Dans le Murs (Part 13)

“You will be an attractive woman very soon Catherine.” I smiled admiringly at her, “Your body is already exciting. You have pleased many boys?”
She fidgeted, the question had struck home sooner than I expected. “Ahhh … I would not say many my lord.” she mumbled.
I continued to smile. “Of course not Catherine.” my voice was kinder now, “You are still young, many would not be a proper number for your tender body. Maybe just three or four eh?” She nodded, half-heartedly.
“Three, four, exactly how many Catherine? I fired at her.
Her face was pale. “I cannot remember exactly my lord.” she was close to crying.
“You are twelve and you cannot remember how many boys you have pleasured?” my questioning was persistent, “Surely then you remember your first.” She nodded.
“Tell me of him Catherine.” I relaxed in my chair as if waiting, “What was he like? Was he a little large for you? Did you play with him before he penetrated you? Did he leave his semen inside you?”
“He was older than me; I think fifteen.” she began steadily, “About sixteen centimetres long and circumcised. He let me touch him before we had sex; it got very wet. It hurt a little when it went inside for the first time but not for long. We had sex for a long time before he had to come. When he came I felt it warm down there. It was funny but very nice.”

“It sounds like you enjoyed your first sex Catherine?” I prepared to pounce.
“Oh yes my lord.” she smiled for the first time, “Very much.”
“You will tell me the lucky boy’s name Catherine.” I challenged her, “Then I can congratulate his tutor – off the record of course.”
“Oh … Mmmmm …? It was …. I forget things.” she hesitated then more confidently, “Of course, it was Novice Rupert.” I quickly scanned the lists on my desk and found the précised notes about Rupert. Interestingly they told me he was thirteen not fifteen and very backward. He could hardly maintain an erection let alone ejaculate and was certainly not circumcised.

I did this seamlessly before replying. “I am sure Rupert enjoyed such a lovely young body.” I said, “He was a lucky boy Catherine. Now, you will show me what Rupert enjoyed; remove your underclothes.”
She was about to question then changed her mind and simply unhooked her brassiere and pulled down her briefs. She was quite attractive in a pubescent sort of way. Her breasts were little more than shaped swellings with dark pink nipples pointing slightly upwards. Between her thighs the pubic hair had just begun to sprout and hardly shaded the slim, tight lips of her vulva. Behind my desk I eased my erection from my robe, issued a silent apology to Nahdya, and smeared the rosy head with lubricant.
“Come here Catherine.” I beckoned.
She hesitated then obeyed, her eyes widening and taking a sharp breath as she saw my penis as she rounded the desk.
“I would like you to sit on my lap Catherine.” I commanded. “This should cause you no problem as it is only just over sixteen centimetres and you are quite used to that.” I stroked the stiffness suggestively.
“I … I … It is …. I am not … It will hurt me!” she began to cry.
“Nonsense Catherine.” I spoke with increasing authority. “The fact that I am older than Novice Rupert is of no concern to you. Your loyalty is to the temple and High Table and I am certainly not large compared to your first boy. Come, take it inside and pleasure yourself.”

She began to move as if to sit astride me then collapsed on the floor, sobbing and wailing. “I cannot my lord.” she sobbed distressingly. “I lied to you; I am a virgin; your organ would injure me.”
“That is of no concern to me.” I shouted. “I command you to sit astride me and accept everything inside your body as our temple teaching requires.”
Catherine’s face twisted and reddened. “No, I won’t!” she screamed, twisting to try to escape. “I hate your temple and I hate you! I hope you all rot in hell for what you do here! I don’t have to do what you tell me to do!”
My hand flew out and the back caught her on the cheek. She touched it and sobbed, muttering to herself.
“Who put you here?” I asked calmly.
“Fuck you!” she spat. I hit her again. “Who sent you?”
“You are nothing to my friends.” she snivelled.
“So you admit you are a spy?” I faced up to her. “Just tell me who for, it will be more comfortable.”
“Go fuck yourself, MY LORD!” she screeched hysterically. “You daren’t hurt me.”
“Oh, on the contrary Catherine,” I sneered, “we can hurt you a great deal, starting very soon.”
I opened the door and quickly instructed Melanthe to bring Brother Oscar to my chambers at once. When I returned Catherine was grey and shaking. She had heard of the TP also.
“You don’t have to face Brother Oscar.” I advised her. “Just tell me who sent you.”
She howled dismally and shook her head. “I can’t; they would kill me.”
“We would protect you if you tell me.” I said, trying to shield her from an ugly experience.

She shook her head, I shrugged.
“You will tell us, that is certain and then you will be thrown out.” I said. “You will be at their mercy; I hope it is worth it.”
There was a knock at the door. I opened it and Melanthe guided in a large West Indian man in purple robes. He was over 1m98 with a short neck, muscular and built like a brick privy. He carried a large case. He bowed regally to me then entered. He noted the naked girl and smiled a grim smile as he stood between her and the closing door.
“You sent for me my lord.” his voice was deeply rounded.
“Regretfully I did Brother Oscar.” my face did not show pleasure. “Novice Catherine has admitted to me that she is a mole for an unknown organisation. Unfortunately she feels unable to give me the identity of that organisation; it is important that we know it.”
“Doubtless she will tell me, my lord.” he spoke seriously. “However I must remind your Worship that I have absolute authority once you hand the case to me. My methods can appear a little barbaric to the more delicate palates; if this is of concern to your Worship then perhaps another path can be sought?”
I ensured that Catherine heard this, in itself a form of mental torture, hoping that she would reconsider her silence; she didn’t. I really had little choice. I turned to Brother Oscar. “I thank you for your caution brother. Unfortunately I need to know the identity of this organisation and how much danger we face sooner rather than later. I had hoped that Sister Catherine would be sensible but it seems that you frighten her less than they do. I am sure you are able to correct that misapprehension. By the authority invested in me I formally hand Novice Catherine over to your care.”
“NO!” she screamed. Melanthe paled.

“The decision was yours and yours alone, my child.” I said softly. “It must have been clear to you that you left me no other choice. Take her away Brother Oscar.”
Oscar bowed then hesitated. “She is very immature, my lord.” he observed. “Perhaps just a little immediate discomfort will loosen her tongue.”
“Discomfort?” I repeated.
“It is known that I have a large sexual organ.” he began with a smirk, “Possibly the sister would care to sample it.”
“Large?” I queried.
He nodded. “I have been measured at about twenty eight centimetres long and about seventeen and a half centimetres around. I suspect the sister would not enjoy that.”
“I suspect a horse wouldn’t enjoy that!” I replied with a slight wince. He grinned as he stroked his crotch.
“Brother Oscar,” I began, pointing to a thick rug. “Novice Catherine may not be quite what she seems so make yourself at home.”
He raised his eyebrows in enquiry but when none was forthcoming, bowed and began to remove his robe. As it dropped both Melanthe and I could see his massive penis. It was the size of a forearm at the wrist and jutted out from a weighty pair of testicles. Already the skin was crinkled around them and the circumcised head shone as he wiped juice over it. He opened the case, took out a small tube of KY and covered the head and shaft. “Don’t want to tear myself.” he said nonchalantly. “She is going to be tight.”
He turned to Catherine, gripped her and threw her to the rug. Then, none too gently, he spread her slim legs until her labia opened slightly. Licking his finger he slid it into the slender gash, shuffled it around a little then pushed hard. It sunk deep into her and she squealed and wriggled to no avail with over one hundred kilos of man holding her.
“Tingly tight.” he announced, “She is going to feel this.” He pulled out.

He squeezed behind the head, took the bubble of juice on his fingertip and wetted her passage.
“OK girlie.” he looked at her, positioning himself between the thin thighs, “Last chance to tell before your eyes water – or worse!” She screwed her eyes, squeezing the tears as the blunt knob pressed against her labia and parted the now slippery lips. His gluteal muscles clenched as he thrust against her, not remitting one bit as he forced the bulky shaft into her tiny vagina. The sob became a shriek as he rammed home centimetre after centimetre, stretching her immature body beyond its limits. Oscar gripped her shoulders and thrust viciously against her, trying to force himself into her womb and causing her severe cramps. Again and again he drove his hardness into her, an evil rictus on his face.
Oscar groaned. “I’m going to shoot into her!” he yelled as he forced his penis inside even harder.
His head flicked back, his mouth wide open as guttural gasps erupted from it. At almost the same moment Catherine shrieked a blood-curdling cry, her head thrashing. “Stop, stop!” she howled, “Opus Dei! Ohh, it hurts so much! It hurts, it hurts!”
“Opus Dei.” I thought, “Opus Dei, of course. The ultra conservative Catholic secret organisation.”
“Enough!” I shouted to Oscar, “Let her be, NOW! We have what we want!” He jerked back, his massive penis sliding from her pubes with a sticky plop. It was covered with slime and bright red blood, thick semen was still bubbling from the tip. Oscar knelt and we could see the blood dribbling from the young girl, bright blood, haemorrhaging blood; he had damaged her internally.
Melanthe took one look and shot out of the door calling for medical aid. I signalled Oscar towards the bathroom while I knelt beside the ashen girl.
“Opus Dei?” I queried, “Give me a name, just one name child. Don’t put yourself through that again.”

She gasped in pain; I felt sick but knew it was necessary. I leant close to her drooling lips to hear.
She almost hissed a name. “Broder van Oostermolen.” Her head rose then she mercifully passed out. Melanthe arrived with two medical sisters who quickly analysed the situation and tended the bleeding girl while Melanthe was sent for transport. I simply sat down out of the way while I considered her outburst. “What the hell was Opus Dei getting involved for? OK, we didn’t exactly preach good Catholicism but we certainly didn’t preach against it. I guess many of our members were once Catholic but surely they were free to choose? Obviously not. The orphanage! Of course, it had to be. It was fundamentally aligned to Rome but the temple was inextricably linked. Somehow Opus Dei and its agent Broder van Oostermolen had become involved and decided that we were a threat. We had to plug the leak and quickly or our world would collapse around us.”

The two sisters were attending Catherine as a trolley appeared in the doorway followed by Melanthe with Lalith close behind. They lifted the pallid form onto the gurney, covered it and moved quickly out. Lalith waved Melanthe away, closed the door and looked questioningly at me.
“Extreme measures my lord?” she enquired.
“Regrettably yes madam.” I replied. “I found it necessary to involve TP but the result justified the means.” She flinched at the sound, I continued. “She is an agent of Opus Dei and her ‘handler’ for want of a better word, is a Broder van Oostermolen.”

Lalith gasped. “Opus Dei!” she hissed. “Merde! We must call High Table immediately. Perhaps your methods were not so extreme my lord, given the threat. Will she live?”
I shrugged and shook my head. “She was injured internally but to what degree I don’t know; all I do know is that she was haemorrhaging quite badly.”
“Oh dear.” she said with not a lot of sympathy. “Let us hope she talks before she departs.” There it was again, the willingness to simply snuff out a life in the right circumstances.
“I think we must appraise the Grand Master of this immediately.” I said. She nodded and we walked briskly towards his quarters.

End of Part 13

Watch out for Part XIV – Defectives and Detectives in which Colin discovers that Lalith’s assistant isn’t quite what he first thought. Representatives from High Council interrogate Colin and the team manage to outwit the infiltrators. Colin learns a little more about the sect and Simone is unwittingly placed at risk.