Chapter 17

The sun was setting on Alison’s birthday, as she, Eva and Claire sat on a bench in the park facing the empty bandstand – waiting. It was getting a little chilly on this autumn evening, so most of the outdoor fucking activity of the day was winding up – apart from one solitary couple about fifty yards away on another bench. They were both dressed in tight black leather, but the man’s cock jutted though his fly, and he was doggy-fucking his partner through an unzipped flap in the rear of her trousers.

“Thanks for coming with me, guys,” said Eva, as she sat, nervously looking around and up and down the path.

“Well, we’d never leave you alone with that dickhead,” said Claire, not making any attempt to disguise the contempt in her voice. “Who the fuck does he think he is, summoning you out here to meet him?”

“I don’t know, Claire: he sounds like he’s in trouble,” said Eva, her brow furrowed as she studied the crumpled note over and over.

“Well, serve him fucking right!” replied Claire. “After the way he treated you – and Alison. If he’s left the RAF and is working at that Hospice place, then he’s got what he wanted, hasn’t he? Well, what he fucking deserves, anyway ... What’s he got to complain about to you?”

In the distance, Alison could just see the man in black now kneeling behind his partner, his face pressed up against her bare buttocks. “But it’s dirty, mistress!” his voice echoed across the grass.

“Then fucking clean it, slave!” shouted the woman, slapping the man’s bottom with a riding crop while pulling his head forward so that his face was buried in the cleft of her ass.

The girls giggled – but were cut short by a sharp whisper from a rhododendron bush behind them. “Eva!” it said.

Eva froze, fear etched on her face. Alison and Claire looked around.

“Eva!” came the voice again. Eva trembled and grabbed Alison’s hand, shifting toward the edge of the bench as if to get up. “Eva, I’m sorry, I need your help!” came the voice from the bush. Eva hesitated.

“Chad?” said Eva.

“Please don’t run away,” came Chad’s voice. Now Alison recognised him – but it wasn’t the voice which Alison remembered: arrogant, cocksure and cruel. Yes, it still sounded like Chad, but it sounded nervous, fearful, and sad – Chad cut down to size, Chad defeated.

Alison turned to look at the rhododendron. “Chad, what the fuck are you doing hiding in that bush? Come out if you’ve got something to say!”

“Don’t turn around, Alison, please. Then they’ll know I’m here: they’re probably watching. Just keep looking ahead as normal. Please listen, I need to talk to Eva.”

“Well, it doesn’t sound like Eva wants to talk to you. And who the fuck are ‘they’?

Chad ignored Alison’s question, but addressed Eva instead. “Eva ... please listen to me. You’re the only person I can talk to. You’re my only... friend.” Chad pronounced the last word with such a level of despair that even Alison and Claire were beginning to feel worried.

“I was never your friend, Chad,” replied Eva angrily. “I was just your slut. And you treated me like shit. Now fuck off.” She got up again to leave.

“Eva, please don’t go, please, I beg of you, don’t go – I’m sorry, I know I’m a dickhead. I know I treated you like shit. And I’m ... oh God, I’m so sorry...” The voice from the rhododendron was sounding desperate now. “Please help me. I need your help. I don’t think I can live with myself any longer. Please...” Chad’s voice broke, and all that could be heard now were soft, low sobs. This was Chad as Alison had never heard him before: broken, desperate, desolate.

Eva took a deep breath, before resuming her seat and saying, “What do you want, Chad?”

“I can’t explain it all now. If they see me talking to you, they’ll cull me. And if I spend too long here, they’ll miss me, and they’ll know I’ve been talking to someone. Is there anywhere we can meet in secret? Then I can explain everything. Please?”

Eva paused in thought, before saying, “Chad?”

“Yes?”

“Can you come tomorrow morning, Sunday?”

“Yeah ... Not sure when I’ll be able to sneak away, but I’ll try. Where?”

“38B Tottenham Cunt Road. Knock twice on the green door. I’ll meet you there. I’ll be there from first thing in the morning. Come as soon as you can. But don’t let anyone see you.”

“I’ll be there. Thank you, Eva. Thank you!” There was a rustle in the bush, and then silence.

“Chad?” said Eva again. But he had gone.

It was getting dark – but from fifty yards away the leather-clad woman, now sat on her bench with her legs splayed and a large black dildo in her cunt, could be heard shouting, “Now, slave, fucking piss in my mouth while I jerk myself off!”

“Yes, mistress,” said the man, as he stood up, aiming his cock at her face. “As you say, mistress.”

The chilly November evening closed in. And the sun set.

“Who exactly is this young man, Eva?” asked Father Ambrose. It was the day after the encounter with Chad in the park, and Claire, Alison and Eva were in the chapel at number 38B, watching as the dark-skinned priest trimmed the altar candles after mass. Alison and Eva had both made some effort to dress modestly: Alison had even put on a pair of panties under her skirt. But Claire looked very out of place in a crotchless whole-body red fishnet outfit, which she was trying in vain to conceal under a transparent latex coat. She shuffled from foot to foot as she made a conscious effort not to look sexy – which was very difficult for her.

“He was a student at the RAF,” said Eva. But rumour has it that he was kicked out – uh, for attacking Alison here, actually – and is now working for the Princess Asshole Hospice.”

Father Ambrose grimaced. “Oh, I see. That place has a bit of a reputation, you know.” He moved across to a small Lady Altar, and began clearing away spent devotional lights.

“For what?” asked Claire, rather loudly. Aware how out of place she felt, she was making little attempt to disguise her dislike for Father Ambrose, his chapel, and all things religious.

“It is where all Undesirable illegals apprehended in the London area get sent. Your father was culled there, was he not, Eva?”

“Yes.” A shadow passed over Eva’s face.

“And this boy works there? And yet he wants your help? To do what?”

“I don’t know. But he sounded desperate. And the only safe place I could think of to meet him was here.”

Father Ambrose took a deep breath. “Of course you can meet him here, Eva. If he is in trouble – as he appears to be, then we must be here to help. Why don’t you and your friends wait here in the chapel, until he shows up?”

“Thank you, Father,” replied Eva. “Thank you.”

Father Ambrose smiled kindly and nodded. “I have some paperwork to do in my office. But I’ll come and join you as soon as he arrives,” he added reassuringly, as he left the chapel.

There was an awkward silence, as all three girls sat on separate front pews, partly facing each other, partly facing the altar. A small red lamp flickered above the tabernacle, an understated reminder of a Presence – which even Alison felt she could not entirely ignore. She shifted awkwardly, almost as if she felt watched. She closed her eyes, and the feeling became more clement. “Perhaps,” she thought, “not ‘watched’ so much as ‘watched over’ ... Fuck, this is heavy...”

Her introspection was interrupted by Claire. “This is so fucking boring, this place,” she complained, as she diddled her pussy-lips absent-mindedly. “Don’t they even have a screen so you can watch fuck-flicks?”

“Not in this kind of church, Claire,” replied Eva, smiling. “But if you’re feeling horny, why don’t you and Alison go outside and have a quick fuck?”

“Can we do it in the bathroom, like last time?” suggested Claire, helpfully.

“You know, Claire, best not,” Eva giggled. “It was kinda obvious that time!”

“Really?” replied Claire. “Okay, outside then. You wanna come, Alison? I brought a Mars bar: you could fuck me with it and then eat it out of my cunt!”

“Oh, that’s sweet, Claire,” replied Alison. “But why don’t you just go and jerk off on your own this time? I’d like to sit here a while.”

Claire looked disgruntled, but left, muttering under her breath. “What is it about this church? No one wants to fuck! Fucking weird, if you ask me...”

Eva and Alison sat, looking silently into the middle distance for a while, until Alison asked, “Is this where you came to church when you were a kid?”

“Yeah. My parents were married here. And they used to bring me and my brother here when I was tiny – though I don’t remember it from then. After my parents were exiled, Rob and I actually lived in the presbytery here. Father Ambrose agreed to take us in – until Rob was old enough to have a place of his own and look after me by himself.”

“That must have been hard.”

“Well, mentally maybe, but not physically. We lacked for nothing, and Ambrose is a kind man. The main challenge has been trying to join all of this up” – Eva gesticulated at the chapel, the altar, the tabernacle with its gently flickering light – “with the world of fucking outside. In here is a sanctuary of peaceful, self-sacrificial Love. Surrounding it is a whole world of hedonistic Pleasure. It’s inevitable the Pleasure, the fucking, will win. It’s just louder...”

“Yes, but beyond all that is another World!” replied Alison. “Love comes from Beyond. Remember what you told me, Eva: God is Love!”

Eva looked at Alison quizzically. “No ‘vert’ like a convert, eh, Al? You don’t really believe that now, do you?”

Alison paused, deflated. “I don’t know ... But I wish it was true,” she sighed. “I wish there were somewhere I could escape to, where my self-worth didn’t depend upon how well I fuck, how many dicks I can fit in my ass, how much cum I can eat...”

“Well, there is the Outside World, remember? My parents lived there for years. My brother and my mother are there now.”

At the mention of Rob, a flash of unexpectedly happy reminiscence came over Alison. “How’s Rob doing? You know, I never understood him before – but sitting here, thinking about the things Father Ambrose said to me, about sacrifice, and giving things up for the people you love ... well, shit, I guess I feel a bit bad for him – I...”

Eva waited. Alison swallowed, and finished her sentence: “ ... I feel sorry for him, and grateful. He did a really kind thing for me.”