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Strange, thought Faith, how Dirk's voice seemed to come from off at a distance. He hadn't moved. He
was still behind her, still holding her to him. His voice was soft in her ear, talking only to her now,
"Faith? Close your eyes, Faith."
She felt so helpless, so small and weak. Already she had ceased to struggle, had accepted the fact that
Dirk would do with her as he pleased. "Yes," she whispered, nodding agreement as her eyelids came
down slowly and shut out the pitiful sight of her husband lying beneath Lucia's boot. Struggling hadn't
helped Boyd. Lucia, a woman only little larger than herself, had reduced him to a state of degradation.
How could she hope to prevent Dirk from having his way? Did she even want to stop him, she
wondered dimly. This thing he was doing to her. It hurt ... yet it didn't hurt. There was more pleasure
than pain in it.
Dirk began talking to her now, very softly, very comfortingly. He was careful not to increase the
pressure on her nipple, merely kept it constant. The monotone of his voice helped her to relax as the
nerves in her sensitive brown nipple adapted. Bit by bit the pain ebbed until Faith hazily wondered if his
fingers still held her nipple captive. She moved her chest a fraction of an inch to the left in order to
determine for sure if her nipple was still being pinched. It was. The tiny spear of pain told her beyond a
doubt. She sighed.
"Faith?"
It was Dirk's voice. "Yes?"
"How do you feel, baby?"
"So strange," she murmured. "So calm ... so contented ... so accepting."
"Am I hurting you?"
"No ... not now."
"I'm going to hurt you some more. You know that, don't you?"
"Yes, I know. I want you to. If you'll do it slowly like you have till now, I won't resist you." "Do you like
what I've done to you so far?"
"Oh yesss ... I do!"
"Good. I thought you would. There's one thing we have to settle before we go on, though."
"What is it, darling?
"About your husband. He belongs to Lucia just as you now belong to me. You will both enjoy the party
much more if you accept that fact. Will you put yourself completely in my hands, Faith?"
"Yes. I put myself completely in your hands. I will do as you wish," Faith whispered. She had no choice
and knew it. But she did not want to resist, not now. Her intuition told her that anything Dirk did to her
would somehow turn into pleasure for both of them. "I belong to you ... Boyd belongs to Lucia. But..."
"She will not cause him any permanent physical damage. Is that what you're worried about?"
"Yes. I couldn't stand for that to happen. I love him."
"Then relax. Lucia knows intuitively about men. She assures me that Boyd will soon voluntarily submit
himself to her will, just as you have submitted to me. Can we continue now?"
"Please," Faith said, then gasped out loud as he suddenly released the pressure on her nipple. A million
tiny, tingling arrows shot into her breast. It was the reverse of pain, the return to a normal state. I don't
like that," she moaned.
"Open your eyes, Faith. I want you to take off all your clothes," Dirk said, removing his arms from
around her body and stepping away.
Reluctantly she opened her eyes and began undoing the remaining buttons down the front of her dress.
She saw Boyd, still lying on the floor. Tanya and Bess were removing his clothes as Lucia stood over all
three of them with a whip held threateningly in her hand. Evidently Boyd had accepted his fate, for he
made no effort to prevent what was going on.
"Lucia was right about your husband, wasn't she?" asked Dirk as he came up beside Faith.
"He has a hard-on. She must have been right," Faith agreed, stepping out of her dress and draping it
across Dirk's proffered arm.
Chapter 6
She stood with her legs apart, one hand made into a fist and resting on her hip, the other rocking a coiled
whip back and forth through the air. The hard sole and spike heel of her boot had left a steady pain in
Boyd's throat. Every beat of his heart seemed to throb there, reminding him that she would stop at
nothing to master him. It was utterly humiliating to lie at her feet and allow the two women to strip off his
clothes as Lucia had ordered them to do. Yet he dared not protest.
Fear of what might come flooded his mind. Common sense told him that Lucia was demented, that she
meant him no good. He wanted out of this place and away from her. But how? How? Did he dare try to
get to his feet again?
No. Once was enough! He'd already attempted to get up, when Lucia had taken her foot from his
throat. What a mistake that had been! His scalp still ached from the vicious way she'd grabbed a handful
of hair and jerked him roughly to his back again. Then the boot ... right back onto his gasping throat!
Lucia'd threatened to kill him then, had squatted down close and hissed it into his face. Slave, she'd
called him, slave! Then she'd spat in his face and dared him to try and get up again before she told him it
was permissible to do so.
Something inside Boyd had wilted when Lucia's sputum hit and spattered over his face. All hope of
complete escape died at that very moment. Lucia'd watched his expression change, grinning satanically
above him and laughing deep within her throat. She'd known then. They both had. She was Mistress, he
slave. He was going to so do as she ordered, one way or another. She was the stronger willed, the
dominant one, the Supreme Female. His prick growing hard at the thought, he wondered if Lucia might
let him lick her boots. He'd opened his mouth to ask and got a slap across the face before the first word
formed.
One shoe came off as Bess pulled, then the other. His socks followed. Her eager hands gripped the
cuffs of his trousers and tugged them down, dragging his shorts half off before the pants slid on down his
legs and over his feet. Spraddle-legged, Bess walked on her knees back up to his midsection. Her
fingernails dug sharply into his skin as she hooked trembling fingers over the waistband of his shorts. She
jerked at first one side and then the other, working them down over his hips and buttocks.
His stiff dick flipped free and slapped against his lower abdomen. Oh God! If only Faith weren't here!
She shouldn't see this, he thought. What would she think of him? How could he face her after this.
Raising only his head, he saw her across the room and gasped. She was taking her own clothes off.
From the looks of it, she was not being forced to, but stripping of her own free will! Her dress was
already off. Dirk had it draped over his arm. He was smiling at her as she worked her slip up over her
hips and breasts. It went over her head, leaving her in only a tattered bra, panties, hose, and high-heeled
shoes. She hung the slip over Dirk's arm with the dress, then turned for him to unsnap her bra!
Gone now were his shorts. Tanya was sitting on his thighs, pulling his arms and urging him to sit up. He
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