Chapter 3

Cynthia went to the door. Before opening it she straightened her back and thrust her breasts out. Then she opened it and waited. Peter Stewart was coming up the walk. When he looked up, he saw the girl standing naked in the doorway waiting for him. Smiling, he said, "Hi! I'm Pete Stewart. You must be Cynthia Martin, my wife's new—"

"—slave, Mr. Stewart," she finished with a smile. "I'm your wife's bond slave." Suddenly, she appeared flustered. Cindy had been prepared to take Pete's hat and coat but realized he didn't have one.

He closed the door and looked at her closely. "Turn around, please?" he asked. She did as she was told. Pete let out a low whistle as he saw the cuts scoring her back and buttocks. "What happened to you, Cynthia?"

She turned back to face him and said softly, "The cuts on my ass were for disobedience. Those on my back are the result of my arrogance."

"Arrogance?"

"Yes, sir. I was arrogant enough to think I could keep up with your wife in her own swimming pool. Actually, she was very kind."

"Kind?"

"There should be fifty-four. There are only six. I guess she took pity on me."

Just then Jan appeared wearing her shorty peignoir. Cindy watched as she just melted into Peter's arms. She was astonished because she could almost see the electricity flowing between them.

When they parted, Pete looked down at his wife and smiled, "Good evening, wife. You look lovely today. But aren't you a bit ... overdressed?"

Jan grinned and said, "Honey, normally you'd be right, but now that we have a maid I can take the time to dress for dinner. Aren't you pleased?" She turned and looked at Cindy who was just standing and watching. "Cin, aren't you forgetting something?"

The girl almost jumped with surprise. She had been fascinated just watching the Stewarts together. Retreating to the kitchen, she carefully made two martinis and brought them, along with the first plate of canapés, out to the living room. In the meantime, Pete had picked Jan up and carried her in his arms to his favorite chair.

He sat down and she snuggled against his chest. "Darling," she whispered, "this is the most fun of all!"

"Is it more fun than making love?"

"It's not as exciting, but it's more fun. Remember, darling, when we make love you just use my poor body for your pleasure. You make me destroy myself. This is fun." She tried to burrow into his shoulder. Then she heard Cindy making a small noise nearby. Jan looked up with a sigh and reached her hand out languidly.

Cindy carefully put the martini into Jan's hand and said in imitation of a British lady's maid, "Does milady wish her servant to bring the glass up to her lips?"

Jan's eyes flashed but she replied in a languid voice, "Thank you so much, Cynthia, but I believe I can drink it by myself — at least for a while."

Then she kissed Pete softly and said in a stage whisper, "We got a comedienne, for God's sake."

While they sipped their drinks, Cindy knelt on the floor at their feet holding the canapés for them. When the first plate was finished she went back to the kitchen for another.

As she knelt, she concentrated on keeping her back up straight. In spite of the terrible pain from her lacerated buttocks resting on her ankles, she didn't move. While she was out of the living room, Jan whispered, "Darling, I can't believe this girl! You saw what I did to her poor buns? But she sits on them as if nothing happened. Pete, she has to be in agony!"

He just whispered, "Jan, I think she'll do."

When she returned with the second platter, she also refreshed the drinks. Pete had a sip of the second and nodded, "Darling, I think we'll let her stay. It's not as good as I make, of course, but it's an acceptable substitute."

Jan winked at him and turned to Cindy. "What my husband means is it's the finest martini he has had in his life. Thank you." She smiled at the girl and added, "Why don't you try a canapé? You have been looking at them longingly all day."

Cindy did and found they tasted as luscious as they looked. Finally, Jan got off Pete's lap and went into the kitchen. In just a few moments Cindy announced to Peter that dinner was ready. He went to the dining room and was surprised when Cindy held his chair for him, then seated Jan at the opposite end when she emerged from the kitchen.

Dinner that night consisted of a magnificent antipasto, followed by spaghetti with white clam sauce, and then veal scallopine Marsala, smothered in mushrooms. Cindy knelt beside Jan's chair except when she was serving or pouring the wine. She served cheese for dessert along with cream sherry and coffee. As Jan had instructed her, she brought the cigar humidor to the table after pouring coffee. She was astonished to find Jan taking a thin light panatella from the box.

"Cindy, please light my husband's cigar for him and then light mine," Jan said quietly.

Cindy's eyes widened. She had only the vaguest idea what to do. Taking his cigar, she daintily bit off the end and then rolled it in her mouth. She remembered hearing somewhere that the flame should not touch the cigar. She rolled it in her mouth as she held the flame beneath it. As she held the cigar out to him, she almost choked on the cigar smoke she had inadvertently inhaled. Then she repeated the process with Jan's panatella. She was surprised to find she liked the taste!

Kneeling beside her chair, she was amazed again at how self-assured Jan was. She and her husband were having an animated conversation about the company while she appeared to savor her coffee, sherry, and cigar. Cindy couldn't understand it. Everything she knew said that Jan was subservient to her husband. Yet she sat at the table regally in spite of being virtually naked. My God, she thought, Mrs. Clifford is right! She is a princess or a queen! I'm such a fool!

Finally, the Stewarts were ready to leave the table. Cindy held the chair for Jan who smiled and winked, whispering, "Eat your dinner, Cin, before it gets ice cold!"

When she stood at the counter to eat, she found the food was the finest Italian cuisine she had ever tasted. She made a mental note to ask Janice how she had learned to cook. After eating, she carefully cleared the dining table and did the dishes. When she finished, she padded into the library where she found the Stewarts necking. Mr. Stewart was caressing Jan's tit; its nipple was turgid from his biting it.

As she entered she heard Jan whisper, "Pete, you're creating jealousy. Don't you like my other one?"

He grinned and teased the other with his lips while she writhed with pleasure. When she turned toward Cindy, her eyes were glazed with passion.

"Is there anything else you would care for now, Mr. and Mrs. Stewart? What would you like me to do?" She had remembered to turn down the bed and ensured the bathroom was spotless.

Pete looked at his watch and found it was almost ten. "I don't know about the rest of you, but I'm going to bed. I have to work my fingers to the bone without any marketing or finance support."

"Marketing? The production turkeys can't produce a fraction of what marketing has already sold. Finance? All I do is invest the money and that takes ten minutes. Stewart, the tough part is spending it, and I'm working hard. Now knock off the shit, please!" Jan said with a grin.

He bent down to pick her up and Jan said, "Cindy, this is absolutely the best part of my day. Pete picks me up like I'm a feather and carries me upstairs to bed. I feel his huge muscles just crushing my body to his chest and I feel like I'm about four feet ten, and weigh about 80 pounds. He makes me feel tiny!"

"Just remember, lady. You're warm and wet and cuddly and cute. Particularly wet. Darling, I love you."

Jan looked over Pete's shoulder at Cynthia and said, "Cin, I think you were right. I'm just his sex object and plaything. Oh, the things poor weak women have to put up with!"

Without turning around, Pete said, "Cindy, remember those cuts on your back and ass? That was the poor, weak woman."

When he got Jan into the bedroom he gently eased her onto the bed. She lay there while he carefully untied the single ribbon at the neck that held the peignoir on. "My God, the things women wear these days! Body armor! It takes forever to get down to the woman hiding under all the shit."

Cindy giggled listening to him. Not only was it so short it scarcely reached her hips, but it was essentially transparent.

She started to laugh when Jan made a major production of taking it off after Pete untied the bow. She acted as if she were fully dressed. It was apparent to Cindy that, not only were they lovers, but they had fun teasing each other.

Pete muttered, "That's what comes of marrying a Yale lesbian. Incidentally, Jan, you never did tell me which lezzie group you belonged to."

Arching her eyebrow, Jan said, "To think, I've come to this! The best I could do was a refugee from the Widener Library at Harvard."

While she was saying it, her eyes were dancing. She turned to Cindy and said, "There's a lesson here for you, young lady. After being a prostitute you have to take whatever you can get." Then Cindy saw her ease two fingers into her cunt and bring them up to his lips.