A Castle of Sand by LongDarkRoad
Chapter 18 Bad Moon Rising
“…I see the bad moon a-rising, I see trouble on the way; I see earthquakes and lightning, I see bad times today…”
Jade, Lucy Nagy’s assistant, let her know her long distance call from New York was returned and the party was waiting. “Eddie?” Nagy murmured, taking a drag from her cigarette holder.
“Miss Lu, my pleasure, doll. Great to hear ‘dat voice o’ yours,” he chuckled. “I know ‘da Cold War is still on when I talks with youse, doll.” They both laughed. “So, is it business or pleasure?” he asked.
“You know me, my friend, my business is pleasure.” They both laughed again. “Anyway, just getting back to you; it’s been a month since the Warhol film, the city still goes on? No raging do-gooders roaming the streets attacking smut? No bible-thumpers screaming about Hell-fire damnation?”
“Ha, naw, too busy with all the shit from the whole Stonewall thing; there’s been more violence on the streets and the cops are all on ‘dat. But Blue Movie has really opened some eyes, and I mean ‘dat literally, doll.”
Nagy smiled. “My associates are setting up shop there right now; in fact, they shot a couple of short films this week, just using local hookers.”
“You are, as always, on top o’ things, Lu. They’re calling it the porn explosion, even if nobody knows what porn is.” Eddie laughed, sounding a little like a donkey. “But if we’re talking dicks in pussies, then ‘dat’s porn, I guess. An’ people are eatin’ it up, Lu. Eatin’ it up.”
Nagy laughed. “I like the sound of that, and I can send people to you, personally, and you’ll look after things?”
“Absolutely, doll. You’re thinkin’ of usin’ your own girls?”
Nagy tapped her smoke onto the ashtray, “That I am. My girls are gorgeous, it’s my trademark, and if you like seeing a woman actually fucking, for real, then you’ll like it even more when it’s a beautiful woman.”
“You got production?”
“I do. It’s actually one of Warhol’s people, from the Factory.” She paused, “I have one of his early pieces you know, in my place in L.A. A silkscreen.”
“No shit,” Eddie marvelled, “You always had the eye, doll. Right from the start.”
* * * *
The large car picked Christine up outside the house and it was again just her and the driver. Fifteen minutes later she was riding the elevator up to the ninth floor, and when the doors opened, the smirking face of Hyun greeted her. She was dressed today, at least right now.
“Ah, our dirty whore. Come this way.” Hyun entered what was the adjoining room to the one the men were in, and had Christine strip and kneel. Cuffing her hands behind her, Hyun sat on the bed and lifted her skirt to reveal the black nylons and no panties once again. “We have a few minutes, so you can be of some use,” Hyun smirked, pulling Christine’s face into her crotch.
* * * *
“Madame Lu?” Lana asked, although she knew; the voice was very distinctive; nasally, precise, and with a definite eastern European accent, even after all these years. ‘Why should I change, she had said, it’s my trademark’.
“Ah, Lana. So I heard that Mr. Winters was pleased, very pleased, and has asked that when he’s back, you are reserved for him. I told him that would cost him and he said, “it’s worth every penny.”
Lana chuckled, “Well, glad the customer’s happy and, I have your cash. I’ll bring it tomorrow when Christine and I drop by. Eight o’clock still work?”
“Absolutely, my dear. Can’t wait to see you, and not just for the money, either.”
They both smiled.
* * * *
For the first half hour, Christine had been ‘dressed’ in a G-string and a see-through bra, but after everyone (there were seven Korean gentlemen, playing cards or watching a stag film that was displayed on one wall) had had a drink, Christine’s tiny outfit was removed.
The men had pawed and fondled her from the start and that continued for the next thirty minutes until Hyun took her into the bedroom. There she was tied on her back, spread-eagle on the bed. During the ‘session’, Hyun knelt by the bed and sucked the men and made sure they had their condoms on; it was a steady stream for the next hour.
At that point, Christine was untied, turned on her stomach and tied again. Hyun then massaged some Vaseline into her anus and stretched it with her fingers, although the first man to enjoy this new position just used her vagina. The next three, however, fucked the lovely, prepared asshole. One man was so energetic that Hyun mentally named him ‘Mr. Rabbit’.
By the end of this hour, everyone had come at least once, and most of the men were now focused on the card game or having a final drink. Christine was brought out to serve drinks again; over the final hour she ended up sucking two men, one who managed to come again, on her breasts this time.
At eleven the men began to depart and Christine was sent to shower, Hyun giving her the special soap. Coming out of the shower, the men now all departed, Hyun directed Christine to kneel by the bed, and bound her wrists again, then forced panties into Christine’s mouth and proceeded to spank her with a small, wooden paddle, until she was bucking and moaning, her ass a bright red.
Hyun took the panties from Christine’s mouth then and sat in an armchair, placing the ‘slave’ on her knees in front of her; Christine began licking without any direction, Hyun leaning back and sighing. In about fifteen minutes, Hyun shook, her vagina actually squirting out a little liquid, and then she giggled, laying back and breathing slowly, a smile on her face.
Suddenly gripping Christine’s hair forcefully, Hyun looked into the brown eyes and said, “You know we are leaving the country?” Christine nodded. “The Madame wishes to take you, filthy whore, with us.” Christine nodded again; Hyun smiled an unpleasant smile, then spit on Christine’s face, but at least not in her mouth this time.
“I would be the one looking after you, bitch,” she hissed, menacingly. “I look after all of the Madame’s slaves.” She smiled as Christine registered surprise. “Oh yes, filthy cunt-slave, Madame has four slaves waiting for her, and every day, like them, you will be allowed to lick my asshole and make it perfectly clean.” She grinned this time, fondling Christine’s lovely hair.
“The first thing we will do, is shave your head; all the slaves are shaved completely; they have no hair on their bodies, not even eyebrows. Then you are branded, with the Madame’s mark, right here,” Hyun tapped with her toe just above Christine’s cleft and labia, “and a permanent collar is attached; it is metal and can only be removed by cutting it off, which is very difficult.”
“You are always naked and of course whipped every day, for amusement and discipline. When you piss or shit everyone watches. And being new, you will be Madame’s piss-slave, drinking it for the first month or so, as it should not be wasted. Rings will be put through your nipples and through your pussy lips, so that you can be attached and displayed. Being a white, filthy whore, you will be displayed and abused a lot, because you are inferior.”
The woman paused and regarded Christine with hostility, if not hatred. “And that first week, well, you are fucked, for three or four days in a row. You are tied, just like tonight, but on a wooden pallet and then soldiers are brought in, one after the other, there’s a line of them, and you suck and fuck until you are about to go insane. And then, I can tell you, bitch, you never want to see another cock again in your life.”
Hyun put her head back and laughed and Christine stared in horror.
* * * *
“Doesn’t it ever bother you?” Laverne asked, quietly. She knew this was dangerous territory, but the news that night, with its images of mangled bodies being carried from fields, had stayed with her.
“Doesn’t what, ever bother me?” Frank replied, sipping his whiskey.
“That you’re part of the, ummm, machine, the war machine, that has all this death and destruction going on?”
Frank pondered; this was not a topic Laverne ever broached, but there had been so much negative press that even women like her, basic housewives, were asking questions. That was not good. “Well, you don’t always have a choice, my dear. The communists aren’t going to go away quietly.”
Laverne struggled with her doubts. There was a time she wouldn’t have cared; but for some reason Anne had turned her eyes to these issues, and now she had questions. “But we’re, in America I mean; we’re not threatened by the communists.”
Frank sighed, “Well, not directly, maybe, but look at England in the big war; they ignored Germany because ‘it didn’t concern them’, and look what happened; they came close to being overrun. We can’t grow complacent, dear, that’s what they want.”
Laverne paused. “And it, um, has nothing to do with American companies that have interests in other countries, and the business of, well, war…”
Franks sighed again, this time a little louder. “What are you getting at; that sounds like some left-wing nonsense to me, dear?” Frank replied wearily.
Laverne looked at him; she knew he didn’t take her seriously; she was there to help his career, not to pester him with questions; but she wasn’t some wet-behind-the-ears kid.
“You forget; I worked for United Fruit, Frank. I know how our government interfered there, in Central America. It gave the company a green light to make profits hand-over-fist, and then accepted those generous campaign donations, and weren’t concerned about any dead civilians. And they warned about the commies back then, too.”
They sat in silence, and Frank finished his drink, then stood. “You need to watch less television, dear,” he said, heading for a refill.
* * * *
Although it was past midnight, Christine was sitting once again on her front steps. She needed air; her mind was in disarray, her thoughts, as the song said, were ‘distracted and confused’. How to separate her intense feelings and desire for Madame Dhang from the images Hyun had shared. Christine was certain Hyun was exaggerating, but how much?
She rose slowly and went inside. In their room, Gerry was lying on her bed in a T-shirt and her panties, one meagre bed light dimly illuminating the space; “Hey there, Tiger, how’d things go?” She asked.
Christine undressed and put on her robe. “I made it through and no one died,” she smiled, “back in a minute, Miss Gerry.”
Again, Christine took extra time brushing her teeth; no one had come in her mouth tonight, but she had sucked several cocks and licked the odious Hyun; she used the strong-tasting mouthwash as well, then headed back to the room. Dropping her robe on the bed, she moved closer to Gerry and stood, then began to slowly fondle her breasts. “Anything you’d like me to do, Miss Gerry?” Christine crooned, again needing intimacy, her kind, to take the place of the men and all the shadows Hyun had conjured up.
Once again, her very active night had meant nothing to her emotionally, and now she wanted to be with someone, to have sex with someone, she felt something for.
Gerry sat up and smiled, “Pull those tits more whore, stretch your nipples.” Christine complied, arousal building quickly. I want it, she thought, I really want it; she herself had not climaxed this evening, (not even close) unlike everyone else. “Like this Miss Gerry?” she murmured.
Gerry chuckled, then paused, “Hey, Slave-girl, do you still have that collar you bought?”
Christine stopped, thinking Margie had shared a lot, then moved over to her desk, taking the collar out from its place in a bottom drawer, she held it up. “Put it on, and crawl over to me, like an obedient dog,” Gerry smiled.
Christine did this, then came slowly on her knees to the bed, kneeling and looking up at the dark woman. Gerry stood and slowly pulled down her panties, then lifted Christine’s face, “Beg,” she murmured.
Christine moaned softly, delighted at the strong surge of desire now stirring within her. “Please, mmmmm, please Miss Gerry, please let me serve you.”
Gerry gripped Christine’s hair and brought her face to within an inch of her luxurious bush, “What do you want to do, Whore. Say it.”
“Uunnnngg, mmm, oh jeez, oh jeez, jeez, jeez,” Christine chuckled softly. “Mmmmm, please, Miss Gerry, let me lick your p-pussy. Mmmmm, please, oh Gaaawd…”
“My cunt,” Gerry said firmly, “Say it.”
“Mmmm, I want to lick your c-cunt, mmmm, plea…” Gerry pulled Christine’s face between her legs, grinding her crotch and moaning, then falling back on the bed as
Christine began to hungrily devour the thick, dark labia.
“Unnngggg, mmmm, oh jeez, I love your, cunt, Miss Gerry. I love it, mmmmm,” Christine cried out. And it was true. None of the cocks tonight had meant anything; they were just things attached to faceless men. This was real.
Then soft moans filled the room.
* * * *
The morning started with a jolt. “Hey Christine, you’re wanted out front!” Dolly had shouted from the main floor, and there was a scramble now to grab slacks, bra and shirt, as, at the moment of the call, Gerry had been sitting on Christine’s face, both of them naked.
Outside waiting was the usual large, dark automobile, and when Christine approached, the rear door opened to reveal Douglas Silverberg, sitting. He moved back to allow his guest room, saying, “Very sorry to disturb your Saturday, unannounced, Miss Callister, but time is pressing.” The man seemed nervous, or ill at ease, at least.
“That’s okay, Sir. What is it?” Christine murmured.
Silverberg now made eye contact and used his resolve to hold it, saying, “Mrs. Sullivan has talked with you and notified me of the request, the um, unusual request, regarding you, from Miss Dhang.”
Christine fought the rising panic within her and the growing lump to reply, “Yes, she has, we’ve, um, talked…”
Silverberg cleared his throat and began. “You realize of course the value we have placed in the, er, negotiations with the Koreans, and the, well, we really hope to keep this deal working.”
“I, um, understand that, Sir. And, I’m guessing you know, that M-madame Dhang has asked me to accompany her. Is that why you’re here, to encourage me, to, go?”
Silverberg now looked down, and was not able to make eye contact again. He understood very clearly the incredible opportunity to have ‘one of his own’ planted within the Korean group. He had pondered over how to do this for weeks, and here it was, being gifted to them. Yet to counsel a young woman, barely older than his own daughter, to leave her country and accept a totally unknown consequence was extremely distasteful.
“Well, yes, I guess I am. I just want, well, you see, to make sure you understand the importance of this, what good might come from this…” Silverberg paused, as he happened to glance up and noticed Christine was sitting with her head bowed, her hands folded on her lap. He knew she was crying, but continued. “Many are asked to make sacrifices for their country, Miss Callister, for the greater good…”
They sat then in an awkward silence. Christine wiped her eyes and straightened up, saying quietly, “I, um, need to talk with Madame Dhang, then I will, mmmm, let you know.” She slid across the seat and opened the door before the driver could come around, and then she hurried up the walk and then up the steps.
The driver looked inside, “Back to the office, Sir?” Silverberg nodded, feeling angry and, dirty. This was the bullshit that he hated; thankfully, it only happened now and then.
* * * *
“Okay, so now you need to wait for the queen to contact you, if she will?” Lana said quietly. She and Christine had just spent twenty minutes with a review of the previous night and now today’s developments.
“Well, she said she would need to know, so I expect her to call, or something.” Christine stated, glad for Lana’s counsel. She reached across and stroked the long, elegant hand.
“You should call her hotel, and leave word. Don’t just sit around, waiting,” Lana offered.
Christine pondered that, and then went inside to the telephone.
* * * *
For the second time that day, now just past noon, Christine went out to meet someone in a large, dark vehicle. She slid in again; Dhang’s car always had a pleasant odor, a mixture of leather and the woman herself. Dhang smiled her persuasive smile, “Strip, sweet whore,” she said, without emotion.
Christine hesitated, “I just have a couple of questions,” she said, feeling a mix of arousal, anxiety and plain excitement.
“If you are not naked before me, there will be no discussion,” Dhang murmured in her captivating voice.
Christine hesitated again, then somehow found the will to turn and grip the door handle, Hyun’s words rising in her mind.
“Stay,” Dhang said, with a hint of annoyance, “quickly ask your question, but be prepared to accept your punishment for disobeying.”
Heart pounding as usual, Christine turned to face the woman. “Do you have other slaves?” she said quietly.
Dhang made a motion as if a fly was near her face. “I have four, if that is any of your business, but you would be my special one,” her eyes twinkled, and she reached out a hand to touch Christine’s.
“Your slaves are punished, every day?”
Dhang made a face, “Of course, I’ve told you, slaves need whipping. But you like punishment, and more importantly, you need punishment. You know this, my whore. And the punishment is always given with others present, which you also enjoy. And afterward, always, comes the pleasure. You know how I can bring you there, the punishment and the pleasure, they go together. This is not news, my pretty. And you love the pleasure, do not try to deny it.”
Feeling her confidence beginning to wane under the power of this woman, Christine asked bluntly, “Will my hair be shaved?”
Dhang paused for a moment. “I see young Hyun has been talking; I will deal with that.” She paused again, considering; clearly this was not something Hyun was supposed to disclose. “Slaves must be clean, always; the easiest way for you and I, is if the hair is removed. But you are covered anyway, my sweet. Your head and the top of your face is always covered.”
“Why?” Christine asked in amazement.
Dhang glanced at her watch. “You have two minutes more of my time; is that a question you need answered?”
Christine held her ground, “Yes, it is.”
Dhang sighed. “Very well.”
She paused, looking at her ‘slave’ and considering. “My slaves have their bodies covered to communicate their, um, purpose. So your mouth, breasts, vagina, hands and ass are open, always and everywhere uncovered, for those are the parts that are used by me, that serve me. The rest of you, including your head, is covered.”
Christine paused, taking this in. “Am I, branded.”
Dhang set her face, and the iron in her being was clear; for a moment Christine thought the woman might strike her. “That is your final question, and the answer is of course, foolish whore. The brand communicates to the world that you are my property and must not be bothered with. Anyone who sees my mark knows the wearer is off limits, in every way. Even the police would not bother you.” She furrowed her brow. “Now, I will leave Tuesday at nine-thirty, which means I need you at my hotel Monday night. Are we clear?”
Dhang stared, and Christine slowly pulled the door handle and slid out. Looking back, she murmured, “Good-bye, Mistress.” Then she closed the door and headed up the walk.
* * * *
Now for the third time that day, and just past two, Christine went outside, but the car awaiting her was not large or dark, but the small vehicle of Julia Sullivan. Sitting in the passenger seat, she glanced over at the woman, who looked agitated.
“Good afternoon, Miss Callister. It’s been a, well, busy day, at least with the phone calls. Madame Dhang is concerned, making some negative comments. It’s a good thing we have those trade deals already signed and delivered.”
There was silence for a moment. “She’s upset because of me?” Christine asked, suddenly feeling like laughing at the absurdity.
Sullivan rubbed her nose. “Well, um, she’s upset with what appears to be your decision…”
Christine stared. “So, Mrs. Sullivan, if I am getting this right; Madame Dhang is upset with me not accompanying her back to Korea, and if the trade deals weren’t signed, she wouldn’t go through with them. Because of me?” Sullivan rubbed her nose again and looked uncomfortable. “Oh for heaven’s sakes, that is ridiculous, isn’t it? Well, I can’t believe it.”
There was silence again. “Well, there is some displeasure all round, Miss Callister. This seems to be a lost opportunity, that you’re, well, tossing away.”
Christine sat, and for the first time in the whole thing, began to feel anger, but she kept her voice calm and spoke quietly. “You do realize that I wouldn’t be going with her to work in her office and listen to any plans, don’t you, or do you even know? I would be going as her slave, for sex and service.” Christine paused, the anger and her voice rising, “I would be kept in her private residence with her other slaves to be used and shared with her friends. I doubt I would be privy to anything of any importance to our government, and I would be alone and beaten and punished for Dhang’s pleasure. I would be branded, for heaven’s sake. Is that the, um, opportunity I’m tossing aside?”
She stopped and looked at the other woman who was sitting in silence. “Well…” She paused, then uttered a word she never used, “Fuck all of you.”
Climbing out of the car and slamming the door, she marched for the third time back up the walk, not looking back. Sullivan sat for a moment, then drove away.
* * * *
“Hey, good for you,” Lana said, sitting beside Christine. They were in Lana’s room, Margie was not home and Christine, calmer now, had related the whole Dhang and Sullivan conversations. “I’m proud of you, and you know you made the right decision; the only decision? Yes?”
Christine nodded her head but remained silent. “Look,” Lana continued, “I know Dhang is there, in you, but it’s your need, it’s not her. You just have to find a way to deal with it, and committing your life to a stranger, moving away and giving up all you know, that’s not the way to deal with your need. You’ve only started to face it, Chris.” Lana kissed Christine gently on the lips and they held it before Lana then kissed her friend’s face several more times.
“Look, we’ll have dinner, and then we’ll go meet my friend, and then go for a drink and look at our options. Our options. You may have seen the last of Madame D, but you’ve got me, kid. And I ain’t a bad second choice, am I?”
Christine had to smile, looking into that beautiful face.
“You really told them to fuck themselves?” Lana asked with a smirk and Christine laughed and hugged her friend.
(End of Chapter 18)