The President's Club That had been two weeks ago. Karin had crawled painfully up the stairs out of the basement, then up more stairs to her room. She hurt all over. She was confused. The next day, she was efficiently moved to a small apartment in one of the company’s commercial warehouses downtown. Not an excess word was exchanged between the three of them. Bill had the cook had come in to her room early in the morning and pack a few of her things while she was in the shower. By the time she made her way out of the bathroom, there was a pair of shorts and a halter-top laid out on the bed. She dressed herself in those and she left the mansion in a taxi. She wasn’t offered any breakfast. The building they moved her into was in one of the older industrial sections of town. The apartment had it's own separate entrance via the parking garage. Originally it had been designed to house an on-site General Manager of a factory. Built in the twenties or thirties, it was big and solid. One of the previous owners had sealed off and isolated from the work area. The factory was long since abandoned, and the building was now used as an overflow storehouse for raw materials. The inside of the warehouse was gritty with dirt, vermin and disuse. The apartment, although separate, had been vacant for a long time and some of the grime of the warehouse filtered into it. It was dirty, smelly, and in the middle of nowhere. As far as she knew, Bill had intended this to be an insult to her. She identified with the little apartment, however. It felt like she and it belonged together. Just before she had closed the door to the taxi, the cook had shoved an envelope into her hands. She sat down and read the short, terse note inside. She learned that Bill had provided her a bank account. Each week, money would be deposited into the account automatically, provided she 'behaved herself.' Food would be delivered by a ‘local’ store, all she had to do was call and order. There were directions for her to go shopping for a suitable dress at a fancy boutique the next week. Bill would have been astonished had he seen his beaten wife’s expression. Karin was literally astonished at her new wealth and the wonderful apartment. She had more money now than she ever had before, and she was happy to be alone on her own. She sat for a long time on the dirty couch, hugging herself, laughing joyously at her freedom. She immediately threw herself into various diversions. Part of the first day was spent examining the rooms, determining what needed to be done to fix up the old apartment. There was surprisingly little to do, other than cleaning. It had apparently been a luxury apartment at one time with an extra-large bath, a beautiful rooftop patio with a hot tub, and good quality solid furniture. But that had been several years ago, as was obvious from the out of date fabric and fashion of the furnishings. Karin had plunged into what she knew best. Hell, it was all she knew how to do. Housework. She had swept and cleaned and scrubbed, put up new drapes. dusted and swept and mopped the floors. The activity helped keep her mind occupied. For about a day and a half. Then she set about re-arranging the furniture to her liking. During the re-arranging process, she discovered that Bill had lived in the apartment, long ago, when he was just starting out. This must have been one of the first buildings to house his company’s manufacturing plant. She discovered a section of a diary kept by a much younger Bill. The bound notebook had been wedged down behind a section of a bookcase and the wall. It had apparently fallen down and was forgotten when he moved out. She didn’t know at first what it was and was about to toss it out when a clipping from an old newspaper fluttered to the ground. Picking up the clipping, she read it. Her interest piqued, she leafed through the book, looking for other information. What she found stunned her. The diary picked up in the middle of an involved plot, as this was just one section of a multi-volume diary. The more she read, the more familiar names she read, names she had heard in the last six months. They were the names of Bill’s competitors and clients. Some were unfamiliar. But she got the gist of it. In Bill’s own writing were detailed plots he had made to destroy one of his rivals. As far as she could see, the only thing the rival had done was to be an honest businessman. There were several sneering passages about how goody-goody the bastard was. At first, she thought the plotting had just been theories, mock rage stuff. Then, as she read the daily entries, the chilling story unfolded. It told how, after careful planning, Bill had set in motion a fabrication of lies and half-truths that had wiped the man out. The passages became savage, describing the depths to which the man had fallen. Bill described how the man had come to him, not knowing it had been Bill who had planned and started the whole thing. Bill described how he had ‘helped’ the guy out – for a price, of course. That price was a partnership in the failing company. What chilled Karin to the bone was that the old newspaper clipping was the story of the gruesome murder-suicide of the broken man and his wife. A couple of the passages in the diary led her to believe it had not been a voluntary suicide, but that someone, namely Bill, had been there to help him out of his misery. The same misery Bill had put him in. The thought that Bill was that calculating, that cold, that unfeeling hit her like a hammer. It suddenly became very clear to her that she had to grow up, take charge of her life. Now, this didn’t happen like a bolt of lightning from the sky, but the mental shift was there. Being alone and on her own for the first time helped. But she also realized that she was totally unprepared for living in a cruel world. Such deep thoughts were frightening to her. She tried to keep as busy as she could during the day by exploring the blocks surrounding the apartment. She would walk for hours, pushing her body until the soreness from the beating was indistinguishable from the soreness of the overworked muscles. Gradually, she healed. She was even able to wear heavier blouses and shirts over her tenderized breasts. She had been receiving a lot of cat-calls and wolf whistles on her walks around the area. Some of the guys were gross, but a couple of them were cute, too. Although she still wasn’t comfortable with all the attention blatant sexuality, she was making tremendous strides in her level of self-confidence. Besides, she kind of liked turning on all those men. She had discovered, drained, cleaned and filled the hot tub on the terrace, and was pleasantly surprised when it ran perfectly. It had been an exorbitant luxury when it was installed 20-25 years ago and it had been built to last. She enjoyed the hot soothing bubbling water often in the evenings. It felt so decadent to be naked in the middle of downtown and outside in the open air. She spent hours soaking in the bubbling water, letting the soothing currents soak away the last of her aches and pains. She kind of zoned out in the hot tub. The cares of the day and the fears of tomorrow faded away. But eventually she had to get out of the water. To try to sleep. It seemed to her that she would lay in bed all night long as her thoughts raced forwards to her date. She wondered what the man would be like. What would he ask her to do? Could she do it? Could she not do it? Then the itching would start. It was the kind of itch she couldn't quite scratch. But she tried to and she would almost succeed. She would then remember those intense feelings she had felt in the basement at the hands of those two sadistic brutes. Fresh tears of humiliation would fill her eyes as she realized just how turned on she had been at the rough treatment they had given her. Her cheeks would flame red with her shame, but even embarrassment could not diminish the rising urgency of her need. Pushing her shame aside, she focused on trying to feel that same sexual rush again. Her fingers blurred in between her legs in frustrated persistence as the itch wouldn't go away and she couldn't get off. After several frustrating nights, she started doing things to try to get herself off. Like pinching her nipples hard. Like Bill had done that night that had felt soooo goood. That stimulus worked for a while, but it wasn't enough. Something was missing. She started to play with some old cords from the drapes, first twisting them around her legs, binding them tightly together. The heat she felt in her sex told her she was on the right track. While her feet and legs were tied, she fantasized about being totally controlled, totally restrained. The idea made her hotter and wetter between her legs. She tried running the cords through her legs and pulling the twisted strands up tight against her pussy. She twisted the ends in her hands and sawed the braided coarse rope back and forth across her clit. She managed to cum a couple of times that way, too, but something was still missing. These limited excursions led to her attempting full self- bondage. First she would tie her ankles together and secure them to the foot of the bed with a short rope. She tied her knees together next. She put another band of cords across her calves and one around her mid-thighs. Again, the tightly tied ropes cut into her skin, dividing her shapely pins into segments. She would then twist a rope belt around her waist and knot it tight, squeezing in her waspish waist. She could then run a rope through her tightly closed thighs. She tied one end to the belt in the small of her back and pulled the rope in front up tight between her cunt lips so that it pressed against her clit and her asshole. She didn't tie the front until later. She had pondered what to do about her breasts, and had tried many ways to stimulate them. She finally came up with a way that satisfied her. A loop of thin cord was placed around the base of each tit, hard against her chest. She pulled each of the loops tight as if to try to separate her tits from her chest. A second loop placed about midway up around each ballooning boob was tied with a slipknot. She held the ends of those in her mouth. She then pulled the cunt cord firmly into her pussy and tied it to the corded belt in front. A cord looped around the post in the headboard ended in a slipknot to hold her hands up over her head. By pulling the knot tight after raising her arms over her head and slipping her hands through the slip knot, she could close her eyes and pretend she was tied tight, thrashing around on the over-sized canopied bed. She would spend hours in this position at night working out her sexual frustrations, flexing her hips to rub the cord against her magic button, stimulating herself to orgasm after orgasm. But there was still something missing. It just wasn’t complete, somehow. She was frustrated that she had to leave an escape route by tying a bowknot in the cord that tied her arms to the headboard. The only time she really got off and lost herself in the feeling of helplessness was the time the cord holding her arms over her head twisted and got a kink in it. The knot stuck and there was a half-hour of panic-filled orgasmic struggling. She so enjoyed that time, she seriously contemplated not using an escape route and just masturbating herself until she died of starvation. But if she did that, she would miss her appointment with the mysterious stranger. And that date and that unknown man were becoming increasingly important to her. Call it curiosity, call it duty. She didn't know. All she knew was that he was important to Bill and that Bill owed him something. She felt no loyalty to her faux husband anymore, but she had said she would do this. Her word had to mean something, right? Added to all of the mysteriousness was one burning bit of information. Probably the most important one to her. As she had left the mansion for the last time, Bruce had maliciously pulled her aside. With evil intent, he had instructed her very specifically to ask the man she was going out with to do something to her. Something kinky. She was to ask him to tie her up and then to spank her. While telling her to do this, Bruce had threatened her with a very large knife that had frightened her terribly, especially because Bruce was the one holding it and she thought he was crazy. Bruce had intended that this information about what she was suppose to ask the man to do to her that night would terrorize her, scare her out of her mind. It did just the opposite. Those sinister instructions he had whispered to her fed her nighttime fantasies. She was very much looking forward to her 'date' with the mysterious man. ----------------------------------------------------------- ---- Karin shook her head to clear these thoughts. She still stood in front of the full-length mirror on her closet door. She had deliberated a long time about what she would wear tonight. She had spent longer shopping at the exclusive boutique. She didn't know her mystery man’s name, or anything about him. He was just a blind date she was to ask to do kinky things to her. The titillating thrill had a slight taste of fear mixed in as it swept through her at the thought of the unknown adventure on which she was embarking. Goose bumps rose on her silky skin. She watched in the mirror as the tiny bumps slowly faded away and she shivered again. Her perfect, silky skin covering her breasts was clear once more. The effects of the beating and rape by Bill and Bruce had faded on her skin, if not in her memory. She examined her youthful body closely. Other than the goose bumps that were still visible on the rosy tips of her breasts, her body was flawless. The bumps on her boobs made a miniature circular mountain range with the semi-erect nipple in the center. Her breasts rode firm and high on her chest, the effects of age and gravity not yet evident. Small triangular patches of creamy white skin surrounded by a golden tan indicated the minuscule size of her bikini top. A similar white triangle pointed like an arrow to the secret place between her legs. The rest of her body was a healthy golden tan, but not a deep one. She did not want to have to deal with anymore wrinkles than she had to later on in life. She pulled on a thin black thong panty that just covered the white triangle. It would be her sole undergarment tonight. Her nylon stockings gripped the tops of her shapely thighs. Her long legs were accented by the sheen of the fabric. The distinctly feminine curves of her upper thighs held them up with ease, with no need for garters or leg bands. She had to honestly evaluate herself as beautiful and desirable. This ability to appraise herself honestly was new to her. Her shyness was rapidly slipping away as she turned into a woman who would make her own decisions from now on. Why a man had never fuck her was a mystery to her, especially as she had been married for six months! Her increased sexual tensions in the last two weeks heightened her awareness of her sensuality and sex appeal. She was going to go all out tonight. She wanted to be fucked, and soon. Picking up her dress, she slipped it over her head and let it settle gracefully over her trim body. The dress was ivory white on top with a jet-black micro skirt. The fabric was translucent and filmy, like fine satin. Reaching behind her waist, she zipped up the short zipper and fastened the single hook closure at the top. This pulled the close-fitting material in tight across her upper thighs, hips, and lower abdomen. She looked closely and could see the faint dark outline of the black panties over her pubic patch, as well as every hair, dimple and ripple as she moved. The stretchy fabric molded to her like a second skin and it would be obvious to everyone who looked exactly what she was wearing underneath her short skirt. There was no back to the upper part of the dress starting from the top of the skirt. The creamy white front panel hung loosely around her body, dangling precariously from a pair of fragile thin spaghetti straps that tied behind her neck. Karin tied the straps a couple of times, adjusting the scooped neck to hang at different levels, finally deciding on a length that allowed the front of the dress to readily fall away from her chest. When that happened, it exposed her completely from her neck to her navel. When she twirled around, the wind would catch the sides of the dress, billowing them out to expose her magnificent breasts from the sides. "Well, that should give him an eye-full!" she said to no one in particular. She experimented with the dress, spinning around a couple of times. "I hope he likes it. I know I do." She selected a pair of high heels that accentuated her height. The five-inch heels pushed her to almost six and a half feet tall. She had no idea of the devastating impact her height would have on a short man or one of average stature. She only knew she looked very sexy in these heels, and she wanted to look sexy for this mystery man. How would he know she wanted him to fuck her senseless if she didn’t look sexy for him? She had just thrown a sheer white shawl around her shoulders when the limo arrived in the downstairs parking garage. Just like his message had said. The note, with a white wrist corsage, had been delivered to her apartment this morning. There was no name, just that a driver would show for her at 6:00 sharp, and to please be prompt. The driver got out of the car and rang the bell. She hurried to the elevator and went down to meet the waiting driver. The stoic chauffeur gave a visible start when he saw the extraordinary beauty who stood in the open elevator. He gave an embarrassed grin at his lapse, then bowed formally and opened the rear door of the limo for her. She stepped gracefully into the luxurious passenger area and settled back into a decadently soft leather seat. The windows were tinted so dark, Karin imagined she could be naked and no one outside would know. A glass of freshly poured champagne was waiting for her on the small tray beside her seat. She picked it up and took a sip. It was delicious and the bubbles tickled her nose. She hardly noticed they had pulled away from the curb and were on the way to meet her mysterious man. Two glasses of bubbly later the car drove into the underground garage of a large downtown corporate building. The driver pulled up next to a brightly-lit elevator door. "Top floor, Miss," said the driver, turning around. He paused, stunned once more by her beauty. Uncharacteristically he added, "Have a good time." She flashed him a sincere 'Thank you' smile and stepped out of the car. Her 5-inch heels caught her by surprise when she took her first steps. She stumbled slightly when one slipped off her foot. She was not quite used to wearing them. The alcohol made her kind of tipsy, as well. As she bent to retrieve her errant shoe, she thought of the childhood fairy tale and the glass slipper. An uncharacteristic giggle took control of her and eased some of the building tension in her. Finished putting her shoe on, she stood and walked purposefully over to the open elevator. She stepped in, surveyed her options, and giggled again. No more champagne for her! She paused and took a deep breath, clearing her head. This was it, time to get serious. She pushed the top button, waving goodbye to the driver as the door closed on her past. She was on her way. She wondered if Cinderella had been this scared on her way to the ball.