214.Chapter Eighteen（15）

“we–want–thewhip！we–want…”

andallofasuddentheyhadwhattheywanted。

“strumpet！”thesavagehadrushedatherlikeamadman。“fitchew！”likeamadman，hewasslashingatherwithhiswhipofsmallcords。

terrified，shehadturnedtoflee，hadtrippedandfallenintheheather。“henry，henry！”sheshouted。butherruddy-facedcompanionhadboltedoutofharm’swaybehindthehelicopter。

withawhoopofdelightedexcitementthelinebroke；therewasaconvergentstampedetowardsthatmagneticcentreofattraction。painwasafascinatinghorror。

“fry，lechery，fry！”frenzied，thesavageslashedagain。

hungrilytheygatheredround，pushingandscramblinglikeswineaboutthetrough。

“oh，theflesh！”thesavagegroundhisteeth。thistimeitwasonhisshouldersthatthewhipdescended。“killit，killit！”

drawnbythefascinationofthehorrorofpainand，fromwithin，impelledbythathabitofcooperation，thatdesireforunanimityandatonement，whichtheirconditioninghadsoineradicablyimplantedinthem，theybegantomimethefrenzyofhisgestures，strikingatoneanotherasthesavagestruckathisownrebelliousflesh，oratthatplumpincarnationofturpitudewrithingintheheatherathisfeet。

“killit，killit，killit…”thesavagewentonshouting。

thensuddenlysomebodystartedsinging“orgy-porgy”and，inamoment，theyhadallcaughtuptherefrainand，singing，hadbeguntodance。orgy-porgy，roundandroundandround，beatingoneanotherinsix-eighttime。orgy-porgy…