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“Fear and pain gives a powerful erection. I want to see that.”
    Toby hesitated only a second before he closed his eyes and stripped. He slipped to his knees on the hard floor. The bodyguard handed him the whip.
    His hand visibly trembled as he took it and began the self-flagellation. He swung the scourge over his left shoulder and winced as the knotted cords stung his thin back.
    “That barely left welts,” Baylor said disinterestedly. “Again. In the same spot.”
    The young man scrunched his eyes shut and flogged himself again, biting his lip as the ends split his flesh.

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    “Again.”
    He whimpered and did as he was told.
    “Now the other side.”
    He fought to control the tears as the blood flowed from open wounds.
    Baylor leaned forward over his desk. “Still no erection, I see.” He nodded to the bodyguard who took the whip and pushed the young man down unto his elbows,
    exposing buttocks and the soles of his feet.
    “Feet first,” Baylor said.
    The scourge bore down, flaying the tender insoles and then attacking the heels.
    The young man flinched and Baylor grunted in satisfaction. It would be several days before walking could be done without excruciating pain.
    Toby was crying openly now, making no attempt to withstand the pain. He
    screamed when the deadly whip began its assault on his bony buttocks, slashing the tender skin and causing blood to flow into his buttocks’ crevice, and over his testicles and onto the floor. The pain was so intense he almost passed out. Lifting his eyes, he prayed that he would. And then, his tormentor began to drag the whip over his body slowly, almost tickling him with it. The relief of the light touch blended with the pain and, in spite of himself, he hardened suddenly.
    “Ah,” Baylor leaned back. “You could have spared yourself a lot of this if you’d just let that happen earlier.”
    “Y … yes, Sir.” With a sigh of relief he rose to his knees, but Baylor held up a hand. The guard dangled the cat-o-nine tails over his penis.
    “Make yourself come.”
    In sheer terror, tears rolling down his face, Toby grabbed himself and started jerking as though his life depended on it. It did.

    * * * *
Baylor frowned at a small spot of blood that had dripped onto the carpet as the guard had led the stooge away. He thought he had made a suitable impression on his small audience. It should be a long time before any of them thought not to follow his orders to the letter. He almost laughed to himself how quickly the others had asked to be excused to see to his other requests.
    Which was okay since he had satisfied his own rather lustful urge watching the whole thing and needed a bit of tidying himself in his executive washroom.
    But the floor was a careless mistake. The blood cleaned up from the marble
    easily, it was why he had it there, but the carpet would have a brown spot. He’d have to check and see if the cleaning lady was married or had kids. Perhaps he would arrange for a small accident. Nothing major. Just enough to let her know that in the future she should be more circumspect with his Persian carpets.
    He poured himself a cognac, settled in an ultra-soft leather chair, lit a Cuban cigar and pondered the outcome of today’s work. He was not pleased that he had lost the manuscript, but the girl could be traced. And the bitch would pay when he caught up to her. He would think of special torture to compensate himself for this extra waste of his time.
    But what annoyed him more, he wouldn’t use the word “worry,” was the purchase
    of the Templar shield. It held its own subtle magic vested by that meddlesome Merlin long ago. Baylor recognized it immediately. De Molay had been carrying it when SEARCH FOR THE SPEAR Cynthia Breeding 15
    Philippe sent his men in to arrest him. He smiled, remembering how easy it had been to instill insatiable greed into the French king and the weak pope … well, Clement hadn’t even given a