214.Chapter Eighteen(15)
“we–want–thewhip!we–want…”
andallofasuddentheyhadwhattheywanted。
“strumpet!”thesavagehadrushedatherlikeamadman。“fitchew!”likeamadman,hewasslashingatherwithhiswhipofsmallcords。
terrified,shehadturnedtoflee,hadtrippedandfallenintheheather。“henry,henry!”sheshouted。butherruddy-facedcompanionhadboltedoutofharm’swaybehindthehelicopter。
withawhoopofdelightedexcitementthelinebroke;therewasaconvergentstampedetowardsthatmagneticcentreofattraction。painwasafascinatinghorror。
“fry,lechery,fry!”frenzied,thesavageslashedagain。
hungrilytheygatheredround,pushingandscramblinglikeswineaboutthetrough。
“oh,theflesh!”thesavagegroundhisteeth。thistimeitwasonhisshouldersthatthewhipdescended。“killit,killit!”
drawnbythefascinationofthehorrorofpainand,fromwithin,impelledbythathabitofcooperation,thatdesireforunanimityandatonement,whichtheirconditioninghadsoineradicablyimplantedinthem,theybegantomimethefrenzyofhisgestures,strikingatoneanotherasthesavagestruckathisownrebelliousflesh,oratthatplumpincarnationofturpitudewrithingintheheatherathisfeet。
“killit,killit,killit…”thesavagewentonshouting。
thensuddenlysomebodystartedsinging“orgy-porgy”and,inamoment,theyhadallcaughtuptherefrainand,singing,hadbeguntodance。orgy-porgy,roundandroundandround,beatingoneanotherinsix-eighttime。orgy-porgy…