TORTURED TEACHER Chapter 30 - wrap-up
Susie's sexual slavery was immediately terminated, of course, by the
discovery that Jim had been the architect of that slavery.
His death was just icing on the cake. The only reason that she had
submitted to the pain and indignities that had been her lot was the
fact that exposure of her "misdeeds" would have ruined (she thought)
her marriage and Jim's career future. Even if he had lived, she
would have been free of that awful hold. In fact, she mused, it would
have been sort of fun if he HAD lived -- and she could have flaunted
her freedom in his face.
Be that as it may, he was well beyond her reach now -- and he just might
be suffering some of the Hell's tortures that he had inflicted on her.
It was Angie who pointed out that Jim's death would affect her life in
another way. As his widow, she would inherit his possessions -- including
the Club itself. Well, she thought grimly, let's inventory my estate.
Fortunately, she had no more "customers" scheduled for the evening. Jim
never had let his "recreation" get in the way of her money-making duties.
Luckily also, she discovered, he kept his files in locked cabinets, and
carried the keys on his person. There were no tricky combination safes
to cope with.
One of her first discoveries was a not-unexpected cabinet full of pictures.
Pictures, filed and indexed carefully, showing Susie's customers at "work".
Pictures of the Mayor, of the Chief of police, of many of the "respectable"
and influential men and women of the town, engaging in sexual perversions.
Pictures that would ruin their lives, once the public found out. And
find out they would, Susie vowed, once she decided on the best way to
manage the disclosure. Maybe the Internet would do for starters . . .
But Angie had another idea. An idea that Susie would have found revolting
a year ago, but an idea that appealed to the ironic sense of humor that
she had developed during her months of slavery. The next day, the Club
was closed to "business", but Susie summoned several of her most prominent
male customers to listen to a short speech. And to view copies of some of the pictures.
"Of course," she concluded, "the best pictures have been moved to a safe
place -- a place where they can not fall into the wrong hands -- such as
yours. You have my word that you will be protected as long as you eagerly
carry out my wishes in every detail. But the minute any one of you rebels,
or grumbles, or demurs, his pictures will be published. And the pictures
of two or three of the rest of you may go along with them, so you will
find it wise to police one another's activities.
"And here's what you are going to do for me. . ."
There was to be protection, of course, of Susie and her activities. If she
should die, even of the most obviously natural causes, all pictures would
be released. There would be no economic or legal harassment. And -- the
meat of the plan -- "you gentlemen will now become MY slaves -- mine and
Angie's -- and will attend to our sexual needs. This may, of course entail
a bit of pain now and then". And the few other girls who had been Susie's
partners in slavery would also enjoy "privileges" at the Club, if they desired.
"However, it won't be all bad," she smiled. "During the times that you are
not serving me, you will still be able to use the full facilities of the
Club, although we're going to have a bit of turnover in the work force.
>From now on, the working girls will consist of the women that have been
our customers. I'm sure that you can find ways to induce them to co-operate,
even if the pictures of them that I have are not persuasive enough by themselves.
"I'm afraid that some of you will have a little discomfort here and there,"
she smiled cruelly, "as the axe may fall on some woman that you hold in
rather high regard. Your wives or sisters, perhaps. Or even your teen-age
daughters. But I'll let you work that out among yourselves. Just remember
that you are all in jeopardy. If one of you does not co-operate, several
may suffer. And you may get some consolation out of the fact that every
one of them will have been guilty of torturing the poor slave girls that
have been working here up to now.
"Oh, and one more thing. The very first women you are going to add to my
stable are the members of the bridge club to which I used to belong. Here
is a list of their names. And, as a first persuader, here are some
pictures that a friend of mine -- who shall be nameless (Angie grinned
silently) -- has taken of them abusing me when their husbands thought
that they were playing bridge.
"So, gentlemen, I thank you, and good night. You will please excuse me now;
Angie and I have some other business to attend to -- some infinitely more pleasant business. . ."
The END
