Chapter 3

Courage is a virtue highly praised by people who sit in the comfort and safety of their homes. The same people like the spirit of a survivor. In real life, however, doesn't the one often exclude the other?

Juliana woke up feeling broken. Her head ached and all her muscles felt as if she'd just done the Olympic Decathlon. She stretched her limbs, wincing softly. She was naked under a satin sheet.

Through a haze she remembered being scooped up at the dining table by the butler, last night, and carried in his arms through chilly corridors. She must have fainted from the massive climax that had swallowed her. She didn't remember having stripped before going to bed. And now she didn't want to remember.

"Good morning, Mrs. Austin."

The voice was the butler's. His knocking on the door must have woken her. He stood at the foot of the ancient poster bed, carrying a tray. She saw a teapot, triangles of toasted bread and a silver dome that he lifted off a plate. The aroma of eggs and bacon reached her nostrils; she felt a pang of hunger in the pit of her stomach.

"Good morning, John," she said, blushing as she imagined the intimacy of him undressing her last night. She sat up, holding on to the sheet to cover her chest.

John put her breakfast on an old fashioned folding table that he set in front of her. She avoided his eyes.

"Thank you, John," she said. "It looks delicious."

He poured her tea. She picked up a piece of toast and spread some scrambled egg on it. It tasted heavenly.

The butler smiled before turning away. She'd never seen him doing that.

"John," she called out before he reached the door. He turned towards her.

"Ma'am," he said, his eyebrows raised.

"Thank you for taking such good care of me." She hated the rising glow of another blush.

"It was my job," he said. "And also my pleasure."

"John?" He once more checked his departure.

"Ma'am?"

"What has he planned for me today?" His smile shrank until there was only a thin line.

"I am not privy of Dr. Charrier's plans, Ma'am," he said. "I am the butler." And he left.

After eating the last crumb of the delicious breakfast, Juliana showered. She returned to the bedroom wearing the fluffy white robe she found.

The only item in her closet was a short, baby blue dress. It was thin and felt like cotton. Buttons ran from its collar to its hem. On the bottom of the closet stood a pair of sandals. The heels were taller than she'd ever worn.

She searched the drawers for underwear. All she found was a pair of string-like panties. She sighed, stepping into them. They felt tight and left tufts of pubic hair uncovered. She put on the dress, closing all the buttons. Would she ever get used to the free movement of her breasts? She pulled the irritating fabric away from her nipples.

Sitting down at the make-up table, Juliana picked up a brush. Pulling it through her short, tangled hair, she watched her eyes in the mirror. They looked tired and puffed. Remembering the heavily made up face of the big-breasted dancer, last night, she took stock of the table. Was she supposed to use all this: the powders and the shadows, the lipsticks and the eyeliners? There were puffs and sponges and an array of soft brushes. She also saw a number of items she didn't even know the names of.

Her attention was diverted by a soft knock on her door. It was the small Asian girl that had done her hair and nails the day before. She looked like a porcelain doll.

"You dress already," the girl said, frowning.

"Yes," Juliana responded, laying her hands on her chest. "I thought ... I found it in the closet ... I mean the dress, I..." She babbled. She wondered why. Why was she always on the defensive in here? The woman smiled.

"Is alrigh," she said with her singsong accent. "But now you take it off again, please."

The tiny woman walked past her to the bathroom, leaving a sweet cloud of perfume in her wake. Juliana heard taps being opened and water gushing into the tub. She stood undecided. Her fingers were at her collar, touching the uppermost button.

"You undress now!" the woman insisted from the door. "I have no all day." Juliana's fingers undid the first button and stopped. Why hesitate? After all, the girl was a woman, wasn't she? No need to be shy.

The second button popped from its tiny slit, followed by the third and fourth. There were so many.

After the fifth the fabric yielded, showing off the soft curve of her modest breast. She stopped, taking a deep breath. Being brought up to not even dare look at oneself wasn't something that disappeared overnight. With Alec she'd undressed in the bathroom.

One hand held the gap closed while the other lingered at the next button. Juliana knew she was being silly. After what happened yesterday, every try at modesty was ludicrous, wasn't it? She'd spread her naked thighs wide, showing off her most intimate parts; a butler had undressed her. And now she was shy? Four more buttons went, then another three until she reached the hem. She slowly straightened her back, letting the two halves fall apart.

The little Asian clapped her doll's hands.

"Beautiful!" she said, smiling her pearly teeth bare. Juliana smiled. She knew she blushed like crazy. She didn't care. Shrugging her shoulders, she let the thin cotton slide off her body.

"What is your name?" she asked the girl. "I'm Juliana."

The girl said she was Mei. Then she waved Juliana closer and into the bathroom. Clouds of fragrant steam welcomed them. When Juliana walked over to the bathtub, Mei clacked her tongue, pointing at the white cotton thong. She giggled and so did Juliana as she pushed her thumbs into the elastic band and slid the panties down.

"So much hair," Mei said, shaking her head left and right. "No good. No beautiful."

Juliana looked down. She was a natural blonde. The hair on her mound and vagina was thick and curly. She had no thoughts about it being beautiful or not. It was just there, ever since she grew up. It was like her eyebrows – and her armpits.

Mei clacked her tongue again, frowning as she lifted one of Juliana's arms.

"You in water," she said. "I come back."

Mountains of foam covered the scalding water. Juliana sank down very slowly, an inch at the time. When her ass cheeks touched the water and she shied up again with a soft squeal, she heard the rumbling laughter of a male voice. Crying out, she tried to jump out of the tub and run. But two strong hands grabbed her, and wrestled her down into the splashing water.

"You stay down, Mrs. Austin," the voice said. Through the clouds she saw the shape of Dr. Charrier. He wore a white bathrobe, soaked with water from their little struggle. He let go of her arms. She sank deeper, covered with suds, and panting.

"No," she said. "No, no, no." He chuckled yet again.

"Oh yes, darling," he said. "So very yes." He straightened up and walked over to a bench that stood against the tiled wall. There he sat down facing her, knees wide and big hands resting on them. Like one of those Japanese wrestlers, she thought. Sommo, Summo...

"Now," he went on, "when sweet Mei returns, you do exactly what she tells you, understood? Exactly."

She just stared and nodded. Moist heat soaked her skin. She felt dizzy.

Mei ignored the doctor when she returned. She carried a tray; Juliana couldn't see what was on it. The girl set the tray on a commode. Then she walked over to the tub, smiling and nodding.

"You rise, please," she said. The girl stood at the foot of the tub, blocking the doctor's view for now. But Juliana knew what he would see, the moment she'd step aside.

"Do I have to?" she asked, hating the childish whine in her voice. Mei just smiled and nodded again.

"Have no all day," she said.

Juliana rose from the water, feeling tufts of foam slide down her body. The chill of the air made her shiver. She put one arm over her breasts and slid a hand between her thighs. Mei once more clacked her tongue.

"Won't do at all," she said, shaking her head. She walked over to the tray, leaving Juliana exposed to the doctor's gaze. She closed her eyes in a childish effort to wish him away. He chuckled.

Juliana felt soft fingers touch her hand where it covered her crotch. They closed around her wrist and pulled.

"You do as told, please," Mei's voice said. She stopped resisting the hand.

"Now put one foot on side of bath."

Opening her eyes, Juliana saw the doctor sit right across from her. A strange new feeling replaced her shame. The man didn't laugh, she saw, or even smile. His eyes were glued to her crotch. His mouth hung partly open.

Juliana didn't see a violent, confident man at all. What she saw, if just for a glimpse, was an overgrown schoolboy, obsessed by what existed between her thighs.

Maybe it was the way the man looked. Or maybe it was just a deeply rooted urge to survive – an urge handed down to her by generations of stubborn farmers. Whatever it might be, it caused a cool, almost deliberate resolution to conquer her panic. She wasn't here for herself; she was here on a mission. She would do anything to reach that goal – anything. There were important things, and then there was this insignificant fluff between her thighs. There was life and death, and then there was this schoolboy drooling over her.

Spreading her thighs wider, she searched for the doctor's eyes. When he at last looked up from her crotch, she held his gaze until he looked away. He sneered, but she knew it was just a cover up.

"We ought to call you Kate Bush, Mrs. Austin," he mocked. His laugh was way too loud.

Juliana felt Mei's soft hand on her thigh, pushing her open wider. She looked down and watched a shining pair of scissors snap away at her pubic hair.

The Asian girl muttered while manipulating Juliana's skin to reach every niche and cranny. She handed the lump of hair over to the doctor, who studied it before bringing it to his nose. Juliana turned her head away, rolling her eyes. Then she felt a soft, moist mop against her skin: a brush smeared white lather all over her clipped mound, her labia, and between her crack. In a flash Juliana recalled the crotch of the big-breasted girl from yesterday – pink and bare like a baby's.

"Stand still," Mei said. "Absolutely still now." Juliana closed her eyes again. She didn't move.

The tiny woman was good. Juliana hardly felt the blade as it scratched away on her skin. A hand grabbed her left ass cheek first, and then the right, opening her wider to allow the razor to clean her crack. The hands must be the doctor's. His hot breath made her skin crawl. But she fought her disgust and anger until her numb coolness returned. Her shame was unimportant; she had to survive.

A warm, fluffy towel rubbed the surplus of lather away, and then soft hands oiled her skin deeply, her mound as well as the insides of her labia – and her clitoris. Fingers even entered her anus, making her cry out.

Little circles of pleasure radiated from the spots the girl rubbed. Slowly but surely Juliana felt how her body gave in yet again – her knees trembled. But the hands stopped. Juliana shook her head to chase away the sweet, warm dizziness. She looked around; the doctor had left.

"Arm pits now," the Asian girl said, waving the brush.

If humiliation were a sword, it would have two edges. Firstly there would be the deep-cutting edge of the actual degradation. But secondly, and maybe even more degrading, would be the knowledge that you participated.

When Juliana walked into the lounge, the murmur of conversation quieted down. She knew people were watching her, and it made a pink blush creep out of her white lace collar. A life of being invisible doesn't really prepare one for the limelight. She knew she looked posh. The cream-colored suit was true Chanel, and the string of pearls over her lace see through blouse was just as genuine. Knowing what was under it made her feel giddy ­– a satin chemise with spaghetti straps, a tight lace thong over a garter belt that held up white sheer nylon stockings. She'd never before even seen garters. Let alone worn the patent leather Louboutins with stiletto heels; they made her ankles wobble.

Words reached her from where the big fireplace was. She knew the voice, of course. It begged her to come closer.

Juliana walked over reluctantly, avoiding the faces around her. The doctor's large hand took the tips of her fingers, pulling her closer. Her ankle twisted.

"This, gentlemen," he said, "is Mrs. Juliana Austin." He turned her to be better seen by her audience. Her eyes stayed down. "Please sit with us," he went on, making her turn his way again. She saw the schoolboy look had gone, but his face shone pink, whether from shaving lotion or sweat, she couldn't tell. His off-white smoking jacket made him seem even larger.

She looked left and right; there were no free chairs. On an overstuffed couch sat a young man with a blonde woman. On the other side was a sofa with another couple. She looked again; the man was the young doctor from the hospital. He smiled at her. What was his name? Fleming. Knowing he knew her deepened her embarrassment.

The doctor's hand pulled her closer.

"In my lap, please, Mrs. Austin," he said, smiling.

She didn't want to sit in his lap. As a matter of fact, touching his hand made her skin crawl. Walking on patent leather stiletto's put her on display. And smelling the perfume Mei had sprayed on her made her feel like a prostitute – a classy dressed one, but still a whore.

She'd rather not be here at all. But she was, and for a reason. The same reason that made her force her lips into a smile as she thanked him and sat down in his lap.

It felt soft and warm and wobbly, like an air cushion. She crossed her legs, pulling at the skirt's hem. One of the doctor's warm hands rested on her hip; the other held a glass of brandy. Blue smoke hung in the air; she could smell the acrid perfume of cigars.

The blonde sitting with the unknown man seemed as nervous as she was. She wore a pale blue mini dress that showed a lot of thigh. The brunette sitting with Fleming had her arms around his neck, whispering into his ear and giggling. She was in black, her dress cut low enough to show generous cleavage. The men all held glasses of brandy and cigars. They talked shop as if the women were not there.

Then Dr. Charrier put down his glass and snapped his fingers once.

Both women turned towards him; the brunette rose at once. She walked over to the blonde, reaching out to pull her up. The blonde turned her head from the doctor to the brunette and back. Fat fingers next to Juliana's head snapped twice more. The blonde closed her eyes and also rose, pulling at her skirt. Juliana felt the doctor's hand caressing her thigh.

The brunette led the blonde to the center of the carpet in front of the fireplace. Eyes were watching them from three sides. When they stood chest to chest, the brunette leaned in and kissed the blonde. A soft moan sounded in the silence. The kiss went on, and the bodies moved closer. The blonde's arms closed around her lover's waist; it made her bracelets jingle. Then the lips parted. The brunette smiled, her forehead touching the blonde's brow. Her hands went round the girl. Juliana heard a zipper open, followed by another moan from the blonde.

Stepping back, the brunette watched the pale blue dress slide off the girl's body, leaving her standing in bra and panties; they were baby-blue and transparent. Her breasts seemed small and round above her flat belly; Juliana could see her nipples. The girl blushed pink.

"You are so beautiful," the brunette said. "Now please take off my dress."

She turned her back to the blonde, raising one hip in a sensual stance. The girl looked around nervously; then she reached out and pulled the zipper in the black dress. The brunette shook her body and the fabric slid down to her ankles. She only wore a black thong and sheer black nylons that held themselves up by a wide lace band. Two seams ran down straight to her lifted heels. From where Juliana sat she could see the bare breasts; they were big and firm, with dark areolas. One nipple gleamed with a gold ring. Another ring pierced her belly button. She looked tan all over.

"Mabel, take off your bra," the doctor said right next to Juliana's ear. She could feel his voice vibrate where their bodies touched. The blonde, obviously Mabel, stiffened and turned her head their way.

"Do it, slut," the doctor insisted. His voice sounded gentle.

The girl blushed deeper as she brought her hands to her back to unfasten her bra. Juliana saw her breasts strain against the white lace. Then the material slackened, and they fell free. Her nipples were as pale and pink as the rest of her skin.