It was well past 9:00 p.m. when the phone rang about a week later. I was surprised to hear Mr. Damon on the other end of the line.
"Chloe," he said, "Chuck and I have been discussing you here over drinks this evening and have decided we'd like a little more of your tight little cunt. Well, I've decided that. Actually, Chuck wants your mouth again."
I was stunned, he was obviously a little inebriated, and not knowing exactly how to respond to such overt and startlingly coarse language, I could do little more than tremble, "Yes, okay."
"Anyway, here's what we want," obviously not attuned to the trepidation in my voice. "Tell Joey that there's an emergency at work and we need you here right away. We want you dressed in a coat and that's all. Nothing underneath. What? Hold on, Chloe.... Chuck wants you in a garter belt and black stockings, nothing else."
"I don't have a garter belt," I whispered shielding the phone, fearing Joey would hear.
"She doesn't have a garter belt....Okay, I'll ask her. You got black thigh highs?"
"Yes," I stammered.
"Thigh highs and heels then. Nothing else. No panties. Nothing. You got that?"
"Yes, sir," I answered nervously.
"When you get to the parking lot, call us. We'll tell you what we want next."
I could hear Chuck laughing in the background. I had a feeling that I would be used again by both Mr. Damon and Mr. Compton, but I hoped not so abruptly and so crudely. I was frankly reluctant to go, but having been unable to indicate that, I felt I had no choice now but to obey.
I went into the living room where Joey and I had been watching a movie and told him what Mr. Damon had told me. He looked puzzled, but told me to be careful and call him when I got there. He'd wait up for me.
I told him that wasn't necessary, that I'd likely be late, slipped back into the bedroom, and nervously stripped. I think it was only then, while I was actually undressing as I was told to, that I realized I was in fact going to do this. When I stopped anxiously to check my naked body in the mirror to ensure that it would be pleasing to the men, I knew I was truly lost. I slipped my coat over my nakedness and left the bedroom.
I kissed Joey goodbye, scared to death that he would sense my bareness beneath the coat. My heart was racing as I walked to the car, both in fear and excitement.
I called Mr. Damon from the parking lot, and he told me the night watchman would let me in the back door and escort me to the elevator. He told me to leave the jacket on but unbutton it completely. The night watchman, a guy about my age that I had innocently flirted with many times, gave me such a strange look. It almost made me blush. With my coat unbuttoned, my nakedness was dramatically evident. I couldn't imagine what he must be thinking.
At Mr. Damon's office, I knocked nervously on the door. Mr. Compton answered and let me in to a rather dimly lit office and the distinct aroma of cigars. I saw Mr. Damon sitting on the sofa near his desk and standing just to his right a tall, distinguished looking older gentleman smoking a cigar and holding a glass of something in his hand.
"This is the girl we were talking about, Giles," Mr. Compton said, ushering me into the room. "Chloe, this is Giles Stanford."
I was a bit taken aback. First, I hadn't expected anyone other than Mr. Damon and Mr. Compton, and second I certainly wasn't expecting to see Giles Stanford, the man whose father founded the company.
"Beautiful young woman," Mr. Stanford said, looking at me intently. He had a deep and intimidating voice, a voice that just seemed innately to command respect and one that literally put chills down my back. He was handsome in the way that older, powerful men who are confident in their place in the social order seem to exhibit naturally, and he was impeccably dressed. Even Mr. Damon and Mr. Compton were in obvious awe of the man. And I most certainly was.
"Take your coat off, Chloe," Mr. Damon ordered abruptly. "I think you'll be impressed with this, Giles," he said, turning to Mr. Stanford. "Not only with her beautify but with her obedience."
I was not ready for this. Both Mr. Damon and Mr. Compton had made it clear to me after they first took me that I was in fact their property now, but I don't think I completely understood until just this minute. I knew that I had not actually given myself as property to Mr. Damon and Mr. Compton, as I had to Derrick. This was far different. No, I hadn't "given" myself to them; they had simply taken me.
It's very hard for me to explain, even to myself, but when Mr. Damon raped me, I understood that he did so because he knew he could. He wanted me, and the fact that I was married meant nothing to him. He took what he wanted, and he wanted me. My husband sadly was unable to protect me. Simply put, a more powerful man had taken what he had and now owned it in ways Joey could never emulate. And in truth, I was more naturally bound now to Mr. Damon and Mr. Compton than to Derrick. What I gave I to Derrick I could take back. But what was taken was forever theirs.
Understand I did and do love Joey. I have always done my best to please him and to build his confidence around other men. It really did please me to be his "arm candy," but at the same time he put our relationship at risk by displaying me that way. My beauty, my sex were his badge of manhood, but when a stronger man simply took what he saw displayed, took ownership of it as his natural right, as Mr. Damon had done that afternoon in his office, I had no choice but to surrender. It just seems a natural law that that's the way it must be. Like Darwin proved, these men were superior and had an innate right to strew their genes where they choose. This was much bigger than Joey. Much bigger than Derrick.
This wasn't at all like my submission to Derrick. As I said, that was totally willing on my part. But the funny thing was, the distressing thing, actually, was that standing there in front of these powerful men it came to me in a dazzling image, that their taking me simply because they could had bound me to them in ways that my easy submission to Derrick could never. I truly was their property. Their captured property. Their booty.
"The coat, Chloe," Mr. Damon said again, snapping me out of my reverie. I knew my next decision would unalterably mark me as "property," but I also knew that decision had already been made last weekend when they simply took their property from Joey and enjoyed it. I slowly pulled the coat from my shoulders and let it fall to my feet.
"Well," Mr. Stanford exclaimed. "Where did you find this? I see a ring on her finger. She married?" he said, walking over to me, his eyes fixed firmly on my body.
"Some auto parts clerk or something. Nothing to worry about."
"Nothing to worry about, Honey?" Mr. Stanford asked, extending his hand and cupping my left breast, never once glancing at my face.
"No," I murmured.
"I've never seen tits this large and so perfectly formed," he said, addressing Mr. Damon. "In size and shape they almost look like implants, but they're very obviously not," he added, now kneading my breast and squeezing my nipples. "Tiny waist. This is a rare find. And she's a good fuck, you say?"
