Free The Facility by Charles Arnold Page A

You are anxious to press your lips to them...anxious to taste. Isn’t that true, Mrs. Ryan?”
    It was the fear of Swart’s whip that drove her to such a degrading act earlier. The fear of the whip coupled with the promise of another orgasm. Now, there was nothing except the cameras recording the scene for Satomi, and the thought of her sister-in-law Mary Margaret being brought to this horrible place.
    “Speak up, Mrs. Ryan, and not with a retarded ‘yes’.”
    “I wish to show you my respect in the accepted way.”
    “On your knees, Mrs. Ryan. Crawl. I like to see the educated American woman crawl to me. I like knowing that she is going to bow down and kiss my feet. The high and mighty American woman is going to lower her head and press her lips to the feet of Abul. Yes, the thought of that pleases me.”
    In the tight dress, Kathy had difficulty getting to her knees. Slowly she crawled toward Abul’s extended feet. When she reached him, she closed her eyes and with closed lips, touched her mouth to his left foot. “Not good enough,” he said. “Your tongue, Mrs. Ryan, your tongue.”
    Again she bent down to his foot and, parting her lips, touched her tongue to it. Quickly she turned to his right foot and repeated her act of servitude. “It was not quite what you promised this afternoon, but I will forgive because we are alone. In the presence of others, Mrs. Ryan, what is the proper way?”
    She closed her eyes, feeling a wave of nausea wash over her, “I...I...am to kiss between your first and second toe and to push my tongue between them,” she said.
    “That is correct,” he replied. “See that you don’t forget.” He kept her kneeling for several minutes while looking down at her and stroking his cock. “It pleases me to see the rich, arrogant Mrs. Ryan here in my quarters naked under her gown. It pleases me to feel her lips on my feet.” He drained his glass and handed it to her. “It will please me to watch the woman who once ordered me out of her house get off her knees and hurry to serve me. Get up, Mrs. Ryan, quickly, and pour me another drink. You will find the liquor on the table behind the couch. Ice, a little water and bourbon. Quickly, Mrs. Ryan, run to serve me.”
    Painfully, she stood and hurried as fast as she could in the heels. She made his drink as he had ordered. As she came around the table to hand it to him, he grabbed her. “I want you to drink it,” he said, pulling her down onto his lap. The stinging soreness of the welts she’d received made her gasp. He smiled. “I want you to sit here and drink it while I feel your tits.” He lifted her hand and held the drink to her lips. She drank. “Do you want me to feel your tits, Mrs. Ryan?”
    Looking into the glass, she said, “Yes.” He squeezed her wrist. “I mean, yes, Master. I would like you to feel my...my breasts.” He ran both hands over the satin gown and cupped her breasts, rolling her nipples between his thumb and forefinger. She flinched and made a little sound.
    “My friend, Narimov, would like to see his dwarf use the riding crop on your tits.” He pulled the gown off her shoulders and pushed it down to her waist. His large calloused hands kneaded her small breasts. He bent his head to take one of her distended nipples in his mouth. He bit it, causing her to cry out and try to stand. He held her on his lap and moved his face close to hers. She could smell his rancid breath and the brown stubs of his rotting teeth. His mouth was wet with spittle. His black heavy-lidded eyes burned into her. “The riding crop will mark them,” he said.
    “Please, no,” she felt the tears well up. She knew it was no idle threat. He and Narimov had taken great pleasure in watching the dwarf whip her.
    “I haven’t given him an answer. What I tell him will depend on how hard you try to please me tonight.”
    “I will,” she whispered. “I’ll try...please let me try. But I beg you... not the whip. Not like