Devil's Fire (23 page)

‘You can help with this part,’ Quentin told his assistant, and then they licked the excess nougat from around the chocolate mould. I giggled and squirmed, still held in Elvira’s gentle grip, until Zee shooed the two men away from me. When she applied a final dusting of cocoa powder, my false front matched the rest of my body so perfectly, the unknowing observer would think I’d been born with Sybil’s ample endowments. For further support, Vee criss-crossed a boa of woven grapes and cherries around between my protruding breasts, and then fastened it at the back. Another length of these artfully strung fruits slithered around each thigh and was tugged up into my chocolate-powdered pussy, and wrapped at my waist.

‘The queen needs a crown and a sceptre!’ Paul announced theatrically, and Quentin produced them from beneath the counter nearby. I stood very still as a cluster of pale green grapes, fitted on to a tiara sparkling with hard candy, was anchored into my upswept hair.

‘Your jewels, madam,’ Elvira breathed as she arranged my headpiece. Grinning, she then handed me a sceptre of imposing length. ‘And if any man at Heaven’s Gate tells you he moulded this around himself, I hope you’ll introduce me to him!’

We all laughed as I surveyed the chocolate rod, which resembled an erect cock and stood at least thirty inches high. Jewels of hard candy were embedded in a ring beneath its ridge, and a stream of crystallised white nougat rose out of the hole to flow along one side. Indeed, my bizarre costume and the jovial faces of my friends had me believing the rites of the vernal equinox might be a party awash in chocolate gaiety, until Sybil stepped in front of me. With utmost solemnity, she fastened a gold hoop on to each of my ears, and then stood back to study me.

The kitchen grew quiet. My cabin-mate circled me slowly, adjusting the cherry boas and testing the weight of my oversized chocolate bosom. Without a word, she reached up to arrange the grapes in my tiara. I kept waiting for her impish smile to appear, so I could believe Mrs Goodin and Father Luc had been threatening me only for effect — that they, too, would be laughing and carousing in a candy-coated orgy when I appeared before them.

But when she stopped in front of me, Sybil remained as serious as I’d ever seen her. ‘Remember what I told you,’ she said softly. ‘Tease them, and lead them astray, and make them wait. They’ve been anticipating you for weeks now, and you mustn’t let them down. You mustn’t disappoint them, Mary Grace.’

The abbot’s final words about not handling disappointment well echoed in my ears, and I suddenly wanted a place to hide. I gazed into Sybil’s wide green eyes, but she was giving nothing more away in the presence of her friends…friends she would continue to live with after I’d gone, if her plan worked the way she wanted it to.

I was searching for words — anything to express my gratitude and stall my arrival in that sanctuary — when the back door flew open. In stepped an angelic vision arrayed in white, wearing a voluminous gown of layer upon gossamer layer of iridescent silk, complete with wings that shimmered in the light from the fire. We gazed at her in awe, trying to guess who hid behind the white satin mask.

‘Father Luc — and Hyde! — have been waiting too long!’ the visitor proclaimed, ‘and all the others clamour for your presence, Mary Grace. It’s time to meet your fate.’

There was no mistaking Hortense Goodin’s voice, or her vengeful grin.

I looked longingly towards Sybil, but she’d disappeared. With a pounding heart, I followed my warden towards the sanctuary.

‘W
hat a disgusting spectacle!’ Mrs Goodin muttered as she ushered me through the main doors. ‘You’ll pay for your defiance, young lady, because the abbot requested that you wear white, as befits a celebrant. I’m tempted to scrub you down and present you dripping wet and naked, but you’ve kept them waiting too long as it is.’

I smiled to myself: I could recall when such a diatribe would’ve had me pleading for mercy. Sybil had taken my fate into her own hands, however, and I trusted her judgment. If only for a moment, the element of surprise would be in my favour; I felt a smug delight knowing I’d broken Father Luc’s rules. Mrs Goodin, in her spotless white attire, was trying not to touch my chocolate-coated skin, so perhaps she wouldn’t participate in the ceremony.

When she swung open the door to the sanctuary, however, my previous fears returned. Incense stung my nose, and I wondered if the vapour from Brother Christy’s censers contained opium. This would explain the higher pitch of his Latin chant as he strolled along the aisles with the ornate, smoking vessels. All the other residents sat awaiting my arrival, anticipation etched on their faces. Even the kitchen crew had slipped in, eagerly looking on from the front row at my left — except for Elvira, who gazed at some point above my shoulders, and Sybil, who focused on the floor. Her presence puzzled me, for I’d expected her to arrive after my ordeal began. Only the thought that she worked her secret mischief on my behalf kept me from a state of utter panic.

The pews were shifted to either side of the sanctuary, so everyone faced a large, open area with a table in its centre. Father Luc overlooked this arena from his majestic chair, in the elevated chancel. His face reddened as he stood for a closer look at me, but his wrath wasn’t what made the bottom drop out of my stomach: Hyde Fortune sat in the high-backed chair alongside the abbot’s, looking serenely detached, as though he couldn’t care less about my welfare.

Had he betrayed me, too? The thought stabbed my heart like an ice-pick, and I nearly lost my nerve. Just as the abbot opened his mouth, however — probably to lecture me about my appearance — the congregation jumped to its feet, clapping wildly. Mrs Goodin gripped me gingerly by the wrist and led me to the stage, clucking as the catcalls became raucous. The mayhem reached such a deafening level, Father Luc tried several times to restore order.

I maintained a solemn expression, but I was secretly thrilled. Sybil was right: these people all wanted a piece of me. So rather than entering as though for my execution, I should hold court. The choice was a matter of attitude, but it was mine, even if I couldn’t predict its outcome. I tried not to feel uneasy about the way Sybil, Elvira and Hyde sat — as though oblivious to the chaos around them, unconcerned about my predicament.

Finally, after several minutes of uproar, my audience sat down. Still they murmured among themselves, pointing at my exaggerated breasts and the garlands of grapes and cherries wound around my privates, until Father Luc thundered above them.

‘Silence!’ he proclaimed, raising his hands. ‘Your encouragement of Mary Grace’s misbehaviour appalls me! The rites of the vernal equinox remain a sacred tradition at Heaven’s Gate, and I won’t tolerate such sacrilege. We’ll observe a moment of silent prayer, during which you will properly prepare yourselves for the ceremony.’

The faces around me looked anything but penitent as heads bowed. Ahmad wore his habitual other-worldly expression while gazing at his erection. Brother Christy held his forehead, as though regretting what had come to pass. The rest of them wiggled like chastised children determined to make mischief again as soon as the abbot turned his back.

When quiet organ music encouraged meditation, my eyes flew open. Elvira always played for our services, so how could she possibly be seated beside Sybil?

I stole a glance behind me, up into the organ loft. Sure enough, my friend of blended gender winked into her organ mirror…which meant the ebony-haired wench on the pew was made of wax. As was the Sybil seated beside her. And if these two mannequins from Brother Christy’s gallery had been planted prominently to mislead me, this explained the lack of emotion on Hyde’s face, as well.

Hope welled within me, but it was short-lived. If the man beside the abbot was fashioned from wax, where was the real Hyde Fortune? Had Hortense tricked me by saying he’d come up the mountain? Or had Father Luc locked him away?

The abbot’s Latin incantation brought the prayer to a close. Those around me inhaled, as though fortifying themselves with the smoke hovering around our heads. Father Luc focused on me as he descended the chancel steps. ‘You may be seated, Mrs Goodin.’

My warden walked to a pew at my right, her voluminous skirts rustling.

Father Luc approached me, his expression taut. I returned his gaze, considering him a wizard who might resort to sorcery, to frighten me into denying Hyde and remaining at Heaven’s Gate. Indeed, his crimson stole bore mystical symbols I’d never seen, and when he stopped in front of me, his piercing eyes reflected its blood-red colour.

‘Why have you defied my order to wear a ceremonial robe of white?’ His voice carried like a ventriloquist’s, coming from several directions at once.

‘I wasn’t informed of your orders. I went with Mrs Goodin, and did as I was told.’

‘Don’t mock me, Mary Grace!’

I stood taller, knowing I shouldn’t mention Sybil’s part in this. ‘You’ve told me of your love for chocolate, sir! So why would I question being coated with it — and then strung with cherries? You’re fond of those, too, I understand.’

Laughter erupted around us, until the abbot’s scowl restored order. ‘Cheeky little whore! You’ve disobeyed me since the moment you arrived. You will now confess the sins of your wayward nature, so you’ll be cleansed for the ceremony.’

Was it time to stall, as Sybil had instructed? If Father Luc had imprisoned Hyde, he might have had my wily cabin-mate locked away, too. Until enough time had passed to be certain, I needed to play this charade carefully. I glanced behind the abbot. ‘You mean confess publicly, so everyone — even Hyde — will know I’m unworthy of the celebrant’s role?’

He grinned maliciously. And as he circled me, I detected a protrusion beneath the front of his cassock. ‘Loud and clear, Mary Grace. Mr Fortune should know exactly how you’ve behaved in his absence.’

‘But Father Luc, I —’

‘None of your wheedling! Or are you afraid your benefactor will no longer love you, and will leave you here for eternal punishment?’

I refused to let this nasty abbot play upon my doubts. ‘I’m not afraid, sir!’ I blurted. ‘My honey’s dripping down my thighs, and I’m ready for the licking I so richly deserve!’

Once again the sanctuary rang with laughter and applause. As Father Luc’s face reddened, I saw my chance to distract my audience until Sybil appeared — or didn’t. When the crowd grew quiet, I extended an arm towards my tormentor, swaying so my chocolate breasts shimmied. ‘I suppose, since you’re the abbot, you’ll want the first taste of me.’

Father Luc scowled as the hoots and hollers rang around us. ‘Don’t toy with me, Mary Grace,’ he warned. ‘I’ll take what I want — at your expense.’

He spun around and stalked back to his chair. Trusting Sybil’s view about this ceremony being an amusement, I stood at the base of the chancel steps, where all could see my face while I recited my sins.

‘How many of you witnessed my arrival, when Mrs Goodin flung open Fortune’s carriage door?’ I spoke out. ‘How many caught me after the act, licking the come from his cock?’

Grins flickered, and several hands were raised.

‘And how many of you wished yourselves in Hyde’s position?’

Additional hands arose, as did the volume of their chatter.

I glanced towards Hortense in her white finery, and then twisted to look at Father Luc, whose eyes were fastened on my bottom — until he saw the way my chocolate breasts teased him from this angle. ‘Yet the abbot insists my sins are the exception rather than the rule here! So let’s review my misbehaviour one incident at a time, and you can be the judge of my guilt.’

I turned to face Father Luc, addressing the waxwork beside him. ‘Shall we re-enact that notorious scene that sullied my reputation, Hyde? Drop your pants, dear man. Let me suck your lovely cock.’

The room rang with expectant silence. As I suspected, most of the onlookers were so excited about the rites being celebrated early, they hadn’t noticed the lifelike figures seated among them.

‘I’ve instructed Mr Fortune not to speak,’ the abbot said imperiously. ‘He has a great deal at stake here, so he’s wisely complied.’

I didn’t push my point. The congregation had been alerted to Father Luc’s illusions, so I continued along a path I prayed wouldn’t lead to disaster before Sybil showed up.

‘Perhaps you would like to enact my next sin with me, then,’ I suggested boldly. ‘You ordered me to remove my dress when Mrs Goodin brought me into your office. You saw the hole in my bloomers, and made me admit they were soaked with my come. And then you wanted to sniff them!’

‘That’s enough, Mary Grace!’ the abbot warned, leaning towards me with a menacing glare. ‘These are your shortcomings we’re confessing here.’

But my audience was warming to my methods. ‘Did Father Luc yank your clothes off?’ somebody called out.

‘Did he fuck you right there on his floor?’ another one asked.

Slipping my hand into my crotch, I backed towards the centre of the sanctuary. ‘No,’ I replied, ‘but he told me I was unclean, and made me strip. Then he called Mrs Goodin, and watched while she scrubbed me all over…especially here, between my legs. The hot water brought out the scent of Hyde’s jism and my own juice, until our illustrious housekeeper was sniffing around my cunt like a depraved dog — and Father Luc was fondling himself!’

‘You’ll go straight to hell for such lies!’ Hortense cried, bouncing up from her seat. ‘I was cleansing you in the interest of your immortal soul —’

‘Oh, shut up!’ somebody cried. ‘You and the abbot go at it like rabbits, and we don’t care! I for one want to help Mary Grace re-enact the scenes of her sins. I’m ready to stand in for Hyde, right now!’

I turned to see Brother Ben — the balding, bespectacled man who’d licked the frosting from my fingers — parting the folds of his tunic to reveal an impressive erection. The men around him clapped him on the back, noisily egging him on. Mrs Goodin protested loudly, while the abbot again called his followers to order, but the pandemonium only increased. I didn’t really want to carry through Brother Ben’s challenge, but I had to answer to my actions. When I brazenly raised my arms and shimmied my chocolate bosom at him, however, the crowd suddenly turned their attention towards the door.

‘I see Sybil is whipping you into a nice hot lather,’ our new arrival teased, ‘but since these are my sins we’re confessing, I should help her, don’t you think?’

My mouth fell open, but then I grinned as though I’d been expecting such a grand entrance. I should’ve known she’d concoct such a creative foil for me.

The woman strutting down the aisle was my identical twin: her russet hair swung from a Psyche knot, in rhythm with her dangling gypsy hoops, and each step made her candy tiara twinkle in the light from the wall sconces. Her skin was cocoa velvet. Her moulded breasts protruded with lewd chocolate allure as she walked, naked except for the boas of woven cherries and grapes, which wound between her breasts and filled the cleft of her shaven pussy. She was grinning at me, approaching with open arms.

‘You’re perfect!’ I murmured gleefully

She arched an eyebrow as only Sybil could. ‘You’re just now figuring that out?’

The crowd roared its approval when we met in a full body hug. As Sybil pretended to nibble my ear, she whispered, ‘Let’s keep their attention on us, rather than on Luc and Hortense. Less chance of retaliation that way.’

‘You’re right,’ I replied, careful not to crack our breasts as we undulated. ‘The man beside the abbot is made of wax, and Brother Christy has also placed likenesses of you and Elvira on the front pew.’

Sybil arched backwards for a better view of this situation, so I imitated her, pressing my pussy into hers. The applause became deafening, covering our further conversation as she leaned into me again.

‘I could’ve sworn Fortune came in here with Father Luc. But don’t worry,’ she whispered urgently, ‘his carriage is hitched up outside, ready to go. And there’s Brother Christy, slinking off with my counterpart. Let’s call his bluff. Those statues might be our best friends before this is over.’

Grabbing my hands, she spun me in several tight, fast circles — a ploy to mix our identities more completely — and let go with a giddy laugh. ‘Brother Christy! Brother Christy! Has someone become ill?’ she called to the retreating monk.

His crumpled expression belied a plan gone awry but, with everyone watching, he had to stop in the aisle.

‘Why, Sybil — it’s you!’ Sybil cried to her likeness.

‘By God, you’re right!’ I replied in a matching voice, following her across the floor. ‘But how can that be? I feel fine — and I’m certainly better dressed than my lookalike! What do we have here, Brother Christy?’

As the people in the pews craned their necks, the friar blushed furiously. We’d caught him in a difficult position that might lead to trouble, so I quickly continued. ‘If you fashioned this figure yourself, you’ve done a fine job! I never knew you created waxworks, dear man.’

‘They say imitation’s the highest form of flattery, and if I were Sybil, I’d be greatly flattered!’ Sybil chimed in. ‘Of course, the true test of the sculptor’s skill would be to remove the clothing.’

‘Oh, Mary Grace, you’re always ripping off my clothes!’ I crowed. ‘We might as well strip her, in case these fellows can’t wait for their turn with us, don’t you think?’

As we spoke in matching stage voices, Sybil was relieving Brother Christy of the female form he carried. She started towards the table, cradling the mannequin in its sitting position, while I paused beside the front pew. ‘What about Elvira here? She’s looking left out. And rather stiff-necked about it.’