Chapter 3
The Japanese valet had prepared Edith Garvin for her ordeal. He entered the room in which she had been incarcerated, and, so swiftly, that she did not have time to put up any adequate defence -which, moreover, would have been absolutely useless because Yoshio was skilled in judo and karate-he had applied a pair of silver handcuffs to her wrists, swiftly blindfolded her, and then, fixing a leather dogcollar round her neck, had taken hold of the leash and ordered peremptorily, "You come now, or Yoshio give you good whipping!"
Absolutely consternated at what had happened to her, the blindfolded young Jewess had begun to stammer agonized question, demanding to know why this was being done to her, why she had been abducted from New York, where she was now, what was to be done to her. But the Japanese valet had given her no reply whatsoever; dragging on the leash, he had led her stumbling out of the room and then guided her down the stairs, his left hand at the scruff of her neck, his right gripping her fettered wrists, and guided her to the basement chamber where she was at last to be reunited with Judge Austin W. Black.
This chamber was extremely wide with a low ceiling. Placed advantageously around its walls were several loveseats, and a few tabourets and ottomans. In one corner, there was an elaborate sideboard buffet on which were placed decanters of liqueurs and wines. There was even a movie projection screen at one end of the spacious chamber for at times the Judge whetted his sexual appetite by watching films which had been taken at Welfare Island or here in this very house by his cooperative Japanese manservant. They were complete with soundtrack, and in a special room on the first floor just off his study-library, there were metal cabinets containing hundreds of canisters of movie film, each meticulously labeled as to date, victim, and a brief outline of what action could be enjoyed when running any particular film. Many of these had been duplicated and given to members of the crime syndicate engaged in prostitution, either for their own amusement of as documentation on some helpless female victim who was about to make her debut under their auspices as a callgirl or a whore or a lust-slave.
In the center of this wide room was a pillory, solidly set into a low rectangular platform about a foot high. But it was much shorter than the kind we see illustrated in history books dealing with the Puritan Colonies in New England, when it was the custom to flog errant women and then set them in the pillory or the stocks, to be mocked and taunted by the avid spectators. It was scarcely four feet high, which meant that a victim whose neck and wrists were clamped in the yoke-holes would have to bend over till the back was on a most completely horizontal plane-and this, needless to say, would project her buttocks out for either the tactual exploration of the executioner's fingers or for the lash!
Yoshio had at once fixed the beautiful mature woman in this pillory, removing the dogcollar and the handcuffs but leaving the blindfold in place. His eyes had glistened with lubricity as he had stepped back to contemplate the mouth wateringly desirable victim. For the ample, round, succulently firm globes of her behind excited his animal passions even though he was still fully clothed.
Edith Garvin heard his receding footsteps and then the clang of the metal door which announced that she was left alone in her suspense and terror. She began to sob helplessly, ineffectually trying to ease the constricting pressure of those three yokes about her wrists and neck. Her back had already begun to ache because of the exaggerated stress of this bent-over pose.
She had been waiting there for nearly an hour when Judge Austin W. Black clad only in a green silk bathrobe and leather sandals, and accompanied by the delicious goldenhaired adolescent in her immodest black nylon tunic, entered the chamber.
Edith Garvin uttered a stifled cry at the sound of this entrance. "Oh God, who is it? Oh please, please let me go! Why have you brought me here? Why have I been kept a prisoner all this time? In the name of mercy, will some one tell me?"
The lecherous white-haired roue made a gesture to Martha Cronkite. She swiftly approached the panting, terrified captive, and deftly grasped the hems of Edith Garvin's modest brown cotton skirt as well as the chastely cut white nylon slip beneath it, and rucked the garments up over the victim's temptingly curvaceous hips. Making a snug roll of them, she then unfastened two safety pins which she had fastened to the bodice of her tunic, and secured Edith Garvin's uptrussed garments so that they would not fall back down.
"Oh my God, what are you going to do to me? Who is it? In the name of mercy, I beg of you, who are you, where am I and why have I been brought here?" Edith Garvin wailed. She twisted and weaved her hips about, for the cruel stress of this bent-over pose was already beginning to prove an irksome ordeal.
Judge Black's eyes were narrowed and burning with lust as he contemplated the magnificent mise en scene. Edith Garvin was wearing a white satin elastic pantiegirdle, whose narrow tabs clamped to the tops of charcoal-brown nylon hose. Presented as she was, this final sheath which hid the vistas of her sexual charms from him was supremely tautened till it seemed to become part of her very skin itself. It molded out the full plump, tightly spaced hemispheres of her behind, accentuated the ripe curves of her shuddering thighs, and made the muscles of those luscious columns and those of her delightfully curved calves ripple and flex under the gauzy nylon hose.
Martha Cronkite watched her master anxiously for his slightest sign, for even though at this moment she was not the one incurring his disciplinary wrath, she knew very well that a single misadventure or mistake in executing his orders would condemn her to the same fate as this beautiful mature brown-haired captive in the pillory.
His prick was savagely swollen, thrusting out adamantly against the soft silk bathrobe's folds. The sensation of being naked under the delicate and thin silk appealed to all his hedonistic senses, sharpened his erotic imagination as well as his carnal lust. As a patron of the arts and as a frequent visitor to the symphony orchestra concerts, the Judge had once read that the composer Richard Wagner never wore anything but silk next to his body, and he had quickly adopted that idiosyncrasy as his own. It was indescribably exciting at this moment to feel his bare skin delicately caressed by the soft silk, to feel it brush against his straining cock, to feel himself virile and powerful, like a veritable god or an emperor from whom there would be no appeal. Edith Garvin would learn this lingeringly, deliciously!
The silence in this room was broken only by the victim's sobs and gasps, and by his quickened and heavy breathing. Martha Cronkite knelt beside him, her eyes fixed on Edith Garvin's jutting bottom. She was very pale and wide eyed and already this young girl scarcely out of puberty had been so thoroughly initiated into her carnal servitude that at this moment she was secretly grateful that the unknown female locked in the pillory before her was going to suffer and not she herself. And at that moment, too, she was ready to do anything to add to the torment of the unfortunate Edith Garvin provided only that her tyrannical master spared her own tender naked flesh.
He glanced down at Martha Cronkite and he read all this on her pale, frightened face, and he grinned with a gloating exultance. The power which this double life had given him had made him feel reborn, like a young man. Seated on the bench in his courtroom, seeing lovely girl and woman brought before him on this charge or another, pompously chiding them for their transgressions and then with a kind of mournful solicitude, sentencing them to Welfare Island "for their own good," provided him with the most exquisite secret delight. For he well knew that in a few weeks, he would preside over them in another capacity, that of their executioner, torturer, ravager. And like a true connoisseur of sadistic joys, he savored the Tantaluslike pleasures of anticipation; when he stared down with a benign smile upon some young woman who stood before him in his courtroom, it seemed to him that he could envision her stripped of the dress she was wearing, kneeling naked at his feet, her hands clasped in prayer, her eyes brimming with tears, her naked bosom heaving with sobs, as she besought him for mercy. Too, it delighted him to conjecture as to the exact quality of her charms when she should be naked and enslaved, to her reactions and how she would behave under the lash or when her thighs were forced apart and a male prick was gouging the tight channel of her cunt.
From the pocket of his robe he now took a Havana panatela, lit it, and savored the rich aroma. Then he blew a cloud of smoke towards the pillory, and waited. Edith Garvin was still brokenly pleading to know who her captor was, what he intended to do to her. As the fumes of the strong cigar reached her nostrils, she gasped and coughed, "Ohh-oh my God-who is there, oh speak to me, this is unbearable, have pity on me! I've done nothing. I demand to know why I am here! Please-it hurts me like this-my back is hurting so! Oh my God, if you've any mercy in you, tell me who you are out there!"
For answer, he sent another cloud of smoke in her direction. His face was a mask of lustful anticipation, and his cock was aching with the savage joy he had promised it.
Again she began to cough and gasp as the strong fumes wafted to her flaring nostrils, "Ohh-ahh- please-pl-please-who is it, who's there?"
He chuckled softly and that soft sound made Edith Garvin freeze in terror. Her body stiffened, and he could see the muscles surging out along her thighs and calves through the sheer dark brown sheaths of her hose. He approached now, transferring the cigar to his left hand, and he extended his pudgy right forefinger towards her jutting bottom. Holding his breath, he approached the crevice shaped out by the tightly stretched pantiegridle, and then suddenly goosed her.
"AHHHH!! OHHHH MY GOD, PLEASE DON'T!!" Her voice was shrill and agonized as she tried to swerve her hips away from that profaning touch.
"You disappoint me, my dear," he purred, "I thought your memory would be much better than this."
"That-that:-that voice-ohhh my God-no, no, it can't be-" she gasped, congealing in a sudden horrified dread which impinged itself upon her mind.
"But it is, my dear. Now that's better. I'm glad that you're beginning to remember. After our happy association in the past, it would grieve me to find that you didn't recognize me by now." Judge Black obsequiously declared.
"Mr. Black-oh my God-no, no, I can't believe it-where am I-oh my God, why have you done this?"
"It's Judge Black, now, my dear. And now you disappoint me. When you were in my employ weren't you aware of my legal abilities? Didn't you realize that I would go higher than the mere post of state's attorney, my dear?" he banteringly replied.
"But I don't understand-I came to Chicago and oh my God, then it was all your doing-" she gasped.
"All of it, yes, my dear. That should flatter you, my charming Edith. To think that I remembered your charms so well after all these five long years that I could not do without them."
"But this is insane! You-you kid-kidnapped me-that's what you did! Oh my God, let me go. Please let me go!"
"Come now, Edith, can it be that you are still as prudishly naive as when you worked for me? But I've had reports that you're actually engaged to be married. Now surely, in these past five years let me see, that would make you about thirty years old, wouldn't it-you must have learned something about a man's desires for a luscious body like yours. As a matter of fact, seeing you like this in such an immodest pose and so scantily clad, I feel even more strongly about your charms that I did when you were my secretary. Yes, it seems to me, truly, my dear Edith, that your bottom and your thighs have taken on an even more enticing plumpness. Surely you can't have gone these last five years without some romantic experience, not with tempting charms like those."
With this, he passed his right hand over the plump surging cheeks of Edith Garvin's jutting bottom, and the young woman uttered a piercing cry and violently twisted herself away from that ignoble palpitation. "Gracious, you seem to be even more sensitive than you were before."
"You-you filthy old beast! You know perfectly well why I quit my job! You know that I wouldn't work for a man who had no more respect for a woman than that-to do what you did!"
"You mean this?" the Judge guilefully asked as again his right forefinger prodded the narrow crevice of Edith Garvin's rectal fissure, pressing the white satin-elastic material of her pantiegirdle into her tender crack."
"OHHHH! STOP THAT, YOU DISGUSTING BRUTE!! HOW DARE YOU! OH MY GOD, IF YOU'RE A JUDGE, THEN THE PEOPLE WHO VOTED FOR YOU CANNOT KNOW HOW VILE AND CONTEMPTIBLE YOU ARE! YOU'LL GO TO JAIL FOR THIS, FOR KIDNAPPING ME AND TREATING ME THIS WAY!! DO YOU HEAR ME! I DEMAND THAT YOU LET ME GO AT ONCE!" she shrieked as she jerked this way and that.
Judge Black cleared his throat with an oratorical flourish. "Let me set forth your present situation, my dear Miss Garvin. You were brought here to claim an inheritance, and the people who helped transport you here to my house-where you now are, by the way-are all in my control. You will receive that inheritance, with ample interest, I assure you. As Judge of the Municipal Court, I have it in my power to find you a vagrant and to sentence you to a correctional institution. No one can trace you here, and once you are imprisoned at Welfare Island, you will simply disappear from view. Even your fiance, this Rosenzweig fellow-and I shall have a good deal more to ask you about him in a few moments, my dear-won't be able to track you down. So my advice to you, my dear Miss Garvin, is to resign yourself to reality and to try to be less hostile to my overt display of really genuine affection for your charming person."
The flowery rhetoric which was so dear to Judge Austin W. Black's heart was the mark of the artistic and imaginative sadist, which he assuredly was. But Edith Garvin, unlike the fifteen-year-old almost naked girl who knelt beside the fat white-haired lecher, was hardly aware of this. So, again frantically trying to swerve her hips, and to wrench her wrists and neck out of the yokeholes of the pillory, she cried out, "I haven't the least interest in your affection for me, you disgusting old fool! It was criminal of you to have me kidnapped and brought here and you know it was! And you can't hold me here against my will, you know you can't!"
"I can try, my dear, and I certainly will. But this is no way for two old friends to behave after five long years," his voice became soft and unctuous, "There's so much I want to know about you, my dear Miss Garvin. Particularly, how much you have learned about men in the last five years. Now then, my investigators tell me that you are "engaged to be married." Has this fiance of yours ever seen you naked yet, or cuddled with you and put his hand under your skirt and felt you sweet little snatch?" The sudden transition from the gently solicitous words to the unexpected obscene noun struck the imprisoned beauty like the lash of a whip, and he chuckled as he heard her horrified gasp. Then he resumed, "You must have learned something, my dear, or you wouldn't be shocked by that vulgarism of the dainty spot between those plump sweet thighs of yours. Martha, suppose we have a look at Miss Garvin's charms without the hindrance of that overly tight pantiegirdle she's wearing. Have the goodness to undo the stocking supporters and unfasten it and drag it down as far as you can."
"Don't you dare! I forbid you to do that! You wicked, horrible old man! You have absolutely no right to treat me this way, I shall go to the police and complain, and then there'll be a real scandal! Oh, to think that a man who calls himself a judge should treat a decent woman like this!" Edith Garvin cried.
But Martha Cronkite, seeing the glitter in her master's eyes, had hastened to obey. Quickly she unfastened the tabs which held up Edith Garvin's charcoal-brown nylon hose, and the victim shrieked and twisted and jerked herself in every possible way to try to avert the catastrophe. Rising now, the lovely goldenhaired adolescent tugged the zipper of the sheath, and then, seizing the sides of the waistband with her hands, began to tug it down while Edith Garvin uttered shriek upon shriek and desperately twisted and jerked to escape this supreme outrage to her virginal modesty... for indeed, even though there had been a lapse of five years and she was now thirty, she still retained her maidenhead.
"Quickly, Martha, unless you're eager to have your own naked bottom soundly flogged," he drawled. His bushy white eyebrows arched, and Martha Cronkite's heart sank at that sign, which she recognized only too well. With a gasp, and with all her strength, she dragged down the pantiegirdle to the middle of Edith Garvin's plump stocking-sheathed thighs and then drew back, trembling and pale with her own terror.
The beautiful dark-brown haired Jewess uttered a prolonged piercing cry as she felt herself denuded before the eyes of her former employer. She proffered the most piquant and lasciviously exciting of spectacles, bent over with her neck and wrists captured in the yokeholes of the low pillory, her plump round olive-sheened buttocks jutting out, and the white satin elastic sheath twisted about her lower thighs and acting as a fetter of restraint.
The cheeks of Edith Garvin's naked bottom were magnificently sensual. Round and solid, upstanding hemispheres, whose warm olive skin was flawless and soft and satiny. There was a gradually widening crease from the chinkbone down to the base of those resilient rotundities, and even though she tried frantically to clench her thighs and to diminish her nakedness as much as possible, she could not help exposing the ambery-shadowy groove which separated those Callyphygian glories, nor the dark brown thicket of pussycurls which hid the plump pink lips of her virgin cunt and which flourished along the inhibited and sensitive furrow which led from her mount of Venus to the dainty rosette of her equally virgin asshole.
His prick was gigantic now with longing, but as a true master of the voluptuous arts of sexual coercion and subjugation, Judge Austin W. Black controlled the savage impulse to possess her then and there. Stepping to her left, placing his left palm on the small of her naked back, he glided his right hand over the cringing, tightening gloves of her naked bottom, delectating over the smooth warm skin, tactually appraising the elasticity of the firm jouncy hillocks, tracing their contours from the lasciviously jutting curves of the summits to the provocative swell of the base of her bottom just as it left the harmonious juncture of her plump full womanly thighs. Added to his enjoyment was the convulsive interplay of the muscles of her bottom and legs, while the blindfolded Jewess dug her nails into her palms and again tried desperately to wrench herself free from the pillory.
"What a magnificent ass you've got, Edith, my dear," he said pleasantly. I wonder if your fiance has ever felt you up. Tell me, my dear, have you and he been to bed yet?"
"Ohhhh!! My God, my God, take your filthy hand away from me! you disgusting, cowardly beast, I forbid you to touch me like that! I'm a decent girl, I'm going to be married, and he treats me with respect, I'll have you know! Oh stop it, stop it, you have no right to do this to me!" Edith Garvin was beside herself, and her voice was high-pitched and shrill with desperate shame as she twisted her bottom this way and that to escape the sullying and lecherous caress of his pudgy hand.
"Can it be, from all these protestations, that you wish me to believe that you're still a virgin, my dear Miss Garvin?" he chuckled thickly. "I had thought that the excellent example I gave you five years ago might have turned you away from the aesthetic life. You won't answer? Then I shall have to find out for myself, shan't I? Martha, stand there and hold Miss Garvin by the hips, so that she won't twist around too much. And take care you hold her tightly, or I'll have you in one of these contraptions with your bare bottom stuck out for a good thrashing!"
Martha Cronkite did not need a second invitation; she hurried to the pillory, dug her slim soft little fingers into the edges of Edith Garvin's olive-satiny hips and tensed herself. Judge Black chuckled again, and then slyly lowered his right forefinger and advanced it towards the thick cluster of darkbrown pussycurls which shielded the plump fig of Edith Garvin's salacious proffered cunt.
The victim's body stiffened, and then a frenzied, hoarse shout burst from her: "AHHHH!! OH DON'T DO THAT TO ME!! OH YOU FILTHY BRUTE, YOU DIRTY HORRIBLE COWARD YOU!! TAKE YOUR FINGER OUT OF ME!! HELP ME, OH MY GOD, WON'T SOMEONE HELP ME? NOOOOOH! STOP IT, STOP IT, OH GOD, OH WON'T ANYONE SAVE ME FROM THIS DIRTY OLD BRUTE, OH PLEASE!!"
For Judge Black's fingertip had pried through the thicket of silky pussydown, between the plump pink lips of that delicious cunt, and had penetrated up against the still tight and resisting barrier of Edith Garvin's cherry! He had pressed in very hard, causing a twinge of pain; and in the midst of her shrieking protestations, the victim's voice had risen a full octave in pitch.
"I wouldn't have believed it, my dear," he said in a tone of feigned surprise as he withdrew his finger. "Imagine that, at thirty still a virgin. This fiance of yours must really be very backward. You'll have to send him to me, my dear Miss Garvin, so that I can give him a good lecture on what to do to you in bed once you're married. But that will be quite awhile off, you know. Well, well, well! I congratulate you, my dear, for preserving your chastity at all costs for all this time. Why, you're practically a spinster at thirty, Miss Garvin, Don't tell me that you have the old-fashioned and quaint notion of saving your maidenhead for your wedding night? Yes, I guess that must be it. But I have first claim on it, you know."
"Ohhhh Noooo!!! Oh dear God, help me, help me! Save me from this horrible fiend!" Edith Gar vin shrieked to the unhearing walls.