Kathy determined that she would not scream. She squeezed her eyes shut. With each blow, her body twitched and she expelled short audible breaths. Mi Jong moved to the other side. Kathy’s nipples protruded even further as they were flogged. With each crack of the riding crop the wet garbage and urine mix spattered Kathy’s gown with black stains. The pain shot like white-hot fire from her tender nipples to the rest of her body. She wanted desperately to protect her breasts with her hands, but she kept them locked behind her neck. Mi Jong stood in front of her now, quickly striking one nipple then the other.
When it looked as if Kathy might pass out again, Abul shouted, “Stop, Mi Jong!” Kathy unclasped her hands and fell forward before regaining her balance. Her black nipples were crisscrossed with lash marks. Her gown was spotted and saturated with sweat. The whip had cut the material so that her breasts were fully exposed. Kathy, breathing hard, tried to keep from trembling. “We found that quite amusing, Mrs. Ryan. How did you find it?” Abul asked.
Kathy’s throat was dry, her voice a raspy whisper, “I’m pleased to have entertained my Master and his guests,” she said.
Abul signaled to Miko, “Take her behind the screen. Clean her up.” He clapped his hands. The music began and serving girls appeared bearing trays of drinks.
Once more hidden from the main room, Kathy lay on the plastic covered mattress while Miko kneeled over her, cutting away the saturated gown. Mi Jong then sponge bathed her with warm, soapy water. Kathy bit her lip when Mi Jong wiped away the remaining smelly mixture. “I did not whip you as hard as first time,” Mi Jong said, as she treated the welts with healing lotion.
“Thank you,” Kathy said.
“Not my decision,” Mi Jong replied. “Madam Khe say not to cut you.”
“What if Madam Khe had left it up to you?” Kathy asked.
“Would have whipped harder. Make nipples bleed.”
Kathy looked up at her, “Why do you hate me, Mi Jong?”
“Feel same as Abul. You rich American. Very pretty. Go to college. Have house. Have everything. You sign paper. Come here to be a whore. I would never sign paper. I would never choose to be whore. Men here, and maybe men all over, want to think women no different than animal. Like pet dog. You give up everything to be animal. Worse. Not even dog do what you do. You bring down all women. You make life harder for me, for all women. I would be glad to beat you until nothing left.”
It was the longest speech she’d ever heard Mi Jong make. “What you say is true, Mi Jong. I understand. I’m sorry I signed the paper. I’m sorry for the disgrace I’ve brought...”
“Enough talk,” Miko interrupted. She handed Mi Jong a big towel and taking one herself, they quickly dried Kathy then rubbed her with the scented oil. She was given another white gown. It was form fitting and made of silk with delicate lace embroidery and was slit in the front. On her feet they placed white open sandals that consisted of little more than thin straps and four-inch heels. Her eyes were heavily made up with dark eye shadow and mascara. Miko applied bright red lipstick and gloss. “No time to paint nails again,” she said. She went in front of the screen and nodded to Abul. He dismissed the serving girls as the guests settled back in their chairs to await what they knew would be the final test.
When Miko saw that they were ready, she took Kathy by the arm. “Go to the front of the stage. Bow head but not kneel this time. Abul will tell you what to do.”
When Kathy appeared, the guests murmured their astonishment at her remarkable transformation. She was astonishingly beautiful and seemed to epitomize American wholesomeness coupled with a shy innocence. Abul wanted her more than ever and determined once again that he would make her fail. “Look up, Mrs. Ryan,” he began. She lifted her head, quickly glancing at Mr. Satomi before attending to Abul. “Are you grateful for the opportunities I have given you this evening to show these guests how much you respect your Master?”
“Yes, I am very grateful.”
“Refresh our memories. In what ways did you acknowledge your devotion?”
“I pressed my lips to your feet and cleaned them with my tongue.”
“Did you enjoy that?” Abul asked.
“Yes, Master. It gave me great pleasure.”
“Go on,” Abul grunted.
“You wished to see me whipped and the whipping excited me because I know that watching me be whipped pleases you.” Abul nodded. “You gave me the opportunity to destroy the last connection I had with my late husband.” She paused for a moment to get control of her emotions. “I broke his gift and was honored to accept yours.”
“My gift?”
“Yes, the gift. I painted my...my nipples with it. After that I was permitted to...to lick your anus. That, too, excited me.”
Abul realized it had been a mistake to ask her to list the examples of her devotion. However, he now had to let her continue. Kathy also understood he had made a mistake. Trying to catch her off guard he asked, “Are you grateful to me, Mrs. Ryan, for murdering your husband?”
It was a moment before Kathy answered. She thought of what Mi Jong had said, ‘you had everything’. The best of that ‘everything’ had been Jeff. She looked squarely at Abul. “Yes, Master, I am grateful. As you have so often reminded me, my husband was weak. You are strong. My place is to kneel at your feet.”
“The ring?” Abul questioned.
“I feel honored that you have accepted the wedding ring I once gave to my husband.”
“Continue,” Abul muttered.
“Finally, Mi Jong whipped my breasts for your pleasure and that, too, excited and pleased me. Thank you, Master, for granting me these opportunities to demonstrate my devotion.”
Abul was silent. Kathy bowed her head again and waited. She heard a rustling in the audience and, looking up, saw that Swart and another servant were coming up the ramp with the chair in which sat the small woman draped in black. Kathy had noticed that the woman in the chair had neither moved nor spoken during the entire evening. The men placed the chair in the center of the stage. Swart remained beside it. The other man returned to the audience.
The black shroud, which covered the figure, draped down over the arms of the chair until it touched the floor, completely obscuring the body of the woman. Her hair was covered with a cowl that also hid the lower part of her face. She wore a black mask with tiny slits for her eyes. Kathy noticed that the tent-like covering was fastened by a single hook at the woman’s neck and was simply overlapped along its front.
“We’ve saved the best for last,” Abul said. Kathy saw him glance across at Mr. Satomi. The Japanese nodded. “Swart,” Abul called, “show Mrs. Ryan what we’ve brought her.”
Swart unhooked the clasp and quickly parted the material, pulling it back and off the chair. Kathy screamed and fell to her knees, covering her face with her hands and sobbing uncontrollably. Swart removed the woman’s cowl. Her lustrous copper colored hair fell down around her shoulders. Except for a painfully tight ball gag and the mask, Kathy’s young sister-in-law, Mary Margaret, was naked. Her wrists were strapped to the arms of the chair. Her legs were spread wide and secured to the legs of the heavy chair with leather cuffs just below her knees and at her ankles. The cleft of her vagina was visible through the soft red tufts of her pubic hair.
Under the glare of the lights, her pale skin was even whiter than Kathy’s. She tried to lean forward and hunch her shoulders. Swart efficiently looped a leather strap around her upper arms then, pulling it tight behind the back of the chair, buckled it. Mary Margaret's small breasts were thrust forward. Kathy cried out again and, standing up, started toward the helpless girl. Swart intercepted her and forcefully turned her to face Abul.
“Ahhh, you Americans,” Abul laughed, “always trying to come to the rescue. Like your friend, Mr. Kedad, you’ve seen too many movies, Mrs. Ryan. But this is not a movie.”
Kathy’s face was scarlet with rage. She was about to scream at Abul and the assembled guests when suddenly, Madam Khe stood up. “Mr
s. Ryan,” she said forcefully, “I suggest you take a moment.”
Abul had turned to Madam Khe. Pointing at her, he shouted angrily, “You have no right!”
Madam Khe nodded. “That is correct, Abul, I have no right.” She sat down.
The interruption was enough to enable Kathy to bring her rage under control. Swart still held her arms. Facing Abul, she bowed her head. Her lip quivered and the tears flowed from her eyes. Scornfully, Abul grinned at her. “While you were being refreshed, Mrs. Ryan, we voted on the form tonight’s next entertainment should take. Half of us wanted to see our innocent new arrival whipped. The other half expressed a desire to watch you give her an orgasm.” If Swart hadn’t been holding her, Kathy knew she would have collapsed. Abul pressed his advantage. “Madam Khe has told us how accomplished you’ve become in pleasuring her. Is that true?”
Kathy had trouble speaking. “If Madam Khe has said it, then it must be so.”
“But, your lover Swart, is anxious to mark the tender white flesh of your virgin sister-in-law.”
“Please, no,” Kathy whispered.
“We’ve decided to let you cast the tie breaking vote. Swart’s efficient whip or your talented tongue? What’s it to be, Mrs. Ryan?”
“Not the whip,” Kathy said, still refusing to look at Abul.
“Good. But there’s one condition. These little entertainments tend to lose their novelty rather quickly. You have ten minutes, Mrs. Ryan. If you have not brought the girl to an authentic orgasm within ten minutes, she will be whipped for our pleasure. Is that clear?”
“But...I...she...,” Kathy began to protest, then catching herself she raised her head. “I understand,” she said. Swart released her. She turned to face Mary Margaret. The young girl’s eyes were wide with disbelief and fear. Without a word, Kathy got to her knees between Mary Margaret’s legs.
“Ten minutes!” Abul shouted.
Kathy ran her hands up over her sister-in-law’s hips. Then, leaning against her, she began to kiss, very gently, the pale pink nipples. They swelled under her mouth. She sucked one then the other. Her right hand felt along Mary Margaret’s inner thigh. She parted the labial lips and slid her fingers into the wet crease. She felt Mary Margaret shudder. She moved her head down, softly kissing Mary Margaret’s white belly and around the edges of the silky blush colored hair that only partially concealed the trembling girl’s pink slit. Mary Margaret whimpered behind the ball gag as she shook her head from side to side and drew back as far as she could against the chair.
“The little innocent is getting hot!” one of the women cried out.
“But let’s hope she doesn’t cum,” Zembouri said. “I would enjoy seeing Swart whip that sweet white ass.”
Mary Margaret strained against the bindings that spread her legs. Kathy parted the terrified girl’s vaginal lips and began to tease, with the tip of her tongue, the surprisingly large bright red clit that glistened with Mary Margaret’s secretions. Remembering the searing pain of the whip, Kathy thought to herself, ‘Please, please dear Mary Margaret, for your own good, please cum for me.’
“Only two minutes more!” Abul shouted.
Mary Margaret was breathing rapidly and now, instead of trying to pull away from Kathy’s mouth, was pushing her pelvis forward. Kathy licked up the flowing juices and, burying her head between the girl’s legs, sucked hard at the swollen clitoris, then released it and flicked it with the tip of her tongue before once more taking it between her lips and sucking. Then, pulling Mary Margaret’s hips forward, Kathy licked the tight puckered anus and along the crack until she again closed her mouth over the cherry red clitoris. Abul was about to announce that the ten minutes was up when Mary Margaret came with a thrashing orgasm that rocked the heavy chair and threatened to topple it over. Throwing her head back, she gasped and choked. Spittle ran from the corners of her mouth. Even after Kathy had moved back away from her, Mary Margaret continued to make low moaning sounds behind the gag and her body twitched spasmodically. “Thank God,” Kathy whispered.
“Come to the edge of the stage,” Abul ordered, “and remain on your knees.” As Kathy crawled forward, she was aware that the light behind her dimmed and went out, leaving Mary Margaret in darkness. When she had positioned herself as Abul had instructed, she bowed her head and waited. “Well, Mrs. Ryan,” he began, “you have succeeded in cheating us out of the pleasure of seeing your sister-in-law whipped. However, we are satisfied that the girl has considerable potential. How do you say it in America? She is hot, right? Do you think she is hot, Mrs. Ryan?”
“I…I don’t know,” Kathy said.
“We disagree. After what we just witnessed, you better than anyone here should be able to tell us if the girl has the kind of sensuality we require of our American whores. Does she or doesn’t she?”
Kathy could not answer immediately. She knew what Abul wanted her to say, but she was afraid to say it. “I suppose... I mean perhaps she might.”
“We don’t want to hear ‘suppose’ and ‘might’. You saw how quickly her nipples stiffened. You felt her pushing her cunt up into your mouth. Surely you were aware of how quickly she came to an orgasm and how violent an orgasm it was. I repeat my question. Does your husband’s beautiful young sister have the potential for the kind of sexual service we require of our American whores? Do you believe with some training she would be worthy enough to serve a man like me? We want a complete answer, Mrs. Ryan.”
“Yes. I think so.”
“A complete answer, Mrs. Ryan.”
“I think she has the kind of potential you require, the sexual potential you require of your American whores. With training she...she...might be worthy.”
“Are you one, Mrs. Ryan? One of our American whores.”
“Yes. I am one of your American whores.”
“And how does that make you feel?”
“Proud,” Kathy said, “I am proud to be Abul’s whore.”
“We are pleased to hear it. Now, Mrs. Ryan, we come to the moment of truth. Will you refresh our memories as to the purpose of your providing us with entertainment tonight? You can speak openly.”
Kathy’s throat was like dust. She swallowed several times before lifting her head to look out into the audience. “After my trial, it was to be decided whether I would serve out the year of my contract with you or with Mr. Satomi.”
“Is it safe to say, Mrs. Ryan, that if you were given a choice you would elect to serve Mr. Satomi?”
Kathy suspected Abul was trying to trick her. However, if she said she would rather serve him, Mr. Satomi might just give her to Abul. “Yes,” she replied, “if given a choice I would want to serve Mr. Satomi.”
“Then you shall.” She had expected Abul to be furious. He was strangely calm. “However,” he continued, smiling, “your decision creates a minor problem.” The lights behind her came up again. She turned to see Mary Margaret still bound, naked, to the chair. Kathy cried out when she noticed that Mary Margaret’s nipples had also been painted as hers had been. Mary Margaret held her head up and to the side. Her eyes were squeezed shut. Kathy spun back around to face Abul, her face red with anger, her eyes flashing.
Before she could shout at him, Madam Khe spoke, “Remember Kedad,” she said. In an instant, it all became clear to Kathy. They could not let Mary Margaret go. She had seen too much. She would never be released until they were certain she would not reveal what she knew. Kedad was killed within minutes of leaving the London Airport.
Abul glared at Madam Khe. He turned back to Kathy and waved his arm at Mary Margaret. “She doesn’t wear my badges as proudly as you do, Mrs. Ryan, but there is time, there is time. Now, to our dilemma. When I murdered your husband...” he paused. Behind them, they heard Mary Margaret make a groaning sound. Abul chuckled. “As I was saying, murdering your husband, who was also the young virgin’s beloved brother, put me at considerable risk. I was a foreigner in your country. Had I been caught, I surely would have been executed. Mr. Satomi appreciated my s
ervice. I also brought you here and have been responsible for your training. Your service to me tonight proves that you now know your place and your purpose in life. Remind us of what are they, Mrs. Ryan.”
“My place is on my knees before my Master. My purpose is to serve him in every way he wishes.”
“Good. Because of my own service to Mr. Satomi, he has promised me an American woman of my own.” He paused to look across at Satomi. Kathy, too, watched carefully as the Japanese nodded his head. “I have decided to marry the woman I am given.” He looked around at his guests who laughed with him. “It will be a ceremony much like those practiced in America, but, of course, will not require of me the legal or matrimonial obligations American men endure. I will own the woman. She will be my property. As part of the marriage celebration, she will service all of the wedding guests who want to have her. If that woman turns out to be you, we can arrange the wedding for next week.”
“But, you said...” Kathy began to protest.
“I said you have been permitted to choose.” Abul cut her off. “There are two American women here tonight. One for Mr. Satomi and one as his gift to me.” Kathy felt as if she might faint. “If,” Abul went on, “you should have a change of heart and wish to serve out your contract as my obedient wife, then Mr. Satomi will either take the young virgin for himself or he will send her back to London.” He paused waiting for Kathy to respond. She said nothing. “If it is still your desire to belong to Mr. Satomi, you will leave for Japan tomorrow. Your late husband’s young sister will be given to me. After she has undergone six weeks of training, much like your own, you and tonight’s guests will come back here for the wedding ceremony. I understand she was the maid of honor at your wedding. Is that correct?”
Kathy whispered, “Yes, she was.”
“Then, you will have the opportunity to return the favor. What is it to be? Tell us, Mrs. Ryan. Say either ‘I choose to be the wife of Abul’ or ‘I give my husband’s virgin sister to Abul and will be honored to take part in their wedding ceremony’.”
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