That she would soon give herself once more to the ugly Pakistani who killed her husband was inconceivable. It was easier to submit to him at the Facility. Everything about that place had been foreign to her. Everything had been designed to force her to her knees. But to give herself to Abul here, in her own house, in the room where she and Jeff had made love was an abomination. She looked at the door. The lock had not been changed. All she had to do was turn it.
She stared at her face in the mirror and imagined the brushes spinning over her swollen clitoris. Reaching for the KY jelly, she squeezed some on her finger. She gasped as she spread it around her anal opening. He will want me to beg, and I will. I will beg him to fuck my ass. I will kneel here in this lovely room where Jeff and I were so happy and beg my husband’s murderer to fuck my ass. She felt the tears begin again but forced them back. Crawling up onto the bed, she pressed her head against the mattress as Abul had instructed. She pulled the hem of the gown back over her hips and raised her ass. It would be the first thing anyone opening the door would see. Reaching back with both hands, she parted her ass cheeks. Her small, pink anus glistened with the KY. Trying to convince herself she was doing this to save Mary from the whip, she waited.
From the living room she heard sounds of laughter, and bits of conversation in languages she didn’t understand. It was obvious that Abul and his friends were continuing to drink. At one point, after an hour or more had passed, she heard the front door open and close and the enthusiastic greeting of new arrivals. She remained in the awkward position for another hour even though her neck ached and her arms were tired. She kept hoping that Abul would be too drunk to take her but agreeable enough to let the brushes turn since she had done exactly what she’d been ordered to do.
After another hour had gone by, she could hold the pose no longer. She stretched out full length on the bed listening intently. As soon as she heard someone at the door, she quickly got to her knees, and with her head on the mattress, reached back to part her cheeks again. Cursing herself, she closed her eyes and felt the color rush to her face.
“Look at me, bitch,” Abul slurred his words. She turned her head toward the open door. Behind Abul she could see the ugly twins, Doctor Gruber, and several other people she didn’t recognize. “What do you want, Mrs. Ryan? Tell us,” Abul ordered.
“The brushes,” Kathy began, but quickly corrected herself, “I mean, I...I...want you to...to...take me. I want you to please fuck my...my ass.”
“You wearin' that short gown for me? Them shoes? You made yourself pretty for your man...for Abul?”
“Yes, I try to be attractive for you. The gown, the heels, the lipstick...the things you like me to wear.”
“Well, if you do all that for Abul you must love him?” He laughed and the others joined in. “Wiggle your ass for us, Mrs. Ryan, and while you’re doin’it let us hear you speak the words of love to your new man.” She thought he probably was too drunk to take her but maybe if she did what he wanted he’d press the remote and let her have an orgasm. Still holding her ass cheeks apart, she moved her ass from side to side, then in a circular motion. They all laughed at her.
“I don’t fuckin’ hear nothin!” Abul shouted.
Continuing to rotate her ass she said, “I...I...love you Abul.”
Gruber stepped forward, “Do you love Abul enough to dishonor the memory of your husband in your wedding bed by pressing your lips to the anal ring of his murderer?” Kathy uttered a little cry of despair and could not answer him.
“Speak, you bitch!” Abul shouted. “Are you prepared to dishonor the memory of your dead husband by licking my ass right there in the bed you shared with him?”
“Yes, yes,” Kathy said in a horse whisper, “I will dishonor him, dishonor his memory by...by...tonguing the...the ass of his murderer here in the very bed where my husband and I first made love.”
“Love,” Abul mocked her. “Make a song of love for me. Sing a song of love to Abul, Mrs. Ryan, and keep shakin' your ass for us.”
Oh, my God...you evil bastard, she thought, how much further will you degrade me. In little more than a whisper she began to sing, “I love you, Abul.....I love you,” while she wiggled her ass obscenely.
“Louder, bitch!” Abul yelled.
“I love you, Abul...love you,” Kathy sang, unable now to hold back the tears, “I love you, Abul...love you...love you...love you...love you, Abul...love you...”
Abul made her continue for several more minutes, before he said loud enough for all to hear, “I wish you could see how pathetic you look and sound, Mrs. Ryan. I hope the spirit of your husband is in this room looking down on your disgusting performance.” Abul and his friends burst out in hooting and laughter. He slammed the door shut.
Kathy kicked off her shoes, pulled the sheet over her, and, curling into a ball, sobbed herself to sleep.
Chapter Five – Doctor Gruber and Frederick
When Kathy awoke, she felt certain she was back at the Facility again. Mi Jong, her keeper there, was standing beside the bed frowning at her. Kathy sat up quickly and pulled the blankets around her neck. “Mi Jong, what are...” she began.
“I come last night. Mr. Satomi send me. You take shower now.” The ugly Korean woman ripped the covers away from Kathy and pointed toward the bathroom. Remembering how viciously Mi Jong had whipped her breasts, Kathy was quick to obey. She stood under the hot shower for a long time, glad to be cleansed of the heavy make-up and the KY jelly. When she stepped back into the bedroom, she was surprised to see that Mi Jong had laid out new clothes and a suitcase on the bed.
“Get dressed,” Mi Jong said. “You go on trip to New York. Plane leave in two hours. Must hurry.”
“But what about Abul?” Kathy was almost afraid to ask feeling sure he would be taking her.
“Abul not here. You go by self.”
Even Mi Jong was not to accompany her. Obviously, there had been a major change in plans. She was free of Abul! The clothes that had been selected for her were expensive but in excellent taste. She was not to take this trip looking like a high priced whore. On the bed were: a black wool suit with a knee length skirt, a conservative white silk blouse, a lacy white bra, conventional black pumps, and, she was glad to see, several pairs of pantyhose. Even though it was February, her legs had been bare for months. There was also a black leather coat with matching gloves and a red cashmere scarf.
Mi Jong had begun to pack the suitcase with jeans, a wool sweater, heavy socks, a ski jacket and new leather boots. She added a cosmetic case and snapped the lid shut. “Hurry,” she waved her hand at Kathy, “must not miss plane.” Kathy made up her face using a medium red lipstick and just a touch of mascara. For the first time in almost a year, Kathy felt both clean and normal. Mi Jong handed her a new black leather purse and a folded sheet of paper. “This for you,” she said.
Apprehensively, Kathy opened it and read: “You are to have a short vacation, Mrs. Ryan. I want you to experience for a little while what your life was like in the not too distant past. A room has been reserved for you in the New York Plaza Hotel. Theater tickets and dinner reservations are available to you. You are free to do whatever pleases you during the two days after your arrival. On the third day at precisely noon, a limousine will pick you up at the main entrance to the hotel. Until then you are free. No one will be observing you. You must understand by now that should you try to break your contract by running away, I will quickly find you and the consequences will be severe for both you and your sister-in-law. Enjoy your vacation.” It was signed “S”.
“Money in purse,” Mi Jong said. Kathy looked and quickly estimated there had to be several thousand dollars. A taxi waited in the driveway. Three hours later Kathy was looking out on Central Park from a luxurious suite of rooms. She was, indeed, free: free of Abul, free of the horrible twins, free of Doctor Gruber, and free of Satomi.
Mi Jong stayed behind in Kathy’s house to, as she said, “Get things ready.” Kathy had no idea where the limo
usine was to take her and what would be required of her. Nothing could be worse than being in her own house with Abul. She laughed for the first time in months, and did a twirling dance step around the elegantly appointed room. She was here in New York City and the two days of freedom stretched out before her like a dream come true.
The days went by quickly. She ignored the theater tickets and the dinner reservations that had been made for her. Instead, she shopped for lovely conservative clothes and bought herself a rich leather coat, new shoes, and a Gucci handbag. One evening, she attended the opera at Lincoln Center. On the second night she dined at the Four Seasons and afterwards spent the evening listening to jazz at Iridium. During her four delightful hours there, three different men, all rich and young and handsome, tried to pick her up. She also noticed, even in New York where beautiful women were as common as traffic lights, both men and women turned in her direction when she passed or they paused in their conversation to look at her.
On the morning of the third day she gave the concierge instructions to have her purchases sent to her home. She put on the same things she’d worn on her flight to New York: pantyhose, a bra, the white blouse, the black suit, and heels. At precisely noon she saw from her window the limousine pull up to the side entrance of the hotel. Reluctantly, she slipped into her new leather coat and hurried to the waiting car.
As she approached it, the driver quickly got out to hold the door for her. He said nothing. They drive north to the Taconic Parkway. After two hours, they exited at Rhinebeck. Another half hour on dark narrow roads brought them to the gated entrance of a magnificent estate. She noticed the driver make a call on his cell phone. A minute later the iron gates swung open. The stone mansion sat at the end of a long paved driveway. A thin woman in black who appeared to be in her fifties met Kathy at the door. “I’m Ms. Foster,” she said. “We’ve been expecting you. I’ll take you to your room.” Kathy ascended the ornate curved stairway. At regular intervals along the wall were niches, which held lovely statues of Gods and Goddesses from Greek mythology. Some were marble, others delicate china and a few seemed to be made of gold.
At the end of the hallway, Mrs. Foster opened a heavy oak door and entered. Kathy followed. It was a large room with a high ceiling. Brocade drapes covered the tall windows. The polished hardwood floor was bare. The room was tastefully decorated. A huge four-poster bed stood against one wall. There were several overstuffed chairs, an ornate dressing table, a full-length mirror, and a huge wardrobe closet. Opposite the bed was a door, which, Mr. Foster explained, led to a private bath.
The older woman indicated that Kathy was to sit in one of the chairs. Ms. Foster stood stiffly before her. “You are in the home of Doctor Gruber,” she said, frowning. Kathy cried out and began to rise. Ms. Foster slapped her hard across the face and shoved her back in the chair. “Mr. Satomi, instructed that Abul person to give you to the Doctor for a few days. You have nothing to say in these matters. You are the property of Mr. Satomi and he will do with you as he wishes. It seems your stay at the Facility has taught you very little. We are aware that your sister-in-law is there now. You must understand that anything less than quick and complete obedience from you will result in painful punishment for her. Is that clear?” Ms. Foster stepped back and folded her arms across her flat chest.
Kathy nodded, “Yes, I’ll obey,” she said softly.
“If you will notice,” Ms. Foster pointed to the ceiling and the walls, “the room is equipped with a number of video cameras. You will be on a monitor that is watched twenty-four hours a day. You will also be recorded on videotape. Any attempt to disobey or to subvert the rules will be noted and a message will be sent immediately to the Facility. Within two hours of any infraction, you will hear the recorded screams of that young woman you care so much about.”
“I promise, Ms. Foster, to do what I’m told to do.”
“Very well. Take a hot bath now. When you finish there will be some food and a warm drink on the bedside table. The drink contains a strong sedative. You will sleep until late tomorrow afternoon. You are to be presented to the Doctor’s guests tomorrow evening. When you awake, give yourself a thorough enema and another bath. I will then come to prepare you.” She waited for Kathy to respond.
“Yes, Ms. Foster, I understand,” Kathy bowed her head. When she looked up, the door was closing behind the stern woman. She heard a key turn in the lock. Kathy slept even longer than Ms. Foster predicted. When she awoke it took several minutes before she remembered where she was. The idea that she had been given, even temporarily to Gruber, who she thought of as Doctor Death, horrified her. She recalled his unblinking stare, the pale sunken eyes, the icy smooth skin of his hand on her bare shoulder. He was unlike anyone she’d ever met: commanding, cold, and terrifying. It was also Gruber who had made the poison that had killed her husband.
She glanced at the video cameras above her canopied bed and at the others recessed into the ceiling and walls. Their tiny red lights glowed. She was being watched. Even in the black tiled bathroom, there was no place to hide from them as she gave herself the enema and then bathed. When she emerged from the curtained tub, two stout black women in nurses’ uniforms were waiting with large towels to dry her. Neither of them spoke except to direct her to the dressing table where they dried her hair and expertly styled and brushed it. She was then rubbed vigorously with heavy scented oil. When they were satisfied, they left. Kathy sat naked at the table, ...waiting.
After a few minutes, the door swung open and Ms. Foster entered, closing it behind her. “You were trained in the proper use of cosmetics at the Facility, were you not?”
“Yes,” Kathy answered, “I’ve been trained.”
“Well then, for tonight’s entertainment you are to look desirable but not whorish, young but not a child...blue eye-shadow...dark mascara...bright red lipstick and gloss. Your nipples, your cunt, and your anus are to remain natural.” She pulled a chair over to the table. “You’ll find everything you need on the shelf and in the center drawer,” she said.
“Thank you,” Kathy tried to keep the fear out of her voice and struggled to keep her hand from shaking as she carefully applied the cosmetics Ms. Foster had prescribed. When she finished, Ms. Foster nodded her approval and turned Kathy to face her. She took from a canvas bag a black leather collar different from any Kathy had worn before. It was made of rich black leather and appeared to be at least four inches wide. As Ms. Foster buckled it around her neck Kathy realized the design forced her chin up so that she had to keep her head erect and slightly tilted back. The collar completely covered her neck. Movement from side to side was severely limited and painful. At regular intervals around the collar were four iron “D” rings.
When the collar was in place, Ms. Foster pointed to a pair of black leather pumps with five and a half inch pencil thin heels. Since Kathy was unable to look down, Ms. Foster slid Kathy’s small feet into the shoes, which were tight and cut low at the base of Kathy’s toes. Although, at the Facility, she had been accustomed to walking in five-inch heels, the extra half-inch threw her off balance. Ms. Foster made her walk back and forth across the room until she was satisfied that Kathy could move gracefully. “Walk erect, shoulders back,” she called out. “Breasts pushed forward.” The collar did not permit Kathy to look right or left or to lower her chin. Ms. Foster directed her to walk toward the full-length mirror, which was set into the far wall.
Kathy heard the measured click of her heels on the hardwood floor and then, in the flickering half-light, her image appeared in the glass. Her pale body seem to gleam. The red luster of her full lips glistened. The spike heels accentuated the curve of her calf muscles and elevated her firm buttocks. Her small breasts were also high and firm, their extraordinarily long pink nipples stiff. ‘I look like an object,’ she thought, ‘a finely proportioned, tastefully decorated, beautifully presented object. In a very real way that’s what I’ve become.’
“Take shorter steps,” Ms. Foster instructed. “Th
e Doctor will want you to move slowly so that the full effect of your naked body is felt by his guests.” Kathy turned away from the mirror and, taking small steps, walked back toward Mrs. Foster. The older woman nodded approvingly, “Yes, that’s right, head high. Your breasts are lovely and your long nipples are magnificent.” Kathy felt herself blush at the compliment. “Your breasts and especially your inviting nipples will receive much attention tonight. I also expect your rosy anal opening will be well used.”
Kathy began to feel the emptiness recede as it was replaced with both fear and arousal. Her nipples had always been extremely sensitive. The oil that had been rubbed into them made them even more so. Ms. Foster directed Kathy to bend over the make-up table and reach back to part her ass cheeks. No matter how often she’d been made to take this obscene position, she hated it. Ms. Foster slipped on a plastic glove. After a moment, Kathy felt the woman’s fingers pushing a stimulating salve deep into her anal passage. Then, more salve was inserted into her vagina and rubbed along her labial lips. The ointment was much more powerful than those she’d experienced at the Facility. She longed for the brushes inside the clitoral cap to spin.
Ms. Foster wiped away the traces of salve and directed Kathy to sit facing her. “A few final instructions.” Ms. Foster looked hard at Kathy. “You are to speak to no one. You will communicate by shaking your head ‘no’ and by nodding ‘yes’. After the guests leave, you are to speak only when the Doctor gives you permission. During the evening, you are neither to smile nor frown. You are to accept, impassively, all that is done to you. You are little more than an ornament, a bauble meant to amuse and entertain. Is that clear?”
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