In one of the press boxes, high above the auditorium I smoked a joint while I waited for Dominique to begin.
In a pool of light, before the screen, her projected image monumental, she drew all eyes to her.
The intent audience, consisting primarily of beautiful, ruthlessly focused women leaned forward, magnetized, as her monotone whisper coiled hypnotically through the room.
“I am a child of the dance whose steps were old long before civilization reared its' Medusas head. My first memories are of the garden wherein I learned seduction for the first time. I did my job too well. Promised eternal wisdom I became, instead, a toilet
to hold the curse of the beast who fell because of me.
What irony. The apple would have rotted on the tree if not for me.
It was I who turned the first trick not the snake.
We have come far from the garden, my fledgling sisters. Once, we were deceived- never again.”
“Never again!” They chanted as they stood and clapped fervently. They were charged, as only women with a knowledge of their oppressive history and the realization that now the achievement of true power was possible could be charged.
I shook my head.
“Scary.” I said, and took another hit.
That was the official birth of the GLORY GIRLS.
In theory as well as practice we were not equal opportunity employers. Women were the primary focus of the various recruitment programs for our ever burgeoning empire. Except for me, men were the gofers, the maintenance men, the garbage men and did all the heavy labor. They were always supervised by a woman.
Although Dominique assured me that it was all about me, sometimes, when I was feeling paranoid, I wondered what real purpose I served in this grand design?
GLORY GIRLS were conceived by Dominique, shortly after the establishment of THE UNIVERSAL CHURCH OF GLORY. They were one of the more obvious, outward manifestations of her own sea change. Their ostensible purpose was to provide the front line staff for the many headed hydra that was GLORY INTERNATIONAL, the holding company that supervised all activities of the church. It soon became evident that this was not all they were intended for.
To the Catholic Church the Jesuits represented the church militant. They were the soldiers of Christ. Dominique took the concept to its extreme. She created a private army of beautiful, brilliant, cold blooded, white, blonde, Amazons, modeled upon the SS of the Third Reich. Each of them was highly skilled in psychological seduction, physical warfare and weaponry. They were the shock troops in a war that only Dominique's imagination knew the limits of, or the reason for.
I took another hit off the joint as I listened to Dominique preach the gospel.
“...men are weak and highly susceptible to subtle suggestions. To reformat their reality most efficiently to your needs it is best, unless necessary, not to be forceful or strident. It is much more effective to channel their self doubt with subtlety and skill and you will draw them with you into depths beyond their understanding. When they are totally adrift, dependent upon you for their security. Constantly but carefully make them aware of their limitations in an accepting, loving, and patient manner. Subconsciously they will come to believe you are more powerful than they- more in control of the inner turmoil that they cannot comprehend. They will consciously deny your strengths because, unconsciously, they deny its' existence. Do not rely upon or expect their praise or gratitude. Your role is to take on and share their burden. They accept your aid because they believe it is their divine right for women to serve them. This will defeat them.”
The new trainees that filled the auditorium, with their perfectly tailored images, briefcases and purposeful expressions, tried so hard to project sophistication and unflappability. In spite of their efforts it was hard not to be a little bent at first. Often I saw the tension in their eyes although, as they gained understanding and grew into their roles, it was quickly replaced by an almost universal mask of innocence and confidence.
However, an innocent face here didn’t mean anything like what it did out there, in the world. Here it was part of the uniform of a specialist at the art of deception. It meant they were successes.
I had a headache.
“Men see themselves as the center of the universe. Their egos betray them. Your only value to them is in relationship to themselves. They will accept you as long as they perceive you as their ally- their handmaiden.”
“You are now soldiers of THE UNIVERSAL CHURCH OF GLORY. The church is the fountainhead of your power. The moment that you recognize that you are in the service of true greatness you will recognize that greatness in yourself. It will draw out of you abilities that you never accepted, power that has always been within you.”
“Our responsibility is to create a new garden upon the earth where women might flourish, unburdened by the chains of men.”
“This time we will outwit the snake.”
“What if it’s true?” I wondered aloud.
Thanks to Dominique's meticulous records there were numerous video tapes of GLORY GIRLS at work with their clients. Just as Dominique's personal client records from the early days, time and again, had proven invaluable, so too did these. Take for example number A-666-098-S that I have dramatized for you.
"He was not a big man. He was elephantine. He had enormous overburdened trees for arms and pillars of meat for legs. The circumference of his vast belly reflected his gargantuan appetites. Within the dull, gray mass of his face his blood flushed cheeks and flint sharp eyes were the only sign that he was alive inside his flesh.
He was food.
She was tall and proud and perfect in every detail. Her hair was glossy and white blonde. Her eyes were bottomless blue drowning pools. Schooled in all the fine and devious arts of seduction, deception and control, she was an expert at feeding the insatiable hunger of the UNIVERSAL CHURCH OF GLORY
She was a GLORY GIRL.
“So, tell me honey, what else do you do but be the interface?” He took a quick sip of his drink as he stared at her legs. “Jesus! What they think you are, a robot?”
“That’s just the party line.” She said with a laugh.
She sat across from him. Her dress, a short, watered silk, designer original, showed off her athletic body to perfection. Her long legs were smooth, sleek and firm. She crossed them often enough to keep him on the edge of his chair.
“Well, whatever you call it. What they are is nuts. I mean a woman like you is enough to go to war over.”
“Well thank you kind sir! Compliments like that will get you everything.”
“Just what do ya mean, ‘everythin,’ little lady? In my world that covers a lot of bases.” He said and leaned forward. He leered seductively.
“I mean, everything.” she replied, and leaned forward to meet him. Her breasts swelled out of her dress like lush, creamy clouds. She made sure that he got a long- agonizingly long, look.
“Well, when do we get started?” He almost fell upon her in his eagerness. Unconsciously he rubbed the monstrous swelling in his pants.
Her smile revealed how thoroughly she knew him. Skillfully she played the game that could have been any other of the myriad of games she knew better than most people knew themselves.
“Why what did you have in mind Mr. Man?”
Her smile was a tight-rope suspended between innocence and jaded sophistication.
“Well I tell ya, little lady,” he drawled on in a feeble imitation of John Wayne, “how about we play a little horsy horsy?”
“Who’s going to be the horse?” She asked, quietly with a look that drained his will like blood from a sacrifice."
If this would have been their only skill they would be no different than any of the other myriad courtesans that plied their trade everywhere there was a buck but it wasn’t. GLORY GIRLS were thoroughly trained in psychology, political science, business administration, weapons and explosives, and hand to hand combat. They were excellent swimmers, skiers and runners, and knew everything that counted about culture, poise and social grace. Casual lesbianism or strict asexuality was actively encouraged. To have a serious male partner was one of the quickest way to be dropped from the program.
An aggressive recruitment program sought out GLORY GIRL candidates while they were still in high-school. The basic GLORY GIRL training program took 4 years to complete and came with a bachelor's degree. Ongoing education was a necessity for advancement but those with special skills were not required to fulfill anything more than the basic program. While they learned they were active, extremely well-paid participants in the activities of GLORY INTERNATIONAL®.
I sat there, in the press booth, my head ponderous with pain. My headache only made worse by the scene below.
One by one the audience of women filed past Dominique. As each one stopped before her she bowed her head and Dominique reached out and touched the proffered forehead with her fingertip. It seemed a bizarre ritual. Suddenly I thought of the comment she made when we first began to talk of our plans for the future.
“And what do you plan to be in this brave new world you envision, my love? God?”
“Why not. If I can pull it off.”
“And what role would I play? The anti-Virgin?”
When she said it I thought she was being facetious. I should have known better.