Talla's Temple Ch. 25

"No, Mistress," she said meekly.

"Good," the older woman responded. "Women are not to be possessed. We are free beings; beings of strength -", she flexed her arms without unfolding her hands, "- beings of intellect. We drive this society and maintain its health and happiness as we have done quite successfully for centuries."

She paused again to observe Talla.

Talla looked straight over the woman's head and gulped.

"The crime is Monogamy," she called out formally, "to which the accused has freely confessed."

It was louder than necessary, really, given that all eight of the room's occupants were within a few steps of her. Talla waited. The next thing that the Adjudicate was going to do was tell her what her punishment was.

But ... nothing.

The Adjudicate merely looked at her in a somewhat unpleasant fashion, as if waiting for something else to happen. Was Talla supposed to say something?

She swallowed reluctantly but was saved the embarrassment of trying to speak when a door to her right clicked open. Was there going to be an audience? Was that part of the punishment -- to have people watch her and add to the humiliation? The Adjudicate wasn't reacting.

Talla didn't want to turn her head. She didn't want to see who was coming to watch her suffer under the whip. But her eyes, unbidden, veered to that side of the room. When she saw who was coming, her entire head turned in shock.

Shanata?

That just made her feel stupid, not embarrassed. Here was the one person who had come yesterday to warn her against doing what she did and taken a risk to give that warning. And what had she done with Shanata's sacrifice? She had gone ahead and done the stupid thing anyway and exercised insufficient caution while doing it, in spite of the warning.

Failure. I failed Shanata.

Lips pursed together, Shanata came and stood next to her.

"Identify yourself", the Adjudicate said, all formal.

"Shanata, daughter of Entek out of Marletta."

"Shanata out of Marletta. By what right do you stand here?"

"The convicted and I are sisters," Shanata said. "We shared the kiss."

"Very well, Shanata, sister of Talla," the Adjudicate said. "You have something to say in the defence of the convicted."

That's why Shanata was here? To defend her? But she'd already been convicted. She'd confessed. What else was there to say?

Shanata folded her arms defiantly, orange drapes of cloth from her elbows rearranging themselves to align with those hanging off her hips. It was only then that Talla noticed what her sister and former teacher was wearing. She had never seen Shanata dress this way. She hadn't even known the woman possessed such clothing.

This was the formal wear of a teacher in the dorms outside the Temple. It spoke of delicacy, knowledge and power. It meant that the woman wearing it didn't have to do any manual tasks at all. While it's floating panels of orange fabric did not cover the important parts of her body any more than the bikini top and bottom, it gave Shanata an aura to match that of the Adjuciate.

"There are a number of factors which should be considered before a sentence is pronounced," Shanata enunciated.

Talla watched out of the corner of her eye as Shanata ticked off her fingers, one at a time.

"First, Zhair'lo was both Talla's first Conduit and Virgin's Choice, and that inappropriate affection is common in such cases."

"As we are well aware," the Adjudicate said. "Go on."

"Second, by Zhair'lo's transfer, Talla received four upgrades," Shanata stated. "This unprecedented experience was painful for both of them. The shared experience may have contributed to building an unusual emotional bond between them."

"A bond that it is our duty to break," the Adjudicate declared.

"Third, the receiving of that quadruple upgrade was an extraordinarily painful experience for Talla," Shanata said. "It is quite possible, and should be taken into consideration, that it may have addled her wits for some time afterwards."

"You're arguing mental incapacity?"

Her voice was incredulous.

"No," Shanata replied, "merely that her judgement may have been impaired in a way that we did not detect."

"My records show that she was recently given a Strength upgrade -- an Extraordinary," the Adjudicate answered back. "If you were worried about the effects of her quadruple upgrade, why did you pile on more?"

"Perhaps this court needs a reminder," Shanata put in stiffly, "that there are serious dangers in carrying a large number of Abundance upgrades without the Strength upgrades to back them up. It was the medical judgement of a physician of Sweetness that led to that upgrade."

That was cold. It was all Talla could do not to glance at the breasts of the Adjudicate. That pair was even smaller than Talla's.

"Very well. Do you have any further defence?"

"Only that the court be reminded that this girl joined the Temple less than one moon ago and has undergone a considerable amount of pain and disorientation," Shanata concluded simply.

"We are not without mercy," the Adjudicate said. "However a crime of this magnitude can not go unpunished."

"No," Shanata agreed with a twist of her lips. "Of course not."

The iron-crowned woman turned to Talla.

"Do you have anything to add in your defence?"

Her throat was dry. She wasn't sure she could speak, never mind form sentences.

"No, Mistress," she croaked out.

The Adjudicate waved a hand at one of the Virgin girls behind her. This one stood and dislodged one of the heaviest whips from the wall. This was brought and laid on the desk in front of Talla.

"I will now explain to you how you will be punished for this transgression against the very orthodoxy of the Temple," she intoned as she stood and took the whip in her hand.

"You will do exactly as you are told. You will follow the script I lay out for you perfectly. Deviate from it and you will feel the barbs of this whip. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Mistress."

The Adjudicate turned to look at Shanata.

"I am -- required to leave now, sister" Shanata told Talla.

"Thank you, sister," Talla blurted out, trying to hold her composure.

Shanata marched out. When the door clicked, the Adjudicate began her instructions.

-----------===================-------------

Every step he took in the wake of the two armoured guards was a step that brought him closer to Talla. She was near and she was frightened. The more he walked, the more determined he became of her fear.

The guards led him up a set of stairs to a doorway and silently indicated that he should enter the room beyond. It was a small and simple wood walled office. From his left, the space was dimly lit by rays of sunlight shining through small slits in the wall. On his right, it overlooked a lower floor full of rows of wooden benches. The back wall was covered in dark brown curtains.

A very pretty woman wearing a long orange robe, her jet black hair held tightly by an iron circlet, sat behind a small desk with her hands folded together. She smiled in a way that frightened all nine hells out of him.

"Zhair'lo, is it?" she asked, pushing one of the two glasses on the desk toward him.

"Yes, Mistress," he replied.

"Close the door behind you and have a seat," she said cheerfully. "Have a drink. I understand it was a long walk."

"Mistress," he said with a nod.

The door closed with a smooth click and he sat on the small wooden stool in front of her desk, taking the glass in his hand. She took a deep draught from her drink and so he did the same. Ice cold water mixed with some sweet, clear fruit juice. It should have been refreshing. Instead, it made him feel dizzy, burned down his throat and weighed heavily in his stomach.

The woman took a breath and cocked her head at him somewhat sadly.

"My name is Sonja," she said. "I am an Adjudicate here in the domain of Form. It is my duty to correct the behaviour of those who have, shall we say, gone astray of the law. Do you understand?"

Zhair'lo gulped and nodded.

"Sorry. Couldn't hear you."

"Yes, Mistress. I understand."

"You have fallen in the way of some very unfortunate events," she went on with a shake of her head. "Not your fault, of course, but here we are nonetheless."

Not his fault? What did she mean?

Sonja stood at this point and walked over to the balcony on his right. She swept her robe backwards so she could put her hands on her bare hips. Even in his frightened state, Zhair'lo was shocked by the sight of her body. He'd never seen a woman built like that. Every step -- every movement -- showed muscles twitching in her thighs and calves. Her stomach rippled and her smallish breasts, tightly covered by her small orange top, were a distant second to the muscles of her chest. Her arms were just as strong as the rest of her. He watched her triceps flex as she turned her wrists.

She could shatter his body if given the excuse and probably chew up the pieces without losing that smile on her face.

"It's a curious thing, really," she said while peering out over the room below. "The laws of the Temple don't allow us to punish men for any crime that doesn't harm women. We leave all other matters to your brothers."

"In fact," she went on as if discussing a legal curiosity, "you would be in a greater degree of trouble for refusing a woman's Service than you would for accepting it -- at least from our point of view."

A heavy sigh, then, as he watched the muscles in her chest flex and relax. She turned to face him, leaning on the ledge with her ankles crossed and her stomach muscles tense to hold her upper body in perfect posture.

"But you see, here we are," she said with a wave at the room below and behind her. "Talla should not have done what she did. It is one of the gravest crimes in which a woman could involve herself."

She glanced at the ceiling, pursing her lips in what Zhair'lo thought was a transparently false attempt to appear thoughtful.

"What good would it be for you if each woman Served only a few men, or a single man?" she asked. "It would never balance. Some men would be Served more, some less, some rarely at all. How would that be? Oh, the unfairness and the jealousy. It simply wouldn't do."

She peered at him.

"And you wouldn't want that, would you?" Sonja asked. "The same woman every night? How boring, right? Think of all the blondes, the redheads, the brunettes. Think of all the things you'd be missing. Sure, someone like Talla has large breasts, larger than mine even. But what else is out there? What about muscular women -" she peered at him playfully and flexed a bicep, "or those women with the muscles inside."

Sonja looked down at the small triangle she had made with her fingers over top of the scant material of her bottom. She met his eyes and raised her eyebrows.

"There are women in my Division who can do things with their mouths -- well," she made another theatrical pause, "you'll see in due time."

"But again, none of this is your fault," she repeated. "It was Talla's offer -- her repeated offer -- that is the problem. It is that which we must correct."

Another pause for a pretend moment of thoughtfulness as Sonja touched her chin with a finger. Her voice and manner turned stern.

"All the same, of course," she said. "I do wish to -- let us say -- discourage you from making future arrangements with Talla. Just for the sake of propriety, you understand?"

She stared at him, narrowing her eyes.

"You understand?" she repeated, a little more loudly.

"Yes, Mistress."

"Good," she said, standing up and letting her robe fall back around her body. "Come along, then."

She opened the door and led him out.

They went back down the stairs he had just come up and turned to go through a set of large oak doors that had been closed when he'd gone by them.

He found himself trailing Sonja's orange robes through an absolutely cavernous wooden hall full of empty benches and narrow strips of sunlight. The sense that he was closing in on Talla became quite acute, so much so that he hadn't really taken stock of the room he was in.

A chill went through him. He suddenly had a notion that he'd been here before. But he hadn't. He was remembering Talla's memories. Things were missing from those memories, things Talla had desperately tried to hide. He knew what this room was for, but why was he here? If they weren't allowed to punish him, then -

"Stand here," Sonja said as she stepped to the side.

Talla.

There she was, standing in front of that table that he knew all too well from her memories.

Her eyes met his, cold and lifeless. He knew the eyes were lying. She was frozen with fear, right up to the muscles in her face. She felt a lot, even though her face showed nothing. He knew that because, at this distance, he was inside her head.

They stood facing each other for an eternity, uncountable and nameless emotions bouncing back and forth between them.

'I'm sorry,' he said into her mind.

'Me, too,' she answered.

Something was pressed into his hand as a movement at the corner of his vision caught his attention.

Sonja was holding a whip. It was the nastiest thing he had ever seen: a coiled snaked with sharp barbs along every centimetre of its length. Zhair'lo looked at it in horror. She was going to hit Talla with that! That wouldn't leave those red rashes and lines of blood that he had seen on Talla's friends -- it would rip her skin entirely!

"It's the most amusing thing, really," Sonja said as she touched a finger to one of the barbs and retracted it with a twitch. "We're not allowed to punish men, but we are allowed to make it very clear to them what the consequences are of breaking our rules."

Zhair'lo was sweating now. She was going to torture Talla as both punishment for her and an object lesson for him. But Sonja didn't realize what was really going on. No one -- and that included Zhair'lo and Talla -- fully understood what the mental link between them was. Regardless, he knew that he would feel every bit of pain she caused Talla.

"So the choice is up to you."

Choice, what choice did he have? To leave or to stay? That seemed unlikely. He looked at her, waiting for an explanation.

She nodded at his hand and, compelled, he looked down.

He held the handle of a whip there, its thin tail extending to the ground.

His eyes widened in shock.

Oh, nine hells, no!

"Zhair'lo," Talla said stiffly, no longer meeting his eyes but looking straight over his head to the entrance of the dark hall. "You have to."

Sonja beckoned to the girls in white who sat along the back of the room. Two of them came forward and stood next to Talla.

Zhair'lo watched, holding the whip in his hand, as Talla slid her skirt off and handed it to the attendant. Her little pair of white underwear, a match for what still lay in his dresser back at the farm, was next to go. One Virgin attendant folded each garment and handed it to the other.

Talla's top went next. His heart skipped, seeing those beautiful breasts revealed. He felt the skin on his forehead becoming warm, threatening to sweat. His breathing sped up. What was going on?

Naked, Talla turned her back to them and leaned over the table. Her wrists were fastened down.

"Well, then," Sonja said as she approached Talla. "Here we are."

She touched one of the barbs to Talla's flesh. Zhair'lo flinched as he felt Talla's pain. Sonja dragged that barb across Talla's rear, making a light, red streak across both cheeks. Zhair'lo bit his lip. He didn't need to see Talla's face to know how that felt.

"When I tell you to strike, you will strike here," she said, indicating the line she had made. "If you do not, I will."

She took two steps back and stood with her hands on her hips.

'Do it,' Talla thought at him. 'She really will hit me if you don't.'

'I'm sorry', he beamed back at her.

"Raise your whip," Sonja instructed.

Nine gods, she was still smiling.

'No,' he thought, frozen to the spot.

Sonja raised her whip.

'Do it,' Talla insisted. 'You have to.'

Zhair'lo raised hand and held it back behind his shoulder.

"Now!" Sonja commanded.

'Do it!'

He tensed, his arm driven forward against his will, a machine like a miller's wheel doing only what the laws of motion insisted it do.

Cringing in preparation, he heard it crack off of Talla's tender pale skin only a moment before he felt searing pain shoot through his own body.

Gods! The pain!

"Again!"

He breathed through the pain, pulled his arm back and lashed out a second time. He refused to watch where it struck her body, refused to let her see -- through his eyes -- what he was doing to her. This was worse than the upgrade. He hadn't understood the dangers back then. It hadn't really been his fault.

But this.

This he had seen coming. He had seen her memories of what the Temple did to those who stepped out of line. He'd seen M'lis's bleeding ass. He'd seen Adria being struck. And even then, he'd consented to one more dangerous meeting. And now she was suffering, and so was he.

Because as that second strike seared across her rear, he felt every inch of her pain as if it were burning a path through his own body. He wobbled dangerously, dizzied by the mesh that held their minds together.

"That won't do, Zhair'lo," Sonja said. "Again, and harder, or I'll see to it myself."

Talla begged him to do it again. He knew that he had to. She certainly believed that this was no idle threat. As he raised the whip a third time, he felt the mesh shiver.

'No. No you don't,' he demanded.

'We don't both have to suffer,' she replied.

'I won't -'

"Again! Now!"

Jarred by the interruption, he lashed out, striking Talla's cheeks harder than before. Agony swept through his body, starting in his own rear and lighting up his spine like some kind of anti-orgasm.

Talla used the pain - used his own involuntary recoil -- to rip at the mesh.

'I won't let go!'

'You must!'

'No!'

"Again!"

His heart was going to kill him. Breathing had become short and erratic as the beating of his heart throbbed in his ears. His stomach was nearly ready to turn, tensing up every muscle he had from his rib cage down to his groin.

Without any other option besides watching the red lines across Talla's skin become large and brutal tears, he raised the whip and struck her a fourth time.

'Let go!' she demanded, using the pain to force them apart.

'Never! I won't abandon you!' he declared.

But he was losing the battle and he knew it. It was like climbing a rock wall during a earthquake. Every tremor loosened his grip a little bit more. It might have been possible to hold on, but someone was stepping on his fingers at the same time.

"Again!"

Even though he was looking away, he could see the telltale flash of red that told him blood was trickling from the wounds he was inflicting. He struck again, madly, determined to see this thing through and come out the other side before Talla could shake him from his hold.

Pain. Oh, gods, such pain as he had never felt. And his mental fingers, losing their grip, Talla stepping on every one of them in an effort to free him from having to share her burden.

"Again!"

It came so close on the tail of the last blow.

There was a moment of intense agony, an instinctive urge to run away that he fought like a bucking horse, and then a sudden disconnection that felt like a thing dying, like a small animal having its life taken with a quick snap of its neck.

Zhair'lo shook his head, utterly disoriented. There was Talla, bent over the desk in front of him, bleeding in thin little rivulets, and he felt nothing. She'd done it. She'd broken the mesh, disconnected from him completely.

"Enough!" Sonja called out, stepping between him and Talla.

Enough? Gods damn it. They'd only had to hold on for one more.