Chapter 14

The door was slightly ajar, and Ann stood for what seemed an eternity before she entered. She had decided she had no choice but to submit. He had her exactly where he wanted her and if she had to degrade herself again to save her husband from humiliation, she would do so. She had created this horrible situation by her moment of weakness and there was no one to get her out of it but herself.

The last martini had braced her a little and she felt prepared to go through with it now in spite of her revulsion toward the vile, little man who had her at his mercy.

Max was lounging back in a white, ermine covered chair, a long black cigar hanging from his thick lips. He had the pictures in one hand, which he had obviously been looking at, and a glass of soda and ice in the other. Aim didn't speak but just stood inside the door with her arms hanging limply at her sides.

"I'm glad you made an intelligent decision about this, my dear," he purred, removing the cigar from his lips and running his tongue wetly around his lips. "After all, I'm not so bad am I"

Ann left the question unanswered and kept her eyes to the floor. She couldn't bring herself to look at him.

"I want the pictures first, Mr. Schroeder," she finally brought herself to say.

"Oh no, my dear Ann," Max said dropping them in a manila envelope and sealing it. "We'll play a little game, and if you're a real good little girl, you can pick them up and walk out. If not, then we'll just have to see what other arrangements we can make."

"How do I know you'll give them to me?" she cried.

"You'll just have to trust me my dear, you have no other choice. Now do you?" he said. "Come, we'll go to my special room. Would you like Sidney to bring you another drink?"

"Yes, yes I would," she answered quickly. She knew she was going to need as much fortification as she could get.

"What about something to eat, some roast pheasant, caviar?"

"No, I don't feel like eating," Ann answered. She could think of nothing more revolting than eating with him and didn't want to prolong her agony any longer than necessary.

He led her down the corridor to another room which had a heavy door and was secured by a huge padlock.

"This is my playroom," he chuckled, as though expecting Ann to laugh at his ill-timed joke. He pulled a key from his pocket and unlocked the portal.

"Come in, my dear, and see what you think of my little chamber."

Ann followed--then suddenly froze in her tracks, shocked.

It was the strangest room she had ever seen. It was quite large, the entire ceiling and an entire wall were completely covered with mirrors. The other wall was painted with a mural, showing the lewdest sexual acts imaginable. It was a huge orgy; done so realistically, the tangled mass of bodies and limbs seemed to be alive. There must have been over a hundred figures in it, some in pairs, others in groups of three four, and five.

"It's a masterpiece," Max said when she noticed Ann's eyes were on it. "I had six of Mexico's finest artists working on it for over a year. It's probably their greatest work and they don't even know where it is." Max laughed. "I had them blindfolded each day and brought here from fifty miles away. You see my dear, money can do anything--it even has you here."

Sidney had arrived with the drinks and left a thermos of Martini's for Ann on the table. She could hear the click of the bolt in the door as he left.

She was glad he had brought her the Martini's--she would need them to go through this ordeal. Max poured her one and led her along the mural, explaining in detail, as with the pictures of her, the lewd actions of each group though they spoke clearly for themselves.

There was a thick, white fur carpet covering the floor that felt nice to Ann's shoeless feet. Max made her take them off--as he did--when they entered, explaining he never allowed shoes on the fur rug.

"And now, my dear, the work bench," he said with a sly grin. He pressed a button opening long, black drapes and revealed the hugest bed Ann had ever seen.

It was covered in the same white fur as the floor and it was surrounded by several large lounge chairs, similarly upholstered. Along the wall were large racks, filled with the strangest instruments imaginable. They ranged from cats-o-nine tails to long, thin rods with fluffy feathers on the ends. She had heard of such things but had never seen them before. They were ghastly and she felt fear rise at the weird collection. Only a madman could find pleasure in their use.

She sipped her Martini nervously now, deciding she had better humor him. There was no escape with the door locked; screams would bring no help this far out in the country.

Max led her into a little room off to the side. In it were racks of strange costumes in all sizes and colors, though most were black. Ann remembered Julia reminding her that Max liked black.

"And here, my lovely Ann, is my prized collection." He opened a large closet and she could see at least fifty pairs of brief panties of every type and color.

"There are mementos of my previous guests," he explained. "Yours will add to it. I hope you have chosen them well."

He patted Ann familiarly on her buttocks and she shrank away, repulsed by his touch.

"Now, now, my dear, don't be frightened," Max coaxed softly. "We're going to get to know each other very well tonight so we must start out on the right foot. You don't want me to get angry, do you?" He patted his robe where he had placed the envelope. "Come back to the playroom, and I'll explain the rules of our little game."

Ann followed meekly, her eyes glued to the envelope he was carrying in his hand. He opened a small door that looked like a wall safe and pressed a button. A thin nylon rope descended from a hole in the mirrored ceiling directly above the bed. He made her stand upon the bed on her tip-toes until she could just touch it with the tips of her fingers. He then made her get off and lowered it further, attaching the envelope to it with a clip. He pressed another button that drew it almost up to the ceiling again Ann could see a small clock within on which he turned dials carefully.

"There we are, my dear," he smiled, closing the small door and locking it. "The envelope will descend one foot every six hours. According to your height, you will be able to reach it when it has dropped four feet. When I'm unhappy, I'll turn it off until I'm pleased again. That will stop its motion completely. We can tell how much time you've worked off by this clock on the wall. Clever, don't you think?"

"But that's twenty-four hours," Ann cried, never expecting this. She knew she would be subjected to horrible indecencies and she had prepared herself to suffer them for Dave's sake, but twenty-four hours!

"You--you can't make me stay that long," pleaded Ann. "I can't do it."

"There, let me fill your glass, my dear, I told you that you would have to work to get them back. Remember, they are expensive pictures."

While he poured her drink, Ann could see the brown packet hanging teasingly above her, so close, but an eternity of degradation away.

She drained the glass immediately and Max poured her another, obviously anxious to lessen her inhibitions. The second went down almost as quickly and she could feel the dull conscience-killing feeling coming over her.

"I think its time to make the addition to my collection, Ann, don't you? I want to take them off, lie back on the edge of the bed."

Ann sat tipsily on the edge of the bed. The alcohol was beginning to affect her now and her muscles felt sluggish. She had a little trouble controlling her own movements and her head whirled. Revulsion shivered through her nerves as she felt his hands gently push her back on the ermine-covered bed. Her feet dangled, almost touching the floor. Through alcohol-glazed eyes she could see in the ceiling mirror her own figure lying below. The top of Max's bald head was bent above her feet. She shut her eyes tightly as she felt his fleshy palms slowly pushing her knees apart and slide hotly up the inner softness of her thighs under the dress. She jerked involuntarily as they passed the protective covering of her long hose and moved, butterfly-like across the sensitive, white flesh between her stocking tops and her sheer black panties. Max's breath was coming in heavy snorts as his fingers made light contact with the thin band between her legs. She groaned helplessly as his fingers rummaged on the outside, pushing the softness of the smooth material into the thin, quivering slit of her vagina. He played tingly, his fingers pulling gently at the soft pubic hair that protruded from the leg bands.

His index finger slipped suddenly under the tight elastic and flicked at the moist red opening beneath, bringing another protesting groan from her. The humiliation was awful. His face was even with the bed between her knees peering greedily up her dress. She could feel his eyes feasting lewdly on the secret parts between her legs that belonged to her husband and no one else. Parts she had protected just for him and which now had become her shame. Tears streamed in tiny rivulets as the helplessness of her position leaped through her confused mind. She struggled to her elbows, determined to stop the lewd outrages he was visiting upon her unwilling body but the sudden sight of the small brown envelope dangling above choked back the sounds of protest rising in her throat. There was no hope, she had gotten herself into this and there was only one way she could get out of it. That was to submit to his sick demands until the horrible pictures had lowered within her reach. She could only hope it passed quickly before she lost her control and did something that would make him angry. The thought of those pictures among the sailors in San Diego-and at the Officer's Club--caused her to fall back in helpless submission. She had no choice, she had to submit to the revolting violation of her body to protect Dave.

She shut her eyes again as his hands pushed the hem of her dress to her hips and hooked the elastic band at the top of her panties.

"Lift your ass," he commanded, using the blunt word to remind her of his complete dominance.

Ann arched her back hesitantly, feeling the smooth nylon drawn slowly over her voluptuous, rounded hips and thighs exposing the whole of her soft, down-covered crotch

"Mmmmm, a real blond I see," his fat lips smacked in appreciation. "You're the first I've had in quite a while."

The sheer black panties stuck at her knees. He pulled fruitlessly for a second and then commanded her to lift them. The panties slipped easily to the floor as her knees rose, taking the pressure from the backs of her thighs. Max picked them up quickly and eyes closed, she could hear him nuzzling and kissing them sickenly above her. He cooed over them as though they were some sacred object, rubbing their smooth softness over his cheeks and face, his eyes bulging at the tingling contact.

"You chose well," he purred, "they'll make a beautiful addition to my little collection. I don't get them all quite so easily you know. Sometimes they fight and I must use other means of persuasion. I'm so glad we understand each other."

As the full impact of what he was saying registered in Ann's mind he disappeared with her panties into his trophy room. She realized now that she was at the mercy of a hopelessly sick degenerate. God! What terrible things would he force upon her as the price for the return of the pictures? If she could only run, if there was only somewhere to hide! But there was none and she still had her price to pay. Before her thoughts could go any further she heard the soft approach of his feet across the thick carpeted floor.

"They fit beautifully into their place, my darling," he said, his voice taking on a softness toward her now. "I want to see the rest of you. Sit up and let me undress you."

Ann struggled to sit, quickly, her mind still on the envelope swinging above them. She closed her eyes again as he hurriedly unzipped her dress and lifting her buttocks slightly, peeled it from her. Then came her bra and he whistled in admiration as the large, rounded spheres emerged. He kissed them hungrily and Ann cringed as the rubbery lips traced their moist path to the tips, hardening them in spite of her revulsion. Nervous beads of sweat began to roll from Max's face as his fat wet palms glided unimpeded over the firm contours, cupping and kneading them brutally until Ann cried out from the pain and humiliation.

Max dropped to his knees again and running his hands the full length of her slim well rounded legs playing indecisively for a few moments with the snaps of her garters.

"Let's leave them, shall we my love?" he said in an almost whisper, his eyes roaming greedily over her naked flesh. "I like my women with garter belts and stockings. They appear so much more sensual."

Ann was completely naked now except for the sheer black silk stocking and the garter belt that was only a thin wisp of elastic around her lower hips. She had never felt so exposed in her life and again the burning wave of shame crept through her in spite of her vow to regain the photographs at any cost or humiliation. Nausea rose as his pudgy fingers petted and fondled at her soft yielding flesh, the harshness of his digging fingers leaving white, bloodless prints in their searching trail. Tears welled her eyes as he pushed her back on the bed. She fell passively, beyond resistance now and thinking only of the lewd envelope descending slowly down with each cruel minute that passed.

Max pushed her unresisting body to the center of the bed and Ann felt her arms lifted above her head and a quick pressure first on her left wrist and then on her right, not realizing until too late that they were leather bracelets. She jerked forward but her arms were held loosely above her head by small chains connected to the upper corners of the mattress.

"What are you doing?" she screamed when she realized belatedly what had happened. "Please let me loose! I promise I'll do anything you like, I promise!" she pleaded, tears of fear streaming down her cheeks as she struggled helplessly against her bonds, her stockinged legs kicking wildly about the mattress.

"I'm not going to hurt you, my dear," Max chortled above. "Just relax and remember, the clock stops if I'm not pleased."

Ann stopped her struggles as the threat sunk into her alcohol-dimmed mind and lay passive as he pulled her slim legs wide apart and attached her ankles to two similar chains at the bottom of the bed. She was completely helpless now and could see her limbs in the mirror above, fastened securely to the four corners of the large mattress. She closed her eyes tightly to fight off her quivering fear.

She shivered silently in the center of the bed, listening with bated breath as Max picked up something in the corner of the room. She didn't dare to open her eyes to look for fear of screaming and having him stop the clock. She couldn't stand having the agonies of her humiliation prolonged any further. She just wanted to get it over with as quickly as possible. Again, she heard his feet padding back toward the bed and she held her breath, waiting with apprehension for his sweating palms to close over the soft flesh of her body. They didn't come.

Instead, she felt a light flicking through the soles of her stockings. Something was grazing torturously over the sensitive bottoms of her feet. She jumped against the chains that bound her in sudden surprise, her eyes jerking open and staring wildly around the room. Max was leaning forward in one of the chairs at the foot of the bed grinning lewdly down at her spread-eagle nakedness. He had one of the long feathered poles in his hands stroking with the sole of her widely stretched left foot.

The tickling soon began driving her mad. She screamed at the top of her lungs for him to stop and her body thrashed wildly against the binding chains. It was of no use. He continued the lascivious stroking slowly up her calves pausing at the sensitive inner thighs to rotate the feather in small, titillating circles against the soft bare flesh at the top of her stockings. Ann jerked her feet, stretching the chains their full length in an attempt to escape the maddening circles. Max smiled lewdly at the position it put her in. The outside of her knees were pressed flat against the mattress and she had drawn her thighs as far up the bed as the restrictive chains would allow, opening her crotch wide in a crab-like stance that exposed the moist pink slit of her vagina completely to his greedy eyes. He giggled, and thrust the tip of the soft full feather directly into the slightly parted pubic hair, jiggling it lewdly in the plainly visible lips of her tight, pink cunt. Ann was going out of her mind and writhed and tossed wildly against her bonds attempting to escape the insane torture her body was being subjected to.

"Oh, oh, please, please, stop, please stop! I-I can't--stand it--can't stand it!"

Still the teasing feather played at the tender parts of her vagina working its way up the full length of the narrow palpitating slit to her tiny throbbing clitoris and flicking at it maddenly until, with a sudden groan, Ann felt it begin a gentle involuntary jerking into hardness. She could hear Max laughing at the foot of the bed, her desperate pleadings driving him to manipulate the teasing feather faster.

He worked it slowly up over the mound of her genitals and across the flat white plane of her belly pausing for a moment and then up to the sides of her rib cage, playing tantalizingly with the soft, tender area under her arms. This almost drove Ann crazy and it was with relief that she felt it crawl up over her full ripe breasts and begin to gently caress the nipples into throbbing sensitivity. In spite of her revulsion toward the depraved little man subjecting her to these horrible indignities her feeling was slowly changing. Her cries of humiliation and torture tapered off into deep groans of forced pleasure. Her thrashing body quieted to slow helpless writhings of uncontrolled sensation. The feather slowed its flicking to soft gentle strokings that brought tingles of wicked pleasure to her body, exhausted from the struggles against the lewd torture. Small rivulets of sweat dripped from her torso wetting the softness of the ermine cover below her.

Tears of frustration again brimmed her eyes as she felt the control of her body slipping away. She had vowed she would never again allow it to betray her no matter how much temptation it might be subjected to, but the sheer hopelessness of her position and the feather in the hand of the master debaucher, violating all the sensitive, unprotected parts of her shackled form, were forcing her into helpless submission.

Against her will, her proud, firm breasts throbbed up into rock-hard roundness and the peaks tweaked up hungrily as the tantalizing feather made small delicious circles around the coral-white aureoles. As the maddening instrument began its downward journey again, she found to her fascinated horror her body reaching upward to absorb its soothing caresses. It dwelled long again on the whiteness of her belly and in the flexing hollows of her inner thighs, again causing a slow uncontrollable undulation of her rebellious hips and causing her again to draw her thighs back up into the crab position as far as the binding chains would allow. The split of her crotch was again wide-open to the leering, lust-crazed eyes of her tormentor below. With a lewd chuckle, he flicked the tip quickly without warning against the sensitive puckered ring of her anus, clearly exposed in the crevice between her full white buttocks. The tight, rubbery orifice jerked in surprise and tried to screw itself down into the mattress to escape the cruel soft probe.

"Aaaaagggg," she gasped between clenched teeth, "D--Don't! Please, please don't. I can't stand it--I can't stand it! It's driving me crazy!"

A sadistic laugh answered as she bucked and squirmed against the teasing probe of her clasping anus. She tried with all her strength to close her legs, but the chains held her tight. There was no relief.

"Oh, p-please, p-please, ooooh, ooooh, stop, stop, stop!" she grunted, squirming as though being tortured by fire. "You're killing me, you're killing me!"

"Would you rather be fucked, my dear?" Max hissed softly, increasing the pressure slightly against her anal orifice.

"No! No!" She groaned piteously.

A quickening of the flicking feather.

"Aaaagggh, I--I mean yes! Y--Yessss," she hissed helplessly. "Anything, anything, but stop. Oh God, please stop!"

As suddenly as it began, the tortuous tickling lifted from between her legs. Ann's straining muscles relaxed in relief, her body exhausted from fighting against her bonds and a thankful gasp of grateful warm air rushed from her lips. But only momentarily, as the thought of what she had screamed in her mad attempt to escape the torture returned to her mind. Her body had failed her again, and now he was going to do it to her, too, like all those faceless men had in Tijuana. He was going to fill her belly with his lewd cum until she screamed in surrender. He would show her no mercy, she knew that. She knelt he would pick and pull at her helplessness until he had utterly destroyed her will to resist. He would crush her pride like stepping on a helpless butterfly fluttering in agony on the street. Her eyes looked with glazed longing at the small brown packet dangling a thousand miles above her tortured form and she fought back the urge to scream at him and curse his wickedness. She had to have that packet, she just had to. There was no other choice.

"I've a surprise for you, my dear," his voice suddenly broke through the barrier of her thoughts. "Remember, I told you my tastes were different. Well now you shall see after we have a drink to refresh us a bit."

Max, now dressed in a robe, pressed a buzzer and instructed Sidney over the intercom to bring a bottle of Scotch. He appeared a few moments later glancing only an instant at Ann's spread-eagled form. She blushed, wondering how many times he had seen this. Nothing seemed to affect the staid English butler--not even the nude girl stretched helplessly on the bed.

After Sidney had gone, Max released her ankles and wrists and Ann pulled herself painfully to the sitting position on the bed. She accepted gratefully the Martini Max poured from the thermos turning the glass up, drinking greedily of the cool liquid that he had poured over ice. She shook her head slowly, trying to regain some of the composure lost under the tortuous teasing of the feather.

Max sat by her running his fingers hungrily over the softness of her flesh He purred his appreciation of the beauty of her body. Ann did not resist but sat in servile acceptance of his obscene attentions to her breasts and thighs. She was beyond caring now. Nothing more could be done to her that hadn't already been done in Tijuana. One more time wouldn't matter. She had become a common whore and she stared blindly ahead wanting only to get the awful ordeal over with. There was nothing else she could do.

"You will enjoy my little surprise, dear. All my visitors do--though some not as much as others. But I think you will. You seem to have a special sensitivity that comes to the surface under certain circumstances. We will provide those circumstances for you. You will see, I will not disappoint you."

He licked his lips as he spoke and doubt again began to arise in Ann's mind but she quickly dispelled it. She closed her mind to thoughts of resisting and turned the glass to her lips. The soothing drink helped, replacing that partial numbness which had worn off during her ordeal on the bed. She could feel herself deadening the racing thoughts in her mind again and she finished the last of the glass, thrusting it loosely toward the fidgeting Max next to her for refill.

"My dear," he consoled smilingly, "I hope you are not building false courage. I have told you I will not disappoint you."

"Make it big," she answered, slightly slurring her words. It was affecting her again and she welcomed the deadening feeling coursing through her. She couldn't stand him touching her when the time came otherwise.

Max poured her another Martini, adding a few cubes of ice.

"Here, this should help you relax. I don't want you to fear me, my darling, I want you to enjoy my company."

Ann ignored him. She could not bring herself to talk to him. She was still afraid she might lose control of herself and say or do something that would spoil it all and she would never get the pictures back. She drank deeply, the alcohol burning into her throat like fire--but doing its job; providing her the oblivion she desired and she could feel its nerve-calming affect seeping deeper with each swallow from the glass. Her sight blurred for a moment and she was conscious of Max's beady eyes focused closely on her every move. She knew he was waiting until he thought she was ready.

Why, she wondered dimly through the alcohol, is he letting me get drunk when he knows I'm at his mercy. He must know I can't stand for him to touch me.

Max answered her question a moment later when he took her by the hand and pulled her limply to her feet. He led her to an alcove screened by black velvet drapes.

"Now, my dear, you shall have the experience of your life. There aren't many women who get this opportunity." He grinned evilly into Ann's face as he slowly drew the drapes apart.

"Voila," he smiled proudly. "There is your lover."

Ann's heart suddenly jumped to her throat in spite of the alcohol. In a space about ten feet square and totally covered with mirrors from wall to ceiling sat a strange, menacing machine that caused sudden chills of fear to ripple over her.

"W--What is it?" she stammered in disbelief.

"It's a loving machine, my dear," he answered proudly. "My own design."

"B--But what does it do?" the poor girl whimpered, her mind working rapidly. "I-I thought you w-wanted me."

"No, my dove. I'm what you might call a "voyeur." I prefer to watch rather than touch. Most of the time anyway. That's why I have had my little pet here constructed. Come, I'll explain it to you."

Ann held her breath and moved cautiously with him as he pulled her toward the evil looking contraption. She had never heard of anything like this and suddenly the bitter truth of the alcohol came to her.

This was why he had let her drink so much! He knew she would resist this inhuman demand that she submit to a machine!

Max began his explanation, noting with glee the rising fear in her eyes. He had seen it often on others of his little playmates forced into the same position. A little fear made it more enjoyable, particularly as he could follow it slowly turn to lust under the tireless ministrations of his machine. He was proud of it and considered it one of his greater accomplishments. It had all the necessary factors to make it the greatest lover in existence. It more than made up for his impotency. After all, is was his creation, and there, him in action.

"You see, my dear. I have learned something from our space program. This a contour couch," he smiled proudly, patting a soft, plastic- covered stand on the floor. "This has been molded perfectly to fit underneath a kneeling female body. Notice it even has foam rubber lining for comfort."

Ann's eyes widened as she followed his description of the obscene mechanism. It looked like some kind of exercise machine. The plastic form was formed perfectly to take the female body kneeling on all fours. It was complete, even to two openings at the chest for the breasts to protrude and straps on the sides to bind the occupant securely onto it. He could control the angle of legs and torso by movable parts. Just behind where the buttocks would be, was a steel rod about two feet long, threaded so objects could be screwed on. The rod was connected to an arm coming up from a small electric motor on the floor.

"This, my dove, is the heart and soul of my little pet," he chuckled at his humor. "Here we attach the instrument of your desire. We have all shapes and sizes. Thick, thin, long, short, you just name it. I have had them molded from a special flesh-like rubber and they are true life in every respect--except they do not have the one weakness of man, they never grow soft. It is perfection and could make love to you through all eternity without tiring. You will love it, I promise."

Ann's heart skipped another beat. She couldn't believe what she was hearing. This vile little man expected her to submit to the monstrous ordeal of being skewered by a machine while he sat back and enjoyed her humiliation. The thoughts of the pictures slipped from her mind and she turned to him with hatred in her eyes.

"I won't do it. It's sick, do you hear? I'm not an animal and that's what you need, an animal!" Tears streamed from her eyes as she spat her contempt out at him, her body quivering in shame and frustration.

"We have an agreement, my dear. Have you forgotten so soon?" he chuckled softly, knowing it was just a matter of time before he'd have her proud, voluptuous body stretched over the machine. He enjoyed the playing. It was so much more exciting when they fought first and later gave him the satisfaction of total submission. He'd soon destroy the pride of this haughty little bitch. She would plead with him for more by the time he was through. He had not devoted his life to sensual pleasures without learning something about human nature and he knew her well enough by now to know that her very pride would be her downfall.