The Pleasures of Bankruptcy Read online

  “It matters very much-to me,” he said. “I should dislike exceedingly to find you losing that delicious modesty and your ability to blush so furiously over any physical and sensual overtures made to you. Yet, only a brief time ago you were raving over an affront far more serious than this we are now discussing.”

  “I was not quite sane at the time.” she murmured. “And I don't know that I shall ever be quite sane again. Even though you have ruined me-shamed me in a hundred ways-why should I try to bide my conviction that I shall never be so incredibly happy in the future as I was while you defiled me-and made me unable to hold up my bead again amongst my friends? Now that it is all over and I have served my sentence…”

  “You have barely begun your sentence,” he assured her-watching the long silk stocking being carefully put on and drawn upward over a beautiful leg and whitely rounded thigh.

  “Hardly begun,” she faltered, pausing in her occupation and raising apprehensive eyes. “Do you mean to tell me that all that has happened hasn't satisfied the… the indignation which you and Mrs. Bolton-justly, I admit, felt against me?”

  “You shall not pay a cent,” he said. “You shall carry the thought that you have paid-and arc paying-with your lovely body-and your freedom. You are mine… do you understand? And you will come to me whenever I summon you. You will feel the weight of my authority and my hot desire for your lovely body-even when you are not with me at the time!”

  “In evidence whereof,” he continued, with glowing eyes, “1 lay two commands upon you now. Firstly, you will quite inadvertently let your husband observe this very night that your pussy has been shaved!”

  “Yon will tell him that you did it yourself-and will explain, when questioned; that you had a strange desire to see once more how you must have looked there when you were ten or twelve years old. You will whisper embarrassedly to him a query as to whether you don't remind him of the way Louise used to look at the time when he was so fond of kissing her between her legs?”

  “You will spread yourself out complaisantly to let him look his nil at your nudities. You will see what will happen. He will be so wild with delight that he will not even notice the inflammation still remaining from my own violent embraces…”

  “He will hug your thighs and begin to kiss you down here as he was wont to kiss his daughter. You will repulse him. He will plead-and you will succumb bashfully. And you will tell me-tomorrow afternoon in this room… exactly what occurred!”

  “It's a changed life-a life of horrible phantasies-with which you threaten me,” stammered Doris. “And it's a dual life too-for how can I avoid the peril that my husband or my innocent daughter may not suspect?”

  “It may be best to be somewhat frank with your innocent daughter.” he murmured.

  And cynically he laid upon the table before her the photo of a totally naked and exquisitely formed young girl, Doris stared at it for a moment with wild eyes.

  “It's Louise-all undressed!” she cried. “How-how did you get… this picture?”

  “Not as you perhaps think,” he told the convulsed matron. “Look at the picture. She smiles-although with shy dismay. If she had been trapped thus by any man- or had even had the thought that any man might see the picture, she would never have smiled.”

  “I think that this is, beyond doubt, the loveliest bit of photographic art I have ever seen. A lovely girl is your sweet, blonde Louise-in her slender shapely nudity- with those finger tempting young breasts-and that curly triangle below her smooth belly.”

  “Please… please!” cried Doris chokingly, trying to atop him.

  “Better tell her the source of the picture. Rose,” he suggested.

  “Some of the girls who come here for dresses get a bit jolly,” explained Mrs. Bolton embarrassedly. “It's not very unusual for one of the party to have a camera and wish to snapshot the others while they are trying things on-or in a state of undress before trying on their silk or satin underwear!”

  “And you deliberately brought this picture to Mr. Freeman accused the indignant Doris Tasker.

  Rose shrugged helplessly. “I didn't,” she said. “He-he made me. He does as he likes-you ought to know that- and what could I do?”

  “The fact is, of course,” he said calmly, “that your daughter is almost equally culpable with yourself in the bills you have run up here, and which have served to bring Rose to financial disaster.”

  “She is paying now for the faults and carelessness of others-amongst whom are your daughter and yourself- by this state of what you term… slavery!”

  “But-good heavens-she is little more than a child and it was really my fault that she ran up this account,” cried Doris. “You can't have in mind any personal penalty for her?”

  “I have no compunctions in the matter,” he assured her. “I wish to see your daughter in the exact guise of this photo. And I shall see her this way, too, I can assure you. For if you falter in bringing it about-incredible things will happen to you… without your saving Louise in the long run. I should not hesitate to send a copy of this photograph to her father if that was necessary!”

  “He would kill her-he would disown her!” wailed the frenzied Doris.

  “There are certain things which are quite without any conscience-proverbially so…” he smiled. “You may not have heard of them-but I have one of them when I look at this delightful photograph!”

  With a cynical gesture he indicated to her that his member was once more rampant. The lovely woman colored hotly-but her eyes returned again and again, through lowered lashes, to the marked pertuberance in his leather garments — a swelling that strained the buttons of his trousers and sought release.

  “You will bring her here,” he went on calmly, “on some pretext of a legal settlement of her debt which requires her presence. Once here, I shall talk with her a moment… aside and privately.”

  “She will be led to believe that prison, disgrace, faces you both-and that the only alternative is submission to the person who holds the obligations due to Mrs. Bolton. The photo she might take lightly-as a mere frolic-but she will not take lightly what I have to say to her.”

  “Will you spare her-virginity… at least?” pleaded Doris, her lovely eyes filled with tears, and her slim hands outstretched in a gesture of despair.

  “That much I will pledge,” he said. “Yet for her own audacity in trying to argue with me and limit my decisions, the lovely Mrs. Tasker shall insert her hand within my trousers and fondle the object she will find there… while we continue our chat.”

  “When she emerges from her private conference with me, Louise will still not know what it is she has to do- but she will have been told that whatever it may be, she must do it And it is you who will instruct her in what is required-following directions which I shall give you beforehand.”

  “I… I think…” whispered Doris huskily-for her extreme agitation over her present task rendered her incapable of speech. “I think that-after all… since you do not intend to ruin her-that it is not so shattering a thing for a pretty girl to show her naked body… to a man at least as old as her own father!”

  “And I think,” he smiled, “that you are becoming reasonable and seeking valid excuses for pleasing me by showing me this vision which will delight me. For unless this picture is very deceiving, Louise is a perfect work of art-when naked-and the originator of such a masterpiece should be proud to exhibit it-What is the matter, is something wrong, Doris?”

  “I–I don't know… I feel faint,” she quavered to him. “Yes-I do know too-and so do you… you horrible man! My nerves won't stand it-to do this to yon and just sitting here! Don't laugh… at m-me!”

  “Ohh! Take me-for God's sake… just once morel Can't you see how I am tortured-wanting you… yet I was quite unconscious of such passion-until you made me… touch you again!”

  Chapter X

  Clad in a simple blue frock of fine material and cut, a slight blonde girl of some nineteen years followed Francis Freeman from
a side room into the sitting room of Rose Bolton, the following Saturday afternoon.

  The woman who rose to meet her with obvious anxiety was a ripened edition of this youthful beauty-but the massed hair was of a darker gold, tinged with a ruddy hue. She, too, was somewhat pale and nervous-but she strove to hide her shakiness as she held out her arms to the girl.

  “Nothing to be frightened over, Louise,” she said-and her daughter ran across the room into her embrace.

  “Ohh! Mother!” exclaimed Louise, “this gentleman- Mr. Freeman-says we have transgressed the law in letting Mrs. Bolton's account run up so high. We may be disgraced even-unless we follow his advice and directions.”

  “He is in charge of her affairs now-and he will protect us against possible disclosures to father-and fix it for us to obtain lenient terms, provided we do whatever he has in mind for us. We have gotten into a dreadful mess, he says and probably only he can extricate us.”

  “I know something about it, dear,” soothed Doris very gently. “Mr. Freeman is right, it seems. Our only hope is in submission to his suggestions-even though we suffer in our finer instincts and fail to understand the real necessity of all he will…”

  “That blue gown.” she had said, just prior to his brief interview with Louise, “that gown was one of the last items charged to the girl. A hundred and sixty dollars!”

  His eyes flashed under the impulse of a sudden and daring thought. “And what about the tan silk dress her mother is wearing?” he asked Rose.

  “That was made here, too-and of course never paid for,” replied Rose regretfully. “It wouldn't surprise me, if apart from their hats and shoes and stockings, every single stitch on them came from my atelier.”

  in the girl's lovely little face was an expression of wondering apprehension tinged with an certain relief-for was not this man going to save them from their difficulties if they followed his instructions fully.

  “I think it looks well, too!” she acknowledged. “I'm so light of hair and my coloring is faint, so that this shade seems to set me off beautifully!”

  He nodded approval. “And the workmanship is so very stylish.” he remarked. “May I see the lines-how it hangs — and how it is made? I have some thought that perhaps a blonde niece of mine would be pleased to have one just like it.”

  “Ohh! mother,” she said protestingly. “You don't have to smooth me all over like that. Mr. Freeman can see quite well how the dress hangs-without your rubbing and pulling me everywhere. Why-I feel quite…”

  “I feel just as if I were being massaged,” she concluded. “And you make me-project so-when you do that… every single curve I've got-my bosom and my… my… seat-”

  “Since your curves seem to be ideal,” remarked the man, “you hardly need to worry over that. Is the gown well made in all other respects? Underneath as well as on the outside?”

  “Mother!” half shrieked Louise. “You're uncovering me! You seem to forget that I haven't an underskirt on — just my… my undies!”

  Doris had maintained a certain semblance of maternal composure but she squirmed strangely on her chair as, yielding to his tacit request to be shown the underside of the skirt, she so clumsily contrived to display to him a considerable extent of her daughter's lovely legs as well.

  “Our daughters wear very little underneath their dress these days-even in winter,” she joked to Francis.

  “Could that dress be, by any chance,” he said slowly, “a production of this establishment?”

  Mother and daughter flushed and exchanged a quick glance. They were silent. He turned to Rose-sitting in the background.

  “Yes, that is one of the articles charged, sir,” she said in a low voice.

  “Then we'll regain this property at once,” he remarked sternly. “It is beyond all reason that this young lady should be so wonderfully clad at your expense. I am sorry. Miss Louise, but you will have to surrender that gown at once!”

  “Ohh! But Mr. Freeman!” stammered Louise… as she clutched at her bosom as if threatened by a violent attack on her attire. “I-please… I have so little on underneath-as mother says. And I have nothing to wear home… if I must part with this!”

  “You admit the injustice of your being so expensively clad when it is Mrs. Bolton's pocket which pays the bill?” he inquired coldly.

  “Yes… y-yes!” she faltered. “But I'll work-I'll do anything-I can to pay…except tell father. I'll even go to my cousin Jack Belt and try to borrow the money!”

  “You will not go to Jack,” quavered Doris agitatedly. “How can you think of approaching a man whom I forbade the house-because he thrust his head in at the bathroom door at a time when he knew you were there completely undressed. And he showed himself to you, too, under the pretence that he did not know you were looking-You most certainly cannot see him again!”

  “Mother-ohh! How can y-you give such… intimate details about… m-me-before others?”

  “Did this man, your cousin, see you entirely naked. Louise?” inquired Freeman interestedly.

  “He… he did, yes-the horrid thing!” mourned the girl, flushing scarlet. “I was all undressed and stepping into the tub-and I heard a sound, so I turned around and… there he was-just gaping at m-me! I covered my… my bare-and screamed and mother came running!”

  “I don't know,” observed Francis softly, “that he was so much to blame for wishing to see you unclad. You must be very lovely in that state-and no man could be blamed for contriving to…”

  “Ohh! O-o-o-h!” gasped the confused and abashed girl looking at him with shamed eyes of the clearest, blue. “You could not defend this youth-he's twenty… if you knew more of his behaviour.” interposed Doris, coming to the rescue of her dismayed daughter.

  “He actually had the temerity to display to this child his-male appendages… and in an excited state-an hour or so after this episode in the bathroom. It was then I ordered him from the house, though I had overlooked his previous fault on his plea that he did not know that Louise was in her bath.”

  “But this lovely Louise is not exactly a child… at the age of nineteen,” said Francis mildly.

  “And,” he continued, “Jack may have felt that turn about is fair play-and that since he had seen his lovely cousin in every detail, she was entitled to the same privilege with him.

  “Ohhh… privilege;” exclaimed Doris. “How can you call it that?”

  “In any event.” he said, “we seem to be straying from the business of the moment-which is the immediate delivery of this unpaid for gown to Mrs. Bolton-who will act as my agent in receiving it!”

  “Louise! The dress if you please!” he added, looking at her uncompromisingly.

  Louise gave a low cry of dismay and her mother sighed heavily as she moved uneasily in her chair.

  “It's my prettiest street frock,” mourned the distracted girl, “and I don't know how-I can get home… without it. I have nothing else!”

  “That will be attended to,” he promised.

  “Then I'll just go into the next room-and take it off,” said Louise gloomily. “I could cry over it-I love it so very much…”

  “Here and now-I said!” repeated Francis.

  “But… good heavens-to take it off…. you're asking an indecency of me!” quavered Louise.

  “Unfortunately for you-you are not here to have your feelings considered. You have incurred punishment… and you will receive it!” he told her firmly.

  “Ohhh… mother!” wailed Louise imploringly.

  “I fear, my darling… that you will have to obey him,” faltered Doris. “You see, he-Mr. Freeman-is in the position to enforce his orders.”

  “But… but I have only-one other thing on-besides the dress,” stammered the girl. “How can I undress like that-before a man? Ohh… if you would only go outside sir, and let me turn the dress over to Mrs. Bolton — please, sir!”

  “My patience is at an end,” be announced. “You have ten seconds, Louise, to be outside of that garment.”
r />   He held his watch up before the vividly blushing girl, who merely sighed and trembled and wrung her hands… and then looked desperately at her mother for help.

  “You will be sorry for this rebellion, Louise!” he said quietly, as he returned the watch to his pocket.

  “Ohh… please he gentle-with her-a maiden!” wailed Doris distractedly. “I… I-if you have any decency for me after what has passed…”

  “After what has passed between us. I suppose you want to say,” he said placidly. “Apropos of that-it might be as well to give your daughter some idea of how firmly I can act in case of need. Possibly she may be led to see the real uselessness of resistance-if you offer yourself as a sacrifice for her? Yes… I consent for the moment, to spend on you the indignation she has aroused!”

  With great, woebegone, shamed eyes, the beautiful Doris looked at him imploringly as he motioned curtly towards the couch.

  “You need no telling as to the penitent's attitude and garb,” he said. “Twice already you have raised your skirt and bared your bottom to me, so let there be no delay!”

  The woman moaned as she took two dragging steps toward the sofa. Then she halted.

  “Ohh! If only Louise could go out…” she whispered. “Couldn't Rose just… take her away?”

  The startled Louise looked on in bewilderment-and entire innocence of what this all portended… “I… I would be willing,” came the perturbed voice of Rose Bolton, “to take Miss Louise away for a little while… so that-”

  “Would you indeed?” he grated. “And would you be willing to refrain from interfering with my arrangements and would you be willing to take your place there by Doris's side? I think it might be as well for Louise's lesson to be redoubled-it might impress her more sharply. So — hurry up and get over there this instant!”

  The indiscreet interrupter wailed softly. She crossed the room and sinking to a kneeling position beside Mrs. Tasker she bowed her head in shame. The petrified girl. Louise, feeling herself to be in a perfect nightmare, looked at both these well bred women lifting their skirts high up over the twin mounds of their naked bottoms.