Miko squirted the KY into Kathy’s anal passage then directed her to sit at the dressing table again. She rubbed some of Gruber’s salve on Kathy’s nipples. Kathy felt a tingling warmth spread over her breasts as her nipples stiffened. “Here is gown.” Miko placed the box on Kathy’s knees. “We took in waist so will fit tight.”
Carefully, Kathy lifted the lid. On top of the gown was a note. She recognized Jeff’s handwriting immediately. Unfolding it with trembling hands, she read: “My Dearest Wife, when you read this it will be February. We will be in our suite of rooms overlooking the Caribbean Sea: warm soft breezes, swaying palms, boats bobbing at anchor in the harbor, and a sky filled with stars. And soon, as we enter the dining room with you wearing this gown, everyone will know that you are the loveliest woman in the resort, and I am the luckiest man. Our second honeymoon, dearest Kathy. Oh, how I love you. Jeff”.
Kathy was ready to give in to tears again, but Miko pulled her up. “Stand,” she said, “you start crying tonight, Abul will send you to Gruber, and I hope he does.” She held up the gown. It was made of sheer gold mesh.
Kathy gasped and reached out to touch it, “Oh, my,” she whispered softly, “poor, poor dear Jeff...” Miko took a step back still holding the gown. It was floor length with a slit up the right side to just above Kathy’s knee.
“Put on,” Miko said, and helped Kathy get into the tight gown. It fit like a second skin. The front dipped down into a low-scooped neckline that exposed the upper swell of Kathy’s breasts. Spaghetti straps tied at her shoulders. Her back was completely exposed in a wide “V” that ended just where the “V” of her buttocks began. From the closet, Mi Jong had taken a new pair of shoes. They were slides with open toes and a five-inch heel. Kathy wiggled her tiny feet into them. From the bottom of the box, Miko took a small velvet covered case and handed it to Kathy. Inside was a beautiful gold necklace. “Is also from your husband,” Miko said, frowning.
Again, Kathy had to fight back tears as Miko helped her fasten the clasp at the back of her neck. “Oh, Miko, he was such a good man,” she said.
“And you make self pretty. Wear gown he buy for you and gold necklace to go upstairs and spend night with Abul. Ought to be ashamed.”
Both women glared at her, “Ought to be whipped...whipped good,” Mi Jong said.
“Yes, I am ashamed,” Kathy said, “more ashamed than I’ve ever been.” She looked at Mi Jong, “Yes, I should be whipped. I would rather die under the whip than go to Abul.”
“I don’t believe you,” Miko said.
“I don’t either,” Mi Jong added. A light Kathy hadn’t noticed above the door blinked on and off. Mi Jong shook her head, “That’s Abul. You go to him now.”
As she ascended the stairs, she hoped Abul’s friends would be with him. He had humiliated her unmercifully in front of them, but nothing could be as bad as being alone with him. He had a quick temper and could go into a violent rage for little or no reason. The possibility that he might seriously harm her or kill her was a real one. Even the bitchy little Vietnamese would be a welcome sight.
She could tell from the reflections in the hallway that a fire was burning in the living room fireplace, but she heard no voices. The tight dress forced her to take small steps. She stood for a moment in the entrance, dismayed to see that the room’s only occupant was Abul. He sat in the big leather chair some distance from the fireplace but facing it. Without turning toward her, he said, “Bring me a drink, Mrs. Ryan.” She saw that bourbon, ice, and glasses had been set out on the narrow table behind the couch. She filled Abul’s glass with bourbon and ice and took it to him. When he finally looked up at her, she noticed he seemed a bit startled. She knew she had never appeared more beautiful, and the soft glow of the firelight seemed to make the golden gown shimmer. Abul was wearing Jeff’s silk robe and nothing else.
If the firelight complimented her, it made him look even more grotesque than he was. His face repulsed her. He grinned as he accepted the drink, showing the yellow stubs of his rotting teeth. She saw that both his hands and his huge feet were grimy. He gestured toward the fireplace. “Stand there, Mrs. Ryan, between me and the fire. I want to get the full effect of your careful preparations.” Embarrassed, she stood facing him with her hands at her side. “Ah, yes, it’s obvious you wanted to impress your master. Is that so?”
“Yes, Abul. I wanted very much for you to be pleased with me.”
“It’s a provocative dress and, I think, a very expensive one. How did you come by it?”
He was up to his old game, hurting her with reminders of Jeff. “My husband bought it for me. It’s a gift from him.”
“Yes, so I’ve heard,” Abul said sarcastically. “It’s the middle of February. If your husband had lived where would you be wearing that dress tonight?”
Kathy stared at him and knew he could see that she despised him, “My husband had made reservations for us at a resort in the Caribbean. If...if...he were alive I would be wearing his lovely gift tonight while we dined.”
“But since he is not alive?” Abul waited for her response.
“I have chosen to wear it for you.”
“But, Mrs. Ryan,” Abul raised his eyebrows in mock surprise, “I am the reason your husband is not here to escort you through an elegant dining room where warm breezes blow and the palm trees sway. Is that not correct? How can you flaunt yourself so lasciviously in your husband’s beautiful gift before the man who...who...,” He nodded at her indicating she was to finish his sentence.
She clasped her hands tightly in front of her. “I wear the dress in the hope that you will find me desirable...that you will want me.” She took a step toward him. “It...it is my sincere wish that you will...will...take me as your wife.” She had begun to feel the effect of the powerful salve Miko and Mi Jong had rubbed into her vagina and anal opening. Those areas seemed to be inflamed with a burning, tingling sensation that caused her clitoris to swell and her slit to moisten. It also brought a flush to her face and breasts that Abul was quick to notice.
He patted the wide upholstered arm of the leather chair. “Sit here, Mrs. Ryan,” he said. When she was seated, he put his rough hand on her bare back causing her to flinch. “A woman who wants a big favor ought to welcome the touch of the man who will decide whether or not she gets it.” His hand slowly moved up along her spine.
She turned toward him, “I’m sorry, Abul. It’s just...just...that I wasn’t expecting...”
“You weren’t expecting me to touch you? But isn’t that why you’re here? You want me to touch you. You want me to let the brushes spin over your wet clit. You want me to pinch your nipples.” His hand moved to her breast. “You want me to kiss you. You want to suck my cock and drink my cum. You want to feel my big prick in your ass. Aren’t these things true?” On the outside of her dress, he toyed with her stiff nipple.
She found herself wishing he would twist it hard. “Yes, Abul,” she looked away from him toward the fire, “I want all of the things you say: the feel of your hands on me, your kisses, your...your cock. I want it in...in my mouth.” She turned back to him. “I...I...want to feel it...to...to feel your cock in...in my ass.” She looked down at his long dark fingers as they rubbed her nipples. “In the past I never imagined anyone did that. I wouldn’t have believed that women gave themselves in that way, but now...since you...” she didn’t finish.
He took his hand from her breast and trailed his fingers along her bare thigh. “Tell me, Mrs. Ryan, would you have offered yourself to me if your husband were still alive? Speak the truth.”
She wondered how he had the nerve to ask such a ridiculous question. “No,” she said evenly. “If my husband were alive he would have sent you to the hospital or killed you if you dared to touch me.”
It was not the answer he wanted. She could see the anger flash in his eyes, “You forget, bitch, that I am a soldier. I have killed many.”
She remembered what Uzetta had told her about Abul’s career as a soldier. H
e’d been the worst kind of coward. He’d killed only defenseless women and children. Whenever real soldiers appeared, Abul ran. For a moment she’d forgotten her purpose. She couldn’t afford to offend him. “I’m sorry, Abul, I did forget. You are a strong man and a brave one. But you must understand, I loved my husband. I had no knowledge of you. As long as Jeff was alive no other man in the world would have interested me.”
He moved his hand up her thigh until she felt his fingertips on the slick outer folds of her pussy. He could feel the heat and wetness. “So, if I were to take you...to make you my woman, it was necessary for me to kill your husband? There was no other way, yes?”
She hoped he would push one of his long dirty fingers into her cunt. “That’s true, Abul, there was no other way you could have had me.” He slipped the tip of his index finger in but then withdrew it. She turned his head toward her and leaning down brushed her lips against his. She gently touched her lips to his. “And...and, Abul, I want to be here with you like this,” she said softly. On the table beside him was the remote. He picked it up. Kathy felt a burning desire in her pussy. She leaned close to him and whispered, “You have taken his place, Abul. I’m your woman now. I...I...want you. I give myself to you tonight freely and completely.” He let the brushes spin for just a moment. Kathy closed her eyes and groaned. When she opened them, he was shaking the cubes in his empty glass. “Yes, Abul, yes. I’m sorry. I should have noticed,” she said and, trembling slightly, hurried to refill it.
She returned and was about to sit on the chair arm again, but he held up his hand. “Not yet,” he said. “Stand here in front of me. I see you are wearing a very expensive gold necklace. Is it also a gift from your husband?”
“Yes, it was in the box with the dress.”
From the table at his side, he took a framed photograph. It was the one from Jeff’s desk, the picture of the happy bride and bridegroom laughing and waving from the steps of the church. Draped over the photograph was a worn black leather dog collar. He held the photograph out to her, “A gift to you from me. I had Freddie send it,” he said. “Would you like to wear it?” Tentatively, she reached out for the collar. “Smell it, Mrs. Ryan.” Kathy lifted the color to her nose. “Does it smell familiar?” Abul grinned at her.
“It...it was the dog’s,” she said.
“And now it’s yours,” Abul nodded at her. “But, Mrs. Ryan, put it on only if you would rather wear it than your husband’s gift.” With trembling hands she reached behind her neck and unfastened the clasp of Jeff’s necklace, which she handed to Abul. Hating herself, she buckled the dog collar around her neck. “It’s a perfect fit,” Abul said. “It will also serve as a reminder of two things. Do you know what they are?”
“It will remind me of my place as your woman and of what will happen to me if you do not take me as your wife.”
“And you are learning your place? Do you honestly want me to take you as my wife?”
She took a step toward him and brought her fingers up to touch the collar, “Yes, Abul, I am learning my place. I want with all my heart for you to take me as your wife.”
“Even if I had to kill your husband to make our marriage possible?”
Kathy was silent for a moment, hating him but knowing what she had to say and do. She bowed her head, “Yes, even if you had to kill my dear husband,” she said. She felt he wanted her to say something more. She raised her head, “You have...I mean I’ve come to realize you have a strength that isn’t diminished by sympathy or mercy. I’ve learned to respect that.” She looked away, then back at him, “I’ve learned to...to...almost welcome the power you have over me. As you know, I hated it, fought against it. But...but recently I’ve discovered...much to my despair, that it...it excites me...that belonging to you excites me.”
She saw that her answer satisfied him. He held the beautiful necklace Jeff had given her in his hand. “Your rival for my affections would like this. Should I give your husband’s expensive gift to Kim?”
Kathy looked at the necklace he held out to her and felt a sudden rage that quickly turned to sadness. “Yes, Abul, give it to...to...Mistress Kim,” she said. “She is worthy of such a beautiful gift. I’m sure she will be pleased with it.”
Abul placed the necklace on the table beside him, then opened his robe and crossed one bare leg over the other, dangling his right foot. “I need to say just one word, don’t I?” She glanced down at his foot then up at him and nodded. “What’s the word, Mrs. Ryan?”
“Respect,” she murmured.
His face hardened. He stared unblinking at her until she looked away, “Respect,” he said.
Kathy moved close to him and very slowly got to her knees. With both hands, she lifted his calloused foot and lowered her head to gently press her parted lips to his filthy toes. As she did so, she felt the warm secretions ooze from her cunt.
Abul looked down at her and smiled, “Here you are, Mrs. Ryan, in your own house, a stunningly beautiful woman, dressed in a revealing gold gown, kneeling at my feet. Obediently, you bend lower and press your warm lips to the dirty toes of the man who killed your husband. I wonder if you know how much I enjoy seeing you like this, how much I love to hurt and humiliate you, how much pleasure it gives me to know that now you are completely mine, that you belong to me.” Kathy raised her head. He sneered down at her, “I say again, Mrs. Ryan, respect. Show the man who took your husband from you the respect he deserves. Linger this time. I enjoy watching you kiss my feet.”
Kathy bent down over the crooked filthy toes with their long black toenails. Gently she pressed her parted lips to the base of his toes.
“That’s right,” Abul said, “think about where you are and what you are doing.” She looked up at him trying to hide her anger. Her wet lips glistened in the firelight. “In your own house, Mrs. Ryan, submissively kneeling at the feet of Abul, yes?”
“Yes,” she said softly, “in my own house kneeling at the feet of Abul.”
He nodded and grinned down at her, “Now, you know what you must do. Tongue, Mrs. Ryan. I want to feel your loving tongue.” She licked his toes.
“You find that both revolting and arousing, don’t you, Mrs. Ryan?” Abul sipped his drink as he looked down at her.
“Yes,” she said, “it is both...I don’t know why, but it is both.”
“Tell me, Mrs. Ryan, how often since your arrival at the Facility seven weeks ago, have you kissed my feet? How often have you sucked my prick? How often have I fucked your ass?”
“I...I...don’t know. Ten or twelve times maybe.”
“That comes to less than twice a week since we’ve known each other. If I should agree to marry you, how do you estimate that number will change?”
She knew he was forcing her to imagine what her life would be like as his wife. “I will do whatever you want as often as you wish,” she said but saw that he wanted her to be more specific. “I will show you respect several times a day in private or in public.”
“Will it be necessary for me to order you to demonstrate your respect?”
“No, whenever I sense that you wish me to, I will kneel before you and I will press my lips to...to...your toes. You needn’t order me to do it.” She looked down at his long dark toes with their ragged nails. Of all the disgusting things about him, his feet were the most repulsive.
“And the rest, the cocksucking and ass fucking,” Abul placed his foot on her thigh.
“If we are husband and wife, I will...will...suck your cock and take your cum two or three times a day if that’s what you wish. My ass will be ready for you to fuck every night or more often.” She leaned forward placing her hands on his knees and looking up at him. “Please, Abul, I’m begging you to marry me. I will be a loving and obedient wife...I promise you.”
“If I want you to give yourself to my friends or to sell your services to strangers?” In one long swallow he finished his drink.
She’d expected him to offer her to his friends. But to prostitute herself ...to gi
ve her body to strangers for money was something she had never imagined. How could she, Kathy Ryan, ever degrade herself like that. But soon she would not be Kathy Ryan. She’d truly belong to Abul. Kathy thought for a moment before answering. “Abul, in the eyes of the state and the Church, I will be your wife. I will think of myself as your wife. But we both know I will also be your whore. I will belong to you. If you wish, I will give myself to your friends or offer myself to strangers for money.”
Abul moved his foot along her thigh until his toes touched her slit. “You’re very wet, Mrs. Ryan. Your cunt is like a little furnace.”
She held his foot in both hands and pressed it tight against her hairless crotch. “Please, Abul,” she looked up at him, “let the brushes turn. I...I...am so...so hot.”
Abruptly, he placed his foot on the floor and held out his empty glass. “Fill it,” he said, “and make another for yourself, just bourbon and ice.” The tightness of the gown forced her to rise slowly. “Faster, damn you!” he growled. “You must learn to run and fetch.” Taking quick little steps she rushed to make his drink and hurried back with it. He grinned up at her, “Run and fetch, that’s what you will do every time I require something. You will always hurry to please me?”
“Yes, Abul, I will.”
He drank, then pulled her down to sit on his lap. Kathy was aware that the scent of Jeff’s cologne was still on the robe. She almost burst into tears. Their wedding picture was on the small table next to the chair. Abul noticed her glance at it and quickly look away. He put his arm around her waist and moved his hand up to cup her breast.
“Drink,” he said. Kathy never liked the taste of liquor. Neither she nor Jeff drank anything except, on rare occasions, wine or champagne. She knew the bourbon would go straight to her head. Perhaps, as long as she didn’t get sick, it would help her get through the night. She forced herself to drink half the glass. Abul’s arm tightened around her waist, pulling her closer to him. He held the photograph up to her. “If I choose to marry you, will we look like this?”
Marriage Page 18
