "The first session," said Paul. "Come on." - 86 We sat together, with Andrew on my other side. People were streaming in and taking their seats. At the table in front was a tall man, and as Andrew said, I recognised him immediately; a prominent politician of the Government party, tall, saturnine and elegantly dressed. Once there was quiet, he stood to speak. "Ladies, gentlemen. This convention has been called to decide the governance of our group, following the death of the late Master Anthony. We must be quite frank. There are two major contenders to take up Master Anthony's mantle: Masters Desmond and Paul, and our task is to decide between them. Each has their own vision of the future which, no doubt, they will lay out before you. "But before we start, Master Anthony's slave, Clement, has asked if he might speak briefly, and I am honoured to agree. Clement." Clement stood. He was as tall as Peter, and slender, a remarkably handsome elderly man. I could see his grief, and felt for it. "Anthony Andiver was for fifty-three years my beloved Master. And for all those years, he devoted himself without reserve to the community which is represented here today. To him we owe all the ethics of our group and their enforcement, our organisation, our customs and rituals and the modalities of our spirituality. It was he who brought to us the Carncross Mandalas. It was he who laid out our ethical norms, in his writings through the years. And he personally took on the burden of enforcing them, even the hard necessities which that sometimes entailed. If I was his slave, he too, was a slave; a slave to this community and its requirements. And now it falls to me, knowing the matters which will be laid before us, to remind everyone of the two pillars on which everything is founded. Justice: the rigid requirements of our ethical tradition. And mercy, because we admit the possibility of reform, of good transforming evil. Even at his funeral we were reminded of this, and from an unlikely source indeed. Justice and mercy. May they inform your deliberations today. "Ladies, gentlemen. Master Anthony Andiver is dead. Chose well. And if you can, as I wait the few years before I join him, think of me in your prayers." And instead of sitting, he walked slowly to the door, and left us. And then Desmond rose to speak. He was good. He was very good; I had to pinch myself to remember his voice on the telephone, the deal we had made, the table-full of horrors who supported him, the deathly hand of William on my shoulder. But then he started on me. Tol, the abuser; Tol, the emblem of wickedness, whom Anthony - showing the mercy we had been reminded of - had spared, and who, after some nominal imprisonment, had been let loose on a helpless world. Fortunately he still protected Aron, otherwise his brother, influnced in his illness by his foolish friends, would have left him at risk! All this was simply an example of the weakness which Master Paul showed, and of how easily he was influenced by his feeble, and in some cases wicked, associates. Then it was Paul's turn, and he was, it seemed to me, even better; but he had a harder task. Mercy never has the pull of vengeance. But he explained what had happened to me, explained how a full team of people had cared for me, punished me, reformed me. A team; it was no longer enough to lay everything on one man. And, he said, I had reformed. He would call witnesses to prove it; to show how I had become a valued member of their group. And then they came to tell their stories; Maxim, to tell what I had done, pressed hard by Desmond, till he crumbled and wept, and had to be helped away. Alan, quiet and sweet, impressive only to those who knew and loved him. Chris, firm and explicit, dealing with her psychological analysis of me in a way which anyone could understand. Then it was Derek: bluff and direct. He had picures of what had happened, and he could tell what I had to undergo, how it had changed me, how it linked to what Chris had said, how I had never resisted punishment. He was vastly impressive, and I was reassured. "Your slave, Gavin, took part in these activities?" asked Desmond. "Yes, indeed." "So why is he not here, to add weight to your narrative?" "As I'm sure you are aware, he had to go on an errand." "I'm aware of no such thing. What do you mean?" "The activities of one of your associates required immediate intervention. Or so he claimed." "Which associate?" "Master William." "Master William? What do you know of this?" That was Peter. "Oh, nothing. I'm sure I couldn't say. I think that Burnley had a - well, let's say a brainstorm, after I had spoken to him. It's certainly a pity that as a result of what he said, Gavin and Master David are unable to tell us what they know. Also the slave Simon, who I think he encountered." "What do you know of this, Burnley?" "Only what William said. That he had been torturing a boy in his house, and that he might still be alive." I saw Desmond turn white. "I believe it," said someone. "He was always a nasty bastard." "Oh no," said William. "I've reformed, just like Burnley." I heard some of his sycophants laugh, and it chilled me. "Enough!" said Peter. "We shall hear the truth of that later, I'm sure. In the meantime, Master William, please oblige me by staying in this room. Now. I believe we are to hear from Master Andrew." Andrew described all that had happened to me with him, the long sessions after Christmas, how I had become a student of the mandalas and of _Just Revenge_. "I have heard something of this," said Peter. "Mistress Chris, can you help us?" "Yes, Master. I have directed his work, and I have been extremely impressed. He has an affinity for our ethics and for _Just Revenge_ which is unusual and potentially very important. I myself submitted a case for his consideration, and his judgment was complete and enormously valuable to me." "That is intriguing. Have there been other such cases?" "Yes, Master," Green Lady called out. "He helped me and my group just this morning, and we were very grateful." "Thank you, Mistress; we are obliged to you. Well, let us resume. Master Andrew?" Andrew went on to describe the scenes I had done withe Tim and Simon. "Regrettably, Simon is not here," said Peter. "We could, however, hear from Tim. Is he here?" "I object," said Desmond. "Tim is a slave, and his Master is not present. He may not speak." "Sir!" said Andrew. "Tol did another scene, just with Tim alone. Surely it is crucial that he did not abuse him then. Can Tim not be heard?" "Will you not waive your objection, Master?" said Peter. "No. It's completely illegitimate. We must follow forms, sir. I insist." Peter smiled. "It would be interesting, since he has a reputation as a jurist, to hear from Burnley himself, would it not? What do you say, Burnley?" "Sir!" said Andrew. "You put him in an impossible position! He cannot be judge in his own cause!" "He isn't. I am judge. I am simply asking his advice. Burnley?" I stood. The tempation to bullshit them was there, but I couldn't. This was all I had to offer, and if I betrayed it now, I was finished, whatever happened here. "A slave may be heard without his Master only in a question of justice, or in matters affecting his own submission. That does not apply in this case. Slave Tim cannot be heard." There was a ripple of surprise, and Peter looked at me keenly. "Interesting. Thank you, Burnley." "Sir, I protest!" I heard Green Lady say. "May he not be called by his name? You hear his ruling, but you refer to him in terms more fitting to a criminal. Sir, it's unseemly!" "Your point is well taken, Mistress. I apologise, Tol. You may sit down." Paul patted my hand. "Well done." "I gave the straight ruling. There - there wasn't anything else I could do." "Of course, my dear. Always speak the truth, and always be sincere." "Despite the ruling," said Peter, "I choose to hear what Tim has to say. I feel this is a matter of enough importance to go beyond precedent. Your protest is noted, Desmond, but overruled. Slave Tim." Tim described what had happened in our second scene. "So, this was an important limit for you?" "Yes, sir. And for my Master as well." "And at any time did he force your consent?" "No, sir. Absolutely not." "He respected your slowword?" "Yes, sir." "Thank you, Tim. And now - I think we will break for lunch." - 87 "We're ahead on points," said Paul. "I wonder what kind of horror the others are going through." "I can't eat. I think - I'll just sit here." He patted my shoulder and walked off. I sat, covered in humiliation and despair. I had done everything I could, everything that had been demanded of me, but as far as I could see, it wouldn't be enough. And now - Master Paul would lose, and I was responsible. And still Desmond and William hadn't played their card. After a few minutes Green Lady sat beside me. "Thanks for your help, Mistress. I really appreciate that." "The whole thing has me spitting blood. I don't know. With all due respect, you men just make such a meal over everything! You went wrong, you were punished, anyone can see you're a different person now, and that should be it. And if that wasn't enough, how could anyone doubt what Mistress Chris says?" I could see that in her eyes, Chris was next only to god, if that. "I can't see why they're bothering, Master, I really can't." "You shouldn't call me Master, really." "Oh, poo. Anyone I get a judgment from is a Master, believe me, lad." "They're bothering because if I'm still an abuser, Paul has messed up and he's naive and a weakling." "Such nonsense, honestly. Just don't worry, Tol, it'll work out." She patted my hand and moved away. A moment later I was approached by a man I recognised as one of Maxim's people. "Sir, Master Peter would like to speak to you. Please follow me." Wondering, I was led to a small room which Peter was clearly using as his base. His belongings were scattered around, and a small version of _Just_Revenge_ had been stuck to the wall. "Tol. Come in." "Thank you, Master." "I was impressed by what you said. You could have tried to make a monkey out of me, but you didn't." I shrugged. "I can't take much credit, I'm afraid. The precedents must have been known to everyone there, including you." He smiled. "Nevertheless. I want to get your opinion about a delicate topic. I suppose this is a test, but I genuinely need help here. It concerns the provisions of Master Anthony's will. You must understand that Anthony had no idea about money, and Clement handled it all. In his will, Anthony left all he had - and it's an enormous amount; Clement is very clever that way - to various charities associated with our community. He presumably assumed that Clement had his own resources. In point of fact, everything they had was in Anthony's name, and Clement is now completely penniless. He refuses to take money from the estate, but it's obviously unseemly that he should live in poverty. What should we do?" "You want my opinion, before the mandala?" "Yes." I thought for a while. "Okay, then. I speak now before _Just Revenge_. There are no precedents that I'm aware of for this situation, so I must go to principles. It is clear that Master Anthony would not wish his slave to live in poverty, and it would be an offence to his honour if this happened. Therefore we are justified in taking steps to ensure it doesn't happen. At the same time, the terms of his will should be preserved as far as possible, as should Clement's desire that he take no money from the estate. You must ask one or more of the charities (which I presume you influence, at least) to set up a trust fund to provide an income for Clement during his lifetime, after which the money will revert to the charity's use. As for Clement's opinion: here there are precedents. In the event of a Master's death or incapacity, the Master's friends may speak to the slave on the Master's behalf in certain instances, and I say that this is one of these. Clement must be told that he must accept this arrangement, so as to preserve his Master's honour." "Thank you, Tol. That is excellent. And please - not a word to anyone about this." "No. But I should record a precedent, without the personal details." "Understood." He sighed. "I shall have to speak to Clement, I suppose. He is quite desperately overcome with grief." "If I may suggest, Master, I know that Mistress Green Lady is a friend of his. She may be able to help you." "Thanks. That's a good idea." He sighed again. "Well. We had better get back." - 88 "What did Peter want?" said Paul, as we sat down. "Private matter. Let's just say - I seem to be acquiring more and more clients." He laughed. "Excellent, Tol." "They have to play their card now. The others could be back in a couple of hours." "Yes. I saw Desmond talking to William. He was not pleased." "William is a grotesque," I said. "What on earth can he be thinking of? He's - I don't know, it's like a shark. Can't stop no matter what; if its own tail is injured and bleeding, it attacks that." "He thinks that once they've won, it doesn't matter what comes out. Trouble is, he's probably right. He relishes the gamble, I think... Tol, I shall have to call you up next." "I know. Here we go..." Peter called for order, and I was summoned to the front. Paul led me through everything that had happened. For the most part it was a recapitulation, and I felt the meeting become a little restless. Desmond said nothing at all. Finally Peter called a halt. "Thank you, Paul. Master Desmond? Have you any questions?" I steeled myself. This had to be the moment. "What I have is a simple demonstration. Ladies, gentlemen. We have heard endlessly about how this - this person, Tolgrund Burnley, is now a fully reformed, charitable, compassionate, hard-working member of our community, a skilled, excellent and oh-so-consensual top, and a learned judge to boot. Fiddlesticks! This is all nonsense, and we are in danger of being taken in, just as Master Paul has been taken in. I know Master Paul of old. Unlike Tolgrund Burnley, he is indeed a compassionate man, and a kindly one, a forgiving one, someone who likes to think the best of people. If I wanted a friend, I couldn't think of a better one than Master Paul, and I'm not ashamed to admit it. But these same qualities make him totally unfitted for the role he now aspires to, and I intend to demonstrate that. The fact is that Burnley was an animal and a psychopath, and he remains an animal and psychopath. And some at least of the succession of jailors and shrinks that we heard this morning must be aware of this fact, yet they choose to suppress it; and they are precisely the members of the team that Paul wishes to foist upon us!" At the back of the hall, behind a pillar and hidden from Peter, I could see William. In his hand he had a short length of barbed wire, and he was stroking it gently over his face. My blood ran cold. "So now. Now I wish to bring another person onto the stage. The person who has been most damaged by this criminal. Bring in my ward, Aron Chernik." There was a gasp from the hall. And the door opened, and there he was, flanked by two of Desmond's goons. Leaving them hurrying behind him, he strode to the front. I could see that he was handcuffed and gagged, but his eyes blazed on me, blazed and burned, and I was terrified. He was wearing a white shirt and black trousers and boots, his black hair, far longer than I remembered, flared around his head, and his every movement was of fury, defiance and revolt. He was magnificent! I stood thunderstruck. But his eyes were on me, only on me, and I withered and shrank from his fury. "What is this, Master?" shouted Peter. "You bring this boy to our meeting cuffed and gagged? What can you be thinking of?" There were shouts and cries from the audience. "Silence!" yelled Peter. "Well, Master? What have you to say?" "He is my ward! I have duties to him which go beyond your jurisdiction, sir! I adjudge it inappropriate that he should take part in our deliberations!" "Well? Why is he here, then? He is not some trained animal, to be dragged before us!" "I am about to show you, if you will allow me." And all the while I could see William, and his barbed wire. "Now, Tol," he said, his voice suddenly as smooth as cream. "Here he is. This is Aron Chernik. I suppose you've been dreaming about him, haven't you?" "Sir," I appealed to Peter, "Must I answer this?" "Yes, Tol, you must." "Yes, I have dreamed of him." "Every night?" "On many, many nights." I was weeping now. "You still desire him." I paused. "Yes. I love him." And eyes - oh, his eyes! - they were still on me, blazing, and I was burning from them, burning and in agony. "Then - take him. He's yours, Tol." He turned away from me, to the audience. "What do you mean?" I whispered. "He's my ward. I can designate anyone I wish to be his training Master. I designate you, Tol. All you have to do is accept. There he is. Bound, gagged, and yours. No need for consent. No need to ask him. All legal and above board - and, what's more," and he turned to me, "If I direct the affairs of this community, I guarantee, I guarantee absolutely, that no one will interfere, and you can do - what - you - like." I stared at him, speechless. "Come on, Tol. This is your moment! It's all yours. Forget all that stuff you were taught, all that legal nonsense, forget all that foolishness about consent and abuse. It's all phoney, isn't it, Tol? Now's your chance! Take it! Take him!" And I thought of him, my love, and how I had scarcely dared think of him for so many months, how I longed for him and regretted him, and the delicacy and lightness of his touch and his lips, the fervour of his consent, his courage, his heart-breaking courage in confronting the evil he knew I had. And I knew that I couldn't betray him by taking him like that again. William - William we would have to deal with. If I took him, we were both lost. I turned, and it was not to Desmond, but to Peter I spoke. "No. I cannot take him without his consent." "Think, Tol." said Desmond. "Think. Remember - if you won't take him, I must make other arrangements. Think. Don't throw him away." "Throw him away? That was what I did the last time. Those are his own words, Master, fool that you are. I threw him away, and I know that he will never come to me again. But what you are offering me is not him, but just a mockery. If I take him unconsenting, I do not take him at all, because without his consent, he keeps what is his. You say he is your ward, but you betray your trust, you nullify him, and you insult me, and this community. No! Your offer, which is no offer at all, is refused!" There was a long pause. "Then I shall designate Master William." "NO!!" Maxim's cry was like a wounded child. He staggered from his seat to Peter's table. "Master, I beg you. Master, do not allow this! Am I to have no word at all in this? I am his brother... It is my family..." He was weeping. "I think Master Maxim is overcome," said William, walking to the front. "His mental state... Really, it's too bad that he should have to cope with all this in his condition..." "Master Desmond is his ward, Maxim," said Peter. "There is nothing we can do." "You heard what Master Peter said," said William. "Now go and sit down with your friends, there's a good fellow, and they'll look after you. Sad, very sad," he added in a stage whisper. His sycophants laughed, but almost everyone else was shocked to silence. Maxim slumped in a chair, sobbing. "Aron is underage, and Desmond is his guardian. I can't claim to be happy with this matter in the slightest, but we cannot intervene." But something was stirring in my mind. Something back then - what was it? Something I should remember - one of his e-mails. Yes! "Maxim," I said. "When is Aron's birthday?" "His birthday!" He wept louder. "Today. It's his birthday today, and this is what he gets!" "Then," I said, "Then he is seventeen today." There was a pause, and then Peter laughed. "Desmond, you really forgot that? You forgot? Thank all the kindly powers someone remembered. He is seventeen! Your guardianship is over, Desmond. You!" And he shouted at the goon. "Release him!" The goon hesitated. "Do it now!" Derek and Maxim's man moved to the front, and I saw that both were armed. Hurriedly, the goon undid his handcuffs and removed the gag. Aron took two steps towards me, and then he yelled. "Don't just stand there, Tol, you stupid fucker! KISS ME!" - 89 And I did, I felt his slight, lithe form in my arms, and his delicate lips on mine, and I was weeping, and I could feel his sobs. And never could I have imagined that I could be so happy. Then Tim was hugging us both, and Andrew, and Paul and Derek, and Chris, and for a while I was outside time, enwrapped in love and peace. Finally, Peter called for order, and the others sat down. We stood before him hand in hand. "Ladies, gentlemen. We have spent the entire day discussing the question of Tolgrund Burnley, and it's time we moved on. However, let me place this on the record: Tol is a full, unqualified member of this community, and after the demonstration which Master Desmond so helpfully laid on for us, his rehabilitation cannot be in doubt, even if had been before. Is there any dissent? Then I so rule. And now let us, please, and without wasting time on any further irrelevancies, move to discuss what policies and plans our two candidates have to offer us. Yes, Tol?" "May we be excused, sir? We also have things to discuss." The response to this was more laughter, this time with a rather ribald edge, and Peter smiled as he answered. "By all means. But please - return when you are needed." I pulled Aron after me. I knew where to go. "In here!" "How do you..." "I came here with Tim." "That tart! I shall have to have words with him! I heard all that evidence, you know!" I was holding both his hands, and we were facing each other. He was taller now, but still nearly a head shorter than me. "He... taught me a lot, you know..." He laughed. "It's okay. We're old friends..." I looked at him, and suddenly I broke. And I was on my knees, holding his feet, weeping. "Oh, Aron, I am so, so sorry... Forgive me, forgive me..." He was kneeling with me, hugging me. "Hush, hush. I forgive you. I forgave you long ago. Long, long ago. For so long now I've been wanting to see you, to hold you again... Oh god, I love you so much, Tol, I love you more than anything, more than I could love anything..." I just wept and held him. "I want you so much, Tol. I want you to do everything. Everything. Over and over again. We've never had sex, Tol," and he started to weep himself, "That's what I was thinking when that swine Vladek had me, we never even had sex... It was so unfair..." I held him until he quietened. "You must know this, Tol. He raped me. Over and over again, him and his friends, that frightful William, he was one, I've lost count, over and over again, and all I could think was, we never did it even once..." "What they did, didn't count. That wasn't sex. That was rape." "Yes." He smiled. He was always brave. "But... Tol, I'm scared. I'll be scared, Tol." "Stand up." We did, and I let go his hands. "Will you take my safeword, Aron? Before I even so much as touch you again, I want you to have it." "Oh, yes, Tol... Oh yes." He was weeping. I remembered Andrew and me, standing beside his car in the moonlight. And now is was me and Aron, in this strange little room, and I knew I would never have to do this again. "Aron, your safeword is 'little foxes'. I give you 'little foxes'. Say it." "Little foxes." "Again." "Little foxes." "And a slowword. Aron, your slowword is 'mistletoe'. Say it." "Mistletoe." "Again." "Mistletoe." "You have your safeword and your slowword. And I swear before all the kindly powers that I shall always respect them." I looked at him. "Master," he said, and my heart jumped, "Please kiss me." We kissed for a long time, and I could feel him hard against me. "Why 'little foxes'? Why 'mistletoe'?" "Tell you later. Now I want to take all your clothes off." "Oh? Really? And if I don't want to?" "You have your safeword, slave. Use it." He leapt at me, kissing, devouring, frantic. And when he was naked, I stared at him, appalled. From his shoulders to his feet, front and back, he was cross-hatched with livid stripes and scars. None were new, but they covered him, and some would never go away. "Oh god almighty..." "Yes, Tol. I tell you, you were a complete amateur. These guys were professionals." "How can I ever..." "I want you to. I want it, Master. I may not want it all to start with, but you are my Master, and I will never deny you what they stole. Never, and not a thing. Please, Master, say it. It's important." "Slave," and I swallowed. This was hurting me. "Slave, you will never deny me anything they stole. I claim it all." He melted into my arms, soft and totally, utterly willing, and looked up at me. "Beautiful slave boy," I said, "Now give yourself." I felt him do it, felt him change as he became my slave in truth. And I laid him on the bed, and I ministered to him, kissing him and licking him all over his body, front and back, kissing and licking every mark, claiming and anointing him. And he wept and moaned as I did it, but he was hard, totally hard. And then I licked his balls, and cuddled them, healed them, and took his dick into my mouth and right into my throat, and held it there, just held it, hugging it, longing to wipe away the marks and violations it bore. I worked him gently, slowly, long strokes in and out, and soon he was moaning, gripping my head, bucking inside me, and then he came, and filled my mouth, my throat, filled them to overflowing, as he screamed my name. I kissed him again. "Aron Chernik," I said, "You are my slave." "And you are my Master, Tol Burnley." We held each other, kissing, saying nothing. "Come on," he said after a while. "Get up." "Get up?" I said. "And who's the Master here?" "You are. I want you to come downstairs and collar me. In front of them all." "What?! Are you sure?" "I'm sure. In front of them all. I want them all to see it, that Tol Burnley is collaring me, I want them all to sodding witness it, and either say something or shut the fuck up, so there's no goddam nonsense in the future about Tol, the awful abuser." "I haven't got a collar!" "I don't care if you use a piece of string." I looked at him, and loved him. "Okay, we'll do it. We'll damn well do it!" "Right!" I watched as he dressed, marvelling again at the swiftness and neatness of his movements, his containment and exactness. "What are you looking at?" "Just you, love, just you." He stuck his tongue out at me. We walked quietly into the ballroom. Paul was speaking, and as we appeared, he stopped. We stood hand-in-hand. "Yes, Tol? Do you have something to say?" "Yes. We want everyone here to witness - Aron's collaring." To my astonishment, there was an outburst of cheering and clapping. Andrew hurried to us and hugged me. "I knew!" he said. "Somehow - something told me you'd need it. Here." He gave me a parcel. On it was written: 'To Tol. Happy Birthday - in Hope'. I opened it. It was beautiful, a collar in silver, a linked chain; too large for Aron, but we could have it adjusted. It had a lock. "It's lovely," Aron whispered. "Thank you, Andrew. You must always come to our birthday parties. They're going to be extraordinary!" "You must talk to Maxim first," said Andrew. I saw him, slumped in a chair, but his eyes were bright. As we came to him, he got to his feet. "This is doing me a lot of good, boys. A lot." "Do we have your blessing, Max?" said Aron. "Of course." Aron pulled me to my kness, and I felt Maxim's hand on my head, and he spoke briefly in Slovian. "Welcome to our family, Tol," he said, as we stood, and embraced me. I found I was weeping. Then I took Aron by the hand, and led him out in front of them all. "Aron asks me to say this. Are there any objections to what we are about to do?" There was complete silence. I looked at Desmond, but he said nothing. William smiled ironically, but he too was silent. "Then let no one in the future question my right to be Aron's Master." I heard Paul say, "Well said, Tol!" So I put Andrew's collar round Aron's neck, and locked it, and said the old words. "I call on you to witness that Aron Miheliewicz Chernik is my collared slave. From him I require obedience and submission to the limit of his strength. To him I will give my protection, my love and my guidance, even at the cost of my life. So I swear, and so help me all the kindly powers." "We witness," said the crowd, and then there was a vast cheer. Aron took two steps back, and knelt, and lay full length at my feet. I lifted him up and kissed him. At this moment, I thought, we are invulnerable, immortal, almighty. We stood for a while kissing, and then we sat next to Maxim. Surprised, I saw him stiffen a little with pride, and I was happy yet again. "Let us resume," said Peter. "You were saying, Master?" Paul started talking again, but I couldn't concentrate. I was looking at Aron, the curve of his neck, the way his hair tucked round his ear, his hands resting twined with mine, his feet, one tucked neatly over the other. I was in love, and my love was my slave, I was his Master and eveything, everything was right in the world. - 90 Suddenly there was a clatter and a cry, and David burst in, followed by Gavin, Waheed and Jan. David looked round wildly, and when he saw William, pointed and shouted, his face livid with fury. "Arrest that man!" Jan drew his pistol and pointed it squarely at him. "Please, Master!" said Peter. "Please collect yourself and tell us what's happened." "We went to William's house. Simon picked the lock. In the basement we found the body of a boy of about ten. His injuries were beyond any possible description. Nearby was a scourge made of barbed wire. Master Waheed said he had been dead for possibly five hours, and he had died from shock and loss of blood. He died there, alone and in the darkness, and in agony, and as for that man, who calls himself Master, I, David Branver, am ashamed to be of the same species!" There was utter silence. "What did you do?" asked Peter. "We left Simon to liaise with the police. There was nothing else to be done, so we returned here. And now - I call justice on this man, who has done murder and dishonoured us all!" "Oh, please," said William. "Let's stop the amateur dramatics. Okay, so I enjoyed myself with a boy. So what? He had no relatives, he was from a local authority home, no one gave a damn if lived or died. At least he had a chance to be the centre of attention once in his pathetic little life. He was wonderful! Let that be his epitaph. As for me: I've had enough of this charade. I declare my candidature, and my manifesto is a simple one. A return to the old ways. An end to hypocrisy; an end to the nonsense about consent and ethics; an end to absurd and dishonest rituals such as we have just seen, in which a convicted abuser pretended to be a lovey-dovey Master, when all he wants is exactly the same as me; an end to all this mandala mumbo-jumbo and a clear-eyed recognition of the facts. That each of us is a predator, or a prey, and the destiny of the predator is for a short while to glory and to triumph and to feed, till he returns to the dust, and of the prey to be enjoyed, to suffer and to die. I call for a vote. A vote for me, and for freedom and glory. Or for these two sad, tight-arsed hypocrites and their miserable, suburban fairy- tales. Vote!" When he had finished, there was utter and complete silence, the shock was so great. As for me, I was appalled. He had articulated, far more precisely than I could ever have done, the exact feelings which had led me to my first encounters with Aron. It was complete, coherent and in its feral absolutism, beautiful. And it was like looking into the eyes of a corpse; it reeked and suppurated with corruption. I sat by my lover, my consenting slave, overwhelmed by horror. "Since you have asked for a vote, a vote we shall have," said Peter, and I could hear the shock in his voice. "Those who support the candidature of Master William, show." William's hand and two others went up. "You are defeated, Master." "Well. So it goes. I shall leave you in the mists, then." And he walked towards the door. "Wait," said David. "You cannot go. You are a murderer. A boy died in agony. That's what it comes to, in the end. You talk of glory and freedom, but that's what you mean. What you mean is a man in a basement, flogging a child with barbed wire, and then leaving him to die in blood, agony, terror and squalor. There are many forms of glory in this world, but that is not one of them. That is madness and corruption, treason to life, treason to solidarity, treason to the human race. If you think, because we reject your nihilistic egotism, that we are weak, and infinitely tolerant of evil, then you are wrong. There is mercy, and there is justice. We assert the rights of the helpless and the innocent, and in their name I have killed the merciless before, as Anthony did, and if need be, I will do it again. Because I am a predator also, William. Didn't you know?" David's words saved me. They brought me back from death and despair into the light, where people lived and loved, and found their glory in compassion and courage, and the world and its creatures. I looked at him in amazement. William stopped and turned, and for the first time his face showed disquiet. "I called justice," said David. "Let justice be done." "Yes," said Peter. "But how shall we do it? Master Anthony was always the one who did justice for us. Where can we turn now?" There was a long pause, and I felt Aron grip my hands with insane intensity. Finally someone spoke. It was Green Lady. "Let Master Tol stand before _Just Revenge_ for us. We saw him do justice, and we were satisfied." "So did I," said Chris. "And I," said Andrew. "And I," said Derek, "And I know him to be merciful as well as just." "I saw it as well," said Tim. "So did I," said Maxim. "And so did I," said Peter. "Tol, this is a great burden. But there is no one here who can bear it except you. If you refuse, no one can fault you. But it is a task which I think you can do. That's all." There was silence. Aron gripped my hands, but didn't meet my eyes. I searched for help in my mind, but there was none. The choice was completely mine. But, I thought, if it's a choice between the horror of William's vision, and the hard task of stopping him, that was no choice at all; it made itself. And there was only me. If I didn't do it, it wouldn't be done. "I will do it," I said finally. "I don't see how I can refuse." I stood and walked to _Just Revenge_. It was a quiet, introspective version, and I felt for a while out of ease with it, but as my mind went in, I found the landscape familiar. I don't know how long I stood gazing into it, but finally I turned, and sighed. "Bring William before me." Jan and Derek escorted him over, and everyone stood round, facing me. I looked at him staring ironically at me, and tried to collect my thoughts. "The facts of the case are clear, and have been related to us, so we need no one to accuse Master William. Are there any more facts that you wish to bring before me, Master?" "I'm dying for a cigarette." "Go ahead. Mistress Chris, please come before me. Can we hope for any reformation from this man?" "In my judgment, sir, the chance is very remote. He is clearly a sociopath. He is an articulate and educated man, and we have all heard the existential justification he made for his behaviour. In practice, he is virtually out of control, as we have seen by the extreme riskiness of his actions today; he acted in a way that almost taunted us to find him out. In my judgment, for the same reason, even rational deterence is unlikely to be of use." "Do you wish to speak in your own defence, Master William?" "What would be the point? Since you cannot share my world-view, you cannot do anything but condemn me. If you expect a plea in mitigation, forget it. I would rather go out like a light than go through some horrendous reeducation programme, or be imprisoned for years. A short life but a merry one! As if any one of you would not have wished, in your heart of hearts, to act as I have. You're too afraid! But I, I have not been afraid. I, at least, have lived." "Will anyone speak in Master William's behalf?" There was a long silence. "If no one will, than I shall." It was Alan. "Don't be too quick to snuff out a life. Any life has potential, as you yourself have found. We cannot be certain how things will go, since none of us is infallible. Nor can we be certain where blame lies. Many things happen in a person's life, which blight their chances, and reduce their real freedom of choice. Only god can judge correctly, and it is not for us to preempt his decisions." "Thank you, Master Alan. That is appreciated. Does anyone else wish to speak?" "Yes." To my astonishment, it was Aron. "I'm a slave, and I speak on behalf of the prey William spoke about, and that boy in his basement. It's just this. If the world was perfect, we wouldn't have to kill anyone. Master Alan was right. Even the worst person you can think of may, just possibly, be made better, and we can't be absolutely sure of how much freedom William had, when he chose to kill that boy. But the real world isn't perfect, there are only some things which are possible, and we have to choose between actions which are all imperfect in different ways. But when we choose, let's put innocent people ahead of guilty people, and helpless people and prey ahead of predators." "Thank you. Anyone else?" There was silence. I turned towards the mandala, and tried to find a way, any way, out of what lay before me. I searched and searched, but could not find anything. When I turned towards William again, my eyes were already wet. "I speak now before _Just Revenge_. The facts of the case are not in dispute. Master William tortured and killed a ten-year-old boy, solely, and this is by his own admission, to gratify his own desires. What is to be done with him? I cannot let him go free: it's clear from his own statements that he would, if he could, do it again. Moreover, a crime requires punishment and restitution. But what punishment can I inflict? We haven't the resources to confine him perpetually, and any less punishment would not be proportionate, and would be an offence to the dead. I could order him handed over to the State, but that would be to put ourselves at risk, since it is clear that he would tell any lies he thought necessary to get himself out of trouble, and I have no obligation to put our people in jeopardy for a person of admitted guilt. As for restitution, direct restitution is impossible, and for indirect restitution, genuine repentance and reform are necessary, and both from Mistress Chris's statement and from his own, it is clear that this is vanishingly unlikely." By now tears were pouring down my cheeks. "I have regard for Master Alan's concerns, which would lead one to suggest a period of confinement and attempted reform. But as best as I can see, such reform would not succeed, and after it we would have to release him, and he would very probably commit another dreadful crime, for which we would have to bear some responsibility. All roads are blocked to me but one. I have no alternative." For a moment I spread a hand before my face. "His life is forfeit." I had scarcely finished when there was an ear-shattering roar, and while it still echoed round the ballroom, William collapsed. Derek had shot him in the head from behind. He lay, a plume of blood and matter before him, and I stared in horror. "The Lady hold him," I said. - 91 Aron was beside me, and I collapsed into his arms, sobbing. Then Andrew and Tim were there too, and together they helped me to a chair and held me. "Look after Derek," I said. "Don't worry. Gavin and some others are with him." "Oh Aron, my love. If only this hadn't happened today." "No, that's not right. Someone had to do it, and only you could. I'm so proud of you I could burst. I am the slave of a great and wise man." I kissed him hard. Already the body had been removed, and the tiles swabbed. There was no sign he had ever existed. And beyond stood Derek, in Gavin's arms. I went to him, and we hugged; we said nothing; there was nothing that could be said. "Ladies, gentlemen," said Peter. "I know we have been through a harsh experience, but we still have a decision to take." "No, sir," said Desmond. "Although I was not involved in William's actions, I cannot but see that they besmirch me, and dishonour my candidature. I have no option but to withdraw." "Thank you, Master. That does you credit. Accordingly I declare that Master Paul's candidature succeeds. Master Paul." "Ladies, gentlemen. My thanks to Master Desmond for his honourable decision, and to Master Peter for guiding our deliberations. Let me announce that as I said I would, I am now appointing a Council of the Way to advise us in the governance of our community. For the present, should they agree, the following shall be members. Myself; Master Andrew; Mistress Chris; Master David and his slave, Tim; Mistress Green Lady; Master Derek; Slave Simon; Master Waheed; and Master Peter. I further designate Master Tol as the Judge of the Way. Thank you all for coming today. Mistress Chris." "It's has been a hard day, a day of many conflicts, and many hard emotions. I would suggest to everyone to think in the days ahead through the mandala _Peace_. _Peace_ is for peace, yes, and also for just struggle, and the correction of evil. And it is, in the end, for quietness, and tranquility, and silence. May we all find peace tonight, and may the Lady bless us all." Everyone stood and began to make their way out. I stood, looking round me aimlessly, unable to think. Aron was talking to Maxim. "Will the Council members please come over here?" shouted Paul, above the din. "Please join us, Tol." I stood by him, as the others assembled. "Thanks," said Paul. "I just wanted us to say to Tol how enormously grateful we are for what he did. That was a baptism of fire if you like, Tol, and I know it must have shattered you. But you did what had to be done, and that deserves all respect." There was a murmur of agreement. I was finding it hard to concentrate, but I found their support moving. "You said yourself that justice is sometimes not very pretty," said Maxim. "But it's still justice, Tol, and that's all we've got." "There's mercy." "Yes, there is; but he showed none of it. And we at least gave him a quick end, and a clean one, which is more than he did to that child." "After examining that child's body," said Waheed, "All I can say is that what you did, Master, was vermin extermination, that's all. You needn't have a moment's doubt or concern." "I wonder," I said. "Does it - does it get better? Easier?" "No. Never," said David. "Worse, in some ways. But - well, you learn ways of coping. Are you seriously wondering if you did the right thing?" said David. "I'm beginning to realise that I can only ever answer that question. I'm not allowed to ask it," I said. "You can ask Aron," said Tim. "That's what he's for." I looked at them curiously. "Thanks. That's a great help, Tim." "I won't keep you," said Paul. "Please everyone send me your contact details. And - blessings to all." We all hugged each other. "No one thanked you," I whispered to Derek. "But I do. I know what it cost." He looked at me with tears in his eyes, and patted my face, but said nothing. More and more people came to shake may hand, to exchange a few words, but I found it impossible to answer them coherently. And a few minutes later we were in Andrew's car, and gliding away. I was surprised to see that it was still only five o'clock. "Oh, thank god, Andrew, let's get the hell out of here. Just at the moment, I don't want to talk to any single one of them ever again. Do you know, some arsehole actually congratulated me on a great trial? I had to wipe William's brains off my boot, and he thought it was great. Oh, shit!" Then suddenly I was crying again, great heaving sobs of pain and grief. Aron held me, and it went on and on, and they said nothing. I clung to him helplessly, and gradually it stopped. "You have to say 'I' all through, not 'we'. That's what the books say, you must own your own judgment, you can't escape it. You alone are responsible." "Sod that," said Aron. "We all put you there. Every damn person in that room knew what the result would be, but we picked you to do it just the same. We were merciless. Nope, Tol. I don't know about any other judgments you make, but that one was obvious from the start. All you did was to tell us WHY we were doing what we all knew we would HAVE to do." Andrew laughed. "You're okay, Aron. Dead right." "You just watch me. No bullshit's going to get past The Judge's Slave, I can tell you." I leant into him and whispered in his ear. "You're my slave, Aron Chernik. You're mine, Aron Chernik. Aron Chernik is my slave. You're my slave, Aron Chernik..." "What's going on in the back there?" "Auditory masturbation," said Aron. "He's trying to get me off by whispering. It's working, too..." Andrew laughed. The car boomed along the motorway. "What did happen to Vladek?" said Aron, a bit later. "He just disappeared one day." "David and Tim sent him back to Slovia," I said. "He's on trial there for massacring a village. He'll probably be shot." "Good. He was a vile bastard. You can't imagine what he put me through. I think he was quite insane. He used to whip me every day, with a fucking great bullwhip, laughing and screaming at me. And he raped me most days. So did they all, sometimes six or seven of them, one after the other. William was another one, he was just as bad, worse, in a way, because he was so slimey. I was all alone and it was so terrible, I thought it would go on for ever..." He started to weep, and this time it was my turn to hold him. Andrew stopped the car and turned round. "Aron, love. We're all here to help you. It'll be mostly Tol, of course, but we're all here, and we all love you." "It's true," I said, suddenly realising something I hadn't thought before. "You think of our community, and it's all Master This and Mistress That. But that's the wrong way of looking at it. It's the slaves that are the real centre of things. It's people like you and Tim and Gavin. We're all in love with all of you. I don't mean like I love you, it's something a bit weirder than that. Something Colin said at my trial: 'All of us are a little in love with Aron'. And Anthony said: 'Certain submissives cast a kind of spell around them'. That's what it is. Andrew or me or David or lots of other Masters would any of us die for any of you. It's really true." "You're right," said Andrew, driving off. "That's the way it is." "Did you really remember me?" said Aron pathetically. "Every day. Every damn day. Every damn hour, in fact. I tried not to, but I couldn't help it. I thought you hated me. I thought I had no right to think of you, or to love you." "Oh, TOL!" "Right up till today. When he took that blasted gag out, I thought the first thing you'd do was spit in my eye." "No!! You were - you were my lifeline. I kind of told myself - one day Tol will come and save me from all this. And in the end - well, you did." "But why? I was really vile to you. Really - vile. "You don't know the meaning of the word, Tol, you wouldn't know where to start. I always knew that there was good in you. I said so, remember? I never believed you were all vile. I just told myself as every horrible day started, that somehow the good would come out and you'd come and save me." "It took a lot of people to do that." "It wouldn't have happened if there hadn't been something there. When Vladek showed me that video of you and them in that hut, he thought I'd despise you. But I didn't. You were strong and brave, and I was so proud of you, and I just felt that everything would turn out right..." We kissed and gradually fell asleep, hugging each other. "What are you going to do now, Andrew?" I said, much later. The car was purring through the little roads now. We were nearly home. "Get back to work. And - shit, Tol, I don't know. It's going to be - well, difficult for a bit. You know..." I felt an emptiness in his voice which made me deeply sad. I loved this man. "I think you should find yourself a seriously heavy bottom." "Oh, really? And who does the judge recommend?" I had a sudden thought. "Well, as I'm the judge, of course I'd recommend - a policeman." Andrew laughed. "That's a thought." "He's a nice guy, Andrew. You could do far, far worse." "I could at that." "Promise me you'll give him a ring. Promise, Andrew." "Okay, cute one. I hear you, and I will." - 92 Not long after that, we arrived at the cottage. It was dark now and cloudy, but a warm night for February, and I felt my spirit stretch and breathe. "I won't come in," said Andrew. "This is your time. I'll be round tomorrow so that we can move your car." We both hugged him. "Thank you, Andrew. Thanks for everything. I owe you so much." "You're one of the great ones now, Tol. We need you. And that makes it all worth while." He drove off. "Look," I said. "The snowdrops are out. Spring is coming." We both knelt to look at them in the light from the porch. "Don't pick them," I said, as Aron reached out a hand. "Give them a chance to grow." He smiled at me. "Take me inside." We went in, and I showed him round. "Tol, it's lovely. All just for us?" "Just for us. We'll stay here for a few weeks and wind down. Get to know each other. There're a few friends nearby and we can visit a bit. It's a holiday." "A bedroom for me? Why?" "You need a place of your own. Somewhere to keep your things and get away from me. Yes, you'll sleep with me most of time. But sometimes - well, sometimes you won't. Anyhow, people may come to stay, and they'll need a bed. Sometimes." He smiled at me. "I hope you aren't going to be too soppy as a Master. I need a touch of steel sometimes, you know. I hope they didn't - I mean, Tol, I hope you still have a bit of bite." "I have that reputation," I said, looking at him with narrowed eyes. "Tim said I was a cruel and evil bastard." "Fifty-two needles!" he said. "You'd better put more in me, or I'll get that little slut!" I laughed, and we kissed again. We couldn't stop touching each other, grabbing each other. I ran my hands up his chest and found his nipples, and pinched them. "Ooof!" His knees buckled. "Sensitive! I like." "They've - had a lot of work." He turned his head away from me. "Then I claim them." I pinched again, hard. "Look at me. This is my pain, Aron. Mine." He looked at me. His eyes were moist, but he grinned, tightly. "If you keep on doing that, I shall come." "No, you won't, slave boy. You don't have permission." "Shit! Everything you say turns me on!" I let him go, and laughed. "Come on. Let's get something to eat. I'm famished! I didn't get any lunch." "Nor did I. But that wasn't unusual." We went to the kitchen, and I started to fix us some omelettes. "How did Desmond treat you, then?" "Oh, he wasn't vicious, not like Vladek and his happy pals. No, he just locked me in a room and forgot me. They brought me two meals a day and left me alone. After I made a major fuss, they gave me some stuff to read - mostly trashy paperbacks. And that was it. He did get me a doctor to start with." "Yes. The doctor was reporting to Paul. They always knew what was happening to you." He was eating voraciously. I was awed by his appetite. I knew so little about him, and he had been viciously treated; he must have hot buttons all over him. This was immensely, desperately important, and I had to be so, so careful with him. "There's one room to see yet." "Really? What's that?" "That, slave boy, is the dungeon. Where you and I are going to spend hours and days and weeks, as I slowly, slowly explore you, inch by inch, spread you out on the table and slowly take you to pieces..." He was staring at me, and his face was crazed, wild. "It's going to be slow, and careful, and thorough, and agonising. And by the end, I'll know you through and through." "Master..." "Don't come, slave boy. Never come except when I say. Never. No sneaking off to have a wank. Never. If you need to come, tell me. Maybe I'll let you. Maybe I won't. But it isn't your decision. Do you understand?" "Oh god, Tol..." He could feel the chains tightening, and he loved it. I stood behind him, grabbed his hair firmly with both hands and pulled his head back. He gazed up at me, his mouth open. "Now come, Aron! Come for me now!" "Aaaah!" He convulsed and writhed beneath me, and I held him tight. "Shit, Tim was right. You are a cruel and evil bastard!" "You ain't seen nothing yet. Come on, finish your omelette. Then make us a cup of coffee. What's the point of having a slave if I do all the work myself?" He laughed and obeyed. "I haven't got any clothes." "We'll see about that tomorrow. Or the next day. How often are you going to need clothes, anyhow? Not a lot, boy, not a lot." He was warming up again, I could see. He was insatiable, and I was enraptured by him, drunk with him. "Now I'll show you the dungeon. And then, love, I'm going to whip you." His eyes widened. "Oh, Master. Oh wow. Master, I'm scared..." "You have your safeword, and your slowword. Trust them, and trust me. I'll never, ever take you too far. But I want this tonight, Aron. We must do this." He was indeed scared, terrified, in fact, but also intensely aroused. I was reassured. This was going to work. I led him into the room. "_Just Revenge_? In here?" "Yes, love. Just a reminder. Think of it as a promise to you." "Everything's going to be okay, isn't it?" "It already is." I turned him towards me, and kissed him. "Take your clothes off, slave." He did it. His dick was still wet with come, but it was already hard. I pressed him to his knees before me. "Get it out." He did it, and I could feel his hands trembling. I remembered that he had never seen my dick before. He licked just the head, as if testing it, tasting it, enquiring, and I felt shivers run up my spine. Then, to my amazement, he sank it into his throat in one movement. The world turned upside down, and I yelled. He moved over me, his tongue wrapping round me, his throat gripping me, and it seemed no time at all before I was coming in him, coming, spurting again and again, flooding him with the whole day's desire. "Aron, you're amazing." "I've had a lot of practice, sir," he said. "I claim it all. They had no right to it, and it is mine." He kissed me madly, his mouth still tasting of me, and my hands ran over his back. I could feel the ridges and lines they had left, and hate rose up in me. But we must do this. Suddenly it became crucial, a critical point. "Come." I led him to the cross. I could feel him trembling, but I gently pressed him to it. Then I bound him to it, facing me - I wanted to see his face - his arms and legs outstretched. He had gone completely soft, and now he was crying. I kissed him gently again. "You have your safeword, and your slowword. You have my promise. You are wearing my collar. You are completely, completely safe." "Yes, sir," he whispered. I knew the tool I wanted and I selected it; a many-tailed scourge in light, soft leather. "Now we start, little one." I struck gently, so gently, up and down his front and his thighs. It made no mark and scarcely no sound. He groaned, and he was becoming hard again. After a while I paused and kissed him. "It doesn't hurt at all," he whispered. "It's... it's lovely." I ran my hands over the places I had struck, and stroked his dick a few times. Then I started again, gradually getting harder and harder. He would be feeling it now, but gently, scarcely as pain at all. His eyes were closed and there was a little smile on his lips, the muscles strained in his arms and chest. He was beautiful. "Okay?" I whispered in his ear. "Oh yes, sir. Sir, it's still lovely." So I switched to a heavier scourge, and began again. He was really in pain now, I could tell, but he was still hard, and his moans were almost screams now, he was pulling at his bonds, and I realised I had done enough. I fell to my knees and took him in my mouth, gently squeezing his balls, giving just a little pain, and almost at once he screamed and came in a frenzy, wrenching and convulsing. I unsnapped him, and he fell into my arms, melting into me, and I could feel his sobs. I stroked his head and back, comforting him. His hands were on either side of my head and his face close to mine. "That's it," he said. "That's what I wanted all along." His face was streaked with tears, but he was smiling, his brown eyes soft. "Thank you, sir." "Thank you," I said. "That was enchanting. You're so lovely..." "It wasn't cruel and evil at all!" he said, leaning back. "Honestly, I was expecting to scream myself hoarse. I was expecting blood." "Not this time. Not for a long while..." "But one day?" "Don't know. It depends how you work. Maybe whipping won't be your thing, or maybe it will. Maybe it'll be something else. I don't know, but - we'll have a lot of fun finding out." "Take me to bed, Master. I want you to fuck me." "Sure? Not scared?" I looked at his body, and it still scared me. "Scared? Of being fucked by you? Not a chance. C'mon." And it was he who took my hand and led me into the bedroom. "I've never slept here, you know." "Really? A virgin bed. Excellent!" We laughed, and suddenly it was easy. I stripped and put him down on his back, and lay full on him. I could feel his whole body under me and his dick, hard again, against mine. We were kissing and moving against each other, getting more and more into it. "Hey! Stop this!" he said with a laugh. "You're not getting out of this! I want you IN me." I leant to get some lube from the nightstand. "I don't need that, believe me." "Nevertheless." I pulled legs apart, and licked slowly up and down his dick, sucked his balls gently. Then I licked back and back, till I got to his hole, and licked it round and round, and he yelled. "Ow! That's gorgeous. What are you doing?" As I thought. Those bastards hadn't condescended to this. I hated them more and more. But it was something that only the two of us shared, and I was pleased. I licked some more, savouring his moans and thrashing limbs, and then I went in. He yelled again, astonished, and I did it again and again, deeper and deeper, till I thought he might come just from this. Then I lubed a finger and gently eased it in. He was loose and opened to me by reflex, and this moved me so much I had to stop and kiss him, weeping, and he held my head. I moved my finger into him, and found his prostate, and again he yelled. Apparently they hadn't given him even this courtesy. I caressed it until again he was on the edge, and then I lubed myself, and slid easily, so easily, into him, and he groaned. I was still inside him as I leant to kiss. "You're mine, now. Every inch of you is mine, from your head to your toes, every single bit. And I'm going to heal you and make you well again, and everything will be all right for ever." "Yes!" he breathed. "Now fuck me, Tol. Do it! Fuck me hard!" I started to move inside him, and instantly he was screaming and thrashing. He was urging me on, demanding, shouting, and soon I was pounding him, lunging against him and down, right into his depths, and out and back. His heels were on my back, and he was biting my shoulders, screaming and sobbing. And then we came. "Thank you," he said. "That was the first time I ever had sex when I wanted it. That was the first time I ever had sex with someone I I didn't hate. That was..." "That was the first time you had sex," I said. "The rest was something else." He was crying quietly, and I held him. "Later we'll do it again," I said. "And later still... you will fuck me." He raised himself on his elbow. "What? Slaves don't fuck Masters! What are you talking about?" "This slave fucks this Master. Maybe not often, but sometimes. Because this Master likes it. Have you ever done that?" "No," he whispered. "Then we do it. Any complaints? Safewords? No?" "No complaints. I think you are the kindest and gentlest cruel and evil bastard I know." Then I was lying on top of him again, my elbows on either side of his head, gripping his wrists above him, and my legs crushed his together. He wriggled, assuring himself he couldn't move, and sighed. I gazed down at him, our faces inches apart, and I could feel his breath. "I think I could lie like this for ever." And then the thought came finally to the front of my mind. "I've wondered - why did Maxim agree to us going away together? Didn't he guess what I might do?" He looked at me solemnly. "He knew. They knew. Colin and Maxim." "What?" "They were almost certain you would." I was thunderstruck. "Then why did they let me?" "You had to be given your chance. The mandalas - they said so. Especially _Deep Undertakings_. It was necessary for you." "But - you agreed?" "They didn't tell me." I thought of Christmas Eve, and mistletoe. "They sacrificed you!" "Oh Tol." He smiled at me, and my heart melted. "It's so long ago. Everything's all right now. Kiss me, lover..." I bowed my head and we kissed, rain slanting through an evening storm, a rainbow. He writhed beneath me. And later I did fuck him again. And he did it to me, too. It was indescribably wonderful, and as far as I could tell, the Council of the Way didn't totter from the shock. Then he lay on my chest, my lovely black-haired boy, my sacrifice. And we slept. That night, I had the dream, the old dream, but this time it was different. This time, as I leant across Duncan, I wiped his hair back, and kissed his forehead, and his mouth, and then I said Let's try something different. And I squeezed him gently, teasingly, and he said Ouch and giggled, and then I did it a bit harder, and I saw his eyes blur, and I said Okay? Yeah, he whispered, and I did it again, and after I did it a few more times, harder and harder, he came. And I untied him and we walked back across the fields together, two fifteen-year-old boys, our arms round each other and secret knowledge in our hearts, and everything was all right. All right after all. Okay, that's not they way it happened; but it could have, and sometimes that's almost as good. I've never had the dream again. When I woke, I was crying quietly. I hugged Aron, and he moved in his sleep, throwing his arm across me, and I was content. I've been many things: criminal, prisoner, slave, Master, victim, abuser, top, bottom, friend, conspirator, sad man in a sad flat, corporate arsehole, lover. I've been all these things, and in a way I still am. I am the Judge of the Way. I am Aron Chernik's Master. Snowdrops grow in my garden, and foxes pay visits. It's all good. All so very good. END. 11-Aug-00 ====================================================================== NOTES ABOUT THE STORY First of all, thanks to everyone who has written. It really is very much appreciated. Is it autobiographical? No. Am I a Master? I answered this before: No. It's important to say this: I have no real experience of BDSM at all, and I make no claims of great insight into these things. This story is fiction; in other words, I made it up. Please, and this is important: don't do anything I say just because I said it. Find someone who really knows. Some of the things described in the story are actually quite dangerous in inexperienced hands, and some are certainly illegal in various jurisdictions. Be sensible. Safer sex? I didn't describe anyone using a condom in the story. But you should. So should I. Every time. We all live in the real world. Is there such a grouping as described in the story? No, I don't suppose there is. But there are BDSM organisations of various sorts in various countries. If you wish to contact them, I suggest doing a web search, or looking in your local gay press. Will I write more about these people? Not sure. Not for a bit, anyhow. Writing "Tol" was incredibly hard work and very emotionally draining, and it badly affected both my work and my personal life. I think it'll be a while before I do anything like that again. What about these mandalas? I made them up. I imagined this group of people who use mandalas to get in touch with the spiritual side of things, the Kindly Powers, as they say. I can't draw, so I haven't tried to draw the mandalas. Think of them as round designs which make you feel slightly odd when you look at them. See below for more information taken from the notes I used in writing "Tim" and "Tol" (if you're interested). ====================================================================== THE CARNCROSS MANDALAS OR THE MANDALAS OF THE WAY Each mandala is seen as having a real transcendent existence, apart from all the ones which people actually draw, which are called 'versions'. A person uses a mandala by connecting to the real one, and a version is a means to do this; but skilled people can do it even without a version. A mandala is a tool for making a connection between a person's consciousness and certain spiritual or transcendent facts or beings, what are called the 'kindly powers'. Using a mandala may look rather like meditation, although for some reason that word is not used; people tend to say they are 'thinking through' a mandala, rather than meditating on it. The process is seem as active and participatory, rather than passive and receptive. The question of whether the kindly powers have an objective existence, or whether the mandalas are actually connecting you to hidden parts of your own personality is endlessly discussed. A mandala is not a god or sentient in any way, but it does have something like a personality, in the same way that a building or a machine seems to have. As a result, different people have affinities to different mandalas. Most of what I know about the individual mandalas appears below. Your mandala questions answered ------------------------------- Why don't they all appear in the stories? Because they weren't all needed. Did I invent them all at once, before writing the stories? I invented some right at the beginning, when I was thinking about the story. Others got added later, and then I started to keep notes about them. Why is _The Good Regard_ called 'The Lady'? Because it seems to map quite well onto the attributes of the Great Goddess. When people in the story say 'The Lady' however, they are always talking about this mandala. When they say 'The Lady bless you' or something, this is just a shorthand for 'I hope you connect well with the things that mandala deals with'. But probably many of them are not clear themselves about all this. Not everyone is a sophisticated mandala scholar like Chris. Why does each mandala have a constructive and a destructive side? Because it does. What is the 'Time Sequence' of mandalas, mentioned somewhere? The mandalas are traditionally divided into a number of 'sequences'. The time sequence is mandalas 18-21. Why is there no mandala which deals with the kindly powers? Because they all do. Isn't _Emptiness_ rather an odd mandala? Yes, it is, isn't it? Isn't this all rather daft? Probably. Summary of the Mandalas ----------------------- 1 The Good Regard of the Kindly Powers "The kindly powers always and in everything have good regard for all of humanity" Personality: welcoming, happy, jolly Known as The Good Regard, The Queen, The Lady Happiness, companionship, good times, celebration, jollity Domesticity, hospitality, generosity, kindness Nurturing, protection, encouragement, guidance Agriculture, gardens, education Summer, the sun AND Pomposity, noseyness, interference, overbearing-ness AND Death, viewed positively Often hung in living rooms, guest rooms, etc as a blessing Laid on the breast of someone who has died Principally yellow, russet, orange, green Another symbol: an open fire, a flame, the sun ---------------------------------------------------------------------- 2 Bright Existence Personality: coolly and dispassionately charitable Goodness Pure charity Taking care of people and things, compassionate 'Tough love' AND Evil, depravity Hurting people, damaging things Self-righteousness Taking advantage of the goodness of others Another symbol: a lamp ---------------------------------------------------------------------- 3 Accidental Blessings "Everything that happens is a blessing" Personality: stoical, cheerful Acceptance of the inevitable, whether good or bad Creativity, excitement Happy surprises, gifts Rain, lightning; springtime; early morning Childbirth Falling in love AND Capriciousness, procrastination, fear Divorce, breakup of relationships Departure of guests, separation of friends Sudden disaster Often given as a gift. Invoked to help things in serious danger Another symbol: rain, lightning ---------------------------------------------------------------------- 4 Harvest Time "As you sow, so shall you reap" Personality: joyful Called The Blessed, Blessed One Success and culmination after long work and planning Happiness after long pain and sadness Mourning, comemoration of someone's life Meals The end of journeys Harvest time, late summer and early autumn, late afternoons Old age AND Bad results of misdeeds and omissions Retribution Things gradually going wrong Often given as a gift to someone who passes an exam, etc. Displayed in vehicles. Also given to people who have been bereaved, and presides at funerals Principally yellow and other harvest colours Another symbol: fruit, ripe grain, bread ---------------------------------------------------------------------- 5 Bitter Draught Personality: stoical Loss, failure Courage, bravery Things that are lost, lost causes Ruins, desolation Terminal illness AND Pointless repining Capitulation in the face of failure Invoked to find lost things, people, failing relationships, lost causes; even parking spaces, mislaid objects, etc Another symbol: something broken or ruined ---------------------------------------------------------------------- 6 Exact Endeavour "Anything that is worth doing should be done well" Personality: exact, controlled Skill; skilled work, attention to detail, care and precision, exertion Judgment, taking important decisions Using all one's abilities, making maximum effort, doing your best Tidiness, cleanness Control, controlling one emotions Night, winter Books, music AND Fanaticism, hysteria, cruelty Tyranny, dogmatism, overbearing pride Coldness, indifference, loss of love Displayed in workshops, surgeries, kitchens, other places of work, and where decisions are taken. Invoked before intricate tasks or difficult decisions. Principally different blues and white Another symbol: a book, a tool ---------------------------------------------------------------------- 7 Deep Undertakings "The only way out is through" Personality: courageous, adventurous, dutiful Called 'Setting Forth' Starting out, leaving on a journey, starting an important task Planning, foresight Risk, adventure Duty, obligation Civic duties, political duties Oaths Intentions, ambitions, complex motivations AND Plotting, conspiring Factionalism Ulterior motives, dissembling, deceit Avoiding duty Foolhardiness Invoked before difficult tasks, journeys Another symbol: a vehicle, a horse ---------------------------------------------------------------------- 8 Peace Personality: tranquil, courageous Peace Just struggle, putting things right Making peace Sleep Quietness, silence, rest AND aggression, anger, unjust struggle appeasement, failure to confront wrong indifference to the pain of others 'making a desert and calling it peace' Another symbol: a sleeping person or animal ---------------------------------------------------------------------- 9 Lurid Desires "Acknowledge your appetites" Personality: wild, sensual Called The Mad Dance Wildness, lack of restraint Sex, sexuality, sexual desire, sexual ecstasy Alcohol (especially wine); drugs; wild parties, orgies, etc Creative ecstasy Early summer, winds Wild music Carnivorous animals AND Hatred, brutality, murder, torture Brutal desires, rape, abuse Used as a sexual invitation, and between lovers. Presides over parties etc Principally yellow and scarlet Another symbol: an erection, a carnivorous animal ---------------------------------------------------------------------- 10 Blood and Pain Personality: cruel, long-suffering Called The Lord Agony, suffering Struggle, utmost effort, crisis, turning-points Self-sacrifice, redemption BDSM AND Disease, madness Cruelty Self-hatred, destructive guilt Presides over dungeons, etc Some Masters emboss it on whips, etc Principally reds and black, looks like a wheel with a rim. Another symbol: a wheel, blood ---------------------------------------------------------------------- 11 Fierce Endurance "We endure together" Personality: enduring, determined, loyal Submission, dominance D/S relationships Submissive or dominant acts Hierarchical organisations, armies, command, management Being a good subordinate Government, constitution 'You and me against the world' AND Abusiveness, breaking of safewords Formalistic or trivial D/S Breaking of submission, dishonouring of submission Tyrannical rule Mob rule, pointless rebellion Another symbol: round things, eg, rings, collars ---------------------------------------------------------------------- 12 Forthright Avowal Personality: frank, blunt, truthful Faithfulness, friendship Speech, language Truthfulness Good sex Communication, clarity of communication Messages AND Treason, breaking of undertakings Lying, untruth Misunderstanding Manipulativeness Another symbol: a pen, a bird ---------------------------------------------------------------------- 13 Dancing Storms Personality: mischievous, ironic, humorous Humour, the bizarre, the unexpected Things that aren't what they seem Constructive mischievousness, stirring things up Irony AND Delusion Misuse of humour Destructive mischievousness Another symbol: a hare, a monkey ---------------------------------------------------------------------- 14 Within and Without Personality: deep, introverted, mystical Self reflection, Understanding of self The Mandalas themselves Mysticism Recursion, doing things at different levels, self-reference AND False mysticism Misunderstanding of self Misuse of the mandalas Solipism, self-absorption Superstition Another symbol: a bowl ---------------------------------------------------------------------- 15 Surroundings Personality: objective, down-to-earth The material world, nature Facts, the way things are Science Natural growth and development Causality The way things are connected Unbiasedness, impartiality Food, nutrition AND Bad myths, pseudoscience, misinformation Distortion, perversion, growing malformed Bias, corruption Things falling apart, becoming disconnected Invoked before meals Mostly green and white Another symbol: a tree ---------------------------------------------------------------------- 16 The Myriad Things Personality: creative, excited, intuitive The characteristics of things Multiplicity and complexity Specificity, diversity Excitement, works of art, creativity Intuition AND Chaos, disorder Unpredictability Things falling into one another, dissolving; entropy Another symbol: granular things eg sand, sugar etc ---------------------------------------------------------------------- 17 Common Light "The sky is above us all" Personality: calm, collaborative Identity, difference, sameness Unity Taking counsel The sky Teams, collectivity, loyalty to one's own AND Bland sameness Xenophobia, hostility to those not of our group Displayed in meeting rooms, council chambers etc Another symbol: the sky by day ---------------------------------------------------------------------- 18 The Endless March "Things repeat but are never the same" Personality: wise, contemplative, accepting Iteration The seasons, phases of the moon, times of day Stages of life Underlying relationships, connections and similarities AND Things repeating but never changing Pointless routine, pointless ritual Another symbol: the moon ---------------------------------------------------------------------- 19 New Life "New life brings news from afar" Personality: Lively, excitable, naive Innocence Childhood Awakening, awakening from innocence Very early morning AND Ignorance, especially willful ignorance Bigotry Innocence betrayed Another symbol: a baby, a young animal or plant ---------------------------------------------------------------------- 20 Change Personality: interested, keen, innovative Change The natural end of things, death Novelty, innovation, inventions Revolution AND Things ending before their time Pointless change, inconstancy Another symbol: something newly discovered ---------------------------------------------------------------------- 21 Forever and Always Personality: constant, reliable Things continuing, continuity Eternity, immortality AND Stagnation, sterility Another symbol: the sea ---------------------------------------------------------------------- 22 Wise Doubt "Take care" "Find another way" Personality: careful, canny Consideration, moderation Suspicion Preparing for possible problems Canniness, street smarts, knowing your way around Premonitions of danger Doctors and medecine AND Rootless suspicion, paranoia Cynicism Hung in surgeries Dark colours Another symbol: a knife, a scalpel ---------------------------------------------------------------------- 23 Just Revenge "Payment is made" Personality: cold, objective, methodical, ruthless Justice, retribution, judgment, right and wrong Self-respect Fairness, even-handedness Mercy AND Self-righteousness Disproportionate rage Priggishness, hypocrisy Merciless application of rules Barrack room lawyers Another symbol: a sword, a weapon ---------------------------------------------------------------------- 24 Exchange and Balance Personality: fair, just, forgiving Apology, recompense, just punishment, forgiveness Fair dealing, fair trade Legality, proper procedures, traditions AND stuffy respectability, bureaucracy meanness avoiding the consequences of one's actions haggling, an eye to the main chance Another symbol: scales ---------------------------------------------------------------------- 25 Two Hands Personality: even-handed, compromising Appropriateness Moderation Creative ompromise, mediation AND Cowardice Failure to take necessary measures Failure to take advantage of opportunities Inappropriate excess Another symbol: hands shaking ---------------------------------------------------------------------- 26 The Emptiness Blank mandala: any mandala All the unknown mandalas Any mandala Things the mandalas don't know about God AND Non-existance A single empty ring Another symbol: stars ---------------------------------------------------------------------- The Mandala Sequences --------------------- 1 The Good Regard of the Kindly Powers (in no sequence) The Life Sequence 2 Bright Existence 3 Accidental Blessings 4 Harvest Time 5 Bitter Draught The Endeavour Sequence 6 Exact Endeavour 7 Deep Undertakings 8 Peace The Relationship Sequence 9 Lurid Desires 10 Blood and Pain 11 Fierce Endurance 12 Forthright Avowal 13 Dancing Storms (in no sequence) The Existence Sequence 14 Within and Without 15 Surroundings 16 The Myriad Things 17 Common Light The Time Sequence 18 The Endless March 19 New Life 20 Change 21 Forever and Always The Justice Sequence 22 Wise Doubt 23 Just Revenge 24 Exchange and Balance 25 Two Hands 26 The Emptiness (in no sequence) ======================================================================