Abul turned back to face Kathy. “Here, gentlemen,” he gestured toward her, “we have a wealthy American woman who willingly gives up her fancy life to come here so that she can honor Abul.” The two older men laughed. “Lift your breasts, Mrs. Ryan,” Abul ordered. “Look up at us. Thrust them out!” Kathy raised her head and, cupping her breasts, lifted them. “Pride, yes, that’s what is wanted. Be proud of what you’ve done. Tell us, are you proud to display yourself to us in this way?”
“Yes,” she looked directly at him hoping he could see in her eyes that she despised him, yet was fearful of displeasing him. “Yes, they swell with pride.”
“Good, Mrs. Ryan. I’m glad to hear it. Now, when you were married and living in your fancy house did you sometimes perfume your breasts as rich American wome
