Chapter 2

Cynthia Martin was feeling on top of the world as she walked into the bank. She was on her way! Only twenty-six years old, she was already a senior vice president of one of the most prestigious banks in Chicago. To celebrate her promotion she had recently purchased a penthouse condo on the lakefront. She made a small face thinking of all the money she already had spent to decorate it. But it didn't matter; she was making bundles of money and would soon make even more.

When she received a summons from Mary Thomas to come up to Mr. Paterson's office, she had just finished a staff meeting with her division officers. Idly, she wondered if she should use her feminine wiles on him. I wonder if he would like to take me as his mistress? The woman he's with now is starting to show her age. The morality of it never crossed her mind.

As she went to the elevator, she examined her assets. She was an honors graduate of Northwestern University and University of Chicago business school. She was five feet eight, with brilliant blue eyes and long wavy golden hair worn, as usual, in a severe bun. She was a very slim 120 pounds and had beautiful features. Regular workouts at her health club kept her in trim.

When she got to Paterson's office, Mary looked at her oddly, but motioned her to go right in. Cynthia decided she was looking just the way she wanted to look for the meeting. Entering the office she received a surprise and then a shock. Instead of Horace Chapman there were three women in the office seated around the chairman's conference table. The shock came when she realized one of them was Janice Stewart! Her pace slowed as she continued into the office. Janice rose and extended her hand.

Cynthia took it in her normal grip which now was limp. She used to have a firm handshake but her new friends on the lakefront made it known in the clearest terms that one air-kissed, one did not shake hands. If one did have to shake hands, one did it by merely placing one's hand in the other's. Cynthia saw an expression of distaste flash across Jan's face. Then she said, "Cynthia, I would like you to meet my mother, Allison Clifford, and my sister, Jennifer Chapman."

Cynthia was stunned. She didn't know the name, Clifford, but she remembered seeing an article earlier in the year about a Junior League meeting in Northbrook. Jennifer Chapman was mentioned as the daughter of one of the wealthiest men in the country and the daughter-in-law of Dave Chapman. My God! she thought, Allison Clifford is ... is the wife of William H. Clifford. And she's Jan's mother! "How do you do?" Cynthia said as she shook hands with the other women. They're fantastically beautiful, she thought. And they look so much alike.

Taking a seat at the table that was offered, Cynthia tried to control herself. She was feeling sick to her stomach. Whatever the reason for the meeting, it couldn't be good. Where is Horace Paterson? she wondered.

Jennifer Chapman started off. "Cynthia, first of all, Horace Paterson resigned this morning. He has already left the bank. I am the new chairman of the Board of Directors. You see, some of us are unhappy at what was done to our sister. Can you imagine selling yourself into slavery?"

Cynthia said nothing.

Jen persisted, "Can you? Please answer the question!"

"But it wasn't like that at all," Cynthia said mildly. "It was a straight business arrangement. She could have merely repaid the loans. What's the big deal?"

Jennifer spoke very quietly. "How would you react, Cynthia? You do know, it was Bingham's intent to whip my sister, and both mentally and physically torture her. You knew that, didn't you?"

"Well, I think you're being overly dramatic. She could have just paid off the loan."

"Wonderful! In that case, I'll give you the same choice. You repay yours. I have here your personal notes totaling about $60,000. They are also on a demand basis. I now own them and demand payment. According to the terms of the loans, payment must be made within thirty days from the date of demand. You have thirty days to come up with the money."

Jen looked like she suddenly remembered something. "Oh, I nearly forgot! You're no longer employed here at the bank."

Cynthia turned gray. Suddenly, her stomach turned over and she felt like she was going to vomit. She rushed to the wastebasket and vomited up everything she had eaten that morning. Then she just collapsed on the floor with her head over the wastebasket as her vomiting turned into dry heaves. There was nothing left in her stomach but still she continued to retch. Then she broke out in a cold sweat and sat on the floor with her head resting against the side of Paterson's desk while holding onto the wastebasket for support.

She heard Janice say quietly, "I guess that's how I felt when I got the letter from Bingham, but I was better able to control it. And Cynthia, there wasn't even a photograph of you with a bleeding back to remind you what his whippings were like.

"Isn't your reaction ... a little dramatic? After all, it's only $60,000, not $20-million. What's your problem? By the way, would you please empty the basket in the ladies' room? Please clean it out, too. And you'd better clean yourself up, while you're at it. You're beginning to stink."

Cynthia staggered off in the direction of the ladies' room with the basket in her hand. While she was gone, Jan looked at her mother and said, "Ali, that poor thing! I'm afraid this has gone too far already. We're destroying that kid."

"'That kid' is older than you are, Janice Stewart. And I disagree. What we intend to do might just make her. I think she's tougher than she looks. After all, she is Don Martin's daughter."

They continued their conversation and then heard Cynthia returning. Her very expensive and fashionable outfit showed water marks as well as traces of paper towel where she had tried to wash off the vomit that had sprayed parts of it. Her hair had come partially loose and there were streaks of mascara on her face. She had obviously been crying.

She stood in front of them and asked, "Is there any choice?"

Ali said, "Yes, there is, Cynthia, and it's this: You could become Janice's house slave for the next six months. Unlike Bingham, she'll only beat you for disciplinary reasons. You will do whatever she tells you to do. In return, although you won't receive a salary, we will pay your current bills including the mortgage payments on your condo and will keep your loan payments current. That's our offer.

"On the other hand, you could just quit your job and look for another. You're bright and personable. I'm sure you could get a job at another bank — perhaps as a loan analyst. I doubt if there are many jobs for twenty-six-year-old senior vice presidents, though." Ali smiled but her eyes did not. "Take all the time you wish — as long as we have an answer within five minutes."

There was nothing to think about. Cynthia said, "I accept. What do you wish me to do now?"

"Cynthia, it's up to you," Ali said softly. "Personally, though, I think an apology to Janice is in order, don't you?"

Cynthia didn't know what came over her at that instant. She found herself on her knees in front of Jan, crying. "Jan, oh God, please forgive me! I tried to tell myself I didn't know. I did. I will never forget the look you gave me when you came into the bank that day. I forgot what I said. I do remember I felt like crawling into a crack in the floor like a roach, or into a crevice, like a rat. Either would have been appropriate." She looked up at Jan's face. Despite the tears flowing from her eyes, she tried to smile. "Jan, I really think being whipped by you would make me feel a great deal better about myself."

Jan reached out her hands and took Cynthia's, helping her to her feet. "Come on, Martin, we've got a lot to do. First of all, please give Mary Thomas a list of your debts and due dates. She'll take care of the payments. Then go back to the ladies' room and clean the rest of the war paint off your face. When you finish those tasks, let's get out of here."

While she did, Jan kissed Ali and Jen goodbye. Ali was staying with Jennifer and Steve and would be returning to California the next day. Then Janice and Cynthia went down to the garage where Jan had left her car, a brand new BMW 750iL.

They got in and got on the freeway to the Tollway, then headed north towards Deerfield. As they drove, Cynthia studied the girl beside her. She realized Janice Stewart was the most self-assured woman she had ever met. Finally, she said, "Mrs. Stewart, may I ask you a question? But first, how do you wish me to address you and Mr. Stewart? Mistress and master? What?"

Jan chuckled softly. "I guess we don't really have to overdo the slave thing. Mostly, I answer to Jan. I don't think I've ever heard Pete called anything else. Except when I get furious at him and it becomes Peter. But I don't think that was the question."

"No, ma'am, it wasn't. The question is about you. I realize now that you're completely self-assured. How do you do it? I envy you."

"Self-assured? Me?" Then Jan chuckled. "I think what you're seeing is a very well-loved woman. Cindy ... By the way, what are you called?"

"I prefer Cynthia, Mrs. Stewart. Cindy sounds so ... so common."

"Sorry about that. It's going to be Cindy, or Cin. I'm basically lazy. I would get too tired having to call you Cynthia all the time. So Cindy it's going to be. You'll just have to get used to it. But anyway, back to your question. Cindy, the only thing that really counts in my life is Peter Stewart. I absolutely adore the man. There is absolutely nothing I will not do for him. For me, life is very simple. If I think he'll like it, I do it. If not, I don't. I guess that's really all there is to it."

"But ... But, your personhood! You're allowing him to dominate you! Now with Jeffrey, it's different."

"Who's Jeffrey?" Jan asked.

"Jeffrey Campbell. We have a relationship. He's my 'significant other' right now. He's really a dream. He empathizes with me and respects my feelings. We enjoy the same things. I met him at an origami class at the museum. Jeffrey has such feelings for women!"

"Oh," Jan said impassively. "Tell me more. If you'll pardon my saying so, he sounds like a sweet fellow."

"He does it with men purely out of respect for my personhood. Normally, he'll have a man before we go out on a date. That way he's relaxed and can concentrate on the real me and not be caught up in superficialities. He treats me so tenderly, just holding my hand and talking.

"Once ... Once I went up to his apartment to surprise him. A man was taking him in the ass. Do you know what he did? He held my hands while he was bent over being reamed. Wasn't that sweet? Then he washed and we went to a concert." Then she blushed and added, "But his partner was using safe sex. Jeffrey doesn't want me to get AIDS. Isn't he wonderful?"

"Holy shit!" Jan murmured under her breath.

"I beg your pardon? Did you say something?"

Jan started shaking her head and then began to giggle.

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Stewart. What's so funny?"

With an effort, Jan got herself under control. Cynthia could see her eyes were dancing with merriment. "Cindy, I am afraid you're going to be in for a major shock. First of all, you will not be wearing clothes. I'll want you naked at all times around the house. Lest you think I'm picking on you, I'm not. It's because Pete and I are naked — or nearly so — whenever we're home. Sometimes I'll put on something: a transparent teddy, or a peignoir that doesn't reach to my hips. That's just to serve to attract him more. Usually, though, I am just as bare as the moment I was born so he has easy access to all of my bodily openings.

"Listening to you talk about Jeff getting plugged is amusing. You'll see me getting plugged in the ass more or less regularly. When I was a prostitute, a number of customers, particularly including Mr. Bingham, used to take me in the ass. Hugo did it to try to hurt me, I know. In any event, the night of our wedding I had an idea. I needed to be exorcized from my days as a prostitute. To do this I wanted Pete to do to me the things I had been forced to do. I forced him to take me in the ass as a form of penance. Believe it or not, and in spite of the fact that Pete's sex is enormous, I loved it. There's a problem with it, though."

Cynthia had been listening with her mouth agape. She had never thought of having to be naked. But now she heard this beautiful girl talking about anal intercourse. And she liked it! "What's the problem, Mrs. Stewart?"

They had just passed the last toll before the Deerfield exit on the Tollway. Jan chuckled and asked, "Have you heard the line about women as a depository for a man's sexual fluid? You know, spread your legs and let the guy get a little exercise?"

"Of course. That's true, too."

"No, Cindy, it's really not. But that's another subject. The problem I was referring to is that I'm a lousy depository. Pete cums so much inside me I can't ever keep it all in, even with his huge weapon acting as a giant cork in my cunt. When he takes me in the ass, there's good news and bad news. The good news is I can absorb huge quantities of his cum in my rectum. The bad news is there's no plug in my cunt to hold in my own juices.

"As a result, I flood out the poor bed with my love syrup. I just run rivers." She glanced over at the girl and added, "One of your duties will be changing the bed, the pad, and so forth. Normally, it will be several times a day. Then, of course, you'll have to do the laundry, ironing and that sort of thing."

They had left the Tollway and were driving through the town of Deerfield. Finally, Jan drove up a long driveway to an isolated house set well back from the road. The property was heavily wooded in the rear. The two girls got out and went inside with Cindy following Jan into the living room. Jan sat down and said, "Take off all your clothes please, Cindy."

The girl just stood petrified. Even though she knew it was coming she couldn't bring herself to do it. She just stood there. Jan smiled wryly and went upstairs. She came back a few moments later. Standing behind Cindy she said, "Get down on your knees. Fold your arms and put your head down on them. I want to see your tail sticking up in the air. You might also want to take off your pants. It might be easier."

Cindy couldn't guess what this was all about. There had been some talk about punishment at the bank, but she had forgotten about it. She knelt down in the position described. She couldn't bear to take down her pants, though, and didn't. Jan shrugged and tried to lift the girl's skirt but found it was too narrow to pull up around her hips. Going into the kitchen, she found a sharp knife which she used to slit the skirt up the back, then ripped it with her hands up to the waistband. Cindy was shaking in terror, but remained on her knees.

"Cindy, there's another thing I forgot to mention. Please don't scream. Although we're pretty isolated out here, you might disturb the neighbors. If you do scream, there will be two extra strokes for each sound. Do you understand?"

The girl nodded.

Jan asked again, "Are you sure?"

Again the head nodded.

"You will get ten lashes for disobedience."

Jan stood back and lashed the girl's buns with the whip. When the lash landed, it cut right through the girl's pants. She applied the strokes carefully to cross the cuts and be sure to cover her entire bottom. By the fifth stroke Cindy couldn't take it any more. She screamed. The result was ten strokes for disobedience plus twelve more for six screams. When it was over, the girl was still on her knees crying uncontrollably.

"You may get up now, Cindy," Jan said quietly. "When you do, please take off all your clothes."

She left the room without bothering to see if Cindy obeyed. The girl got to her knees and then stood up. The pain in her rear end was so agonizing she could scarcely move. As quickly as she could she shed her clothes. When she went to take off her bikini, she found the only pieces left were the elastic and a few shreds of fabric. She could see that where the rear had been, the shredded material was now soaked with her blood. When Jan came back into the room. Cindy was astonished to see she was now naked, too.

She smiled at Cindy and said, "Thank you, Cindy. Now lie down on the floor, face down. Let's see if we can fix you up a bit."

This time the girl did what she was told instantly. She almost screamed again when Jan applied an antiseptic to her buns in spite of Jan's warning that it would sting. Then she felt Jan gently smoothing on a soothing ointment that contained a local anesthetic. It felt marvelous on her injured ass. "Oh, God, that feels so good. Thank you so much, Mrs. Stewart."