As I pulled Camille by her hair, I felt I was entering new levels of cruelty. Up until now we played these escenes with a lot of care. They were shorter in lenght and even if I was increasing the intensity of the whipping, still I was working as if I was walking on glass. But not on this session.

I was hitting harder and I was less concerned about how Camille felt. I was confident that she would let me know if I was going too far, so I was less carefull and I could sense that when I grabbed her by the hair to make her sit. Camille let out a cry of real pain but she didn't stop the action. It was ok then, for me. She was suffering but it was bearable for my favorite victim.

Maricelli had one epyphany once. In the script, of course. She saw a captured slave as he was taken to her father. She saw the slave in chains, a long piece of wood over his shoulders, his arms over it. As he was being dragged away, he as beaten with a heavy whip. As he walked away from Maricelli's father, he turned to see him and he smiled defiant.

Maricelli saw herself in his place, her back naked, showing the marks of the whip and she saw herself smile in defiance of her father.

I left Camille leaning against the post, sitting on her legs. She held her head down, as if she hardly consciouss. I told her about Maricelli's experience, the fantasy of seeing herself as the captured runaway slave. I told her too that what she saw in the slave was the same as her deepes fantasy. Her favorite saint being taken away, under the whip, the crossbar over her shoulders.

"That's what we'll do today" I told her. "You will carry your cross."

I was sure that as she waited for me to return to continue her torments, she was thinking of that fantasy and Maricelli's experience.

It was hard for me to explain all this to someone who didn't have a deep religious education.