The image of Mary Margaret tied to the whipping post flashed through her mind, “You have the contract. I’ve come here to…to…be your woman,” she said, her head bowed.
“It’s possible now that your husband is dead you’ve come to realize you no longer view me as you once did? Perhaps you are in need of a real man and thought I might be able to satisfy you in ways your husband never had?”
Her head still bowed, Kathy shook her head, “No, that’s not…” She stopped, then murmured, “I’m sorry. I...I...thought you might...might want me.”
“You would like me to f**k your ass. You’ve come here hoping I would shove my fat prick up your asshole? Isn’t that true?”
She glanced up at him angrily, then looked away, “Yes. That’s why I’ve come here to you.”
“Ah, what a sweet mouth you have, Mrs. Ryan. I’ve been told that you’ve become an expert at sucking c**k. I’m told that you make the man last a long time and that you love the taste of c*m. Is what I’ve been told accurate? Are you going to part your lovely warm lips for my c**k?”
“What they said about me is true. I...I’ve been trained.” She continued to look down at the floor, “I...I’ll do what you want.”
“Oh, dear, Mrs. Ryan!” he exclaimed, “It’s not going to be that easy, not that easy at all. You humiliated me before my friends and yours. You and your husband tried to have me barred from the club. Oh, yes, you have much to atone for.” He leaned forward leering at her, “Of course, I’m going to f**k your ass and I’m going to have you suck my prick, but those will be treats compared to the other things I have planned for you.”
From a table at his side he took several photographs and handed them to her. She was startled to see that they were of herself and Jeff, snapshots of them in the garden of the Tankard Inn, their favorite bed and breakfast near New Hope, Pennsylvania. They’d asked the gardener to take the photographs. In one she was sitting on Jeff’s lap whispering something into his ear. The other was a close up of them next to a big oak tree. They were kissing. She smiled to herself, remembering that happy weekend. “Now two others,” Ruben said.
He handed her a similar set of prints. In these, however, Jeff remained while she had been replaced by Ruben’s niece, Sheila. The digital transposition had been done by experts. They were perfect. Now, a seventeen year old Sheila sat on Jeff’s lap and in the other photograph Sheila’s lips were pressed against Jeff’s.
Kathy flung the photographs to the floor, “Lies!” she cried, “lies on top of lies!” Hot tears formed and trickled down her cheeks.
“Yes,” Ruben began calmly, “you and Shelia and I know they are lies. There are more lies to come, Mrs. Ryan, lies that you will say are the truth, just as you will say those photographs are the truth. You’ve told me that you are here to apologize, well, Mrs. Ryan, an apology will not do, not do at all.”
He handed her a binder that contained several typed pages. “A few days from this evening there’s to be a gala dance at the Country Club. You will accompany me to it. All of your friends will be there, those who supported you when you and your husband denied Sheila’s accusations. The folder contains your instructions. Read them carefully, memorize them. Know that if you deviate even by a fraction, your sister-in-law will be whipped until she’s unconscious and brought to her senses and whipped again. Know also that your bedmates will be a half-dozen hungry rats. These are not idle threats, Mrs. Ryan.” He waited while Kathy read. She groaned several times and bit her lip as the tears continued to stream down her face.
When she closed the binder, she looked across at him, the hatred blazing in her eyes. “These lies will destroy my good husband’s reputation, absolutely destroy it.”
“That’s precisely the point, Mrs. Ryan. Your splendid upright husband coldly rebuffed my niece, just as you publicly insulted me. Those are the facts. But facts can be altered. Lies can become the truth.” He chuckled. “Besides, Mrs. Ryan, your husband is dead. Your best interests would be served by thinking about his sister and also by imagining what might await you in the cage upstairs.”
Kathy bowed her head. They sat in silence for several minutes. Finally, she looked up, defeated. “I’ll do what you say,” she said.
“And you will be convincing.” His voice rose, “I insist that you be convincing. If you are not, it will be the same as refusing and the consequences will be the same. When we attend the Club Dance there must not be a doubt in the mind of anyone present. In the meantime, I intend to let it be known that you’ve recanted and are anxious to be forgiven for your slanders of the past.”
“I will do what I can to make your lies seem like the truth,” she said.
“See that you do.” He leaned back and folded his thick fingers over his belly. “While we are on the subject of the Country Club celebration, there is another important thing that will be required of you. Can you guess what that might be?”
Kathy’s voice was flat, “You want me to appear to be attracted to you.”
“More than attracted, Mrs. Ryan. I want you to demonstrate in every way possible that for some unexplainable reason you have become, not attracted, but absolutely devoted to me. In the things you say and do it should be apparent that you’ve fallen in love with me. Make your friends see that you wish only to please me, that you are quick to anticipate my desires and ready to fulfill them, that you are grateful for any small attention I pay to you.” He folded his hands over his belly and chuckled. “Let them see that you’ve chosen, freely chosen, to live with me. I want to see affection in word and deed, Mrs. Ryan, public affection that borders on lust. Everyone must be aware that you have given yourself to me, completely and gratefully. They are to know that I’ve had you and you liked it and want more. Do you understand?”
“Yes, I understand.”
“You must also be attentive to Sheila. Not only attentive but subservient, submissive, anxious now to rectify old wrongs not only by admitting to your husband’s seduction of a minor, but also by demonstrating your devotion to the young woman he seduced.”
“You mean Sheila is to be there?”
“Of course. It is her reputation that has been in question. You will admit that you and your husband lied. You will testify to the truth of Shelia’s account of their yearlong affair. In the Country Club among your friends, you will support everything Sheila says. You will debase your husband for abusing my young niece and for his unfaithfulness to you.” Kathy felt the tears well up in her eyes. “Finally,” Rosen continued, “before your friends and mine, you will beg Sheila to forgive you.”
“You demand too much of me,” Kathy said. How could she pretend that Jeff could possibly have even considered touching that skinny, arrogant, loud-mouthed tart? How could she say that their lies were the truth? How could she possibly demean herself before that disgusting little b***h?
“No, Mrs. Ryan, I don’t ask too much. You are to do exactly what you’re told because to do otherwise would cause unbearable suffering to someone you love. I also remind you that there are no windows in your room here. The walls are quite thick. Your screams will not be heard. During a long night trying to fight off the starving rats, you will scream, Mrs. Ryan...scream until you have no voice left to scream with.”
His words sent a shudder through Kathy’s body. “I have no choice,” she said.
“That’s correct. You have no choice. I see that the original photographs are on your lap. Take them to the fireplace and burn them.”
Reluctantly, Kathy crossed to the blazing logs. After looking once more at the pictures, she dropped them into the fire. “Now, the only true photographs are those you threw to the floor. Pick them up. Return to your seat and tell me when and where you discovered them.”
When Kathy was seated, she thought for a moment before speaking. “I found these shortly after Jeff died. They were hidden under other papers in his desk drawer.”
“And love letters from Sheila,” Ruben added. “She also has a packet that she will say were sent to her by your husband. You will testify that the handwriting is his. Perhaps Sheila will require you to read one?” It was a question.
Kathy wanted to kill him, kill him and his hateful niece. She didn’t answer.
“I remind you of the sadistic dwarf at a place called the Facility. Perhaps you would like to join me if she is whipped again tonight? We could watch together,” he said.
Kathy glared across at him, “I’ll say the handwriting is Jeff’s. I’ll read what Sheila asks me to read.”
Ruben nodded, “Yes, that will do nicely. Sheila and I will ask you other questions most of which are listed in folder I gave you. Be prepared to give the expected answers. Be prepared to fully support Sheila’s account of the passionate affair your husband lured her into when she was little more than a child.” Kathy’s anger turned to despair. The tears welled up and rolled down her cheeks.
“Enough of that!” he said sharply. He crooked a finger at her, “Come over here and kneel between my legs.” The thought of kneeling before this filthy, foul smelling old man sickened her. The fact that he could see her breasts through the thin blouse and that he knew she was naked under the short skirt, caused her to blush profusely. She rose unsteadily and crossed to him. He pointed to the floor. When she was on her knees before him, he said, “Now, unzip me and take out my prick.” Despising herself, Kathy tugged down his zipper and reached inside his shorts for his limp c**k. The odor of his crotch turned her stomach. His pale flaccid p***s was both long and thick. She looked up into his evil face, “Kiss it,” he hissed. “But first tell me that you have always longed to get down on your knees before Simon Ruben and press your lips to his prick. Tell me that it’s been a secret desire of yours since you were in your teens. Make me believe it.”
She raised her head hating the sight of him, “I...I...I’ve always longed to kneel before Simon Ruben and…and…kiss his …his p***s,” she said.
“And?”
Kathy thought for a moment. “Even when I was in high school and you would be at the country club pool, I thought about it. I’ve always been attracted to older powerful men.” She paused. He seemed to want more. “I would watch you when you weren’t looking and…and imagine what you were like…imagine what you would make me do.” Kathy suddenly realized with sickening dread her words were not far from the truth.
He seemed satisfied. “I want you to repeat that story to both my friends and yours.” He glared at her waiting for a response. She nodded. He leaned back appraising her. “You have lovely lips, Mrs. Ryan, soft and warm. I suggest you part them each time you do what you are about to do. Before long, your lips will be well acquainted with my prick. Right now, I want to feel your tongue on my cockhead.”
Obediently Kathy lowered her head to his revolting p***s and pressed her parted lips to it. She touched the tip of her tongue to his fat white prick. Then she looked up at him again. He finished his wine before speaking, “You like that don’t you, Mrs. Ryan? You’ve learned to desire the smell and taste of cock...the smell and taste of any c**k?”
“Yes, I’ve learned to like it,” she said, her voice flat, her eyes dull.
“Before this month is over, the thought of sucking the prick of Simon Ruben will fill you with desire. You will come crawling to me and beg me to f**k your mouth. That’s no longer just a fantasy of the man you once humiliated, is it, Mrs. Ryan?’ He leaned toward her. “Put your hands around my prick. Take several minutes to examine it closely. Imagine how it will fill your mouth. Imagine the taste of the hot c*m you will draw from it.” He pushed her head close to his c**k as she held it between her hands. She stared at it as he had instructed. Under the white skin were thick purple veins. It begin to swell in her hands. Her training at the Facility had been effective. She felt the saliva fill her mouth. She swallowed. He grinned at her, “What are you thinking, Mrs. Ryan? Are you thinking my prediction is correct? I’d like a complete answer.”