Simon Says

7

Every day for the next several weeks Elaine moved in a state of fearful suspense, wondering when Simon would administer his next edict, which servant would be the next one to be given access to her body. She had no doubt that Jason had recounted every detail of their night together to the others, and she could only steel herself in their presence and try not to let her mortification become too obvious. As the weeks went on with no further demands from Simon, her apprehension increased, and each time he spoke to her she trembled inside, expecting the worst. But it did not happen. She almost began to wish that it would, since it was bound to happen sooner or later, and at least it would put an end to this terrible anticipation.

Until the next time.

It was a gloomy Saturday in October when Simon asked her to come out for a ride with him, saying he had something to show her. Jason drove them to a part of town that was somewhat less affluent than that in which they lived, but still respectable, and stopped in front of a large, if nondescript, apartment building. Here they got out and Simon, who seemed to be acquainted with the doorman, ushered her inside and up in the elevator to the twelfth floor. There appeared to be only two apartments on that floor, and he led her to the door of one of them, which he opened with a key. They went in.

The first thing she saw were the manacles hanging from the ceiling in the entrance hall. Then she saw the other manacles attached to chains on the floor. She turned to Simon, startled. "What--" she got out, but he just smiled at her and led her into the apartment.

It was really not very large, just three rooms aside from the hall, the bathroom and a small kitchen. It was completely and comfortably furnished and carpeted. The only unusual thing about it was that to nearly every piece of furniture was attached some kind of restraining device--cuffs, manacles, chains, ropes, straps--they seemed to be everywhere. The chairs had buckled straps attached to their seats and backs, and metal or leather cuffs to their arms. The tables--both small and large--had manacles at each corner. Even the bookcases and cabinets had hooks fixed into them at various heights, from which were suspended ropes or chains holding handcuffs or similar articles. The walls, too, at various points sported hooks to which these devices could be attached. Elaine's eyes got wide and the breath seemed to leave her body as she looked around. She actually felt faint.

"Simon, what--" She was swaying; she had to sit down, and she did, on the nearest chair, although she only perched on the edge of it, her body shrinking into itself, away from the cuffs and straps. "My god, Simon, what is this?" she got out. "Why did you--"

Simon was smiling down at her. "Intriguing, isn't it?" he said. "You see, Elaine, I decided I wanted a smaller place, a more private place, in which I could entertain clients and business associates. I should say, in which you and I could entertain them." Elaine closed her eyes, but said nothing. She opened them again as Simon went on. "Business these days is so cutthroat, you know, that one needs every advantage one can get in order to stay ahead of the competition. Well, one of my advantages is that I have a beautiful and very sexy wife who loves her husband enough to help him out in any way he desires. The fact that I can bring, let's say, a prospective client to this place and offer him the gift of an hour, or a night, or whatever, with such a desirable and compliant woman will certainly be an asset, wouldn't you say?"

Elaine nodded slowly. She felt a great numbness, inside and out. Whatever feelings of fear, shame or anger his words had roused were, for the moment, smothered in a dense fog of lassitude and near-despair. She couldn't speak for a long moment, and when she did her voice was almost zombie-like. "I see," she said, and paused. Then: "But why--all this?" She gestured vaguely around at the furnishings. "Why all these...things? Since I am to be your compliant wife, who will do your bidding on command, who will willingly give herself to anyone you ask her to, who will be your obedient little whore..." She had to stop to get her breath, she didn't know why she was out of breath, but she was, and now suddenly there were tears in her eyes. "Then why all these--these chains and cuffs and...Why, Simon? Why?"

Simon shrugged. "It adds to the general ambiance, darling. The atmosphere, you know. Even though they may not be necessary in your case, some men enjoy the illusion of a captive woman, a helpless female at their mercy, as it were." Elaine recalled the cuffs and the gag that she had worn on the night he had introduced her to his friends. "It's all part of the game," Simon finished.

"The game," she repeated softly. "Is that what it is to you, Simon? A game?"

Instead of answering, Simon bent down and kissed her. There was both passion and tenderness in the kiss,and in spite of everything she couldn't help responding. It dissipated the numbness inside her, and for a moment nearly pushed away her doubts and fears, or at least clouded them over. On some level she understood now that she didn't really know this man whom she loved, and even that she probably should not love him, but there was nothing she could do about that. Nothing. She was his.

"Come," Simon said then. "I want to show you the bedroom, Elaine. I have a surprise for you." She rose and let him lead her to the bedroom. She was expecting him to make love to her there, to christen the new apartment. But in the bedroom doorway she stopped short. Her eyes went wide and an involuntary gasp came from her tightening throat.

After seeing the rest of the apartment, it came as no surprise to her that the bed was furnished with manacles on what looked like adjustable chains attached to each corner post. The surprise was that spread out on the bed, wrists and ankles firmly secured by those manacles, was a naked girl. Her stretched-out nudity was so blatant, and so spectacular, that for a long minute Elaine did not realize that she knew her. But then the awareness came. It was Sarah, Simon's young housemaid. Their housemaid. The girl she had handed her torn clothing to on that first day when Simon had brought her home.

For a second Elaine thought she might faint. She clutched convulsively at Simon's hand, turning to him with her mouth working, but unable at first to form words. Simon smiled at her.

"Don't worry, darling. It's all right. Sarah is not hurt, nor is she in any danger. In fact, she quite likes being in that position, don't you, Sarah?"

Sarah did not say anything, but she smiled up at him. She was a girl of about twenty, Elaine guessed, with short brown hair and a full, rounded figure. She did not in fact appear to be suffering, in spite of the strained tautness of her spread-eagled body. She was not gagged, and Elaine realized that she had not called out or made a sound at any time since they had entered the apartment. Obviously she was content to wait patiently for whatever Simon had in mind for her.

"I've chosen Sarah to be next in line in your ongoing gratification of the servants, Elaine," Simon said pleasantly. "As you can see, she is in a perfect position for that to happen. And as you did such a fine job on the female guests at our dinner party a while ago, I'm sure you will have no trouble at all in pleasing her. I'll just put a few pillows underneath her behind to make it easier for you." And he did, raising Sarah's gaping crotch and in the process increasing the strain on her helpless body. Sarah took in a sharp breath, but she made no complaint. The nipples on her upthrust breasts were stiff and hard.

Elaine's numbness was back. Again her legs felt weak, and she had to let herself down till she was sitting on the edge of the bed. "You don't even have to undress, Elaine," she heard Simon say. "Unless you wish to, of course."

She did not wish to. She had no wishes any more, except the wish for Simon to love her. Degrading herself at his command appeared to be the way to bring that about. In spite of the insinctive recoil that even her numbness could not smother, she barely thought of resisting him, or even pleading with him, which she knew would be useless. There were no tears now. She simply waited for a moment to gather her strength before slowly standing up and then moving to reposition herself on the bed, crouching between Sarah's outstretched thighs. Then she lowered her head to the girl's crotch and proceeded to do what she had to do.

She was aware of Simon moving to the head of the bed, where, she presumed, he could get the best view of the action. She performed her task steadily, if a bit mechanically, and soon Sarah was moaning softly. In spite of Simon's stated confidence, she did not feel that sure of what she was doing; she simply did what she thought would feel good to her if the position was reversed, but that seemed to be sufficient. Sarah's moans got louder, and her already taut thighs seemed to quiver with tension. Elaine kept on.

Then she heard a faint sound, as of a zipper, and a moment later the quality of the girl's moans changed, becoming briefer and somewhat muffled. Elaine raised her head to see Simon bending over the bed, his cock out, plunging it in and out of Sarah's panting mouth as the girl raised her head as much as she could to receive him.

Something broke in Elaine at that moment. For a brief second she thought she might lose consciousness, but she didn't. Nor did she cry out or make any sound of pain or protest. She simply watched for one frozen minute, and then went back to pleasuring Sarah with her mouth. There were still no tears. Her tears seemed to have dried up, possibly forever.

A minute later Sarah came with a loud if stifled groan of pleasure, and at nearly the same time she heard the familiar sounds of Simon's climax as he emptied himself into the girl's mouth.

When she raised her head again Simon was smiling at her and tucking himself back into his pants. "That was very nice, Elaine," he said, zipping up. "Sarah obviously enjoyed herself greatly, didn't you, Sarah?"

The girl made a little humming sound of acquiescence. Elaine couldn't look at her face.

"I think we can go home now," Simon said. He took out a little key and began to release Sarah from her cuffs. "Jason will be waiting to take us back."

"Will he?" Elaine said. There was an unaccustomed edge to her voice. She sat up and began to wipe her face on one of the bedsheets. "And would you like me to suck him off on the way home, Simon?"

Simon looked at her sharply, surprised by the acerbity in her tone. "No, darling, that won't be necessary," he replied. "Jason has already had his turn with you. At least for a while." He continued to take her in with his gaze. "But thank you for offering," he added.

Elaine shrugged. "I'm your whore, after all."

"You're my wife," Simon said flatly. Then he went on, with something in his voice that matched hers. "However, if I were to accept your kind offer, Elaine, you would carry it through, I am sure. Would you not?"

She was looking directly at him, and it took her a long moment to answer.

"Yes, darling," she said finally. "Of course."

.

On the way home Sarah rode up front with Jason, separated by the partition from Elaine and Simon in the back seat. Elaine had her eyes closed, her head resting on the back of the seat. She felt that she was in a kind of limbo. Her thoughts were jumbled, her mind disfunctional. But the image of Simon's penis in Sarah's eager mouth seemed to shimmer in her consciousness.

"Was she better than me, Simon?" she said at last.

"What do you mean, darling?" Simon murmured.

"You know what I mean. Sarah. Her mouth. Did she suck you better than I do?"

"Of course not," Simon replied. "Is that what's bothering you? That meant nothing, Elaine. Nothing. A simple momentary pleasure. It has nothing to do with you and me."

"You fucking bastard," Elaine said. As soon as the words were out, she couldn't believe she had said them. She was shocked at herself, and appalled. Where had that come from? Simon was staring at her, obviously as astonished as she was at what had come out of her mouth.

"What did you say?" he demanded. "Have you gone crazy, Elaine?"

"Probably," she replied. Something inside her was driving her now, something she couldn't stop, although part of her desperately wanted to. But now that it had been released it was too strong for her. "Christ, Simon, how could you? What is wrong with you? All these things I've been doing for you--all these awful, shaming, degrading things--giving myself to anybody you told me to--oh god, all of it was for you, Simon, because I love you so much and I wanted you to love me. I just want you to love me. And you can just--with that girl, right in front of me, Christ, what do I mean to you, Simon? Am I no more than a whore to you? I let myself be a whore because you said that's what you wanted in a wife, that if I did what you wanted I would be a good wife, you would love me. But you treat me like I'm nothing to you. I can't be nothing to you, Simon, I'd rather be without you. I'd rather be dead." She still had no tears, but she was shaking uncontrollably, and her voice was high and growing shrill.

"You are hysterical, Elaine," Simon said flatly. "What I did with Sarah has no bearing on our marriage, or on my love for you. When you calm down you will realize that. Now--"

"No," she said in a lower tone. She was still shaking but her voice was under relative control. "It's no good. I have to leave you, Simon. I shouldn't have married you. You've destroyed me. You humiliate me, you shame me, you take my dignity and my self-respect, and you give me--what? You don't love me, Simon, you love my shame and my obedience and--oh god. I don't know how I can live without you, Simon, but I have to leave you. I have to."

And still part of her was crying out No! No! Don't do this! Stop! But she said nothing more. She hugged herself, trying to stop her shivering, with little effect.

Simon just stared at her for what seemed like a long time. Then abruptly he picked up the intercom that communicated with the limo driver and switched it on. "Jason, pull over to the curb, right now."

The car pulled over and stopped. Simon reached across her and opened the door on her side. "Go ahead, Elaine," he said. "Leave."

She couldn't move.

"Go on," Simon said. "There's nothing stopping you. You're free. If you want to go, go. I won't come after you, I won't do anything to you. You will never see me or hear from me again. Go."

There was a long pause.

"I can't," she said finally.

"Of course you can't." He picked up the intercom again. "Jason, send Sarah back here."

She could only stare at him, still hugging herself. Her door was still open, she could still leave, she knew she should leave, she believed everything she had said to him, he would never love her as she wanted him to. And now he evidently meant to shame her further. And later he would probably punish her for her little rebellion. Her stupid, worthless, futile, laughable little rebellion. For god's sake, get out now! her brain screamed. But she couldn't move.

Then Sarah appeared at the open car door. At Simon's direction, she climbed in and moved past Elaine to sit between them. "Close the door, Elaine," Simon said.

And, god help her, she did.

Simon wasted no time. He positioned Sarah on her knees on the broad seat, facing Elaine with her back to him. Kneeling behind her, he swiftly pulled up her skirt and ripped off the skimpy panties she was wearing. Fortunately the tinted windows of the limousine prevented anyone outside from seeing what was going on in the car. Simon pulled down his zipper and brought out his cock, and with little further preparation he proceeded to penetrate the girl from the rear. Sarah's gasp was one of both pain and pleasure.

Elaine watched numbly as her husband took his pleasure slowly and deliberately. his eyes never leaving her face. This was all for her benefit, of course. To show her that for all her silly talk, for all her wild defiance, he could do anything he wanted and she could do nothing. And Simon made this quite plain. "You want to leave, Elaine?" he said harshly as he pumped himself in and out of the panting girl. "Are you going now? Look what I'm doing, Elaine." He moved harder. "Go ahead, wife. Run away. Go."

Why didn't she? Why couldn't she? She wanted to die, but she couldn't even do that, although something inside of her was dead. She felt as though her body weighed five hundred pounds. She couldn't make her hand reach for the door handle. She wasn't even shivering any more. She was stone.

"Kiss her," she heard Simon say then. Startled, she met his eyes, which were boring into hers. "Kiss her, Elaine. On the mouth. Just to show there's no hard feelings. Do it, Elaine."

It seemed an eternity before her mind could absorb this new indignity, but it was actually only a few seconds. Then she found, to her surprise, that she was able to move after all, and she was bending down to press her lips against those of the panting, moaning girl. She felt Sarah's tongue move into her mouth, and she accepted it passively, holding the kiss as well as she could as the girl's head rocked with Simon's rhythmic thrusts from behind. Those thrusts now speeded up, and a moment later, on the verge of climaxing, Simon withdrew. Pushing the girl out of the way he presented Elaine with his throbbing, twitching penis, glistening with Sarah's juices.

"Now me, Elaine," he said, somewhat hoarsely. "Take this for me. In your mouth." His hand went to her hair, as if to pull her head to him, but then it dropped. Elaine, through her raging numbness, understood the gesture. He didn't have to force her, not physically, to show his control of her. His command should be enough. "Take it," he repeated.

Again she bent, and took him in her mouth. She could taste Sarah's essence on him, but that taste was swiftly replaced by the overwhelming rush of his semen as it poured into her mouth. She swallowed as much as she could, but there was too much for her, and it overflowed past her lips and trickled down on both sides of her chin.

When he was done she raised her head and saw him looking at her with a mixture of anger, triumph and contempt. There was no love there at all. Would there ever be again? Did she want there to be? But of course she did. Why else would she still be here? Why?

"And now, Elaine," Simon said, in a voice as cold as any she had ever heard, "I think I will accept the kind offer you made earlier, concerning Jason. Get into the front seat, please, and carry it out."

Jason was already starting the car as she slid in beside him. She knelt sideways on the seat and reached for his zipper, then proceeded to do what she had to do as he drove home.

And still she couldn't cry.