Chapter Twenty - Harry’s, Act One

“You ready to party?” Abul asked.

“No,” Kathy said quickly, “I want to go home. Take me home.”

Richie half turned toward her, drew his arm back and with an open hand slapped her. He drew his arm back again. “Please, Richie!” she cried, as she wedged herself into the corner of the car.

Richie slid across the seat and, leaning over her, his misshapen face inches from hers, his cold spittle spraying her reddened cheek, stuttered, “K...k...k...kiss.” Obediently, she lifted her head and pressed her parted lips against his. She felt the color spread from her cheeks down to her breasts and felt her nipples stiffen, and then the rush of warm wetness between her legs. Hating herself, but unable to do otherwise, she held Richie’s face between her hands and groaned. Richie pushed her away. “Sh...sh...she’ll fu...fu...fuckin’ party,” he said.

“Is that right, bitch? You going to party for us?” Abul asked. He swung the limousine up to Harry’s. Kathy saw that there were several cars, a motorcycle, and a pickup truck in the lot. Drapes had been pulled across the windows and a ‘closed’ sign hung on one of them. She had not answered Abul. “Goddamn you!” he shouted turning to face her. “I asked a question.”

She looked away from him. Richie grabbed the chain that was still under her. Before he could tighten it, she said, “Yes...yes I will...I’ll party.”

It had been only a few weeks since she’d come here looking for Wally. Jeff was alive then. Stein was nothing more than some fat old slob at the bar. Richie, and Vinnie, and Stella did not yet exist for her. She was free. She had a fine home, a good husband, interesting friends, a wonderful life rich with promise. Now, just a short time later, on a bitterly cold night, she was back. Only everything had changed. She was the wife of this brutal, drooling idiot who held a chain that was attached to a leather collar that circled her neck. She would be led, half-naked, like a docile animal into Harry’s Bar. And then? She pushed the thought out of her mind refusing to imagine what the night might bring.

Richie pointed to the cape that had fallen to the floor. “P...p...put it on,” he said. She picked it up and, placing it over her shoulders, buckled the clasp. Richie gestured toward the door. She opened it and got out. Immediately the cold wind tore at the split skirt. Unsure of her footing in the spike heels, she held the door open for Richie. He slammed it shut and jerked on the chain. She followed behind him.

Abul waited for a moment then joined them. She was surprised to see that he was very tall and thin as a post. His long bony face and bulging eyes made him almost as ugly as Richie. He tapped on the entrance door and someone she couldn’t see swung it open. The barroom was dimly lit and empty. She noticed their three shadowy reflections in the bar mirror. They made a strange procession: the Pakistani leading, her husband shuffling along behind him, and, at the end of the chain he held, she saw herself...Richie’s woman.

At the far end of the bar was a heavy oak door, which Abul pushed open. When she stepped into the large room, her heart sank and her legs trembled so much she had to hold onto the doorframe for support. The room was brightly lit with floodlights that hung from pipes near the ceiling. Projecting out from the far wall was a raised stage. In front of it were several small Formica tables and metal folding chairs in which slouched grinning men who turned to look at her.

At one table, Stein sat alone. At another she saw Vinnie, and Wally, and Harry, the owner of the bar. She recognized Cliff, the angry black who had offered ten dollars for her panties. With him was a huge man, bigger even than Vinnie. He wore an Army undershirt and Army fatigue pants. She noticed his powerful arms were covered with tattoos. Next to him, staring not at her but off into space, was a toothless old man with long white hair and a scraggly beard. Abul had gone over to a table in a far corner, out of the glare of the lights. There was a figure at the table. She drew in her breath when she saw that it was Mr. Satomi, the impassive Japanese. She looked for Stella, but she was not there.

When Kathy took an unsteady step into the room, the men began to yell. “Hey, Richie, that’s some fuckin’ good lookin’ woman you got!”

“You gonna share, Richie?”

“We gonna get a piece of that?”

“Come on over to your Daddy,” Vinnie stood up, “I got what you want right in here!” He grabbed his crotch. The men laughed.

“You mean to tell me this hot lookin’ bitch is married to the Goddamn loonie?” It was the big man with the tattoos.

“That’s right, Harley,” Wally said. “And Frank tells me she jumps through every fuckin’ hoop the retard holds up. She’ll get down on her knees and suck your fat dick if he tells her to. Ain’t that right, Richie?”

“R...r...r...right,” Richie lifted his hand that held the chain. “S...sh...sh...she d...d...does what I say.”

“Like a dog?” Cliff asked.

“La...la…like a fu...fu…fuckin’ dog!” Richie shouted.

Stein motioned to Richie who crossed the room to his table. Kathy, her head bowed, her eyes lowered followed and sat next to Stein. Richie took the chair across from them. The men continued to shout obscenities, and joke among themselves, and drink. She noticed pitchers of beer on each table along with whiskey and vodka bottles. A skinny young boy kept filling the pitchers from the bar and bringing bowls of potato chips and pretzels.

“Well, Mrs. Sconzo,” Stein smiled, “how are you enjoying your night on the town?” He filled her empty glass from the beer pitcher.

“Please, Mr. Stein,” she said, her voice trembling, “I can’t do this. Please, I beg you, let me go home.”

Stein pushed the whiskey bottle across the table, “Drink up, Richie,” he said. “Your bride here wants to go home.”

“Fu...fu...fu...fuck that,” Richie said. “She does what I say.”

“Please, Richie,” she reached to touch his hand, “take me home. You can do whatever you want to me at home.”

Richie stared at her, his face set, his eyes angry, “You m...m…my woman?”

“Yes...yes, Richie, I’m your woman, but...”

“N...n...no buts,” his voice rose and he slammed his glass down on the table.

Before she could protest, there was a commotion at the entrance to the barroom. Kathy, who was facing the door, cried out, “No! Oh, no!”

“Oh, yes!” Cordelia shouted. “Oh, yes indeed!” She stood in the doorway for a moment. She wore a long suede skirt that buttoned down the front, dark leather boots, and an open suede jacket over a white man-tailored shirt. Her thin mouth was a bright red slash, and her eyes were heavily made up. The men yelled and applauded. Someone shouted, “Hey, maybe we get two for the price of one!”

Cordelia laughed, “No, boys. I’m not the entertainment.”

“What are you then?” Wally asked.

“Mr. Stein and that super-stud Richie,” she pointed at Richie who stood up grinning and waving his arms. The men clapped and whistled. Cordelia waited. “As I was saying,” she crossed over to Stein’s table, “Mr. Stein and the stud invited me to be the mistress of ceremonies. I’m going to direct the entertainment!” She stood behind Kathy’s chair and quickly unclasped Kathy’s cape and, twirling it over her head with one hand, grabbed the silver chain with the other.

Kathy gripped the edge of the table shaking her head, “No...no...no,” she whispered.

Cordelia leaned over her, “Listen to me, you little whore. Last week Stein called me to meet with him and Richie. They were planning tonight’s party and wanted me to be in charge of it. I said I would on one condition.”

“The condition,” Stein interrupted, “was that we literally give Richie’s wife to Cordelia for the duration of the party. Of course, we thought that was a fine idea and agreed.”

Richie grunted and, staring across the table at Kathy, said, “You d...d...d…do what you’re fu...fu...fuckin’ told.”

“No,” Kathy said, turning away from him, “not Cordelia, I won’t, I won’t.”

Suddenly Abul appeared at the table. He handed Kathy a note. It read, “On your wedding night you made a pledge to obey your husband. I have come here to witness you honor that pledge.” The note was unsigned. Kathy felt her heart racing and, again, the hot downward flow and the swelling of her clitoris. She shut her eyes and fought to bring her breathing under control. Stein watched her carefully. When he thought she had recovered, he began to speak slowly and distinctly. “Richie has given you to Cordelia. For the next several hours you will do exactly what she orders you to do. You will not refuse. You will not object. Is that clear?”

It was a long time before Kathy answered. She looked into the darkness where she knew the Japanese was sitting. She nodded her head. “Yes, Mr. Stein, I understand.”

“And you agree?”

“I belong to Richie.”

“And for now, to Cordelia?”

“Yes, for now, to Cordelia.”

The men were getting restless. “Cut the fuckin’ conference. Let’s party!” someone yelled.

“Yeah, let’s party with Richie’s wife!”

Cordelia raised her arms calling for quiet, “Gentlemen, please...we aren’t going to party with Richie’s wife. Richie’s wife is the goddamn party!” The men laughed and cheered.

Cordelia tapped Kathy’s full glass of beer with a pointed fingernail. “Drink it,” she said, “all of it.” When Kathy had finished, Cordelia refilled the glass, “Again,” she said. Kathy had trouble, but she emptied the second glass.

The men watched and joked. “Yeah, loosen her up!”

“Chug-a-lug that Iron City, you beautiful bitch!”

“Ahhh, look at that sweet fuckin’ mouth!”

“And them tits. You can almost see right through her top.”

When Kathy put the second glass down, Cordelia tugged on the chain. “Stand up. The boys want to see your perky tits.” Stein pushed a low stool over to the base of the stage. Cordelia nodded. Kathy rose and Cordelia, holding the chain, led her to the stool, which would serve as a step up to the stage. “There,” Cordelia said, pointing to the stool. She unhooked the chain from Kathy’s collar. Still unsteady in the high heels, Kathy mounted the stage. Blushing furiously, she looked out at the men who were yelling and grabbing their crotches.

“Take it off!” Harley yelled.

“Yeah, make her strip!” Kathy recognized Wally’s voice.

“Right, a striptease,” Harry called out. “A little dance music.” He lifted a big boom box up onto the stage and turned it on. From the speakers came the low growl of a saxophone and the heavy beat of a bass drum, then the sultry voice of Shirley Horn singing, “Love for Sale”.

“You heard them,” Cordelia said. “You can dance. Briany says you’re the best. Give the boys what they want, a striptease.”

“Yeah, a fuckin’ striptease!” someone yelled.

Kathy looked down at Stein hoping he might take pity on her and stop this, but he shook his head. The men started to chant and clap. “Give them what they want,” Cordelia grinned up at her. Slowly, Kathy began to move to the beat, awkward in the heels. She was a good dancer, grace and rhythm came naturally to her. Often, alone in her house, she would dance just for the fun of it. She concentrated on the music trying to pretend she was by herself at home and safe.

“Let’s see them bare titties!” someone shouted.

“Yeah, strip!” Wally looked around at the excited men, “She can dance and strip. She did it for me in her goddamn house.”

“Take it off, you sweet motherfucker!”

Kathy glanced down at Cordelia who stood at the edge of the stage. Cordelia mouthed the word, “Strip”. Her hands shaking, Kathy fumbled with the buttons of her blouse. She knew the men would see that her nipples were hard. The color rose to her cheeks. When the last button had been unfastened, she stopped for a moment in the center of the stage. “Take it off, take it off!” the men were yelling. Tears welled in her eyes as, very slowly, she reached up to her shoulders and pushed the material back, letting it slide from her arms and drop behind her to the floor.

“Push them tits out, baby!”

“Keep movin, move that cute ass.” Kathy picked a spot on the far wall above their heads and tried to focus on it. She swayed her hips to the music and cupped her breasts with her hands. “That’s it, baby, shake them!”

“Yeah, jump down here and shake my dick!”

“Wheee, look at that. She painted her nipples! You do that just for us?”

Kathy was moving across the stage to the wailing saxophone, trying to hear nothing but the music, hoping desperately that this agonizing night would soon end. The sultry voice was singing, “appetizing young love for sale...love that’s fresh and still unspoiled.”

“Now, the skirt,” Wally yelled. “Take off the fuckin’ skirt!”

“Pussy...let’s see some pussy!” someone else shouted.

Once more, Kathy glanced down at Stein but Cordelia yelled, “Don’t look at him. You do what I say, and I’m saying strip.”

Not able to hold back the tears, Kathy began to unfasten the clasps at her waist. There were four, the last just a few inches below her crotch. Still moving back and forth across the front of the stage in time with the music, she started with that one. As she unhooked each clasp, the men pounded on their tables and cheered. Just when the final sad, mournful phrases of “Love for Sale” ended, Kathy’s skirt settled to the floor. She stopped and, brushing the tears from her cheeks, bowed her head. The men applauded and yelled.

“Look at that pretty shaved cunt!”

“She must of shaved her pussy hair so as to turn us on!”

“Them fuckin’ tears is just an act. The little bitch wants fucked.”

“Let’s see your rosy asshole.”

“Yeah, show us where old Richie shoves his puny prick!”

Kathy didn’t look up or move. Cordelia quickly handed Richie the chain and urged him to the stage. Grinning and slobbering, and dragging his left foot, he climbed onto the stage and clipped one end of the chain to Kathy’s collar. Kathy had not raised her head. “Tu...tu...turn around.” Kathy did as he ordered. “B...b...b...bend over.” Obediently Kathy placed her hands on her knees and bent over. Again the men whistled and shouted.

“Oh, shit, that is some lovely ass!”

“Look at them baby cheeks...smooth...round as apples.”

“Richie, you really been fuckin’ that sweet ass?”

Richie, still grinning foolishly, nodded his head, “All the fu...fu...fuckin’ time!”

“Hey, Richie, show us where you put it in!”

“Yeah, make her show her asshole.”

Richie jerked the chain, “Spread,” he ordered.

Despising herself, her hands trembling, she reached back and pulled her ass cheeks apart. Some of the men crowded up against the stage for a closer look. Her dance and exposing herself to them in this way had fired them up. Kathy could feel it. Her legs began to shake. She thought she might faint.

“N...n...nobody fu...fu...fucks her ass but me,” Richie said.

“Yeah, but what about that little baby-girl cunt?”

“And them juicy lips?”

“Hey, Richie, how about she wrap them lips around my stiff prick and suck it?”

Cordelia, returning Kathy’s cape, stepped up on the stool. “In good time, gentlemen, all in good time,” she laughed. She handed Kathy the cape. “Put this on,” she said. “Leave the other stuff where it is.” The cape fastened only at the neck. Kathy tried to hold the front together. “Don’t touch it,” Cordelia said in a loud voice. “The boys want to see your tits and your bald pussy. Right boys?”

“Yeah!” they yelled.

“Want to suck them nipples!”

“Fuck that tight cunt!”

“Get her down here. She got me so hot my nuts are ready to pop!”

“Hey, Richie, make her lick Harley’s monster balls!”

Kathy shot a terrified look at Richie who stood beside her still holding the chain. Cordelia stepped onto the stage lifting up her hand to quiet the men. “Patience, boys, patience,” she laughed. She turned to Kathy, “I bet doing you little dance made you nervous, right?”

Kathy bowed her head, “Yes,” she said.

“And you had two big glasses of beer, didn’t you?” Kathy nodded. “Well then,” Cordelia took the chain from Richie’s hand, “you would probably like to use the bathroom?”

To get away, even for a few minutes, from these drunken foul-mouthed animals would be a godsend. Kathy looked up, “Yes, Cordelia, please.”

“You have to piss, right?”

The color quickly rose to Kathy’s cheeks. “Yes...yes I do,” she said.

Cordelia smiled at her, then pointing to Wally she said, “Sir, would you be kind enough to hand us that empty potato chip bowl?”

Kathy’s eyes widened and she stepped back, “No! No, you can’t make me do that!” she cried.

Cordelia let go of the chain and, grabbing Kathy’s wrists, pulled her close. “Listen to me you little slut,” she spoke in a fierce whisper, “you are not to refuse or even object. Richie has told you that. Stein has told you that and, if I’m not mistaken, Mr. Satomi has told you that. You are to obey. Am I correct?”

Kathy couldn’t speak. She nodded and quickly looked away from Cordelia. Wally had brought a big stainless steel bowl to the edge of the stage. Richie took it and handed it to Cordelia. Holding the bowl up to the derisive cheers of the audience Cordelia shouted, “Now the little whore is going to make pee pee for us.” She turned to look at Kathy, “Isn’t that right, little whore?”

Again Kathy nodded. After placing the bowl at the edge of the stage, Cordelia took Richie’s arm and they both stepped down to the floor. The men had pushed several tables back and crowded around that part of the stage where the bowl had been placed. Her head bowed and her eyes lowered, Kathy straddled the bowl. The men had suddenly grown quiet. Her cheeks burning with shame, Kathy bent her knees to squat. Although the pressure to urinate had been strong, it seemed now she couldn’t. She strained. No one spoke or moved. She could feel the men staring at her shaved pussy. She shut her eyes and imagined herself in her own white tiled bathroom. She relaxed and the first trickle splashed into the bowl followed by a steady forceful stream. The men yelled and pounded each other and the stage.

“My God,” she thought, “I’m Katherine Ryan. I have a Masters Degree in comparative literature. I live in a lovely home, have fine clothes, intelligent friends. I’m from a wealthy highly respected family, my husband was handsome and considerate. We had the ideal marriage. How could it have come to this in just a few weeks? I have entered into a marriage with a demented psychopath. No, it isn’t even close to a marriage. I’ve surrendered myself to him, given myself to him, completely, unconditionally. Like a pet animal, I obey him. Like an animal, I wear a collar and am led about on a leash. I debase and degrade myself for the amusement of his friends. I submit to the hateful Cordelia. I strip on a stage in a low-life bar. I spread my ass cheeks for shouting men. I squat over a bowl and pee for them. I endure their obscenities and laughter. Now, like a trained dog, I wait for Cordelia’s next command. I can feel the heat and stickiness between my legs. The men can see it. In a dark corner of the room, Mr. Satomi must also be aware.”

“You can get up now,” Cordelia said. Kathy stood, her trembling legs still straddling the bowl. “Let’s have a round of applause for the little whore!” Cordelia shouted. The men clapped and cheered.

“She got us all worked up so what’s she gonna do about that?” someone yelled.

“Yeah, how about you tell her to lay down and we take turns?”

Kathy looked at Cordelia, “Please, please, Cordelia, I’m begging you, please don’t let them...”

“There, there,” Cordelia said, “a lot depends on how good you do me.”

Kathy stepped back, “I...I...don’t....”

“Yes, you do,” Cordelia insisted. She led Kathy back several steps so the men could not hear. “I want you to ask to be allowed to lick my cunt,” Cordelia whispered. Kathy shook her head. “You are to go up to the edge of the stage and announce that you want very much to pleasure me...to pleasure me right here for their enjoyment.”

“I...I...can’t.”

Cordelia grabbed Kathy’s arms, her fingernails digging into the flesh, “Listen to me, you bitch. Those men out there are half drunk and they want to fuck you. All that’s between you and a savage gang rape is me. Now, what’s it to be?”

Kathy looked away, “I’ll do what you want,” she said. Cordelia led her to the edge of the stage. Someone had removed the bowl. The men were drinking at the tables. They stared up at Kathy. She could see the lust and the anger in their eyes. They would not hesitate to rape her, she was sure. She looked out over their heads fighting the impulse to cover her exposed pussy with her hands. She started to speak, “I...I...want very much...”

“Louder! We can’t hear,” someone yelled.

Kathy took a deep breath and began once more, “I...I want very much to...to...satisfy Cordelia.”

“What?” someone asked.

“To...to...satisfy Cordelia...to please her.” Kathy felt her cheeks burning with shame.

“You mean eat her pussy?”

“Yes,” Kathy said.

“We watch you?”

“Yes, you watch.”

“You make her come?”

“I...I’ll try.”

Cordelia pointed to a leather sling-back chair by the far wall. Harry quickly brought it to the center of the stage. “Side view or front view?” Cordelia asked, laughing.

“Front!” several men called.

“Yeah,” Harley said, “while she’s sucking your cunt we want to look at her sweet ass.” The men were shouting and laughing again.

Cordelia sat back in the chair and, sliding her hips forward, pulled her skirt up until the black patch of pubic hair appeared between her skinny legs. She crooked a finger toward Kathy and pointed to the floor between her parted thighs. Once more, the tears welled up in Kathy’s eyes. “Take off the cape,” Cordelia said. “They want to see your ass.” Kathy opened the clasp at her neck and the cape dropped to the floor. The men cheered. Wearing only the spike heels and the collar, Kathy crossed to stand before Cordelia. “Kneel,” Cordelia said. The men were silent again as Kathy got to her knees. She looked up and could see the anger and hatred in Cordelia’s eyes. “Ask for it,” Cordelia ordered. “Say please.”

“Please,” Kathy began in a soft voice, “let me...let me...satisfy you.”

“Can’t hear!” someone yelled.

“Again,” Cordelia said, “but speak up and use the words they like. Say lick, and cunt, and come, and don’t forget to say please. Can you remember all that?”

Kathy nodded. She bowed her head and shut her eyes. “Please...please,” she paused and started again. “Please let me lick your...your cunt until you...until you come.”

“Lift your ass up and wiggle it for the boys,” Cordelia demanded. Kathy crouched down until her mouth was almost touching Cordelia’s musky slit. She bent her back and raised her hips. “Tease them,” Cordelia hissed. Kathy shook her ass. The men laughed and shouted obscenities. Cordelia pushed Kathy’s head tight against her gaping cunt. Kathy had never felt so ashamed, so degraded, so terribly weak. But she also felt the warm secretions oozing from her vagina and knew that the men could see how wet she was becoming.

With the fingers of one hand, Cordelia parted her pussy lips. With her other hand she grabbed Kathy’s hair jerking her head back so that Kathy had to look up at her. “I can’t tell you how much I enjoy seeing you like this...the former Mrs. Ryan, here in a filthy bar on her pretty knees sucking my cunt with her pretty little mouth. Wiggle your ass!” Cordelia grinned. “Now, tell me...tell me,” Cordelia whispered fiercely, “tell me that’s where you belong, down there on your knees wanting to service my cunt...say it!”

Kathy fought the impulse to rise up and put her hands around Cordelia’s scrawny neck and twist until she could feel the small bones break. Instead, still looking up at the hideous face that mocked her, she said, “This is where I belong, Cordelia, on my knees wanting to service your...your...cunt.”

Cordelia smiled and released her grip on Kathy’s hair. “Then do it, little whore. And don’t forget to shake your ass for the boys.” She spread her legs wider and pulled Kathy’s head down between them. Soon, Kathy’s face was wet with Cordelia’s juices. Behind her, she could hear the men yelling as she wiggled her hips.

“Hey, Richie, you fuck that beautiful ass?” someone shouted.

“You come in her ass, Richie?”

“Fu...fu...fuckin’ right,” Richie stuttered, “th...th...that ass b...b...b...belongs to...to me.”

“She like your prick in her tight ass, Richie?”

“Sh...sh...she b...b...begs for it.” Richie could see that the men believed him. He knew that for the first time in his life he had something they wanted. He knocked down a shot of whiskey and it felt good. The woman up there on the stage was his. He knew it was true. He knew it that night right after the wedding. She had looked across at him and he knew it. She would do anything he told her to do. He’d show these men who’s woman she was. He would make her beg him to fuck her ass tonight. He’d make her beg him from right up there on the stage. Then, he would do it and they would be down here looking up at him as he shoved his stiff dick into her little asshole. They all wanted what was his.

Kathy shut out the sounds of the men’s catcalls and laughter. She concentrated on trying to make Cordelia come. She felt that her ordeal would be over when Cordelia had an orgasm. Unlike Stella’s pussy, Cordelia’s tasted sour and her juices were watery. She smelled fetid as if she hadn’t bathed. Kathy felt nauseous.

Cordelia thrust her pelvis forward and held Kathy’s head tight against it. “Lick, little whore, lick. Tongue fuck me till I come!” she shouted. The men cheered and applauded. Cordelia began to moan and cry out as she gyrated her hips and bucked, still pressing Kathy’s face into her sharp pelvic bone. Finally, she fell back releasing Kathy, exhausted, dropping her arms over the sides of the chair. Kathy, still on her knees, backed away. Her face was covered with Cordelia’s come and her lips were swollen and bruised. She tried to stand, but her legs would not support her. She collapsed and lay naked on the stage, sobbing.

Stein gestured to the black man, Cliff, who jumped onto the stage and lifted Kathy up in his arms. “Follow me,” Cordelia directed and, picking up the cape, led Cliff out into the bar then to the ladies’ room. Cliff stayed far enough behind Cordelia so that she couldn’t hear him whisper to Kathy, “I don’t know why you let them do these things. Maybe they got something on you?” Kathy didn’t answer. “Look,” Cliff continued, “if you want out of here just let me know. Even later, just say my name, ‘Cliff’, and you’ll be outside and on your way home in two minutes. I carry a razor, and they know not to mess with me. You understand?” Kathy nodded.

Inside the ladies’ room, Cliff lowered her gently to a chair that faced a dirty sink and mirror. “You okay now?” Cliff asked.

“Yes,” Kathy said looking up at him and trying to smile, “I’m okay. Thank you very much.”

“You can go now,” Cordelia held the door open for Cliff. “We have things to do here.” Kathy had noticed a large leather handbag on the shelf under the mirror. Cordelia took a washcloth, soap, and several other items from it. “Here,” she said, handing Kathy the cloth and soap, “clean up. You look like shit.”

After Kathy had washed and dried her face, Cordelia placed on the shelf a new lipstick, gloss, mascara, eye shadow, and rouge. Kathy shook her head, “No,” she said, “no more. I’ve had enough.” She turned away from the mirror and from Cordelia. “I won’t subject myself again to those mindless drunks out there. I hate them. I hate Richie and Stein. Most of all, I hate you Cordelia!” She stood up, grabbed the cape and fastened it around her neck. “I’m leaving,” she said.

Cordelia quickly reached into her handbag and withdrew a small envelope. “Before you go, I suggest you read this.” Kathy’s first impulse was to ignore it. She was sure it would be another trap. But she was also determined to call for Cliff’s help and walk out, go home, be free of them all. She sat down, opened the envelope, unfolded the typewritten page and, noting that it was signed by the single letter “S” read:

“I have instructed that you receive this if at any time during your trial you showed signs of terminating the vow of obedience you made to your husband. You are obviously considering such a betrayal or you would not have been given this note.

I remind you that it was inconvenient for me to attend your wedding. It is even more inconvenient to be here tonight. If you break your vow of obedience, you not only dishonor your marriage contract you dishonor and disappoint me as well. However, if you truly wish to leave this place, you may go immediately. I guarantee your safety. No one will harm you now or in the future. I will no longer have the slightest interest in you. Should you decide to stay and complete this second trial, you will apologize to the woman for anything you may have said or done. You will ask her forgiveness. You will promise to do whatever she demands. She and your husband have received their orders from Stein. Stein has been instructed by me. Should you perform successfully tonight there will be a third trial. After that...we will see. Now, go or stay. The choice is yours.”

First Cliff and now the powerful Japanese. Within three minutes she had been given two opportunities to leave and, once again, the choice was hers. Kathy’s hands trembled as she folded the note and slid it back into its envelope. She looked up at Cordelia. “I’m very sorry for what I was about to do. Please forgive me.” Cordelia slapped the upturned face so hard Kathy’s head snapped back and she cried out. “I’m sorry,” she repeated, trying to keep from trembling, “please, Cordelia, please...I’ll do what you say. I...I...belong to you just as I belong to Richie.”

“You loved being on your knees between my legs licking my cunt?”

“Yes, Cordelia, I loved being on my knees between your legs. I loved licking your cunt. I’m truly sorry for the things I said.”

“You should be. Now, I want you paint your face like the little whore you are,” Cordelia said, handing Kathy the lipstick. It was plum colored, a very dark red. “Put it on thick and use plenty of that gloss. I want you to look like a slut, like a cheap cocksucking slut. Do you understand?”

“Yes, I understand.” Kathy carefully applied the lipstick, the gloss, the black mascara and the blue eye shadow.

“Rouge your nipples, rub it in and use lots of it,” Cordelia instructed. “Hurry up. The men will be getting pissed off.” Kathy stared at the image in the mirror. The face that looked back at her was not her own. She looked like a painted slut, beautiful, but a slut nonetheless. Her swollen lips were exaggerated, the dark color shining with oily gloss. The heavy mascara and eye shadow contrasted sharply with her pale cheeks. Her rouged nipples seemed much larger and were pointed and hard. Cordelia smiled, “The little whore’s hot, isn’t she?”

“Yes,” Kathy said, looking away from the mirror.

“And the little whore is going to do exactly what she’s told?”

“Yes, yes, I will.”

“Good. Get up. It’s time for Act Two,” Cordelia said. She snapped the leash to Kathy's collar and led her out into the main room.