7
When Collins told her of his promise to Derek, the blonde girl had stood
quite still for a long moment, her face expressionless. Then she had swiftly
turned a deep red.
"You dirty bastard!" she whispered furiously.
Collins' eyebrows rose. "My, my," he said in a mocking tone. "Such
language, Miss Gordon." He leaned back comfortably in his chair, his hand
resting on the gun which lay on the desk before him. "I always keep my
promises," he went on. "Take off your clothes, please."
Her eyes flashed defiantly. "You go to hell!"
Very suddenly, all trace of amusement vanished from the seated man's
face. He straightened in the chair and raised the gun, pointing it directly at
her heart.
"You are in no position to defy me," he said harshly. "I have said I do
not wish to kill you, but that I will if necessary. Do not make it necessary. It
would be such a waste. Remove your clothing."
The girl swallowed hard, but did not move. She had begun to tremble, but
her voice when she spoke was clear. "If you kill me, you won't have kept your
promise, will you?"
Collins' eyes blazed. For a moment it seemed as if he would shoot her;
but then he relaxed. "Miss Gordon," he said softly, "it is going to afford me
great pleasure to tame you." He lowered the gun slightly. "But you are right. It
is not necessary to kill you. Suppose I simply shoot your kneecap off--just for
example. You wouldn't feel much like resisting me then, even if you could. And
not only would it be terribly painful, but you would never be able to walk
properly again. That would be a shame, with legs as beautiful as yours." The gun
lowered further, pointed steadily at her bare knee below the hem of her skirt.
But his eyes looked hard into hers. "I will do it, Miss Gordon, unless you do as
I say. That is my promise to YOU. Do you doubt me?"
Her eyes looked back at him for a long moment, expressionlessly. Then
they dropped. "No," she whispered.
"Good. Then you will do what I asked you to do?"
She bit her lips. "I--I--"
Collins sighed. "I am getting impatient, Miss Gordon," he said. "I will
count to five. At five, if you have not begun to undress, I will shoot. One."
The girl gulped audibly. "Look," she said hurriedly, with no defiance in
her tone now, "be reasonable. You can't expect me to just--"
"Two," Collins said.
"I can't... I... Listen, can't we--"
"Three."
"Oh, please..." There were tears in her eyes. "Please..."
"Four."
"Oh my god," she whispered, and her hands went to the buttons of her
sweater.
Collins smiled.
She kept her eyes on the floor as she began to unbutton the sweater. She
opened each button in turn. When there were no more buttons, she hesitated for a
moment. Then, with an obvious effort of will, she pulled the sweater open and
took it off.
The white brassiere she wore was filled with the abundance of her
lusciously swelling breasts, their exposed upper slopes rising and falling
provocatively with her agitated breathing. She stood awkwardly, the sweater
dangling from one hand, caught between shame and a conscious attempt to retain
her pride. Pride won momentarily as she raised her eyes to the face of the man
behind the desk.
"Just drop that, my dear," Collins murmured. "And take off that skirt.
I've been admiring your legs ever since you came in here. Let's see all of
them."
Her hand went to the waistband of her skirt, fumbling with the catch at
the side. Her eyes were stil on his, trying to maintain a vestige of dignity;
but as she released the catch and pushed the skirt down over her hips, they fell
again. The skirt dropped to the floor, leaving her a breathtaking sight in bra
and panties only.
"Beautiful," Collins said. "It would certainly have been unfortunate to
have had to put a hole in one of those legs." The hand holding the gun was
resting on his desk now, but the weapon was still pointing at her steadily.
"Continue, Miss Gordon. Or perhaps--now that we are on more...familiar
terms--perhaps I should call you by your first name. Joyce, isn't it? Very
pretty. Continue undressing, Joyce."
The girl's face was a deep red as, after a second's hesitation, she
slowly reached up behind her to open the clasp of her brassiere. Collins' eyes
glittered. The breathing of Derek, who had been standing silent and immobile to
one side, was suddenly audible in the room.
The brassiere came off.
Derek gasped.
Collins leaned back in his chair, feasting his eyes on the magnificent
naked breasts, relishing the perfection of their form and the delicate
coloration of the aureoles and nipples. And he allowed himself just one swift
visualization of the whip smashing across them...
The bra dropped from the girl's trembling fingers. She still kept her
eyes on the floor. She made no sound, but two small tears trickled down over her
cheeks.
Moments passed with no sound except for Derek's breathing. Collins
deliberately refrained from ordering her to remove her last garment. He knew she
was half-expecting the order, but he wanted her to have to do it on her own. He
waited.
Finally the girl's unwilling hands went to the waistband of her panties,
and started to push them down.
Then he spoke. "Joyce, dear, since this lovely little show is, among
other things, by way of fulfilling my promise to Derek, I think he should have a
fuller view. Face him, please."
Derek had a perfectly good view from where he was standing, and would
never have thought of complaining; but for Collins this was another way of
reveling in his power over her. He could see that she knew it, and for one brief
moment she looked at him with a flash of defiance.
"Bastard," she whispered.
Collins raised the gun.
She looked at him a moment more. Then she bowed her head, and turned to
face Derek.
She took the panties off.
Again there was silence while the two men gazed at the naked girl. Her
body was flawless. The sparse blonde hair at her crotch set off the smooth
sensuality of her flesh.
"Joyce," Collins said finally. "Turn around. All the way around.
Slowly."
The girl's hands clenched into fists, but she obeyed. Her body made a
complete turn, and she ended facing Derek again.
"Well, Derek? What do you think of her?"
Derek's throat worked. "She's--she's--"
"Yes, indeed," Collins said dryly. "I'm glad you enjoyed your little
bonus, Derek. I'm sorry I can't offer her her to you for your further pleasure,
but that is not in my power now. Perhaps when the Council has finished with
her..."
"Yes, sir," Derek said hoarsely. "I understand. Thank you, sir."
The girl turned a deep, fiery red. She whirled on Collins, bringing her
hands up to cover her breasts.
"Now just a minute," she said in a trembling voice. There were still
tears on her cheeks. "I don't know what you think--I--Look, all right, you've
intimidated me into--into taking my clothes off, but... I-I don't want to get
shot, I admit that, but if--if you think you can get me to go along with some
crazy, perverted... No. No! I won't!" She was crying now, and her body began to
shake visibly. "Go ahead!" she sobbed. "Shoot me! Kill me! I won't! I won't!"
Collins watched her calmly. "You will," he said softly. "I promise you."
