Marriage (10 page)

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. “The 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?”

Tears formed in the corners of Kathy’s eyes. “Yes,” she said.

“As you know, all orders are to be obeyed immediately. Do not hesitate. Remember to walk with your shoulders back and take small steps.” Kathy felt her stomach churning. The powerful salve was taking effect. “You want the Doctor to be pleased with you...to be very pleased with you. Is that not correct?”

“Yes,” Kathy said, “I want the Doctor to be pleased with me.”

“And if he is not, you know what will happen to this Mary Margaret you care about?”

“I know.”

From somewhere down the hall came the sound of three evenly struck chimes. “They are ready.” Ms. Foster said. She clipped a silver chain to the “D-ring on the front of Kathy’s collar. Kathy rose and, naked except for the collar and heels, walked behind the older woman.

As they moved slowly down the stairs, then toward the heavy double doors at the end of the main hall, Kathy recalled how often she’d made a similar journey at the Facility, following behind a woman who led her on a silver chain. This, however, was not at all the same. At the Facility she knew she would be displayed and humiliated by Abul and his boorish, ignorant friends. No matter what they did to her, she knew they were not her equal. She suspected they knew it, too. The guests awaiting her here were different. Doctor Gruber was brilliant . She was certain the others at this gathering would be rich and cultured. They were, at the very least, her social and intellectual equals. Her protective shield of superiority was gone. She felt their scrutiny of her body would be much sharper...more critical. She thought their abuse would not be as primitive as Abul’s, but they would be even more cruel and quiet rightly look upon her as they would one of the Doctor’s prize sculptures. She was a beautiful, mute, animated object brought here for their amusement.

The oak doors swung inward as she and Ms. Foster approached. The room was smaller than she’d anticipated. It was lit by the flames of gas sconces which were spaced evenly along the stonewalls. The polished black marble floor reflected their light. In the center of the room a bright spotlight illuminated a black pedestal. A spreader bar about three feet in length extended from both sides of its base. Attached to each end of the bar was a black leather ankle cuff. The pedestal itself was thirty inches high. A circular ebony disk about twelve inches in diameter formed its top. In the center of this was a two-inch hole. Three eyebolts were embedded in the pedestal: one on each side and one in the back.

Lining Kathy’s path to the illuminated pedestal were the guests. She saw that they were formally dressed: the men in tuxedos and the women in expensive designer gowns. Unlike her trial at the Facility, none of the guests here wore masks. They smiled and murmured among themselves as she passed.

The firelight flickered over her naked body and glinted off the silver chain attached to her collar. Ms. Foster slowed her pace. Kathy took very small steps, her head held high by the wide collar, her shoulders back, the pencil thin heels clicking against the marble floor. Kathy looked neither right nor left, but stared at the back of Ms. Foster’s head. When they reached the pedestal, Ms. Foster indicated to Kathy that she was to sit on it, facing the guests who formed a circle around her.

Kathy felt a clutch of fear when she noticed the hole in the center of the platform on which Ms. Foster was placing her. Short chains were attached to the “D” rings in her collar and clipped to the three eyebolts on the pedestal. Together, these chains prevented her from rising. Ms. Foster then knelt in front of the pedestal and, after adjusting the spreader bar so that Kathy’s feet were several inches off the floor, clamped it to the pedestal. Then, she pushed Kathy’s knees wide apart and buckled the cuffs around her ankles. This served to part Kathy’s vaginal lips so that she was completely open to the appreciative eyes of the guests.

Ms. Foster stood and signaled to someone in the back of the room. A screen came down from the ceiling, covering the entire back wall. It was then Kathy noticed a remote digital camera on a bracket near the ceiling. It pointed down at her. After a moment, the screen filled with a sharply defined color image of the beautiful nude woman chained to the black pedestal. Ms. Foster gestured toward the person who had lowered the screen. Immediately, a powerful zoom lens focused on Kathy’s open vagina. The guests had turned toward the screen and expressed their approval with polite applause. “As you can see,” Ms. Foster announced, “the woman has already begun to secrete.” The guests chuckled. Kathy felt her cheeks burn with shame. Ms. Foster moved to stand behind the pedestal while the camera continued to focus on Kathy’s pink labial lips.

On the floor behind the pedestal were two coils of thick nylon rope. Ms. Foster pulled Kathy’s arms back and up. Then she instructed her to grab her own right elbow with her left hand and her left elbow with her right hand. When Kathy had done this, Ms. Foster carefully wrapped the length of rope around Kathy’s forearms. She coiled the rope neatly and tight but not tight enough to cut off circulation.

Ms. Foster draped the second length of rope over Kathy’s neck so that the loop hung between her breasts. Then, after wrapping the two ends tightly around Kathy’s waist she tied them off and brought them up and through the loop. She drew them down hard and pulled them behind Kathy’s waist where she tied them to the rope that circled her waist. This served to separate Kathy’s breasts slightly and to force her shoulders back and her breasts forward.

The cameras whirred. On the huge screen, Kathy saw herself as the guests were seeing her, seated rigidly on the black pedestal, bathed in a pool of light, her pale body held immobile, her arms bound behind her back, the ropes tight against her shoulders, pulling them back, her breasts thrust forward, the pink nipples engorged. Her legs were spread painfully wide, her feet off the floor, her ankles cuffed to the iron bar, her hairless cunt spread and glistening. The wide collar kept her head high, forcing her to look straight ahead. Three tight chains ran from the rings in her collar to the eyebolts in the pedestal. She was exactly what Doctor Gruber had decided she should be: a thing, incapable of movement...an exquisitely beautiful object to be admired and enjoyed by his guests.

From somewhere outside her field of view, she heard the flat nasal voice of the Doctor addressing his guests. “I think, dear friends, you must agree she is lovely.” There was a polite round of applause. “She is on loan from our benefactor, Mr. Satomi. He has sent her here for your amusement.” Kathy felt the color rise to her cheeks. Gruber stepped into Kathy’s line of vision. She tried to avert her eyes but couldn’t. The tall skeleton-like figure gestured toward her, “Although what you see here is indeed a wealthy, highly educated, quite sophisticated woman, for our purposes tonight she is simply a thing.” He paused, “She’s our plaything.” There was a sprinkling of laughter. “We should think of her as a toy...a pretty little doll, perhaps? We might give her a name?” He looked around at the guests. “Suggestions?”

“Barbie,” a woman called out.

“Hardly original, but quite appropriate, I think.” Gruber smiled. “Barbie it is.” He stepped closer to Kathy and half turned toward his audience, “Since she is ours to play with, it might be better if we were to refer to her as “it”. That should aid us in thinking of her as an object...as our little Barbie toy.”

Kathy felt a terrible hollowness in her stomach. Even in her most abject submission to Abul, she had never been objectified like this. At the Facility she could move and speak. She was called by her name. She had been forced to offer herself to Abul and his friends, but she did so as a woman. They took her in ways that women are taken. But here, Gruber had succeeded where Abul and Madam Khe had failed. He had expunged her humanity, thereby reducing her to nothing.

“Does, Barbie speak?” a voice that seemed to come from a child asked.

“Unfortunately, this one doesn’t. However, she can nod and shake her head slightly, although to do so is a bit painful. If you put questions to her that can be answered with a nod for ‘yes’ and a shake for ‘no’, I’m sure she will respond even if it causes her some discomfort.”

“Does the Barbie cry?” a man asked.

“Oh, yes,” Gruber said, “if it is spanked.”

“But it’s sitting down,” a high-pitched woman called out.

“True, but we anticipated that problem and we certainly knew that some of you would enjoy seeing the Barbie’s tears.” He gestured to someone standing the shadows at Kathy’s left. A waiter pushed a rolling table forward into the circle of light. On it, in a neat line, was a variety of short paddles and whips. There were also metal devices Kathy did not recognize. The guests murmured approvingly. Gruber crossed to stand next to the table. “Here, ladies and gentlemen,” he waved his hand over the table, “are some other toys that came in the box with the Barbie toy. I suggest before playing with them, you get acquainted with your doll. Touch it, fondle it, stroke its face, muss its hair, put your fingers in its mouth. I promise it won’t bite.”