Wednesday, February 20, 2013

The enigmatic abductor. Chapter 7.

       The next day was passed as usual, that is to say, with the same morning rites, with learning, with tea and the long conversations near the campfire. At night both were sleeping without interrupting. However on Friday Inga was flogged severely as never before. As two days before that, the girl being possessed by passion for her severe mentor, she provoked intentionally such a hard ordeal for her.
       It happened this way. During the morning ritual whipping with wire, after five strokes she, unlinking her hands intentionally, rushed with the hugging and the declaration of love to her executioner. He embraced with her a little but didn't agree on her pretensions. Already thirty strokes of threatened her instead the fifteen, but it seemed this is not enough for her. When he demanded stop to play and to take the necessary position, in the first time she didn't obey him, but ran away through the forest, laughing. He had to run fairly before he succeeded in catching her. Being caught, suddenly she dealt him a slap in the face, roaring with laughter, started to run away again. Then he twisted her arm, put her hand behind head so high that she gave a squeak from pain. This has sobered her to some extent.
      -What a beastly wench, I'm going to make you to chew the ground now! - her mentor said strictly, but with a smile. From the pain in the hand, she was made all red without laughing more. So he led her, making to bend down her to the extent that her head was lower than the bare bottoms decorated with the recent welts. Leading her to a fallen tree near the tent, he pulled her hair and ears painful, but not with full force, fearing damage.
       -It was the flowers and berries are going to be now!
        Inga was standing in front of him, being all reddened, the tears rolled down along the both cheeks.
       -All the same, I love you. I'm ready to pass the ordeals you've prepared for me. Flog me without sparing.
      -You are saying this now. And what will you sing, when I will flog you?
      -Don't turn your attention to what is said under torture. You've better to listen what I'm saying now and will say after. When in the first time I caught it from you very hot, I appealed to your pity, to your compassion, I was ready to do anything for you, provided to avoid the pain. But now don't spare me. I want your fierce love. I'm going to scream, ask for mercy, but you don't spare, be my executioner, take pleasure in my screams and moans, in my tears. I'll yell, but flog me nevertheless, let it hurt, till it bleeds. I will love you more.
       The girl fell to her knees and started to kiss his hairy legs.
      -Stand up, Inga, - the first time he addressed her by name. She noticed, he is moved and his eyes became moist a little. - But indeed you are my dream. Your love is wonderful! And you became wonderful. You aren't a dead any more! You have awoken! You have awoken out of lifeless sleep, the same sleep, which all your familiars in Moscow are sleeping. My lovely friend, beautiful girlfriend of the forest, even as pretty as all the nature, pretty as the same life, as the love! Are you ready for the ordeal? I'm going to satisfy your request, o my dear sister in spirit. Bring the ropes, I'm going to tie you to the tree. - he pointed to a tree lying on the ground. - I'll take you through the hellish profundities to the paradisaic heights! - her executioner becoming desirable now, so enthusiastically he just completed his tirade.
       Inga has brought the ropes and reached out them to him.
      -Lie down you, my reckless girl.
       Inga lay down, as if she just rushed in a precipice. The fear was confused with delight in her soul. Smiling, looking naughty, she has said as well as sung:
      -Oh, what is waiting for me I'll get now!
      -Wait for a little. Such a kaif is going for you now!
       Long and diligently he tied her. The wire started whistling sharply and without mercy. The girl moaned a little and complained already.
      -Here is fifteen. It should be the end, but just we are beginning now.
       During the fiftieth stroke of the whip, already she screamed out lamentations as well as at that time, in childhood, under the mother's jump rope. The screams swelled all the way. Then she felt her bottom, just this spot was flogged, it seemed, became stiff, and now the pain is not so strong. Already on the grass sparkled a few little drops of blood. Screaming out "ouch" and weeping lamentably, Inga felt a pleasant warm wave spreading inside herself. It was the most suitable a short word for this feeling, that is "kaif". She came. Then again it hurt unbearably. The screams swelled again and the kaif took place once more. She came at the second time. Then it was a few whizzes and slaps tormenting her body.
      -Now you are flogged as a nanny goat really. Are you content?
      -Yeah, - Inga tried to smile but she all was trembling. - How many strokes have you thrashed me?
      -One hundred and fifty, but still it isn't the end.
      -But I'll not be able to move!
      -Was it said I was going to spank you else?
      -Then what are you going to do? Is it to cauterize me?
      -No, naughty wench, to salt you. - He smiled.
       Suddenly she has got a sense of his words. She was frightened and for good reason. Her executioner drew a handful of the salt, wet it with water from the flask, then he started to spread it on the flogged points, without efforts but studiously.
      -Ouch, ouch, ouch, ouch. what are you doing?! S-s-s, - she exerted herself to stand, reddening, finally broke down and began to sob. He began to liberate her from the ropes.
      -May I go to the river? - Asked the girl through tears.
      -You may.
       Inga came to the bank, came down to the water long, went into the water. It was hurt to touch the buttocks. Then she stood in the water near for five minutes. Already the flow should wash off the salt. She began to hobble back, forgetting along the way, sat down on a stump and at once jumped up with a yelp. Her executioner applied an ointment to the welts gingerly, getting it from the first-aid kit. This time Inga was whipped according to all the classic rules: it hurts to touch,  to blood and including the processing with salt. It was scary to look at her bum. It swelled up, solid purple-bluish spots bled in some areas.
      -Put on your training trousers, not the swimsuit, it may pierce.
        Inga asked, smiling:
      -Today am I flogged like that nanny goat, am not I?
      -Really, my dear naughty goat.
      -Is this the last test?
      -There's still one. But you have to rest a few days, let it heal. When it will heal, you will be more beautiful. The already your bum is attractive, prominent. If in childhood you were flogged more often, you generally would be a beauty queen. But don't worry,  all the same I love you.
      -To thrash me in the next time, will you onto the same point again?
      -No. Lots and evenly thorough the body, except the face and breasts.
      -You've right, one must test all. And what if I misbehave before it will heal?
       In answer he spanked her sonorously with palm one time on the point is sore now.
      -Ou-uch! - loudly and slowly the girl uttered a scream, throwing her head back. - M-m-m, oh how it hurts! S-s-s.
      -Well, do you want to misbehave?
      -No, no.
       He spanked her with palm at the second time also sonorously. The girl yelled, bent over, crouched down, blushing.
      -And now would you like, I'll whip you with wire?
      -Do not! I'm afraid!
      -Will you be as meek, wench?
      -Yes, I will be as meek.
      -Tomorrow you got me on the bum really don't spank, please.
      -If you behave well, I'll spank you on other points.
       Inga realized that she must do without any mischief, at least a few days.
      -Now you may take a rest. For today we cut the study.
        This day, he still had several times during the conversation, joking, slapped her, what provoked every time her protester and suffering screams. She at all couldn't sit. However this and next day every reminder, how strong she is flogged, brought her a feeling of a bliss. She agreed internally that she is able to be happy really only together with this mysterious stranger who combined in himself, it seemed, incompatible characters: a rude guy, dressed almost in a bast, a refined inquisitor, a philosopher and a poet.
       The next week Inga had asked for the "torments for the love" once more, after this all her body was thrashed evenly, even the arms. It was no the orgasm, because only different fresh untouched places got it, so nothing lignified, nothing lost the perceptibility. The pain was stabbing, it was enough of screams, tears and lamentations. As he promised, only the face and breasts remained untouched. It was one hundred and fifty strokes too, however nothing hurt after this.
       As soon as she was untied, her passion, being inflamed by the cruel game "jump-screech" as he said, reached its apogee. Her partner in this game was excited not fewer. Inga was sure that he will keep his word; she wasn't mistaken.
       Being untied, just she struck a pose of a thirsting female, in which she desired to give herself to him. This time she had not to entreat him. He has entered into her smoothly and deeply. Inga bawled from pleasure in time with his pushes. It seemed to her that all the earth and the forest stagger with them together. Everything has changed around. Any detail in the milieu surrounding them, signifying nothing, now it got a great meaning, the meaning of the triumph of the Life and the Love. Any trifle: either let it is a drooping leaf of maple, catching the eye by chance, or some forest sound or even a smell, in the distant future, being drawn from stock of memory, suddenly this "trifle" will begin to shine a bright light, illuminating and decorating the gray humdrum daily routine, and then each of both will be able without any proof, but being sure, without any doubt to answer the question to any skeptic or pessimist who asking about the meaning of life, that the meaning of life is the Love.
       And for this moment every such a trifle was like a note which was blending harmoniously into the great symphony of the festival of the life and the love. Both, being deafened by the  final chords of this symphony, a few minutes they weren't able to recover themselves, standing still in the position which they came.
       After all Inga jumped up, turned face to him. They kissed, crushing lips each other and for a long time could not separate out. In a transport of joy they pinched each other to bruises on their back without feeling this.
      -Let's we rest a little, then continue this, - it was the girl who took the lead, offering.
       He has agreed, and both went into the tent. Being easily dressed, they lay about an hour.
      -Well, pretty girl, what else to do with you together? - He was the first to break the silence.
      -And you are well done! Quickly you have regained the strength as in eighteen. Do you know? I'm so depraved. I'm such a bitch! I have such a shameful desire!
      -Didn't I tell you before, that the sexual desires are sacred things, if they aren't dangerous? I would have whipped you now for you forget the lessons, but just I'm too lazy to do it.
      -I want you would violate my second virginity, - the wench said in a whisper like a conspirator, passionately sparkling with her mischievous eyes. He has well understood, but asked just in case:
      -How to understand it?
      -What are you slow on the uptake! Where do you poke your finger me every morning? So you awakened in me this desire. I know, it hurts, however I don't need get accustomed to this, - she passed to a whisper, and her eyes still glowed passionately. - I want to be planted on the stake. You lie down on back and I will hop on it, being in the horsewoman's pose.
      -Well, today your day has come, my beauty. After going through the suffering you have right to choose. Frankly speaking, I want the same. He took an ointment from the first-aid kit and went out the tent. - Let's do it here, on the grass.
      -Let us, - the girl said in a passionate whisper.
       He applied an ointment to the required object, which was increased to its limit again, and lay down on his back. Inga, trembling, overstepped the lying partner so, that now her feet were on either side of him, and she turned her face to him, took the implement of his passion in her hand and started to stick herself onto it.
      -Ouch! - Biting her lip either from pain or from passion, she started to move hither and thither, initially slowly and carefully, but hastening little by little, and moaned in time, doing this. Before he finished, she had time several times to come, and the last time they finished together, her repeated moans changed into the shouting and exclamations: "So me! do me like this! I'm a bad wench, tear me!.." Hearing from afar but without seeing what is going on, one could think that she is flogged again. On the peak of the voluptuousness she bellowed and growled like a wild beast. Soon both went to the river to wash themselves.
      -Are you seeing now that a three weeks ago you lived in an absolutely different world, that is, in a dead one. And during a few days you have done a grand jump from the grey dead world into the alive and colourful one?
      -And you are asking?
      -So. Do not forget today and never come back there.It is a hell there, a darkness. It is a death there, a cancer, alcoholism.
      -Do you want me to stay together with you in the forest forever?
      -Unfortunately it is not possible and it is not about that. Simply: being physically in their world, stay in your own one. Pretending to be as they are, stay yourself. Don't forget who are you, even for a minute. In respect of them you are like an enemy agent who mustn't discover himself and especially, in no case he mustn't go over to their side. Otherwise you would betray yourself, then it would the worst for you, not for me. Although regarding me you are a slave, a forest wench which I spank and will spank every day, but in respect of them you are a princess and they are plebeians, nonentities who had disregarded the Gifts which were given them from heaven. Never forget either those knowledge or this happiness what you have found here.
      And the sun passed beyond the ravine and was setting, shadowing the long shadows. They talked, kissed and sang songs near the campfire. The night approached, and soon she gave herself to him again.

Next chapter: http://la-flagellation.blogspot.ru/2013/03/the-enigmatic-abductor-chapter-8.html
                                           

Friday, February 1, 2013

The enigmatic abductor. Chapter 6.

       Finally Inga is untied completely. In that particular spot she feels hot. She passes her palm along over the whipped points. There it has become very uneven. She had looked at her palm. There it has left traces of blood a little.
      -Don't you know? You've spanked me till to blood.
      -Nothing awful in this. The body is able to stand a lot. It is rather a nervous load than a physical one. Your heart is healthy, so no danger. If the desire to obey and to submit has not appeared, one may repeat this.
      -No. It is real! Do not.
      -By the way you make progress, my beauty. I remember as you screamed at that time! And after this what you became hysterical! And how nicely you've stood it now! It's a pity I haven't a camera. You've begun to scream only at the end.
      -May I go to the tent, to take a rest?
      -Rest for two hours, then we will prepare the dinner and start our lessons. We have little time, but I would like to teach you many things.
       Lying in the tent, Inga stroked, probed the traces of her today's "adventure." The touches answered by a little pain, but this pain gladdened her.
      "One has punished me. I was a naughty girl, and now I'm so flogged, that it hurts to sit". Inga was happy from these thoughts. And she felt herself happy once more, because a new world opens up before her, the world unknown in former times, but in fact it coexisted with her together all the way.
      -Master. Is it means I'm abnormal, a masochist?
      -What's the matter? Have you forgotten the lesson? You become the best only if you are as you are in fact.
      -I remember it. Just it's difficult to believe.
      -You'll get accustomed.
      "Let so, let so, - Inga thought to herself. - Skin me alive, one day I'll rape you anyway". - With these thoughts she fell asleep for a short while.
       A short sleep restored her forces quickly. Inga felt happy. She has remembered she woke up yesterday morning, how a disappointment with and how vexation with then she felt sorry about awaking. But now she looked at the world very differently, as it was found in fact, this world is larger and more beautiful. Limiting her moving in the space, the mysterious stranger, even his name wasn't known her till present, but he opens before her an immeasurable more liberty, it seems, an enormous happy country, and now she is going to learn it, enjoying, to stroll about its beautiful paradisaical alleys, without a sorry to pay sometimes the pain, the screaming and the tears for this. The game is worth the candle.
       When they built a fire and cooked the dinner, her enigmatic and now desired already abductor spoke to Inga:
      -I have to warn you in advance. When you will return to the city, if you make progress enough on the way to perfection, you will not recognize it. Returning into the world where you were always before, you will understand that it is a prison and you will come to hate it and its inhabitant. Then you will have an inclination for certain eccentric tricks and you will, if one may say so, violate the safety regulations of the war on the society. Then the society will crush you and make you come back into their herd. In my early youth so I lost a few friends. Being inspired by my rebellious spirit, they did different foolish things and ran into troubles: certain of them were sent in mental clinic by their parents, certain others were jailed. Recovering from these not quite little troubles, they said me that now they have "matured", "grown wiser" and would not "play childhood". They started to hate me, thinking that I was a reason of these misfortunes befalling them. They never return to the Way, at least, in this life. Now they are pining, either from the alcohol or from ailments, it is because it came home to some part of their subconsciousness, just WHAT they had lost. I don't want you would have a misfortune like this.
       For this reason, I would like make you ready. All the lessons we conduct, this is not my whim. You'll have to return to the society which you no longer belong to. You will be there, like an intelligence agent in the enemy's rear. You'll have to be an actor, that is to play a part, which is alien to you. It's not difficult, but it's more difficult to remember that it's only a role. Your mask must not become your face. So, firstly you've better to avoid finding yourself in the society for a long time, even among your friends. Either they will catch sight of something, or you'll begin to slide to the former level. There is no turning back. You've got the knowledge, it's with you, it is impossible to return your former ignorance, but there it is possible a stop on the way and such a stop renders a human unhappy, what leads to illnesses and to the fatal chances.
       You have to learn to read people's thoughts who is around you. This is not so difficult as it seems at the first sight. Some people with a large life experience can profit by this. In addition, the mystical ability to read thoughts, it may be developed by the meditation
       You've better to become crymophylactic. You live in the cold country and in the event you go underground; it is preferable to hide yourself in the open country, even in winter. Every person has great capacity for cold resistance, but it's rarely if somebody develops them.
      -What for I would hide myself? I don't commit the robberies and the killings.
      -Maybe you think all those who was shot or rot in jails under Stalin, were robbers and murderers? There were a lot of the average men who blamed those persons who are persecuted by the power but a few months later found themselves in their place. If a thought occurred to somebody, without waiting their fatal day, go to the open country to save themselves, let their fate would be enough a difficult one, however still much better, than this one prisoners' of the gulag. Their lives were ruined because of their own idiocy peculiar to the main bulk of people. If today you get on with this state, but the political situation may be changed during a few weeks, though now it is still changing to the better side. While a totalitarian system is functioning at its full force, only your gait or only your facial expression, if these things weren't liked a drunken neighbor or by his drinking companion from KGB, only this may be the cause of your ruin.
      -Oh, that's it. You've abducted me to save from possible repressions of the totalitarianism? But what about, if you will find me an untalented pupil? If I will come down from the "way"consciously and start to live as all the sane people live?
      -It will be worse only for you. But for my part; I will have fond memories about you always. I would like to combine business with pleasure. Well, the business will fall away, but the pleasure will remain all the same. The Moor has done his work, and then God will decide.
      -Can it really you are a believer?
      -I don't believe. I know God exists. An accidental chemical reaction couldn't engender the life, build the genetic code. The life is created by the Higher Life which has not a cause.
     -Do you visit a church, confess about your sexual kinks?
     -Firstly: the rule to confess exists not in every church. Secondly: the church is visited by crowds, the same crowds who had crucified Christ. All the Gospel text is set against the society, however the society had turned over all the things on their head. First centuries the Christianity was persecuted. Then suddenly it began to suit to all the world. This is no accident. It took centuries to turn the true faith into its antipode. The inquisition is a primordial totalitarianism and there is only one opposite of the totalitarianism: this is the true Christianity.
      -Doesn't the Christianity forbids the sex, especially an unusual one?
      -We are still children, so we play childish games. Though I've more knowledge than you have, however I still haven't become a buddha, that is an enlightened one. When we reach it, these games will no longer interest us. A child can be interested playing tick-tack-toe, but not an adult. Here is the thing. Inside the sex, there is an enormous energy concentrated. In what a case it is more likely a dog would break loose? A stranger who has invaded into its area, he is yet in second place, but in the first place it is another dog. A man, renouncing his inclinations for some benefits in the future, and even all the more, because of the society would not blame him then, of course if his sexual orientation is not destructive one for himself or for others, he is not better, than a miserable and paltry coward who ran away when someone has assaulted his girlfriend. In the last case he has a moral right to kill the aggressors, provided that no other way to make them to refuse the aggression. The society, making a man miserable and paltry, it sets up barriers around the most energetic side of his life, that is the sexual one in the given case, then it can manipulate this man, using him in criminal wars or to suit its other own vicious ends.
      -Aren't you afraid to make mistakes and get into the hell?
      -The paradise and the hell are the states of your soul, not geographic areas. Even if I'm fated to make mistakes, it would better pay for my own sins, not for anyone's. If there are two inevitable evils on the way, one must try to choose one of them. I would rather commit a murder when we go around a city, and suddenly we will be attacked by a herd of idiots, instead to commit it in a doubtful war, which would be triggered off by some high-ranking criminals.
       However I'm repeating: you have to learn a lot of things. To pretend, but staying yourself, to read somebody's thought without uncovering yours own; to be able to hide yourself in the cold, be able to slip so, anyone would not notice and not hear, to know how to neutralize enemies who are strong in every sense, especially to find their weak points. Sometimes enough harmless things can turn out an awful weapon.
       What does the average man, if someone tries to trample on his interests? If he makes an attempt to resist, he acts awkwardly, loses and gives up ignominiously. Here is the main mistake: he tries to put together a counteracting group, to say otherwise, to create a society, but the society, it is a stupid awkward many-headed hydra. It can conquer only with a boss of genius, submitting to him implicitly. But at such cases there are a lot of the squealers and no arrangement. A lonely saboteur who is skilled well, he is able to perform more than a herd of hundred persons.
      -Then why such all-powerful lonely persons aren't used in a war?
       -But where to find them? What will it cost to train them? And the main: what it would happen, if he, after have trained, will turn against those who trained him?
      -And what, if being trained, I will turn against you?
      -Firstly, you've experienced the taste of the real freedom, so, to turn against me, it is the same thing, as you would turn against yourself. Though in our country it is acceptable to play dirty tricks against all, including against self. Even there is a proverb: "Let my cow die, provided this neighbour's one will not calve". However all of this is silly. I'm repeating again: I'll console myself by these nice experiences and impressions that I've got from you. Only useful things will fall away. Then, as in a song it is sung: "I will never forget you, I will never see you once more". Secondly, about that to harm me, before, try to find me. Do you think that I have an intention to stay with you here for ten years?
      -But what if the police will find?
      -Their chances to find me are not much more than yours. If you become a good pupil, their chances will be lower than yours. I'm not disputing. They will find the place of my so-called registration, but there will no answer to the main question: WHERE IS MYSELF? That's so, my pretty! - And playfully, but firmly and loudly he slapped her with his hand on that spot where the whip walked recently. Inga grimaced in pain. - By the way, today I don't advise you to be naughty again, because in that case I will punish you on the bottoms again. It will more hurt, but not harmful and not dangerous, just you will not able to sit during two days. Inga, imagining with horror such a perspective, decided seriously not to tease the strict mentor again.
       This day they studied much, he trained her to move without noise through the woods, indicating her mistakes.
      -You are starting only, - her abductor said, - and for a while, during a few days I will only indicate where you make mistakes, however later on I will punish. Remember that in the real life such a mistake may be like the death.
       Yet he whipped her on the thighs a few times, when she didn't divine his intentions, that was a training to read thoughts. The same day he started to let her into the most applicable in the life part of the mathematics, that is the probability theory. Before the sunset she said frankly to him:
      -I can't help it nothing, I want you. But you've forbidden it me, you say that some continence for a while would be better for us both.
      -It's so in fact. If you don't believe, you may don't believe in it, but you must obey me, and you have better don't oppose me, you will not stand it, all the same.
      -But I will not be able to sleep.
      -Rub yourself with the cream against mosquitoes, as for a night, and sit on the heels, that is into position Vajrasana. Try to be without thinking during three minutes.
       At first Inga knelt, then she moved apart her heels and sat down on them. A few times the abductor whistled with the whip in the air as a warning, talking:
      -I've said, don't think!
       Three minutes passed.
      -Change the position into Virasana.
        Inga moved apart her feet, without moving apart the knees, she sat down on the ground. Already she could do it. Else three minutes passed.
      -And now lie down on your back, the other day you nearly have succeeded to do it. Excellent! At last! And now forget about everything, concentrate on the solar plexus, that is the chakra Manipura.
       Initially it was unpleasant sensations in the legs, but in two minutes they were over. Apart from will, she had to remember that today she is flogged in a big way. He divined three times again, that she forget about concentration, and whistled with the wire in the air menacingly
      -Now stand up and try to sit in the Siddhasana.
       She succeeded. Today it was obviously a successful day, without taking into account the difficult ordeal, which was provoked by the same mischievous girl. Sitting, it hurt a little. In five minutes she had changed her feet in the pose at his command.
      -Now do the deed, put your clothes on, and lie down in the pose of dead to sleep.
       Inga just has done so: lay down, relaxed, imagining as she enters, naked, into a pure lake, which is surrounded by picturesque environs, and all the parts of her body, these are found under the water, weakened and vanish dissolving. Very soon she fell asleep. She dreamed a terrifying height which one could fall from. Standing on this height, she had to throw down enough big stones, but before this obligatory she had to swing them in her hands. It amused her very much. The merriment mixed up with horror because of the possibility to fall from such a narrow brink. Because of these turbulent emotions the further sleeping was impossible, so Inga has awoken.
       Near was nobody. Inga divined that her mentor is sitting near the campfire outside. He was very sensitive to her awakening, yet according their "Code of prisoner", she must, to avoid a severe punishment, report on her awakening. She reported and asked a permission to come out of the tent. He allowed.
       Inimitable colours, inimitable feelings of the expiring night in June, all this was opened in front of her her. The pleasing coolness and the silence of the forest, which still was not woken up, intensified the impression. One would like something more.
      -I never heard as you are singing.
      -I would not succeed in it.
      -To learn to swim, - he was saying slowly and almost in a whisper, - one must enter into the water. To learn to swim, using only a theory, it's impossible. As to sing, it's the same. I'm going to help you. I begin, and you join gradually.
       Oh, not in vain Inga compared him to Vysotsky! "Когда вода всемирного потопа... (In Russian: "When the Deluge's water..."), - has started the mentor, imitating enough skillfully the genius of songs who had gone forever. This singing has brought closer finally Inga to a certain limit of the bliss, which surpassing one may burst into tears of happiness. When the refrain was reached, she, hardly holding back a tear of happiness, started to sing, putting her whole soul, it seems, into this song:
      -Я поля-а влюбленным постелю-у, пусть поют во сне и наяву-у... (In Russian: I'll spread fields for all who is in love, let they sing in their sleep and while awake...)
       She has sung the refrain to the end and didn't recognize her own voice. The pretty, high and at the same time strong girlish voice, which even drowned a little the voice of the partner in the duo which is created spontaneously, this voice has expressed all the feelings: those what were contained in the sense of words and those which can't be expressed by words, those which the genial author felt and those which from the fairy nocturnal landscape have burst into her open soul through a forbidden and formerly locked, but now wide-open door to spite the society, and the feelings have burst into it not as troublemakers, but as her desired friends, her splendid soul so yearned for them, this soul so long languished being locked up. Inga, putting whole her essence into the song, she just couldn't sing out of tune even one note, and with his prompting, because she didn't know all the text, she has sung this excellent song to end.
      -Are you happy? - He knew that the question is superfluous, all was seen without it. The tears of joy rolled down cheeks of the girl.
      -Yes, - Inga answered in a passionate whisper. -However notice. You and I just sang, without doing something else.
      -And now compare: a happiness from self renunciation, a happiness from the pain, a happiness from the voluptuousness, a happiness from an excellent song or from a verse. All this is like pictures: one picture is in one colour, another picture - in another one. And it is foolish to argue what colour is better, though the stupid crowd tries to distinguish the happiness between a clean one and an unclean one. This is not a new thought. This dividing between pure and impure was refuted using the Tantra already five thousand years ago. The New Testament refuted it too. If one wants to cry from the happiness, this is a state of the love. It is not so important, what by this state is provoked. In such minutes we are approaching to the Divinity, becoming happy in fact.
       To begin with to enter into the state of love, we need a certain door. A lot of things can be used as this door: it can be you, it can be a song, it can be this fairy night. We ascribe our happiness to different objects as if all depends for the external circumstance which deliver these objects to us, we prefer the human objects, let they would reciprocate our feelings. So this is our spiritual childhood. When we will become mature spiritually, we will start to feel, and I know this in theory now already, that we can be happy, be in the state of love, approximate to the Divinity as much as possible, and all this without any object, it is enough of self.
       You are happy when you are in the state of love, and it's not important, does reciprocate someone your feelings or doesn't. You are unhappy, when this state is gone, even if this moment you are standing on the stage and fanatic admirers are showering you with flowers. Alexander the Great and Napoleon conquered the world. People were afraid of them, welcomed them, applauded. But they felt themselves as failures. Note this: those who conquered the world, but they felt themselves as failures. However all this because they couldn't be loving. They could only make war.
      "So because if you didn't love, It means you didn't breathed and didn't live", - her mentor has sung the last line of the song expressively and proposed:
      -Let's sing else!
      -Let's! What are we going to sing?
       The mentor started singing an old song, which was executed by Mark Bernes long ago "When you will cease to love". Inga, endeavoring in the same way, sang along with him. After the song was over, he looked fixedly in her face, explaining:
      -These two songs we sang today, they contain answers, maybe not all, but very many questions. Of course, did you hear them before, didn't you?
      -Yes.
      -However did you noticed nothing, didn't you? I see. And Chatsky didn't notice one line in the Gospel and started to throw his pearls to pigs. That's right, my beauty, learn from mistakes. If I have not to punish you for the forgotten lessons of today, do you know, what it will mean? It will mean that the last day you have received the knowledge so much, as many people didn't succeed to receive during all their life. Now you know such things, the most of the people didn't learnt they lived till eighty years old.
      -Maybe, but now it is not up to it, because I want you, - saying this, she embraced her mentor, doing a deep-drawn kiss. He kissed her in return and embraced too.
      -I want you not fewer.
       Inga saw and felt through the clothes that he didn't lie.
     -Moreover, if such a thing takes place in a town, immediately I would profit by your accessibility, that our relations would not be interrupted, but I have a lot of time here.
      -Today you admired me that I took the torments for the love while you had flogged me so, it hurts to sit. I know, you need more of my pain, my torments.
      -I want your state of love would increase to the limit and you give me yourself only in such a state. The more of love is in your soul, the more of pain you can stand. Your readiness for the ordeals in the name of love, it will indicate the sincerity and the force of your feelings. Today, when you agreed without a murmur to receive seventy five strokes, I'd learned, the seeds of your love yielded a powerful and viable fruit. One must only let it ripens.
      -Why don't you show the strength of your love, going through pain too? Here let suffer together, like me.
      -Unfortunately, a thing you take like a torture, I take like a trifle. To receive the same impression as that flogging for your escaping, it should put me to painful death. The forces are unequal. Would you like to attempt? Recently it was a new moon. Before the eighth day of the moon it is useful to cauterize a point on the leg. I don't know, how one must do it according all the rules, sometimes I just cauterize this point with an usual cigarette.
       He took off his trousers and sat down on the trunk of a fallen tree on which they had dinner and talked together often. Then he took a pen, covered his knee with his palm, drew a horizontal line on the leg from the tip of the middle finger, then a vertical line along the prolongation of the little finger. After this he lighted a cigarette, using a thin stick from the campfire and, when the cigarette was starting to smoke, he brought it nearer gradually, then pressed it close to the point of intersection of the lines. Inga smelt scorched a little, but her strange interlocutor even did not move.
      -So what? Let's attempt. Let it will be a test of my love once more.
      -I can't be bothered to tie you now.
      -Let I lie down on the ground, on my back, my hands I put behind my back and couple them. I throw my legs over the log. You sit down on top, above the knees. One your hand keeps my shin, another one cauterizes me.
      -So what? That's a good idea! Put your palm on the knee, - he helped her to put her hand correctly; as well as on his own leg he has drawn on her leg a little cross, marking the necessary point.
      -Lie down, wench.
      -Oh, I'm so afraid! - Inga bewailed, lying down, - myself asked for it.
        She continued to repeat something in a whisper, while he sat down on her legs, lighting up the cigarette. Suddenly her loud squeal has interrupted this whisper. At a distance the shrubs began to crack. A big something moved away quickly, cracking, it seemed, breaking the wood.
       -A poor wild boar. How you startled him!
        Inga smiled in answer.
       -Yeah, I guess, he is the unhappiest among of the three of us, though no one cauterized him.
       -Well, and what are your impressions?
       -The pain from whip is an agonizing one, that is harassing. But from cigarette the pain is a stabbing one, explosive. But such a burn is better than a protracted flogging.
       -You may not do it often. Otherwise it will be a lot of scars on the body.
       -All the same, I love you, - saying this, the girl embraced him.
       -I love you too.
       -If I don't want to sleep, now I would start to pester you, after this being punishable with a hundred swats of lash.
        Only now he felt he wanted to sleep too. The dawn was approaching. In the tent he has bandaged her burn, after this he bandaged his own one. Soon they fell asleep.

Next chapter: http://la-flagellation.blogspot.ru/2013/02/the-enigmatic-abductor-chapter-7.html

The original Russian text: https://www.proza.ru/2009/12/20/1217