She sighed as she led Doris Tasker away. Such a pretty woman… perhaps too pretty, she reflected. The door closed behind them… and Francis Freeman took a chair in comfort… and waited with such patience as he could muster.
There was quite a wait. Le heard exclamations… words of stifled horror quickly muted. But, aware that both these women were in a position forbidding anything save acquiescence to destiny, he gave them a little more time.
He knew that behind that wall… the lovely Doris Tasker was probably weeping… but he knew too, that she was obeying. There was again that softly grating sound. The panel had opened once more. A marvelously shod and slender feminine foot appeared in the opening.
It hovered there… reluctant to put itself forward. And then it slowly projected itself through the aperture that framed it. With the slender foot and shapely ankle, there now appeared a calf so exquisite in its voluptuous curves and glimmering whiteness through frail black silk stockings that Francis Freeman's grey eyes lit with delight.
This marvelous leg was one which he had seen before… but only in part… and it seemed to him, in its abashed display in this queer manner, to be far lovelier than he had realized. The dimpled knee appeared… then the whitely delicate skin above the stocking and the lower part of a delicious thigh.
Hanging laces were revealed now… and then an expanse of translucent, frail muslin so very fine that the skin beneath colored it a softly rosy white. The entire limb showed now… deliciously enticing too… in this utter display to his eyes. He resisted with difficulty the temptation to advance to the partition and toy with this so lovely leg in its state of semi-nudity.
“Drawers…?” he queried gruffly. “Well… I have no great objection… for the moment! The other leg… please…!”
The superb limb was withdrawn with many rustlings… and its mate appeared, heralded by a dainty foot. This foot advanced, wavering as if in search of a firm footing… and it brought with it the lovely leg… which he scanned with delight.
“Go on…” he said… almost breathlessly. He was noting how the full upper thigh congested the opening in the wall. Yet there was still room for something of buxom rear curves and also a portion of the inner thigh… both covered with sheer muslin.
At his signal of 'go on' the leg disappeared very slowly. Then it reappeared very gradually once more. But this time the stocking was rolled down from the slender, shapely leg and the lovely knee, with dimples as decorations, was also bare.
And as the leg advanced towards him, it became apparent that the drawers too had been drawn back as far as was possible. There was something disclosed which was far more enticing to his growing admiration than the fair owner of the leg would have wished, if she had known, in the almost nude presentation of its charms.
To be shown piecemeal in this manner was… as he had known it would do… driving Doris Tasker into indescribable shame and confusion. He could hear through the opening every little while her soft gasps of protest and then the whisperings of her grief and misery.
Upon his next signal the other leg was presented to him in similar guise. He noted the crumpled material of the drawers on the lower curves of the buttock and in what little he could see of the crotch. And as he murmured an order unexpected at this point by the listening Rose, he admired the incredible firmness and delicacy of the skin of that naked thigh… with a fineness so clear that the tiny blue veins were perceptible in its faintly pink and snowy surface.
“The drawers should be removed now…” he said in a low voice… but one clearly audible to the strained and listening ears behind the partition. He heard a panting gasp as the leg disappeared. There was further rustling… and a dry sob…
“And I think the shoe and stocking also…” he added. “The other leg may be left clad as yet…”
The delay this time was brief. A naked foot, slim and lovely, made its appearance in the aperture. All the beauties of the delicately nude limb followed in its wake…
As if aware that something of her corresponding buttock must appear in the opening… and that there was also a peril of more intimate disclosures in case of movement… the panting owner of the exposed leg sought to maintain it motionless… and she even revealed more of the taut buttock than might otherwise have been necessary… because of her anxiety to expose nothing of her crotch.
“Move the leg and foot… as if searching for some-of soft hair whose strands were of an even ruddier gold thing with the toes…” he directed quietly.
The hesitation of the bewildered and dominant woman was brief. The exquisite thigh which nearly… but not quite… blocked the opening, moved here and there lightly, as it followed the waverings of the lower log… moving delicately to and fro in its searching… disclosures.
Francis edged his chair a trifle nearer. His eyes gleamed, for now he had glimpses of a silken moss… of tendrils than those of Doris Tasker's long and heavy tresses. He saw, too, from time to time, the delicate pinkness of the soft, intimate cleft in the perforce expanded crotch.
The man inhaled and exhaled deeply. “Go on…” he said.
He had another wait… and then there appeared in the tiny arena of this peculiar theatre a white dome crowned at its very summit by a stiffly erect nipple of coral… a crest set in the tender and faintly rosy circle of the aureole of this gloriously beautiful and firm breasts.
Presently the mate of this lovely hillock was presented for his inspection. And then both of them together… though they were somewhat crushed towards each other by the narrow opening in which they were displayed.
And next the perfect jewel of the navel… a dimpled gem set in the white expanse of a lovely naked belly… was pressed against the opening in the wall. He made no audible comment on what he saw… save that his low clear voice signaled every few minutes when he desired the programme altered.
Doris Tasker possessed fashionably slender lines… the lines almost, of a girl. Yet the naked buttock which she now presented with such bitter shame, nearly filled the opening in the partition.
He relished intensely the individual display of each of the rear mounds… and then smiled as an effort… doomed to failure from the start… was made to display to him the entire backside at one time. The whole bottom simply could not be wedged into the opening… but he reveled in the view of this swelling flesh… parted vertically by a line which was made snug and tight by the pressure of the flesh from either side.
“Go on…” he said again, huskily.
And now there arose from the farther side of the thin partition a sound of confused, low clamorings.
“I won't… I simply won't… show him… that,” he heard. “Ohhh… how can you… another woman… help in such… such unspeakable things…?”
Then there was another frantic voice in reply, as Rose interrupted her complaint.
“There's only this one final exposure… and if you think I'm going to risk a whipping and… other things… simply because you're ashamed…! I shall have to call him… now, unless you submit! He will hang me up by the legs maybe… all naked…. because I haven't been able… to compel you… and as for you… just see what will happen…!”
“Oh God… can't he be satisfied… with the humiliation… I've undergone already… I tell you… I won't…!”
“Mr. Freeman…!” called Rose tremulously.
“Don't… ohh… for God's sake… don't call him!” came the wailing whisper. “He's terrible… there's no stopping him! You can't tell… what he will do… or ask for… next! Please… Just an instant… give me time to…!”
Freeman smiled grimly in his solitude… taking no notice of the squabble for which he was responsible. Cynically, he appraised in the trembling voice of his newest captive not only the shame and horror which assailed her and the fear which she had so soon acquired of him, but also the panting excitement which had gradually flooded all her being as she exposed, little by little, all her bared charms.