Marriage (20 page)

Abul patted Kim’s ass. “It’s my idea. I want to see her make you cum.”

“OK,” Kim said, “but later you fuck me, yes?”

“Later. Now get down on the floor right here at my feet and spread your legs.”

Kim parted her robe and lay down and spread her legs. Kathy knelt between them and with one hand parted the shaved pussy lips. As she leaned toward the glistening pink slit, Kim grabbed her hair forcing her to look up. “I saved little bit of piss for you. Ask for it?”

“Yes, please, Miss Kim...I...I would like you to...to...give me what you have saved.” Kathy whispered. As she closed her mouth over the girl’s cunt, Kim squeezed her bladder and Kathy felt in her mouth a hot spurt of piss. With both hands Kim held Kathy’s head tightly against her pussy. “Swallow it,” she demanded. Kathy swallowed. “You like my piss?”

“Yes,” Kathy whispered.

“Now,” Kim said, “you gonna make love to my cunt?”

“Yes, Miss Kim. I want to...I want very much to make love to your cunt.”

For a long time Kathy licked, sometimes sucking on the tiny round nubbin of the Asian girl’s clitoris. Kim drew her legs up and back “Lick my asshole, Mrs. Ryan,” she demanded. She spread the cheeks of her ass. The brown puckered hole she presented to Kathy glistened. Kathy began by circling the ring with the tip of her tongue. Then, covering the hole with her lips, she licked it with the flat of her tongue. Kim groaned, “That’s good, you do that good.” She kept Kathy licking for several minutes before lowering her legs. “Look up,” she said. Kathy’s mouth was wet, her breath coming quickly. Kim grinned at her, “I think you like how my asshole taste, Mrs. Ryan, yes?” Kathy bowed her head refusing to answer. Angrily, Kim leaned forward and twisted Kathy’s nipple, “I ask again,” she hissed, “you like the taste of mistress’s asshole?”

Kathy winced as the girl’s fingernails dug into her breast, “Yes, Mistress Kim, I liked the taste...the taste of your asshole.”

“You gonna taste it every day from now on.” She drew Kathy’s head between her legs again. “Now, American bitch, make love to my cunt.” Once more Kathy sucked the Asian girl’s clitoris into her mouth and flicked her tongue over it. In a few moments Kim began to lift her hips and speak quickly in Vietnamese. She grabbed Kathy’s hair and ground her pussy against Kathy’s mouth. Then she came in rapid twisting and bucking movements.

“You have to admit,” Abul said, “that Mrs. Ryan learned well. She spent a lot of time at the Facility with her head between the legs and the ass cheeks of that Chinese bitch.”

Kim got to her feet. “That’s all she good for, lickin' assholes and suckin' cunt.”

Kathy was exhausted. She still felt the throbbing ache from the whipping. The taste of Kim’s secretions and piss was in her mouth. Slowly, she got to her knees before them.

“You’re finished for tonight,” Abul said.

“One more thing,” Kim glared down at Kathy. “Respect...me and Abul.”

Kathy lowered her head to their feet. Softly she touched her lips to Kim’s polished toes then to the black ragged toenails of Abul’s dirty feet. Abul nodded and gestured toward the hall. Kathy crawled away from them.

In her room she went quickly to brush her teeth then, sitting on the bed exhausted, she noticed someone had placed a photograph on her bedside table. It was of Gruber’s nephew, Fredrick. On his left stood the mindless black man, James. On his right sat the huge dog. Under the picture frame was a piece of paper with an arrow pointing toward the dog and the words, “Your next lover?” Kathy squeezed her eyes shut and began to tremble uncontrollably. Blindly she reached forward and turned the photograph to the wall. She lay back on the bed and after several minutes her body stopped shaking.

‘I can’t be given to that psychopath,’
she thought.
‘I’d rather die.’
Everything depended on persuading Abul to marry her. But he had his little slut now and there seemed to be no reason for him to agree to take Kathy as his wife. The thought of being the wife of Abul brought tears to her eyes. Gruber and Fredrick terrified her, but she hated her husband’s murderer with every fiber of her body. To marry him was unthinkable, but she couldn’t be sent to Gruber and Fredrick. Abul had agreed to see her privately tomorrow. Somehow she had to show him that it would be in his best interest to take her as his wife.

She recalled how his cock, which had been limp, started to rise when she knelt before him. During her beating, it had become rock hard. Perhaps the trashy Vietnamese girl didn’t have such a hold on him after all. Kim was his social equal. He could have all the Kims he wanted jumping through any hoops he held up. Abul, she knew, was ego driven. She remembered how often she had to describe before his friends how well educated she was and how wealthy, and what kind of life she’d enjoyed with her husband. To make Kathy kiss his feet, suck his cock, beg him to fuck her ass fed his ego more than anything else could. That’s why his cock stiffened in her presence. His power over a woman he considered superior to himself aroused him.

Tomorrow she would subtly make him aware of the vast difference between herself and Kim. She would find a way to remind him again of her education and social status. Then, no matter what it took, she would show him that he was her master, that she would gratefully submit to whatever demands he made of her.

She fell into a deep and troubled sleep.

Chapter Nine
– Interview

Miko and Mi Jong awakened Kathy early the next morning. They brought the healing ointment for the welts that still marked her ass. She looked up at them, then rolled over. The strong, familiar hands of the two women massaged the salve into her ass cheeks. “Abul don’t want whip marks to show,” Miko said. Before they had finished, the lingering pain had all but gone. “Sit up now,” Miko slapped Kathy’s ass. Still naked, Kathy sat on the edge of the bed. Mi Jong handed her a bowl of fragrant soup.

“Thank you both,” she forced a slight smile at the impassive women.

“Soup make you sleep. We come back,” Miko said.

Kathy slept until late afternoon. A disturbing dream troubled her sleep. In it, Doctor Gruber sat at a piano. He played the same grating notes over and over. They sounded vaguely familiar. At first she tried not to hear them and turned away from Gruber. But after a while she felt compelled to turn back and move toward him, drawn by the sound of the discordant notes. She awoke and found herself trembling. Quickly, she put the dream out of her mind, remembering that she’d managed to have Abul promise to meet with her alone. Of course, Abul’s promises meant nothing. He might not see her. Just that sad fact seemed impossible. She was Kathy Ryan. Abul was nothing but an ugly, sadistic Pakistani or Afghani or whatever the hell he was. Twice she had thrown him out. Now, here in her own house, she had to beg for an audience with him and hope he would grant it. Quickly she showered, and rubbed her body with the perfumed oil. Sitting down at the dressing table and looking at the array of cosmetics, she wasn’t sure whether he would prefer conventional, theatrical, or whorish.

She decided on conventional. She wanted to remind him that she was a well-bred, educated, refined woman...not some vulgar slut like Kim. She had to plant in his Neanderthal mind the idea that by marrying her, his own image would appear stronger, he would gain more respect. This man was centered on two things; ego and power. She had to make him see she could satisfy both. Rather than go to Abul as his submissive whore, she would approach him as the rich and cultured Mrs. Ryan whose only desire was to become his wife. ‘The wife of Abul...the wife of the coward who murdered her dear husband’, she gripped the edge of the table and forced back the tears. She took several deep breaths, trying to drive from her mind the thought that she intended to ask Abul to marry her. After she’d gained control, she applied a light mascara to her eyelids then chose for her mouth a subdued red lipstick with a thin coating of gloss. As she finished brushing her hair, Miko entered with an armload of clothes.

“Abul say you to wear this stuff.” She placed the clothes on the bed. Kathy was surprised to see a dark green wool skirt, a rust colored silk blouse that was non-transparent, a black bra, and black bikini panties. On the floor Miko placed a pair of black leather pumps with a four-inch heel. It was the kind of outfit she would normally wear. The only inconstancy, since it was February, was the lack of stockings.

Kathy looked at Miko, “Why?” she asked, gesturing at the clothes.

“Abul say this is interview. Dress for it.”

Kathy was pleased to see that her breasts were so high and firm she didn’t really need a bra, but she put it on anyway. She’d not worn panties for such a long time, she found them uncomfortably confining. Her decision to apply conservative make-up had been the right one. She looked in the mirror and saw the same woman who, eight months ago, might be going off on a shopping spree.

She’d not been alone with Abul since the night she was summoned to his quarters at the Facility. That had turned into a disaster. She reminded herself of the plans Fredrick had for her if she failed to marry Abul. With a pounding heart and a sinking feeling in her stomach, she ascended the stairs and walked down the hall to what had been Jeff’s den. She knocked lightly on the closed door.

“Come,” Abul called. His voice never failed to send a clutch of fear through her. She hadn’t been in Jeff’s room since he died. It was just as he’d left it, except that behind his mahogany desk sat the frightful Abul. She noticed that he was wearing one of Jeff’s dark shirts and Jeff’s favorite pale yellow sweater. Abul saw her frown. “Except for his shoes which are too small, your late husband’s clothes fit me well, don’t you think?”

Kathy nodded, “Yes,” she said, “they fit well.”

“Sit, Mrs. Ryan,” Abul pointed to a chair facing the desk. Being in this room brought her close to Jeff and close to tears. There were his books, his computer, his and her framed degrees on the walls. In the far corner were his tennis racquet and golf clubs. On the desk, she knew, was their favorite wedding picture taken on the steps of the church just after the wedding, both of them laughing and waving. She swallowed hard and sat opposite Abul who stared at her with contempt. “You wished to see Abul alone. I’ve permitted it.”

Kathy folded her hands in her lap and bowed her head. She wanted to stand up and scream at him,
‘You arrogant, low-life, murdering thug, get out of my husband’s chair and get out of my house!’
Subduing her rage, she lifted her head and began the speech she’d been rehearsing, “As we both know, I’m to be given to Doctor Gruber and his nephew unless you are willing to take me as your wife.” Abul allowed himself a smile and nodded. Kathy looked away for a moment, then continued, “It is true that in our relationship I have occasionally, much to my regret, defied you. For that I am deeply and sincerely sorry. It is true that I have submitted to your demands only because I was drugged, or because I was whipped, or because I was trying to protect my sister-in-law. It is also true, as you have said, that my performance at the trial was an act, a pretense. I have known from the beginning that you despise me. I think you have also known that I cannot feel anything for the man who murdered my husband but hatred.” She saw Abul’s face color with anger and he seemed ready to shout and perhaps strike her.

Quickly, she went on, “What I have said is the truth, Abul, and we both know it. Please let me finish.” He nodded and she continued, “Surely, during the last few months you have seen that I am a strong woman and an intelligent one. You have seen how well I can pretend.” She paused and shifted in her chair, “You have also come to know my body. You have observed and participated in my training and have experienced the pleasure I am able to give. At the Facility I have also learned how to make myself look desirable to men, how to make all men want me. At the Facility you’ve witnessed many times that I am able to make men envious of the man who has me. Those men wished to be you because they saw I was your woman.” Although Abul tried to look indifferent, she knew she’d struck a responsive chord.

He leaned back. “Yes, Mrs. Ryan, under my direction at the Facility, you have become a useful woman. But you have not yet learned your place.”

Of course, he could never admit that it was Madam Khe who had orchestrated her training. “Even if I haven’t yet learned what you call ‘my place’, I can make it seem to others that I have. Mr. Satomi, himself, thought my spirit had been broken.” She paused. “It is also possible that, in time, you will break my spirit, or that I may truly begin to see that...that you have been right about my place all along.” They sat in silence for several moments. She knew Abul was thinking about what she’d said, and she suspected he was surprised by her boldness and honesty.

“Get to the point,” he grunted.

“If you agree to marry me, I promise on my husband’s grave, to continue the act. I promise in private and in public to be as submissive as I was during the trial. Everyone will know that Abul has married a rich, well-educated, strong-willed, American woman who wants nothing more than to please him. In public and in private I promise to do whatever you order me to do. I will show with my words and in my actions that you are my master and that I am your devoted and obedient wife.”

“What if you go back on your promise? What if this superior attitude you have begins to show through the pretense?”

Kathy had hoped this question wouldn’t come up. “I realize the marriage ceremony will not mean anything to you even though its sanctification by the Church means much to me. I was raised as a Catholic as was Jeff. For me, the marriage vows are sacred. No matter how much I might hate you, no matter how much the things you require me to do are against my nature and violate all that I know to be decent, I will honor the vows I take. I will think of myself as your wife. For that is what, in the eyes of the Church and in the eyes of God, I will be.”