Many thanks for your comments! This is what makes writing so much fun!
More on Thomas Christian and the Ultimate Challenge
Thomas Christian performs one last service
Evening. Shot of Spanish mission-style house which served as setting for Ultimate Christian Challenge.
The atmosphere is festive. Music blares. Bright lights illuminate the main room. Softer lights adorn the verandah. Cut to interior. Cast members and invited guests mingle. Drinks circulate. A few couples dance. Everyone is casually dressed. At the center of attention is a stylish woman of about 30 wearing a strapless party dress. She is known as Ms. Aubrey. She is the owner of the house, which she rented to the producers of Ultimate Christian Challenge
. Thomas Christian stands nearby, talking to cast members. Ms. Aubrey signals for him to accompany her to the verandah.
Fade.
Thomas Christian and Ms. Aubrey stand on the verandah. A full moon casts a pale light on the scene. It highlights Aubrey’s bare shoulders, her prominent collarbones, the muscle tone of her thin, bare arms, her swan neck. Her face is angular with a strong jaw line. Her mouth is heart shaped, her lips a natural red. She is smiling. She has short black hair styled into ringlets that drop around her ears. Her black eyebrows are trimmed into alluring arches. She speaks in a soft voice.
Aubrey: (
Archly) Mr. Christian, I have something to discuss with you.
Christian: I am your humble servant, madame.
Aubrey: Good. Now, I’m going to lead you down the garden path, so to speak, so we can have more privacy (
steps down from the verandah to the path).
Christian: Are you sure that’s wise? A man…in my position…
Aubrey: Mr. Christian, you must learn to trust me (
she extends her hand; he grasps it and steps down. They begin walking) I’ve turned out the path lights. No one will follow us.
Thomas Christian and Ms. Aubrey amble to the grassy clearing where the whipping trellis still stands in stark outline against the pale moonlight. .
Aubrey: (
Playful but arch) Oh, look! Those chains are still hanging down, and those funny, old-fashioned manacles. I wonder who could have left them here.
Christian: (Suspiciously) I wonder.
Aubrey: (
Toying with the chains and manacles) Mr. Christian, I have a proposition for you. You still owe us money. (
Christian nods) Let me keep all this paraphernalia and I’ll reduce your bill by, let’s say, half. And it will save you the trouble of taking it all down and the cost of storing it.
Christian: (
Puzzled) Yes. I accept your offer. Of course. But why? What would you do with all this?
Aubrey: Oh, I might want to build a chapel someday. (
Looking at him intently; even more arch than before) Or maybe invite my friends over to play.
Christian: Ms. Aubrey, this is not play. It’s serious business, even dangerous if you don’t know what you’re doing.
Aubrey: (
Her voice softening to a near whisper) Well, that’s where you come in, Mr. Christian…Please come closer…don’t be afraid; after all, I’m just a helpless little girl. (
She grabs the chains in mock bondage. Christian approaches. They are now just inches apart. Aubrey’s tone turns suave, her voice a stage whisper). Maybe you can help me…and defray even more of the costs…You can start by unzipping my dress. (
Christian is taken aback) It’s really very easy, Mr. Christian. (
Aubrey slips her wrists into the manacles and snaps them shut) All you have to do is put your arms around me…(
she cocks her head, fetchingly)…and pull down the zipper.
Christian: (Annoyed) Ms. Aubrey, this is a dangerous game too.
Aubrey: (Pretending to be offender) Mr. Christian, I’m a damsel in distress!
Christian: (After a pause, resolute) I will do as you ask, but then I’m going to fetch the key and unlock those manacles.
Christian puts his arms around Ms. Aubrey. She smiles. He unzips her dress and steps back. The dress falls to her feet. Aubrey kicks it away. She is completely naked. Christian gives a start, but he can’t keep his eyes off her nudity. During the ensuing dialog, the camera pans the woman’s body from feet to fingertips. She has adopted a languid pose, with one leg planted slightly ahead of the other, leaving her pubic patch in shadows. Her hips are high, accenting the curves of her long, sinewy abdomen. Her breasts, even with her body held taut against the chains, are rounded, their lower curves casting a distinct shadow on her chest. Her nipples are round, dark in color, with prominent spikes in the center. The pale moonlight is so sharp it picks out the tiny white dots that have emerged around her erect nipples like goosebumps. Her breathing is pronounced, making her breasts shift and her ribs stick out like an ivory staircase.
Christian: (Nonplussed, almost angry) Ms. Aubrey, I’m going to get those keys now.
Aubrey: (Sheepish) You won’t find them.
Christian: What do you mean I won’t find them?
Aubrey: (With a wry smile) You see, I’ve hidden them. Only I know where they are.
Christian: Ms. Aubrey, I must insist!
Aubrey: I’ll tell you where they are…after we’re finished.
Christian: Finished! Finished with what?
Aubrey gazes at Christian balefully.
Christian: I should go immediately and find a locksmith.
Aubrey: But you won’t. You’re a man. Men rarely do the right thing.
Christian paces angrily from side to side.
Aubrey: The only thing to do is finish what we started.
Christian: We?
Aubrey: Yes. You’re going to whip me. You’re going to whip my naked body. Isn’t that what you do here?
Christian: (After a pause, in mock horror) Alright, I suppose there’s no harm done. Let’s get it over with.
Aubrey: You’ll find the whips I want over there (
she nods toward the grotto stone, where a number of whips have been neatly stacked).
Christian: Oh, you’ve thought of everything.
Aubrey: No, Mr. TV Producer, you have...Start with that long one. I want to feel the whip over my whole naked body.
Christian picks up the long whip. He unfurls it, snaps it in the air and on the ground. He faces her.
Christian: (
Suddenly business-like) Have you ever been whipped before, Ms. Aubrey?
Aubrey: (
Her pose has become languid, her voice sultry) Of course.
Christian: I’m going to whip you now. Are you ready?
Aubrey: (
Dreamy) Yes.
Christian: (
Adopting an officious tone; toying with the whip) Ms. Aubrey, do you wish to be whipped upon your naked flesh? (
Aubrey nods, but betraying a touch of apprehension) I may, at my discretion, whip you on any part of your naked body. Do you agree to be whipped at my discretion? (
She nods, a little nervous now). Very well.
Thomas Christian tests the whip again on the ground. Then he unleashes it at the pale, nude figure of Ms. Aubrey. It makes a whooshing sound and wraps itself around her hips and belly. Rather than the familiar sharp snap, the whip makes a slapping sound as it hits Aubrey’s skin. She jerks her body. Her breasts wobble. She gives a start but then smiles. Christian deals a second, a third and a fourth blow. Aubrey’s pose becomes more languid. She seems to hang with her full weight from her wrists. The chains and manacles jangle. She shakes her head and then smiles with an aura of proudly endured pain mixed with unexpected pleasure. Christian pauses then seems to decide it’s safe to deal more blows. Now, the whip wraps itself around Aubrey’s jiggling breasts. It makes a thumping sound as it flattens against her ribcage, where it leaves a faint pink trace. Aubrey offers her breasts to the whip. She sucks in her belly. Her pubic patch comes into view. It glistens with a silvery thread in the moonlight.
Aubrey: (Proud, alternately jumpy and dreamy against a new round of lashes, speaking more to herself than to Christian) It is just as I had hoped…better than I hoped…a caress, rough, but a caress…
Christian delivers more blows, then pauses.
Aubrey: (Addressing Christian directly) Mr. Christian, I believe any self-respecting lictor must remove his shirt. After all, this is a formal occasion; you should be properly dressed.
Christian nods. He dutifully obeys, tossing his shirt aside. Now he wears only tan slacks and moccasin-style loafers.
Aubrey: Thank you. That is much more authentic. (
Christian nods) Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like you to try a different whip.
Christian: Was the long bull not to your liking?
Aubrey: The long bull was very much to my liking. I shall seek out long bulls from now on wherever I go. However, I now have something else in mind.
Christian: (Bowing with mock courtesy) Madame, I am at your service.
Aubrey: (
Aside) More than you can know…(
addressing Christian) please pick up the short leather whip, the one with various strands.
Christian picks up the whip. He positions himself behind Ms. Aubrey.
Aubrey: Oh, no, Mr. Christian; not my back, my front.
Christian: (S
urprised, even incredulous) Your front?
Aubrey: Yes, come here, Mr. Christian, where I can see you…my front…I want you to whip my breasts, right across the nipples, the ones you men like to pinch and suck so much.
Christian: Ms. Audrey, you’ve gone too far. I am not such a man.
Aubrey: Yes, you are; you are
all such men; you just don’t know it. Mr. Christian, whip my breasts…(
against his apparent hesitation, her voice rises to its natural volume). Whip my breasts! WHIP THEM!
Christian resumes his business-like pose. He tests the whip in the air, then unleashes a glancing blow across Aubrey’s chest. The whip makes a faint rustling sound. Her breasts jiggle and bob.
Aubrey: You can do better than that, Mr. Christian.
He raises his arm. The whip lashes Aubrey’s breasts. They begin to wobble and rotate.
Aubrey: (Breathing heavily) Faster…faster and harder, Mr. Christian…
Christian picks up the pace. Soon he is lashing her chest with swift left-right motions.
Aubrey: (Breathless, smiling, almost laughing; her body begins to sway against the rain of blows) The nipples, Mr. Christian! Right across the nipples!
Christian makes a slight alteration in his stance. The whip slashes, then drags across the tips of Aubrey’s breasts. Her chest flushes. Her nipples seem to dance against the left-right staccato of the whiplashes. Aubrey is breathless, her ribcage extended, her belly concave. At length, Christian pauses. The exertion has left him sweaty and breathless.
Aubrey: Oh, Mr. Christian, that was splendid! You really are quite good at this. (
Christian nods his acknowledgement) There’s a little pocket in my dress. You’ll find the key to the manacles there.
Christian fishes for the key, finds it and fiddles with the manacles, freeing Aubrey’s wrists from their bonds. She falls into his arms in a swoon.
Aubrey: (Melodramatic) You may kiss me now.
Christian: (
Helping her to her feet) Ms. Aubrey, really…are we finished now? (
Aside) I hope.
Aubrey: (She sweeps her dress off the ground, then rushes down the path to the grassy knoll where the three crosses still lie) No, Mr. Christian, we are not! (
Still running, she turns toward him) Come! COME!
Christian: That’s what I was afraid of.
Fade.
Thomas Christian, shirtless, finds Ms. Aubrey already displayed on her cross. She has arranged herself in the classic manner, with her arms extended along the wooden crossbeam, her knees slightly bent, and her ankles crossed. Her long legs dimple in both the thigh and the calf. Her pubic hair has been trimmed into an alluring, half-hidden V between her prominent hip bones. Her abdomen appears curved and stretched, her navel narrowed into a dark keyhole. She lies slightly askew on the cross. Her chest shudders as she breaths. She smiles as Christian approaches.
Aubrey: (In a horse whisper) Come here, Mr. Christian. Come close. Kneel down. (
Christian kneels, with one leg on each side of the cross.)
Close up as Christian leans over Aubrey. The light is pale but sharp. It picks out every tiny twitch of the small bones and muscles in Aubrey’s thin, outstretched arms, and the subtle roll of her shoulders.
Aubrey: (Whispering) Bind my wrists. No need for hemp, just the cuffs.
Clicking sound as Christian locks the leather cuffs around Aubrey’s wrists.
Christian: I will bind your feet now.
Aubrey: (
Insistent) No! Not yet!
Christian: (Exasperated) Why not?
Aubrey: I require one final service from you, Mr. Christian, before I free you of all debts.
Christian: I was afraid of that.
Aubrey: I am approaching fulfillment of my fantasy, but there is one last thing.
Christian: And what might that be?
Aubrey: I have always wished to be stripped naked, whipped, and crucified; crucified in the classic way. But with one small difference, suitable for a woman.
Christian: Suitable for a woman?
Aubrey: Yes, Mr. Christian. I wish to hang from the wooden cross naked…and dripping with cum!
Camera angle widens as Christian leans back on his haunches.
Christian: (Angry) You wish to engage in coitus? Is that it?
Aubrey: (In her natural voice, impatient) Mr. Christian! No! Turtles ‘engage in coitus.’ I’m a woman! I’m naked! I’m highly aroused! I don’t want to ‘engage in coitus,’ Mr. Christian; I want to have sex. SEX!
Christian: Ms. Aubrey…really…I don’t think…I can…
Aubrey: Mr. Christian, if you leave me this way I’ll scream. You can do as I ask or you can go back inside the house and get one of those young men to come out here and do it for you!
Christian ponders. He rocks back on forth on his haunches. He bows his head. He seems to be praying.
Aubrey: (More conciliatory) Mr. Christian, I will make things easy for you. Trust me. There is no practical danger of any kind. As for the moral hazard, I’m asking you to
help me. You will be performing a charitable act.
Christian remains silent but seems to acquiesce.
Aubrey: (Patronizing, but kind-hearted) That’s a good boy. Now listen to me. Take off your shoes and drop your pants.
Christian stands. Mechanically, he kicks off his moccasins and drops his pants and briefs, then kicks them aside. Ms. Aubrey bends one leg at the knee, leaving the other flat against the wooden surface of the cross. She rolls her hips, bringing her glistening vagina into view. Christian needs no prompting. He lies across her outstretched body. Close up as he inserts his penis into Aubrey’s vagina. His penis is long and thin, his movements deliberate. He seems to massage her labia and clitoris as he penetrates, withdraws, and penetrates again. Cut to Aubrey. She strains against her wrist bonds. Her chest fills and her breasts sway. Soon, she begins to whimper and cry.
Aubrey: (Breathless) Mr. Christian, stop for a moment; lie next to me.
Christian withdraws. He lies next to her, stroking her belly and hips.
Aubrey: (In an urgent whisper) Now place your hand where your penis was.
Close up as Christian’s hand reaches Aubrey’s moist vagina. He begins to massage her clitoris methodically. Close up of Aubrey. The pace of her breathing increases. She arches her back. The wrist bonds jangle. She whimpers, utters a single long ‘ahhhhh’, then falls back with a sigh of relief. Christian withdraws his hand from Aubrey’s dripping vagina. He strokes her hips and belly. Aubrey looks at him with a longing, almost loving gaze.
Aubrey: You know what to do now…
Christian crouches over Aubrey’s outstretched body. He again penetrates her vagina, but quickly withdraws. He positions himself over Aubrey’s hips, with his engorged penis flat against her lower belly. It ticks and sways. Christian uses one hand to steady his penis; with his other hand he gently strokes it. White jets spurt from Christian’s penis. They streak across Aubrey’s breasts. She shimmies and squirms, uttering the single word “hot.” The jets subside into a steady stream. The stream flows like white lava into the waiting basin of Aubrey’s concave belly, pooling around her navel. Aubrey rolls her head from side to side. Christian stands up. He is purposeful, a man who knows what he has to do. He quickly binds Aubrey’s feet with the leather and metal cuffs. The cross is a spring-operated device anchored into the ground. Christian releases the spring and the cross bounces slightly. Christian grasps the cross at the head of the upright and slowly raises it. The device clicks through a series of ratchets. When it is perpendicular, he locks it in place. He can hear Aubrey whimpering as her body slides down the smooth, cool wood of the upright cross. Her wrist bonds jangle and clink. She probes with her feet until her left heal finds purchase on the tiny footrest. Christian walks to the front of the cross. The camera picks out only his nude silhouette as the moonlight bathes the pale, stretched figure of the woman known to everyone as Ms. Aubrey. Her body is slightly askew on the cross, with one hip higher than the other. Her skinny arms strain as she hangs. Her chest fills with air; her proud breasts, with their pink, punished nipples, sway with each breath. She tosses her head and smiles, a triumphant, laughing smile. The effort makes her ribs stick out to an almost harrowing degree.
Aubrey: (In a horse whisper, as if trying to shout but not mustering the breath) Stripped! Naked! Whipped! Crucified, dripping with cum! Thank you, Mr. Christian! (
Christian nods) Am I beautiful?
Christian: You are the most beautiful woman I ever saw. At this moment, you are the most beautiful woman in the world.
Aubrey: Are you sorry?
Christian: I should be.
Aubrey: (Breathless) We’ll go to confession together. And now, Mr. Christian…get me down from here!
Christian bows his head, makes the sign of the cross, and dutifully approaches the spring device to perform this one last service.
-0-