Nights and Maidens

"I have been a stranger in a strange land." (

Book of Exodus

, 2:22)

Early the following morning, before anyone else was up and about in the Temple, I left once more for the Maidenhall. For some reason I expected to find the place virtually deserted. Instead, the lobby, which wasn't very large, was crowded with both Knights and Maidens. The latter wore their little dresses, so I assumed that they had been ordered to, that this was the price of re-admission to their residence. There was no tension or evident animosity. The mood was almost creepily normal, considering the events of the past twenty-six hours. On seeing me the males nodded and the females bowed their heads -- there is a difference -- and went about whatever was their business.

I went to my office to clear up some paperwork. Helping to create the new Maidens' uniform had been a stimulating exercise, but now I had to handle the tedious and less glamourous administrative tasks pertaining to its introduction. After an hour or so I find myself something to eat. Two Maidens were already there in the kitchen, including Jessica. She was the oldest of the Maidens and one of three former

Maîtresses

, including Olivia, still members of the Order. Known as

Châtelaines

, which might be translated as "House Mistresses", they assisted the

Maîtresse

and formed an informal advisory committee that I had consulted a couple of times. In a few months Jessica would be awarded her doctorate (in the arcane discipline of matrix mechanics, another confirmation that the

Demoiselles

were a brainy bunch). She would then graduate to the Guild of Templars and achieve sexual equality. In the meantime, she was decorously deferential to the callow freshman who'd helped organize her captivity the previous day. I declined, with thanks, her offer to make me breakfast, and she and her friend immediately departed. I suspect they were worried I would ask them to join me at the table. I wasn't offended.

When I returned to the Temple, it was mid-morning. My role in the occupation of the Maidenhall and the abduction of its residents still weighed heavily on my mind and conscience. I was also feeling a little resentful that, although a member of the Council of Knights, I had been left out of the loop in the aftermath of our operation. I didn't actually mind being excluded from the decision-making; but having been complicit in the deed itself, and thus responsible for its consequences, I felt that I should have a more direct stake in the proceedings.

So when I arrived back at the Temple I was shocked, appalled, even a little disgusted.

For the first time ever, two Knights were stationed at the doorway to guard against unauthorized entry. They nodded a silent acknowledgement as I and other Knights approached and passed through. On the floor in the middle of the lobby were two steel cages, cubes about a metre high, long and wide. Crammed into each were six of the prisoners. They were squeezed together so tightly that there was barely enough room to breathe, let alone move. There were thick bars on all sides, although as a concession to minimum comfort the floor of each cage was padded with carpet. The women inside were stark naked, but facing inwards so all one had was a rear view, with backs and backsides pressed against the metal grid. Several were clutching the bars on top, lifting their arms, it seemed to me, to create a little more space between the bodies. They were sweating, their shoulders heaved from heavy puffing and panting. I could not see any faces. From one of the cages I heard whimpers and soft moans. In the other however, our indomitable captives were carrying on a lively conversation, in subdued tones so I couldn't make out the words; but I did recognize Alice's voice.

Two Maidens were in attendance with water buckets and sponges. Nearby was a small stack of drink bottles. There were, on the other hand, surprisingly few spectators. I suppose that the exhibition had been going for some time and even this novelty had worn off. But that just meant it had been a long ordeal for the twelve women. It was far from over.

***

The end of winter is celebrated at the university with the Spring Carnival. This festive occasion is a chance for students, and staff, to make merry before the new countdown to exams and assignment deadlines. As in May, there is a ten-day recess (including fore and aft weekends) during which classes are suspended and in their place are organized all sorts of fun activities. Each of the student residences holds its own events and some of these, not surprisingly with the Communal Housing Project at the leading edge, have made the Spring Carnival into a veritable bacchanalia.

The Order of the Temple, however, has a different perspective. It was in the month of September that two of the most portentous episodes in the Order's history occurred -- the suppression of the women's revolt in the 1980s and the defeat of the Maiden's breakaway attempt a decade later. These debacles confirmed and consolidated the males' domination of the Temple. And though, as I'd discovered in the course of my research, they are almost never talked about during the rest of the year, they are commemorated, if not exactly celebrated, each September.

The Knights' initial ceremony this time was, as traditional, comparatively sober; but on the first Saturday the Maidens held a rather raucous remembrance in the Annexe, to which males were strictly non-invited. We let them be when every so often two or three would enter the Temple via the service passageway to access the kitchen. They all wore the little white dress, as an emblem of their Maidenly pride, but they did not, when they saw a Knight, draw down their shoulder straps.

The Maidens' celebration started around midday and was still going strong as the sun sank below the horizon. There would be no prepared meal for us tonight, so like most of my fellow Knights I went elsewhere. In fact, I had arranged to meet Sarah in Lakeside Village early in the evening. Ben tagged along, and I would have tried hard to divest myself of his company, except that he was with his sister Emily. As I have mentioned, she was gorgeous, breathtakingly so.

Now I should say that the Spring Carnival was (and is) a combination of expo, funfair, lifestyle showcase and cultural festival, as well as quintessential party time. And if the weather is warm and dry (and even, sometimes, if it isn't) it's a time for the shedding of inhibitions and, especially for the women, the shedding of superfluous clothing. So I should not have been overawed at the sight, of Emily stunning in the twilight, wearing a tiny tangerine string bikini with a diaphanous mini-sarong slung low on her hips. Also as I've mentioned, she appeared oblivious to her own resplendence and did not seem to notice when the gaze of everyone within visual range settled upon her. But I have a feeling I may be wrong about this. Her sparkling, sapphire-blue eyes conveyed a different message. Her gentle-souled innocence was not a masquerade, but neither was she a babe in the woods... Well, she was a babe, but you know what I mean!

Emily's boyfriend was working, which is why she was escorted by her brother, who was assiduously masculine in a plaid flannel shirt, khaki chinos and dark suede chukka boots. That she felt the need to explain his attendance was illuminating. They stayed together all night, and I quickly discerned that this was not a matter of Ben being protective of his sister (who was, after all, three years his senior). He did not have a partner, as in a date, for the evening, and while this should not be an issue, I could tell that he felt embarrassed about it. I felt sorry for him, but least he could shine in the light reflected off his exquisite sister. Still, I'd caught another glimpse of the pernicious reality behind the Templars and their macho, socially arid culture. It was no wonder that earnest relationships between Knights and Maidens were so few and far between; and because Ben's social life was based almost entirely on the Temple, he had few opportunities for stable interactions with the opposite sex.

We met up with Perry and his latest lady-love, Penelope. She was also beautiful and lightly clad, in a silver sliver of a strapless bandeau and skimpy low-riding denim shorts. I found myself hoping that Sarah would be similarly

déshabillé

... not because I lusted after her body (although I did) but so my attention would not be drawn continually to the delectable displays of Emily and Penelope (not to mention the hundreds of other scantily clad women in the congested streets and alleyways of the Village). I wasn't disappointed.

It was a pleasant, almost perfect night, spent in a congenial environment with my girl and my friends. And I learned two things. The first was that Emily had been a Maiden of the Temple, one of the few who had made the decision to leave. I was therefore impressed that the Order recognized Ben's protégé status despite her departure. I did not enquire, but could adjudge from her transcendent nature that she and Maidenhood did not make a good fit.

The second revelation came towards the end of the evening.

Sarah and I finally peeled ourselves away from the rest of the group and managed to find a table at a sidewalk coffee shop. It was getting late and she was starting to shiver in her bikini. The weather had been balmy enough until a fresh breeze wafted across the campus. She hadn't brought a wrap to counteract the chill, so I gallantly offered the shirt off my back. She rejected my benevolence with a saucy smile, and winked at the waitress, who was delivering her

maraschino

and my

caffè crema

in an equally teeny two-piece.

I recalled what my sister had said one time when I teased her for going out in the middle of winter in a slinky little cocktail dress. "When you're looking hot you don't feel the cold."

But then Sarah turned serious. She told me she was moving out of her parents' home. I didn't ask for an explanation, but the fact that I never met them again told a story I didn't want to hear anyway. Yet to this day I feel deep remorse that I would later take advantage of Sarah's vulnerability, though with the best of intentions (I told myself); and our break-up a year hence played a key role in precipitating my final breach with the Templars.

It was around midnight when I decided to take Sarah to the Temple. There was no chance of having sex, she had made that clear. But I confess that I wanted to show her off to the other guys. We went upstairs to see my room, and at the end of the corridor all six armchairs were occupied. Ben was there, sitting with his sister and four other Knights. Emily was still in just her bikini, sublime and serene, for some reason wearing her gossamer sarong as a veil. She was holding court, as it were, while Ben was silently beaming with pride. He saw my girlfriend, nodded in the direction of our room and signalled his approval with a smirk. I shrugged my shoulders and he replied with a grin of condolence.

We didn't stay. I don't think Sarah was by any means outclassed by the fabulous Emily; in fact I suddenly didn't relish having my comrades drooling over her sweet contours (figuratively or literally). I accompanied her to her car, which was parked some distance away. (I felt some regret that I had not bothered to obtain my driver's licence.) She was now quivering from the cold but continued to rebuff my attempt at gallantry. She retrieved a shirt from the front seat of her car and put it on, leaving the buttons undone and the front open as we pulled each other in for a good-night kiss. I felt her nipples erect under the thin fabric of her bikini top, and I'm sure she felt the hardness in my trousers as our bodies pressed together; but we were not yet ready for the next step.

Once she'd driven off, I went back to the Temple and straight to my forlorn bed.

The next morning I was summoned to a special session of the Council.

Maîtresse

Annabel was immediately dismissed, and she left the meeting with an apprehensive frown. Senior Master Andrew opened the discussion with a brief history of the ofttimes fraught relationship between the Knights and the Maidens. It was a broad-strokes account, less comprehensive than anything I had learned with Alice or from Professor Stephanie. It disturbed me that for a couple of the younger Councillors this was new information, specifically the Knights' invasion of the Maidenhall when Stephanie was a resident. To me, their ignorance conveyed disrespect, even contempt, for the Maidens and their experiences. But then came the penny-drop. The fiftieth anniversary of the Order should be marked with an appropriate, that is memorable, gesture.

Every year in September the occupation of the Maidenhall had been commemorated, as I've alluded to, with a mock raid -- a low-key, choreographed affair, a re-enactment more ritual than riot. The Knights were almost apologetic as they barged into the building and charged up and down the corridors making lots of noise, "full of sound and fury, signifying nothing", in the words of the Bard. The ostensible victims were all very tolerant and good-humoured, responding with a "boys will be boys" equanimity. Some underwear was looted for display as trophies. Sometimes a few of the Maidens were carried off to the Temple but quickly released. Then things went back to the regular routine. This year, however, things would be different. And as the Senior Master laid out the plan, I couldn't help but wonder if his staid predecessor, whose stiff formality I had quietly mocked, would have countenanced such an over-the-top action.

Most of the other Councillors harrumphed in agreement with the proposal. And to my shame, I did not raise any objection. As a newbie Knight I felt constrained to keep my views to myself. That was nonsense, of course. I was a duly elected member of the Council. It was a lack of courage, not of legitimacy, which muted me. What I should have said was that the Maidens didn't deserve what we had planned. Yes,

we

. My silence construed consent. I made myself complicit, and now I jumped in all the way, willingly making myself part of the problem rather than the solution.

Andrew had cited a rumour, unfounded in my opinion and not at all credible, that the senior Maidens were demanding that the event be cancelled. It was a decadent, obsolete, meaningless and unnecessary expression of power. That it was also sexist was hardly a reason for its termination, in the Templar milieu. And it was a telling admission that the

Maîtresse

, waiting outside, was not called in to confirm or deny the allegation. In truth, the Maidens were not getting out of hand. There was no indication of discontent or restiveness. This year's Maidenhall incursion was to be nothing more, or less, than a raw show of strength, a crude, unwarranted, unprovoked reminder and reinforcement of the Templar hierarchy. For the Maidens, their annual rite of expiation was about to become a stringent test of their faithful and obedient epithet.

I had no idea how far the plan had already progressed; but at around midday the Council was called together again and each of us was presented with a blueprint for the operation. The central role would be played by the first-year Knights, with Mathias and I taking the lead as brevet Commanders. The Senior Master claimed that this was an accolade; yet I couldn't help but wonder if it was so we would take the bulk of the blame if something went seriously awry. After that, an assembly of all Knights was held in the common room, with about two-thirds of the full complement in attendance. There they were briefed on what was about to happen.

Any Maidens inside the Temple had meanwhile been expelled and locked out.

After that I was scheduled to meet with my committee in the Maidenhall office and decided to go ahead so as not to arouse suspicions about what was about to happen. Still, it was difficult to keep the secret and impossible to conceal my disquiet. Yet I was not just betrayed by my cagey demeanour. Alice, Devi and Lucy had been through previous episodes, and Rachel must have received warnings from her mother. But we all maintained the pretence of normality.

The four girls wore their new uniforms. It was the new design's first public airing. Passers-by in the Maidenhall who beheld it did not show any emotion, but I saw no scowls or head-shaking. The little teddy's top half drooped dramatically with the shoulder straps lowered. All four constantly adjusted it to maintain decorum, even Lucy who didn't seem to mind when just one of her nipples peeked out but drew the line at both.

The endless fiddling reminded me of when my cousin Sandra was visiting from interstate and staying in our home. She was a tall, tomboy type whose fashion choices typically ran to dungarees and baggy sweaters. At the time Kate had a waitressing job (not in the Temple, in an actual restaurant). Somehow Sandra was persuaded to take on a couple of shifts at the restaurant and had to borrow one of Kate's uniforms. What was a miniskirt on my petite sister was a micromini on my statuesque cousin. Even before she left the house she was self-consciously tugging on the seams and the hem to preserve her perceived dignity. And according to Kate, who apparently found the poor girl's struggles greatly amusing, her boss commended the new employee on her work ethic. She never sat down during the entire eight hours.

Now if I'm digressing, it's to draw the obvious parallel with the Maidens and what they endured to look (and feel) sexy. Sandra never overcame her unease, but she could also laugh about her predicament. Dealing with it was a not so unpleasurable challenge.

More to the point, my four assistants were committing themselves to the project which was their creation but would boost my reputation among the Templars. Of course, that was part of the covenant they agreed to when they chose to join the Order. Nevertheless, considering their loyalty, I was now wracked with guilt for keeping them in the dark about what would occur. And as we split up, Alice must have noticed the contrition on my face. The expression in her soft, hazel eyes was inscrutable, but I detected a hint of... disappointment? censure? It might have been my imagination.

Dinner was served as usual by the Maidens. Since the spring break was not a regular vacation period, most students at the university remained on campus, so the girls' eight-day roster still applied. Afterwards, no one would have seen anything strange in Annabel and Olivia turning up and being escorted by a few of the senior Knights into the common room. But the odd sight most of the males in the Temple going to bed early must have caused some jitters among the Maidens cleaning up downstairs.

At about four o'clock Ben and I were roused by a knock on the door. The corridor was starting to fill with bleary-eyed young Knights still pulling on jackets and footwear. Mathias and I received some strange looks in our comical Councillors' ensemble of shiny black breeches and flowing scarlet cape. It was the Senior Master who came to lead us downstairs to the common room. There the other Councillors and a few additional senior Knights were waiting. They formed a semi-circle around Annabel and Olivia. I had (and still have) no idea what transpired during the intervening hours.

The

Maîtresses

and

Châtelaine

were in their little dresses, which were the ordinary white rather than the magenta which signified their rank within

La Société

. Annabel was kneeling. Her eyes were covered by a black satin sash. Her wrists were tied in a crossed position behind her back with nylon cord. Her elbows were firmly bound, pulling her shoulders back and thus pushing forward her chest. More rope was looped around her neck to make a loose yoke. Another ran down her belly and between her legs to connect with her wrists. This was drawn so tight that it and the hem of her dress snuggled into the soft contours of her womanhood.