On one occasion, Nathan had a couple of male friends over and Delia noticed how they kept sneaking glances at the house guest. Delia, drunk with power...and soul-riddles with mean-spirited intent, asked them, “Want to fuck her?”Leila wasn’t present during that exchange, but the men were reassured, “She won’t mind, she won’t mind at all. She’s a little fucking whore.”To prove it, Delia yelled at Leila to come in the living room. Once she was present, Leila was told by her best friend, “Lift your. ”“Good, now turn around so I can restrain you.”Wordlessly, he stood up, turned around, and placed his hands on each side of the bed next to the bedposts. I retrieved the heavy, leather bindings that were attached to cable ties at the base of our bed, right above the carpet. I then attached the leather bindings to each of his wrists. I stood up, grabbed the cane, and took a moment to observe him. He looked so vulnerable, so helpless, so completely at my mercy. I could feel the power surge. She was also filled with a sense of dread and apprehension about the unknown future ahead and shame at her new lower position in life. She wondered how could she ever learn to love a man? Maybe her husband wouldn't care; love seemed like a superfluous luxury in a place where the state controlled your soul. She felt that she was now just a fertile womb and breasts waiting to be pressed into service for a cause that no one ever fully explained to her. She looked around at the rows of cots filled. The tangy scent of my cunt cream filled the air. I smeared them across his face. He shuddered. He breathed in deeply. He let out a groan. He shook his head.“What?”“You just got confused,” I panted, my heart racing so fast. I shook. “That’s all. You misunderstood. I’m allowed to fuck your wife and daughters, aren’t I?”“I ... well ... I guess you are.”“So you have nothing to be angry about at all, do you?” I asked.He shook his head. I pulled the panties from him, some of my cream coating his.
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