The Facility

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The Facility Page 16

by Charles Arnold

“I wish to clean your feet with my mouth,” she said softly and looked down again. Once more the men laughed derisively.

  “Very well, Mrs. Ryan, but I want to see the devotion in your eyes. I want to feel your devotion on your lips, your tongue.”

  She raised her head and closed her eyes for a moment willing herself to suppress the mounting fury of her anger. She licked her lips. “Please,” she said. “Please, master, grant me permission to…to…show my devotion.” He nodded.

  Tentatively, she lowered her head to his bare feet. He tilted his toes up from the hassock. They were long and twisted. Wiry black hairs grew from them. The fetid smell of sweat and dirt was almost palpable. Placing her small hands flat on either side of his right foot, she parted her lips and slowly took his big toe into her mouth. She began to gag, but forced herself to continue. With her tongue she felt along the sharp edge of his long toenail and then under it where she tasted the caked filth. Aware of the cameras next to her, she lifted her eyes to look at him as she worked to loosen the grit with her tongue. Pausing so that the men could observe, she swallowed. Then, pushing her tongue further under his nail she dislodged and sucked out the grime that had accumulated there. Again, she looked up at the men and swallowed.

  “Jesus! That’s fucking sick,” Zubair said, turning away.

  As the others watched, she continued to kneel at his feet. The two men moved closer. Soon, Zubair joined them. Slowly she sucked his vile toes, cleaning with her tongue under the ragged toenails, her mouth filling with saliva, swallowing. They could see how tightly she held each toe between her lips and they were aware of the movement of her tongue as she licked and sucked at the black scum under his toenails... Then, pausing once more, she looked up at him and said, “Thank you, Master.” She saw that he was waiting for her to say more. “I...I...worship your feet.”

  “I think you can do better than that, Mrs. Ryan. I would like to hear you say, ‘Thank you, Master. I am grateful to be permitted to suck the toes of the brave and powerful man who murdered my weak husband’. Say it, Mrs. Ryan,” he ordered.

  Staring at his horrible toes that were wet from her mouth and marked with traces of her lipstick she repeated his words, “I thank you, Master. I am grateful to be permitted to suck the toes of the brave and powerful man who...who murdered my...my weak husband.”

  Abul glared at her. “Very well, but we can all see that you have not completed your task,” he sneered.

  Kathy lowered her head once more and, making a small whimpering sound, she placed the thumb and index finger of her right hand on his big toe and the thumb and index finger of her left hand on his second toe. She spread the toes and, extending her tongue, licked at the putrid grime between them. The hot sour taste and the foul smell of the vile matter sickened her. Yet she continued to move from one to the other until she had licked the filth from between each of his toes. She could feel the wet stickiness seep from her pussy.

  “So, the rich American woman is so glad to be rid of her husband she comes halfway around the world to kneel at the feet of Abul. Here, she sucks his toes and cleans between them with her little tongue. Did you like the taste of the black honey you found there? Mrs. Ryan, tell us?”

  The words of Madam Khe came back to her. This was to be a contest. If she lost it, she would belong to Abul. After burning Jeff’s photograph, she had determined not to lose. Abul’s boasting about having killed Jeff had almost provoked her to explode. She could not let him win now. “Yes, Master, I...I...I would...I would like more.”

  She reached forward and taking his right foot in her small hands, she bent over it rubbing her cheek against the calloused bottom of his sole. Then, turning slightly and sliding the tip of her tongue out from between her parted lips, she licked beneath his dirty toes. Continuing to look up at him, she closed her mouth over his big toe once more and sucked. After a few moments, she withdrew it from her mouth. She leaned forward and, still cradling his foot between her small hands, she placed the hard, crusted sole on her right breast. It felt like rough sandpaper against her swollen nipple. She ran the tip of her index finger across the sharp edges of his toenails. Then, holding his foot with both hands, she pressed it tight against her. Looking up at him, she whispered, “Please, Master Abul.”

  Viciously, he clenched his toes cutting her nipple and drawing blood with the ragged edges of his toenails. She winced and drew in a deep breath. “Yes,” she said, “you know what I need.” Still holding his foot to her breast, she bent her head and gently kissed the tip of each toe. He glanced at the cameras on either side of the hassock and the anger flashed in his eyes. Abruptly he put both of his feet on the floor and kicked the hassock out of the way.

  Miko and Mi Jong had set up the folding screen. Abul signaled to them. They came forward and led Kathy back to the other side of the screen. “She will return, my friends,” Abul said in a loud voice, “and you will have her.”

  Miko permitted Kathy to rinse her mouth with a strong antiseptic and allowed her to sit quietly for several minutes. Kathy realized that Abul had almost succeeded when he’d required her to burn Jeff’s photograph. She reminded herself once more of the consequences of failure. How had she come to this, she thought. She’d just been kneeling before the repulsive coward who was responsible for her husband’s death. She had sucked his filthy toes and tasted the vile matter between them. She had pressed the black calloused sole of his foot against her bare breast and begged him to cut her with his ragged toenails. ‘If the Devil exists’, she thought, ‘he would have Abul’s face, his body, his hands and his horrible feet. Abul was pure evil.’ She closed her eyes and said to herself, ‘I belong to the man who murdered my husband. I belong to Abul. I am now his woman.’ A tremor coursed through her body. Whether it was caused by hatred, fear, loathing or something she refused to name, she wasn’t sure.

  Now, she would put on fresh lipstick, eye shadow, and a cream to eradicate traces of the tears from her cheeks. She would try to make herself as sexually desirable as she could for the mindless drunken brutes who were waiting for her. In a very little while, her face would be pressed against the floor; she would lift her naked buttocks and reach back to spread her ass cheeks. She would invite each of them to shove their dirty pricks into her anal opening. My God, she thought again, how had it come to this?

  It took only a few moments for the two women to brush Kathy’s hair and reapply the make-up. They buttoned her jacket and walked on either side of her. Kathy once more looked like a stunningly beautiful, wealthy, sophisticated, American woman.

  Her high heels clicked on the stone floor. The men stared at her, grinning. When the three women reached the carpet, Miko and Mi Jong retreated to the back wall. Kathy stood waiting, her head bowed. She hadn’t noticed before, but beside each man’s chair was a cooler containing ice and beer. Apparently, the men had been drinking all day and now were beginning again.

  “Here she is, my friends,” Abul said, “the pretty young widow. She’s anxious to serve you. But she’s not permitted to cum. She cums as soon as she feels a prick in her cunt, so you can’t fuck her cunt. Her mouth belongs to me. I’ll have her suck you off some other time, but not today. Tell them, Mrs. Ryan, tell them where you’ve made yourself ready for their Afghani pricks.”

  Kathy raised her head and looked directly at the three big men. “I...I...I’ve prepared my...my anus for you,” she said, the color rising to the cheeks.

  “She has a degree from a university,” Abul said. “She likes to show off, to act superior. She’s not fully aware of her place yet or of her title. What is your title, Mrs. Ryan?”

  “I...I... am your woman...I am Abul’s American whore.”

  “That’s right. Whores don’t say ‘anus’. Mrs. Ryan means she wants you to fuck her ass. You can rape it or you can just stick your cock as far up her hole as it will go, and she will milk it for you. She’s been trained to get men off in her ass without them having to do anything but put their cocks into it. Isn’t that right, Mrs.
Ryan?”

  “Yes, I... I have been trained to do that.”

  “That’s an accomplishment you can be more proud of than a useless degree from a fancy university. What are you truly proud of, Mrs. Ryan?”

  She looked first at Abul then at his friends, “I am truly proud of the fact that I have been trained to...to...service men as Abul has said, by...by causing them to ejaculate,” she glanced at Abul then corrected herself, “by causing them to cum...to cum... in my ass without any effort on their part.”

  Amel crooked a finger at her motioning for her to stand before him.

  Fearfully, she crossed to him. He towered above her and smelled of sweat. He pointed to the single button on her jacket. She opened it. Immediately he put his huge rough hands on her breasts and squeezed them hard.

  She started to pull away but Zubair had moved behind her. He placed his hands on her hips. She felt his stiff cock against the small of her back. Davodi had zipped down the fly of his fatigues and drawn out his cock.

  Zubair pulled her tight against him, “You want it, American bitch, you love to feel our pricks up your American ass?” Zubair asked.

  “Yes,” she answered. Abul snapped his fingers. “I…I… mean, yes I want it. I want to feel your pricks in…in…my…my American ass.”

  “I am first,” Amel growled, “first to fuck her ass.” Zubair and Davodi stepped aside. With trembling hands, Kathy removed her skirt. She wore only the tailored jacket, the pearl necklace, and her heels. She got to her knees and lowered her head to the floor. Slowly, just as she’d been trained, she raised her buttocks and, reaching back, spread her ass cheeks.

  “She got a red ring around her tight hole!” Zubair shouted. “That’s so you can find where to shove your prick, Amel!” he laughed.

  Abul held up his hand, “Tell my friend the brave soldier, Amel, that you want him, that you want him to take you. Ask him to fuck your ass. Ask him to fuck it hard,” he demanded.

  Kathy could feel the tip of the filthy Afghani’s cock at her opening. “My master, Abul, says you are a brave soldier. I want you to take me. I...I... would like you to...to please fuck my ass. Fuck it hard.”

  “American bitch!” Amel grunted as he drove his cock into her. She was relieved to feel that, for a big man, his cock was neither long nor thick. She began to squeeze him in her anal passage, but he was intent on violent rape. Fiercely grabbing her hips, he drove his cock in and out until, less than a minute later, he came.

  Davodi pushed Zubair aside, “Mine,” he said.

  “Tell him you love soldiers like us. That you love our hot pricks. Tell him what you are,” Abul ordered.

  She lifted her head but kept her ass cheeks parted. “As you have seen, I am Abul’s American whore. I am glad he has given me to you because I love the hot pricks of brave, rough soldiers.”

  She easily accommodated his cock, which seemed even smaller than Amel’s. Like his friend he was intent on raping her ass and came quickly. The copious amounts of thick cum both men pumped into her began to trickle down her thighs and onto the backs of her legs.

  “Thank them!” Abul shouted. “Tell them what you think about dark foreign cock compared to the pale pink cock of your weak husband.”

  From behind her, Zubair yanked her hair forcing her to her knees. The two brutes who had raped her moved around to stand in front of her, their limp pricks were still dripping cum. Kathy’s nipples were stiff. They could see the secretions oozing from her cunt and the milky gobs of cum on her thighs and the backs of her legs. She looked up into their ugly drunken faces. “Thank you for taking me…for fucking me. I feel honored to serve you. I will do anything you wish.” Amel swore and spit on her breast. Kathy flinched but did not move.

  “Lick it off,” Abul ordered. Kathy hesitated. “Whores do what they’re told!” Abul shouted. “Are you Abul’s whore?”

  “Yes,” she said, “I’m Abul’s whore.” Obediently, Kathy bent her head to her breast and licked up Amel’s saliva.

  “Did you like that?” Abul continued to torment her. “Does Abul’s whore like the taste of Amel’s spit?”

  Looking up into the sneering face of Amel, Kathy answered, “Yes, I liked it.” They waited. “I...I...like the taste of his spit,” she said.

  Amel spit on her other breast. Without being told, she lowered her head to lick it up. She was trembling and fought to keep from vomiting.

  “Ah,” Abul sighed, “my whore is slow, but she’s learning. Now, Mrs. Ryan suppose you describe for my friends and me exactly why you would much rather have one of our dark pricks up your ass instead of your husband’s little white penis in your cunt.”

  She knew that he would keep coming back to her weakness. The mention of her husband never failed to bring tears to her eyes. “I...I like your cocks more than my...my husband’s because they are...they are...are almost black and they are bigger.”

  “No, no,” Abul corrected, “that’s not enough. I told you to describe, Mrs. Ryan. Surely a woman who’s been to a fine American university knows what it means to describe.”

  “We want a fucking speech!” Zubair shouted. “We want the American woman to speak the truth. She has had an American prick and now, our pricks, so she should know which is better. The truth, bitch, speak the truth.”

  Kathy thought for a moment, trying to imagine what they wanted to hear. Continuing to look up into the faces of the two grinning soldiers, she said, “Your cocks, are the cocks of powerful, rough, brave men. Your cocks smell and taste manly. My...my husband’s cock was a pink color and was small. It smelled and tasted of soap and perfume. The...the cocks of all American men are like that. But the smell and taste of your cocks is...is strong and rich. It excites me. The smell and the taste of your...your cocks make my...my cunt hot and wet. My husband never took my anal...he never fucked my…my… ass.”

  She paused hoping that would satisfy them. She saw that they were waiting for more. Still on her knees, looking up at them, she continued, “I...I like how you...no, I mean I love the way you fuck my ass. You fuck it hard and fast like brave, victorious soldiers who are raping...raping my ass. I love the feel of your stiff pricks far up inside me. I love it when you cum in my ass, when I feel you pumping your hot cum deep inside me.” Tentatively she leaned forward and kissed the flaccid foul smelling pricks they held out to her. Then, looking up at them she said, “I am an American woman,” she glanced a Abul, “a privileged, highly educated, and, I hope, beautiful, young, American woman.” She turned again to look into the evil grinning faces of the cowards who had just raped her ass. “I am most grateful to be on my knees before you.” She paused once more long enough to place a soft kiss on each of their dark cocks. “I worship your pricks,” she whispered.

  The men looked at Abul and nodded. Knowing her performance would be seen by Satomi, he had difficulty controlling his anger. “Zubair!” he shouted. “You heard what she said, the American bitch worships foreign cock so give her what she wants...rape her again! Rape her ass!”

  “Yes, my friend,” Zubair answered as he moved to stand before her, “but first I want to play with the rich American woman. In her country and in my own, it is hardly permitted for a man like me even to look at the white American bitches.” Kathy had bowed her head. He put his hand under her chin and lifted it, forcing her to look into his angry face. “Answer me, Mrs. Ryan, what if I sat next to you in a bar in America and touched your leg or your breast what would happen to Zubair?”

  She knew he understood full well what would happen. She couldn’t lie. “If...if I didn’t welcome your attention, I would probably complain to the management. If you persisted, then I suppose the police would be called and you...you...would be arrested.”

  His grip on her chin tightened painfully, “In America, Zubair would be imprisoned if he touched the knee of Mrs. Ryan. He would be dirt beneath Mrs. Ryan’s feet. He would be less than a man. Zubair would be shit in America!” She thought for a moment that he might strike her, but when he spo
ke again he’d brought his anger under control. “You would have called them, wouldn’t you. You would have called the police to arrest me?”

  “I...I...suppose I would have, “Kathy began, trying hard to think of something that would appease him, “but that was before I...”

  Zubair interrupted, “Stand up,” he demanded. Kathy rose unsteadily. “But now, Mrs. Ryan, you want me to touch you. You want Zubair’s hands on you?” It was a question.

  Before he even asked, Kathy realized that eventually he would put the question to her and she knew how she must answer. “Yes, I want you to touch me...to feel me.”

  “Where, where do you want Zubair’s hands?”

  She unbuttoned her jacket and let it slide off her shoulders. She stood before him wearing only the pearl necklace and heels. “Everywhere, please... feel me everywhere,” she said.

  He reached in the pocket of his fatigues and withdrew a dirty handkerchief, “Wipe the cum from your ass and legs,” he said, handing it to her. Her face reddened as she bent to clean the strands and gobs of jism from her anal crack and legs. When she finished, he stuffed the handkerchief back in his pocket. “Now, arrogant bitch, make me want to touch you, make me want to fuck your ass. Provoke me, Mrs. Ryan, tease me. Make me, how do you say? ...make me aroused.” He pulled up a chair and sat in it facing her.

  Kathy stood with her head bowed. ‘Why,’ she thought, ‘can’t he just take me as the others did? Why must I further debase myself for the amusement of this stupid, ugly bully.’

  “I’m waiting, Mrs. Ryan,” Zubair said evenly.

  Kathy took a step toward him. “Please,” she began, “feel me. Feel my legs.” Balancing carefully on one leg she placed her other foot in his lap. She pointed her toe so that the stiletto heel was poised over his cock and balls. It occurred to her that if she suddenly pushed down, she could drive a hole through both. He put his huge, rough hands around her ankle and slowly felt along her smooth, white calf and thigh. As his blunt fingers neared her wet slit, she began to tremble.

 

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