The Facility (30 page)

Kathy bowed her head for a moment, then slowly raised it and looked squarely at Abul, “The guests of Abul should know that their host murdered my husband. Abul poisoned the meal and Abul arranged for it to be served to my husband on the plane.”

“Ahh!” Abul shouted. “That is right. I took from Mrs. Ryan the one person she loved most in the world. It gave me much pleasure to do it , because I knew his wife would become mine. And so she has. You are mine, Mrs. Ryan, is that not true?”

“Yes, I am yours.”

“And you wanted it that way. You wanted to belong to Abul?”

Kathy was silent for a moment. Then, bowing her head again she said quietly, “Yes, I wanted to belong to Abul.”

“That brings us to another test, Mrs. Ryan. Do you remember the last gift your loving husband gave you?”

Kathy thought hard. It seemed so long ago. After a few moments it came back to her. “On the night before he left on his last trip he gave me a bottle of my favorite perfume, Chanel.” She tried to force the happy memory of that evening from her mind.

“Move back a few feet from the edge of the stage, Mrs. Ryan,” Abul instructed. After she had pushed herself back, Miko appeared at her side carrying a shallow cast iron bowl. Behind Miko, Mi Jong held a beautiful wooden box. As Miko placed the bowl in front of her, Kathy saw that it contained a steel hammer and a pair of scissors. As a spotlight came up over their heads, Miko removed the scissors. Taking hold of Kathy’s gown where her left nipple protruded, Miko cut a hole that exposed the smooth pink nipple and the aureole. She did the same thing to bare Kathy’s right nipple.

“I have always thought,” Abul spoke from the darkness, “that Mrs. Ryan’s nipples are one of her best features. As you can see, they are perfectly formed, quite long, a pleasing shade of pink, and uncommonly smooth. They also respond quickly and decisively to the slightest stimulation.” The guests murmured their agreement. Mi Jong handed Miko the box she had been carrying. Miko knelt beside Kathy and took from the wooden box a smaller one made of cardboard. She handed this to Kathy. “Open it, Mrs. Ryan,” Abul said.

Lifting the lid off, Kathy cried out.

“Do you recognize it?” Abul asked.

“It’s...it’s...Jeff’s gift. It’s his last gift to me...the perfume. But how...?”

“Miko took it from your house when you invited us there. Look under the perfume.” From beneath the bottle Kathy took the note Jeff had included. “Read it to us,” Abul ordered.

Kathy’s voice shook and the tears formed and spilled down her cheeks.
“To my beautiful wife with all of my love forever and ever...your Jeff.”

“A sentimental moment, yes, Mrs. Ryan?” Kathy could not speak. “Well, now, the man who murdered your husband Jeff, the man whose woman you have become, also has a gift for you.” Miko took the perfume from Kathy and handed her a small wide mouthed jar that was warm to the touch and contained, as Kathy knew it would, several ounces of Abul’s urine and the garbage. A thinner vial was filled with his urine. In the wooden box, she saw a plastic stirrer and a small brush.

“You have a choice, Mrs. Ryan.” Abul spoke slowly and clearly. “You may anoint your nipples with the perfume your loving husband gave you. Then, you may drop the container of my urine into the bowl and hit it with the hammer.” He paused to let his words sink in. “Or, Mrs. Ryan, you can put your late husband’s note in the bowl, sprinkle it with my urine, place his gift on top of the note, and take up the hammer to smash this final token of his affection.” He waited until Kathy lifted her head to stare across at him. “Make your choice freely.” Kathy quickly looked at Mr. Satomi but he was still as implacable as ever. “If you choose to destroy your husband’s gift,” Abul continued, “you will show your respect for me by adding a few drops of the urine to the sample of nasty smelling garbage you now hold in your hand. Stir it to a fine paste. Then, honor me once more by brushing the mixture on to your nipples.” Kathy glanced at the hammer. She wanted to rush off the stage and bury it in Abul’s head. She wanted to strike him over and over, until his head was nothing but grisly pulp.

Miko was still kneeling beside Kathy. In one hand Miko held the perfume and Jeff’s last note. In the other she held the jar and the vial. Kathy took both from the Japanese woman. Miko removed the brush and the stirring rod from the bowl along with the hammer that she placed next to it. In her left hand Kathy held the jar with Abul’s urine and the nasty smelling garbage. In her right was Jeff’s gift and card. “Choose, Mrs. Ryan,” Abul ordered.

Kathy put the dark container on the floor. Carefully she placed Jeff’s note in the bowl and with a shaking hand sprinkled some of Abul’s yellow piss over it. Then she placed the bottle of perfume in the bowl and sat looking down at it for a moment before taking up the hammer. With a quick blow she shattered the glass. Immediately the sweet scent of Chanel drifted through the room.

“And now, Mrs. Ryan, do you wish to honor me by painting your nipples with a mixture of my piss and garbage?” The guests were absolutely silent. No one even moved.

“Yes, Master Abul. You have graciously permitted me to choose. I have chosen.”

“You see that this nasty garbage is almost black. Will you make the mixture so that it reflects the light? Will you make it wet? Make the black badges shine?”

“I will do my best to please you.” She took up the container and the plastic rod. Miko gave her the vial of urine. Kathy added a few drops and stirred. She added a few drops more and mixed them in. Miko handed her the fine brush. Slowly, and taking great care, she painted her pink aureoles and nipples. The foul smell of the nasty garbage and urine caused her to shudder even as she felt the cum ooze from her vagina and sensed the swelling of her clitoris.

“Are you aroused now, Mrs. Ryan? Does the sight and smell of my urine excite you?”

“Yes, I am aroused.”

“Prove that it has aroused you, Mrs. Ryan. Show us that my urine makes you hotter than your husband’s kisses ever did.”

She crawled to the very edge of the stage and for the third time lifted her gown and leaned back. As she did so her bare nipples were thrust forward. The wet black mixture gleamed under the lights. When she parted her vaginal lips they observed the thick milky secretions oozing from her vagina. “Look at her!” Abul cried. “I killed her husband. I planned his death. I did the murder!” Kathy closed her eyes. Her stomach churned. She desperately wanted to strike him. Abul noticed how agitated she had become and pressed further. “Look, my friends,” he continued waving his hand at her, “the American widow who claims to still love her dead husband adorns her breasts with the urine of her husband’s murderer.” He paused. “The sight and smell of Abul’s urine almost makes her cum. Is that not right, Mrs. Ryan? Say it, say ‘the sight and smell of the urine of the man who...” He left the sentence for her to complete.

“Yes,” she whispered loud enough for them to hear, “what you say is true. You and your guests can see how wet I’ve become and know that it’s true. The sight and smell of your...of your urine...of the urine of the man who murdered my husband...it it...excites me...excites me.”

“Crawl down here to me again, Mrs. Ryan.” When she again knelt before him he said, “Raise your head. Look at me.” Trying to keep the revulsion from showing in her eyes, she did as he commanded. “Do you recall what you once refused to do for me?”

“Yes,” she said. “I remember.”

“As do I, Mrs. Ryan. There is another reason why I have not bathed during the past five days. There is a dark place, Mrs. Ryan, where it gives me great pleasure to feel your kisses. You certainly know where that place is?”

“In the...in the...” She couldn’t finish.

“In the sweaty crack of your Master’s ass, Mrs. Ryan,” he sneered. “In the place you once refused to honor. But you’re not going to refuse a second time, are you Mrs. Ryan?”

She felt the gorge rising to her throat and swallowed hard. “No, I won’t refuse.”

“In fact, Mrs. Ryan, you will ask for permission to lick my crack. You will beg to touch your lips to it. Suck at it. Push your tongue into it. Yes?”

“Yes.”

“We want to hear you say the words, hear you beg.”

“Please, Master,” Kathy squeezed her eyes tightly shut, “allow me to honor you there. Allow me to kiss it, to lick it.”

“And?” Abul prompted.

“And let me touch my lips to...to. Please, my Master, let me push my tongue into your anal opening.”

“We will be watching and listening carefully. We want to see and hear the devotion you have spoken of. Complete and unconditional devotion, I believe you said. Not clever pretense, Mrs. Ryan, but devotion... devotion that is obvious and real.”

Kathy knew this would be the deciding test. She realized that her conditioning over the bowl containing his urine with the garbage was working in her favor. The odor of her black nipples was arousing her, but that would not be nearly enough. Satomi was perceptive as were the others. Abul was determined to make her fail. If, at the close of the night, Mr. Satomi awarded her to Abul she would not live to celebrate the end of her contract.

“Please, Master,” she looked up at him, “I have destroyed my husband’s last gift. I have, as you instructed, prepared this black mixture of your...of your urine. I display it proudly on my breasts. It is, as you wished, wet and it shines. I have shown you how much it excites me to honor you in this way.”

“Obscene!” one of the women shouted, “She is obscene!”

Kathy ignored the outburst. “On my knees, Master, I now beg for your permission to...to prove my absolute and unconditional devotion.” Abul signaled to Miko and Mi Jong, who hurried from the stage. As he stood, they quickly lifted up the back of his caftan and fastened it above his waist.

“My God, Abul,” Narimov said, laughing “have you no shame?”

“None at all,” Abul replied, bending over and placing his hands on the chair. He presented his dark, hairy ass to the kneeling Kathy. “Use your hands, Mrs. Ryan, to help you find the center you are so eager to honor.”

“Thank you, Master,” she said. Leaning forward, she spread the cheeks of his pimpled ass. The hot stench washed over her. A trickle of sweat ran down his crack. She felt as if she might vomit.

Abul turned his head to look back at her. “I murdered your husband, Mrs. Ryan,” he said. “Show these guests that you are now my woman.”

She spread his cheeks wider apart and buried her head between them. She licked along the length of his crack. She whimpered as she pressed the flat of her tongue against the base of his scrotum and licked up to his hole. Never drawing back, she licked again and again until his crack dripped with her saliva.

Again, Abul turned to speak to her, “He suffered, Mrs. Ryan. I made sure of that.” She tried not to hear him. “Who are you, Mrs. Ryan?” his voice rose.

She stopped licking for only the moment it took to answer. “I am your woman.”

“Where do you belong?” He was angry now.

“Here, on my knees, serving you in this way.” She touched the foul smelling rim of his anal opening with the tip of her tongue.

“Not just yet,” he said. “First, I want you to look at it.” Pushing his ass cheeks even further apart, she stared at the purple-brown wrinkled opening that glistened with moisture. As she watched, it seemed to pulse, widening slightly and closing. “Tell me, Mrs. Ryan, do you find what you are looking at more exciting than your husband’s mouth?”

“Yes,” she whispered.

“What do you want to do, Mrs. Ryan?”

“This,” she said, and groaned as she pressed her lips hard against the fetid rim and drove her tongue into his hole. She drew back, her tongue still protruding from between her wet lips like a small pink cock. She stared as if hypnotized, at his opening, which pulsed more rapidly now.

“I remind you, again, Mrs. Ryan, your husband’s death was painful...very painful because I wanted him to suffer.”

“Yes,” she said, “but I belong to you now.” Quickly, she moved forward to jab her tongue in and out of his hole. She continued to whimper and groan. Her fingernails dug into his ass cheeks. Violently spinning around, he shoved her away. She fell backward, sprawling on the floor. “What kind of woman would suck at the dirty hole of the man who killed her husband?” he shouted.

It took her a moment to get her breath. “A woman like me. A woman whose only wish is to belong to you,” she whispered so that they all could hear. Abul’s face reddened. He motioned to Miko, who unhooked his caftan and unfolded it until it once more covered his ass and legs. He sat back in his chair and glared down at Kathy who had again gotten to her knees and knelt at his feet, her head bowed.

“Look up,” he said. She raised her head and saw the hard glitter of his eyes behind the mask. Her chin, nose, and cheeks were wet, her lipstick gone, and the mascara had run. Still, her skin was almost luminous, her upturned face lovely.

“So, you enjoyed that, did you? You took pleasure in licking the ass crack of the man who killed your husband?”

“My feelings are of no consequence, Master. Even the fact that you took my husband from me does not matter now. That you made his death a painful one was not necessary, but...but...it is not my place to question your actions. My place is here, on my knees before you. If it pleases you to have me lick your crack, I will do so for as long as you wish.” She looked down at his feet and, tentatively, reached out her hand to gently touch them. Looking back up at him she said, “If, Master Abul, it gives you pleasure to feel my lips pressed against the rim of your anal opening and feel my tongue in your passage, I will be honored to do that too, as often as you wish. I am here only to give you pleasure.” She saw that his face was dark with anger. He had not expected a response like this.