Chapter Nineteen - Abul

Kathy, expecting to be paraded through the elegant dining room on a leash behind Richie almost shouted for joy when she realized he was heading toward the entrance. Stein must have altered the plan or Richie’s muddled brain forgot it. The doorman and passersby stared at the bizarre couple. Kathy’s cape was still draped over her arm. The silver chain linking her to Richie glinted in the glare of headlights. Richie stumbled, and muttered, and stopped to spit on the sidewalk. The weather had turned colder, and the wind tore at Kathy’s split skirt. She felt it through the thin blouse and against her bare legs.

Abul remained behind the wheel. Richie opened the limo door and entered, giving a hard jerk on the chain, which snapped Kathy’s head forward. She quickly slid in beside him. Before starting the car, Abul looked back at them. “This woman,” he said, pointing a finger at Kathy, “is much too proud for her own good. She don’t do what I tell her.”

“Ta...ta...tell her again,” Richie grunted.

“Spread,” Abul demanded. He turned on the dome light above her. Kathy, her hands gripping the seat on either side glanced at Richie, then slowly parted her knees. “More,” Abul frowned at her. She opened wider until her shaved pussy was fully exposed. She knew he could see that her slit was wet. Abul looked at Richie who nodded. The Pakistani leaned over the back seat. “You like showing me your cunt?” he asked.

“No,” Kathy said, “I hate being made to do this for you. You’re supposed to drive the car. You have no business trying to give me orders.”

“Wrong answer,” Abul wiggled a long dirty finger at her. Richie quickly turned toward her and twisting her nipple dug his fingernail into it. She cried out but made no move to resist.

“Now,” Abul ordered, “give the right answer.”

“Yes,” she said, “yes, I like showing myself to you.”

Abul smiled. She noticed the broken stubbles of his rotting teeth. “Now, say to me that you would like very much for me to fuck your hot cunt.”

Turning to look out of the window, she remained silent, until Richie applied pressure to her sore nipple. “I...I would like you to...to do it to me,” she said.

“Not correct,” Abul glared at her.

“I would like for you to fuck my hot cunt,” she whispered just loud enough for him to hear.

Abul turned around and, leaving the dome light on, started the car. He glanced back at her, “Maybe instead, if you ask nice, I let you suck my dick.” Richie released her nipple. The limo pulled out into the traffic.

After a few minutes, she drew her knees together. Abul looked at her through the rearview mirror, “Open up, bitch,” he said.

“D...d...do what he says,” Richie raised his hand but did not slap her. Slowly, she spread her legs. The arrogant Pakistani disgusted her. He was ugly and smelled bad. He should be working in some shabby gas station, washing her windows, and tipping his hat, and saying ‘thank you, ma’am’.

“You need to train her better,” Abul said. “She don’t know her place.” They drove on in silence for several minutes. Abul glanced over his shoulder at Richie. “Tell her to finger fuck herself,” he said.

“Please, no,” she touched Richie’s arm. “Please, Richie, not for him.”

“Do it,” Richie said.

Tentatively, she placed her right hand over her exposed pussy. Abul looked up at the mirror. “I don’t see no action,” he said. She slipped her middle finger into her vagina that was now oozing. Against her palm she felt the hard button of her clitoris and the first tingling surges of pleasure. She closed her eyes, her breasts rising and falling rapidly. She began to rotate her hips. A small moan escaped from her parted lips. Both men laughed. “That’s enough,” Abul commanded. “Little bitch ain’t supposed to come.” She placed her hand back on the seat, keeping her eyes closed and her legs spread.

Beside her she felt Richie move and heard him unzip his pants. He poked her with his elbow. She hesitated for a moment, then slid her left hand inside his trousers. His thin cock was hard. Very gently she began to stroke him. She had not opened her eyes. She cupped his balls and drew her fingernails over them. She recalled their initial meeting in Stein’s place on the afternoon of Jeff’s funeral. It was the first time Richie had taken her. Her wrists and ankles secured to the keg, Richie’s spittle on her back. She felt again the head of his cock touching her anal opening and then the vicious thrust and the tearing. She remembered the night she proposed to him. She saw herself on her knees sucking his repulsive cock, the firelight flickering around them, his thick come filling her mouth. With a shudder she thought of the terrible moment after their wedding when she realized that in some unexplainable way she had become not only his wife, but his possession. They had looked at each other and both of them understood that she was his.

She squeezed his cock and wanted desperately to touch her clit. On their wedding night, after acknowledging that she belonged to him, he’d taken her again before the assembled guests. And just two nights ago she was on her knees spreading her cheeks for him in front of Stella and the hateful Cordelia. Later that night, even after she had begged him not to, he had taken her a second time. The cock she now held in her small hand had been caressed by her mouth. She had swallowed its jism. Four times it had pushed brutally into her anal opening and had spurted deep inside her. No doubt it would happen again tonight. Almost as if he’d read her mind, Richie said, “No...no...no more.” He brushed her hand away and zipped up his fly. “G...g...got to save it for later,” he said.

“Why save it?” Abul asked.

“Fu...fu...fuck her ass,” Richie replied.

Kathy opened her eyes. Abul was watching her in the mirror. “You like a stiff cock up your ass?”

She looked out of the window, “Yes,” she said, “my husband’s.”

“Yeah, her ass b...b...b...belongs to m...m...me,” Richie said. “Sh...sh...she belongs to me.”

“What if you told the rich American bitch to suck me off?”

“She does what I say.”

“Is he right?” Abul asked. “You do what he says?”

Kathy continued to look out of the window, “I’m his woman,” she said. They rode in silence for a long while. The thought that Richie might demand that she satisfy Abul sickened her. It was something she simply could not do. She loathed the Pakistani. He was contemptible and repulsive. He reeked of perspiration. It was clear he hated her. She wondered why she was here in this car with these two men who, in the past, she would not have hired to carry away her garbage.

She sat with her knees spread wide, obediently exposing her pussy to Abul who still kept glancing up at the rearview mirror. Next to her, Richie wiped the drool from his mouth with the back of his hand. Before long she knew he would stutter, “K...k...k...kiss,” and she would press her parted lips against his and accept his tongue. She was sure the night would end with the fierce pain of another anal rape. But, of course, it could not be rape. She had willingly delivered herself into his hands. She had agreed to submit to him and, on their wedding night, publicly acknowledged that this ignorant, unbalanced, cold-blooded cretin was her possessor. She had said or done nothing since that time to suggest she wished it were otherwise. She was aware that a kind of mantra had been playing over and over in her head ever since Richie had lurched into the bar of the Triangle Club. It was, “I belong to Richie...I am his woman...I belong to Richie...I am his woman.”

She noticed that they were traveling west on route nineteen, back in the direction of her home. She was afraid to hope that, as Stein had put it, their ‘night in public’ was over. Could it be that the elaborate preparations, the limousine, the gown, cape, collar, shoes, had all been designed for that momentary encounter in the bar?

Abul tilted his head back and turned slightly toward them, “Richie.”

“Yeah.”

“That chain you’re holding.”

“Wh...wh...what about it?”

“Make her pull it tight into her slit.”

Richie nodded. He handed Kathy the chain. “D...d...do it,” he said. One end of the thin chain was still attached to her leather collar. The end Richie had released hung down to the floor.

“Now,” Abul instructed, “pull it up and back so the chain is between your cunt lips.” Afraid to protest, Kathy centered the chain between her breasts and carefully pushed it between the folds of her shaved pussy. Abul watched her through the rearview mirror. “Tighter,” he said. “Lift up, reach under, and pull it tight between your ass cheeks. Keep your legs spread.”

Kathy raised her hips and guided the chain along the crease of her pussy and between her buttocks. Abul grinned. “Richie, it ain’t tight enough,” he said. “Reach around her and yank it.”

Kathy looked at Richie, pleading, “Don’t, Richie, don’t listen to him. He’s only the driver.”

“Sh...sh...shut the fu...fu...fuck up,” Richie said. He slid his hand under her until he was able to grab the chain.

“Yank it,” Abul yelled, “make it hurt.”

Richie pulled hard. Kathy cried out as the chain cut against the sensitive flesh of her vagina. Both men laughed. “Say something nice to me and maybe I can get Richie to let go,” Abul scowled at her in the mirror.

“You stink,” Kathy said.

Abul’s face reddened in anger. “Pull it, Richie, pull it hard!” This time the slicing pain caused her to double over. “You want more?” Abul asked. He waited for Kathy to catch her breath.

“No...no more,” she whispered.

“Well then...?”

“I...I’m sorry for what I said. I...I...like you.”

“Not good enough.” She saw that he was about to tell Richie to pull again.

“No wait!” she cried. “Please!”

“How much you like me?”

“Very much.”

“What you like to do for me?”

“I...I...don’t know.”

“You put my hands on your tits and ask me to squeeze them?”

She shuddered at the thought of this man touching her. “Yes,” she said.

“Tongue kiss?”

She thought of the rotting stubs of his broken teeth. She didn’t answer.

“Richie...” he began.

“Yes,” she said quickly. “Tongue kiss you.”

“How about you get on your knees for me?”

“No!”

Richie yanked on the chain once more causing her to cry out. He held the chain tight until she nodded her head. After he relaxed it and she caught her breath she whispered, “Yes, I would get on my knees.”

“You want me to fuck your mouth with my prick?”

She felt sick and cold and thought she might vomit. “Yes,” she said, fighting to control her voice, “I you...you could fuck my mouth.”

“Your mouth be hot and you lick my balls?”

“Yes, whatever you say.”

“Good, but later,” he said. “You can count on it.” He looked back at Richie. “Okay, maybe you should let go. We don’t want to cut her pussy.” Richie released the chain. “Tell her to open her cunt and see if there’s any blood.”

Before Richie could respond, Kathy spread her vaginal lips. Richie leaned over to examine her. “N...no...no blood,” he said.

“Wet?” Abul asked.

“Yeah, wet.”

“She’s a hot little bitch. Just needs to be trained better, much better. Need to be hurt. Ain’t that right, bitch?”

Kathy didn’t answer. They were only about five miles from her house. She caught a glimpse of a sign that read, ‘Hawthorne, Next Right’. Moments later the car slowed down and made the right turn. With a sinking feeling, Kathy realized that their night in public was not almost over. It had just barely begun. They were going to Harry’s Bar.