Vinnie rubbed his prick along her glistening pussy lips again. She caught her breath. “Need,” she whispered.
Stein nodded, smiling, “Need means you have no control over it. I will ask Vinnie’s question once more. We’d like to hear your answer and know that it is freely given, that we have not forced it. We’d also like to know what you think it means to be a man’s private whore.”
Vinnie kept teasing her clitoris with the head of his cock. In front of her was the dark, pimpled crack of Richie’s foul smelling ass. “I...I...state that no one here has forced me to be what I have now agreed to become.” She paused.
“Which is?” Stein asked.
“Vinnie’s private whore. I will belong to him...be his private whore for as long as he will have me.”
“And that means?” Stein questioned.
Kathy could feel the blood rush to her cheeks and then to her breasts and hard nipples. “If I am Vinnie’s private whore it means I will have sex with no one else but him.”
“Unless...” Stein prompted.
It was all happening so fast. Kathy hadn’t considered the full implications of what they were asking. Now she knew. “I...I won’t have sex with anyone but Vinnie, unless he wants me to...to...have sex with others...his friends.”
Stein could see that her breath was coming quickly now. “And what services might you perform for Vinnie’s friends?” Vinnie reached forward to roll her nipple between his thumb and index finger.
She tried to suppress a low moan but couldn’t. “I’ll do whatever he wants me to do.” They waited. “Undress in front of them, tease, make love, offer my breasts..., my mouth...suck their...their cocks if that’s what he wants me to do...offer my...my cunt, beg to be fucked.” She paused and swallowed. “I...I’ll offer him...them...his friends...my...my ass to be fucked.” Stein leaned back in his chair and nodded at Vinnie.
Vinnie slapped her ass cheek, “And how do whores get their main man a little spending money?” he asked.
“They...they prostitute themselves.”
Stein chuckled, “Explain exactly what that means and specifically what it means in this new relationship you’ve begun with Vinnie.”
Vinnie slapped her other cheek, then reached forward and began to rub her clit with his calloused thumb. Kathy drew in her breath, uttered a little cry, and then whispered, “Some women offer themselves to strangers for money...they fuck strangers for money. I...I...will do that. Fuck strangers, I mean. They will pay me and I’ll give the money to Vinnie.”
“Good,” Vinnie grunted, “now what do you want, Widow Ryan?”
“Please,” she said, looking back at him, “please fuck me.”
“Not till I see you got your tongue in Richie’s crack,” he said.
Richie backed toward her and spread his ass cheeks. The foul stench of urine and body odor brought the gorge up into her throat. She tried not to see the pimpled black ring of his hole.
She heard Stein laughing, “Tell her, Richie,” he shouted. “Tell her what to do.”
“L...l...li...lick it,” Richie sputtered.
Closing her eyes, she stretched forward. She held her breath for as long as she could, then pulled back. She coughed and choked trying to dispel the foul odor. She felt the bile rise up into her throat.
“Du...du...do it!” Richie shouted. She shook her head violently and began to retch.
Stein quickly saw that she would vomit if he pushed her further. “Never mind,” he called out. “I think she’s apologized enough, Vinnie. Take her. Fuck her good.”
She felt Vinnie’s huge prick push into her cunt, stretching it painfully. He began to move in and out with slow steady strokes. She moved to his rhythm, immediately feeling her orgasm beginning to build.
Stein called out to her, “Tell us who you belong to.”
Vinnie was slamming into her now, quick hard strokes. She lifted her head. “Uh...uh...I belong to Vinnie,” she gasped.
Vinnie pulled his cock out and teased her clit with its tip. She tried to push back, but he smacked her ass hard.
Stein nodded and signaled to Vinnie who quickly drove his prick into her. He held her hips and fucked her like a wild animal, grunting and slamming his balls against her ass. Richie, slobbering and stuttering, had turned around, his stiff cock inches from Kathy’s face... Stein had rolled his chair closer to the bed. “Suck, Mrs. Ryan, suck it,” he hissed.
The horrible stench and the bitter, sour taste of him was unbearable. But at the same time, she felt Vinnie’s cock pounding into her and knew that she was on the edge of a shattering orgasm. She was aware, too, that Vinnie was ready to cum. “Yeah!” he cried, “do it, you fuckin’ bitch! Suck him off!”
She took Richie’s filthy cock into her mouth. A moment later, Vinnie’s thick, hot jism filled her cunt. She came violently. She moaned and tried to milk Vinnie’s cock, tried to hold him in her as long as she could. Finally, she felt him slide out. In a moment he was standing beside the bed. He had grabbed her hair again and pulled her over to his crotch. She thought he wanted her to suck the last drops of cum from his cock. She leaned forward and opened her mouth. Roughly, he flung her back on the bed and stepped away.
She turned away from him. She took up a handful of the soiled sheet and rubbed it fiercely over her lips, sobbing and spitting. Vaguely she felt Richie moving around behind her. “No...” she whispered hoarsely, “no more...no more.”
Stein leaned close to her. “He’s the one you need, Mrs. Ryan. Richie’s the only one who can give you what you need.” She lay there shaking her head, crying quietly. Richie, pulling at his stiff cock, looked at Stein who gestured for him to wait a moment. Stein touched Kathy’s arm, “You know I’m right,” he said. “I think you want to get on your knees and put your head on the pillow. I think you want to spread your cheeks. I think there’s something you want to ask Richie to do for you.”
Slowly and painfully, she rolled over. Not looking at Stein, she lay her head on the pillow. She got to her knees. Richie stood behind her on the bed. “Higher,” Stein ordered. She moved her knees forward and lifted her ass. “Yes,” Stein said, “now, spread for your new lover and ask.”
Kathy reached back and parted her ass cheeks. “Please, Richie,” she whispered, “Fuck my ass.”
She never gave her keys to Vinnie. She never became his private whore. Two weeks later she was the legally married wife of Richie, his imbecile son.
But now, on the night before her trial, the repressed memory had risen to the surface. There, in Stein’s quarters, without Miko’s words or drugs, she had almost performed the vile act. She had come very close. Perhaps tomorrow she might be able to do it. Might be able to do what she was certain Abul would demand.
See author’s note at the end of the novel*
Chapter Twelve – The Trial
On the day of the trial, after the ritual with the candle and bowl, Kathy was made to take a sedative. She slept until evening. Miko shook her awake. During the preparations, very few words were spoken. Kathy was given an enema, then a hot bath after which Mi Jong dried her and led her to the bed. Once more, her body was vigorously rubbed with the white oil, her nails painted, and her hair brushed until it shone. The make-up they applied this time was, except for her eyes, understated. A rosy pink lipstick and gloss coated her lips. Kathy was surprised to see the gown they brought her. It was made of fine white cotton. It had capped sleeves, a modest scooped neckline, and hung to the floor. There were no openings, no slits, nothing cheaply provocative. Although it was simply cut, it clung tightly to her body, and the thin material showed that under it she was naked. In a curious way, it seemed to reveal her body more than anything she had been required to wear since her arrival. The gown accented the firm roundness of her buttocks and the high swell of her breasts. Against the thin white cloth, the pink of her pointed nipples was visible. She walked across to the full-length mirror and could see the shadowy outline of her legs under the gown. Viewing her reflection in the mirror, she said, “I look sacrificial.”
Miko nodded, “Madam Khe pick gown. She decide how you dress this time. Not Abul.”
“Yes, of course, I should have known.” For the past hour Kathy had put from her mind all thought of the trial. Now, however, the prospect of it and the horrible consequences of failure filled her with dread. She turned away from the mirror and sat at the make-up table. “Miko,” she looked directly at the solemn Japanese, “I’m frightened, scared to death. I can’t do it. I can’t go out there.”
“Must do,” Miko said sternly. “Many important people come long way. Mr. Satomi must not lose respect. You will go if we have to drag you.”
“Please, Miko,” Kathy’s voice shook, “get your needles. Inject me with the drug. Maybe then...”
“No drugs,” Miko cut her off. “Madam Khe’s strict orders. No drugs.”
“What about the cap, then? The brushes?” Kathy pleaded.
“No brushes either. No nothing.”
The wall speakers crackled and a voice spoke from them, “The guests have assembled. Bring the woman to the reception hall.” Kathy looked down at her bare feet.
“No shoes,” Miko said. Kathy stood. Miko and Mi Jong took their places on either side of her. Once more, the three women made their way down the long hall to the huge wooden doors of the reception room.
Even though Kathy had anticipated something special, she was not prepared for what greeted her as the doors swung open. At the far end of the room a bank of upholstered chairs had been arranged on three carpeted risers. The men wore tuxedos. The women accompanying them were dressed in expensive designer gowns. Black velvet masks covered the eyes of each member of the audience. It seemed that they had all been talking before the doors opened, but as Kathy, Miko, and Mi Jong entered they became silent. Kathy noticed the women, after looking in her direction, whisper to each other.
Sitting at the center of the first row was Mr. Satomi. To his right sat what appeared to be a small woman who was completely covered with a black caftan that draped over the arms of her chair and hung to the floor. Her eyes were hidden behind a mask, the lower part of her face and her hair were covered with the caftan. Next to her, Kathy recognized Madam Khe. To Mr. Satomi’s left, dressed in a white caftan and wearing an elaborate turban in addition to his mask, was Abul. Standing at the far side of the front row next to his Master, Narimov, was Swart, the black dwarf. His massive chest was partially covered by a black leather vest. His tight leather pants were zipped up. He, too, wore a mask. In his right hand, he held the familiar leather whip.
A stage had been erected so that it faced the audience. From overhead pipes hung several stage lights as well as ropes on pulleys. In the half-light she caught the glint of metal studded cuffs dangling at the ends of the ropes. The floor of the stage was covered with a thick white carpet.
Miko and Mi Jong led Kathy to the steps at the back of the stage and, after mounting them with her, Miko whispered, “Go to the front and kneel. Abul will tell you what you are to do.” Kathy noticed to one side near the back, the folding screen had been set up. Behind the screen was a stool and a small table with a mirror.
Except for the circle of light that followed her from above, the room was now in complete darkness. The striking beauty of this young woman, obviously naked under the thin cotton gown, caused a murmur of appreciation in the audience. They leaned forward to observe her more closely. A few feet from the edge of the stage, Kathy gracefully got to her knees and bowed her head. Her mouth had gone dry. Inside, she felt empty and sick. She fought to keep her hands from trembling as she folded them in her lap.
“Tell us who you are and where you are from,” Abul’s voice sent the old terrifying chill through her.
She was silent for a moment, trying to gather the composure to answer without revealing how frightened she was. “My name,” she said, “is Katherine Ryan. I am an American.”
“A wealthy American widow,” Abul added, “with a degree from a fine American university. Isn’t that right?” He never tired of showing that he had complete power over a woman who was rich, cultured, intelligent, and American.
“Yes. My...my husband died recently. We were well off. I do have a degree from a good university.”
“And you chose to leave your country. You chose to give up your big house and your soft life there? These were free choices, were they not?”
“Yes. As you have said, I willingly left that life. My choices were freely made.”
“Explain to us, Mrs. Ryan, exactly why you are here on your knees before us tonight.”
Again, Kathy paused before answering, trying to select the words he wanted to hear her speak. “Quite by accident,” she began, “I met a man in America who I came to realize was the only man who knew what my purpose in life should be and knew where I belong.”
“Who is this perceptive man, Mrs. Ryan? What did you learn from him about your purpose in life? And where did he say you belong?”
“The man is you, Master Abul. You have taught me that my only reason for being is to serve. My place is to kneel at your feet.”
“That is an acceptable answer, Mrs. Ryan. Still, it is nothing but words. Perhaps you can tell us how you hope to demonstrate your respect...your devotion?”
Kathy glanced up at the dark figure of Mr. Satomi, then quickly lowered her eyes. “Before these honored guests I will do whatever you wish in order to show that my devotion to you is complete and unconditional.”