EXTRACT FOR
Lisa, Her Education
(Charles Arnold)

Chapter One

Leavy



     Lisa is, or until recently, was my wife.  We loved each other dearly.  In an earlier account, I described how she was blackmailed into submitting for thirty days to the will of an ex-cop named Frank Racine.  When her month of service was over, she elected to stay with him.  In fact, she begged him to keep her as his woman.  She promised to do whatever he demanded.  Of course, I was devastated, for awhile I was suicidal.  But then I convinced myself that her willing submission to Frank was just some sort of crazy quirk in her psychological make up that she had to work out.  I lived with the hope that she would soon come home.  But that hope began to die when I learned that Frank had loaned her to his friend, a repulsive old degenerate named Silk.  During her thirty day period with Frank, she was subjected to all kinds of physical and emotional abuses which she gradually accepted.  However, she was never able to rid herself of her fear of Silk.  It became clear that he despised her as much as she hated him.  If Frank had 'loaned' her to Silk it meant that, for the time being, she was Silk's woman.  I couldn't imagine a worse situation nor, I think, could she.

      I was to see my wife, Lisa, only twice more. Our next to last meeting occurred about six weeks after her month of service to Frank. I met my wife, Lisa, at Silk's place in mid-April.  Several weeks later, I saw her for the final time. 

     A few days after I left her kneeling between Frank's legs, her sister phoned to say that Lisa's son, Richie, was happy living in Cooperstown and wanted to stay.  She told me that Lisa had been in touch with her and had been grateful when she and her husband had offered to keep Richie.  I was shocked to learn that Lisa was in the process of signing papers so that they might adopt him.  I knew how Lisa felt about her son so I'd been certain that her love for Richie would, in time, bring her to her senses.  

     In spite of the fact that she had given up her son, I continued to hold on to the remote possibility that she would free herself from Frank and return to me.  She was still my wife.  Neither of us had started divorce proceedings.  As long as that legal tie held us together, I felt there existed the possibility that she would come back.  I also took some comfort in Frank's admission that he soon tired of a woman.  Perhaps whenever she no longer interested him, Frank would simply send her packing.  

     I never went to the clubhouse at the apartment complex because I might run into Frank there.  I avoided walking or driving by his apartment.  During those first weeks I came to realize just how much I loved my dear wife.  

     Frank had blackmailed her into becoming his temporary mistress by threatening to harm her son.  That's how her servitude began. But now, to me it didn't matter what she had done.  Her decision to stay with Frank didn't matter.  I would have gladly forgiven her anything.  

     On the evening of April 10th Frank phoned.  When I heard his voice, I almost cried out in joy thinking he was about to tell me to come and get her.  He made small talk about the weather, and mentioned that he was planning on moving out of the complex and into a bigger more expensive place.  Finally, I interrupted him,  "What about Lisa?"  I asked, trying to keep my voice from shaking.  

     He chuckled,  "Ah, yes, little Lisa...maybe you'd like to see her?"  It was a question.

     "Yes, of course," I said.  "Please, Frank, tell me she's coming home!"

     "Well, that depends.  She could have come home weeks ago on that night when I told you both to leave.  She could have come home any time since then.  I got no strings on her, Billy.  But you know how it is."  There was a pause.  "She can come back to you right now.  She can come back any time she wishes to."

     "I don't believe..." I began.

     "Believe what you want, Billy," he cut me off.  "She's been over at Silk's this past week."

     "Silk!" I shouted.  "She can't stand for that dirty bastard to touch her.  She hates him.  She can't be with Silk!"

     "Well, Billy, you go on over there and check for yourself," Frank laughed.  "Me and Silk thought you might like to pay them a visit.  You know, just to see that she's healthy and happy."

     "Damn you, she couldn't be with Silk," I repeated.  "She despises him."

     Frank laughed again,  "Billy she may be your wife, but right now she's Silk's woman.  You want to see her or not?"

     I should have hung up.  I should have gone out and bought a gun and shot the son-of-a-bitch.  Instead, I said,  "Yes, I want to see her."

     "Okay, but there's a couple of conditions.  Same as before, you know.  Like you don't do nothin or say nothin unless Silk tells you to do somethin or say somethin.  Got it?"

     "Yes, I understand."

     "And when Silk tells you to go home, you just pick up your coat and go.  Right?"

     "Yes."

     "Remember how I had Lisa carry that little tape recorder and record all the stuff she done with me and them others?"

     "I remember."

     "Well, we moved ourselves into the world of high tech.  We been making videos of your good lookin bride doin all the things she does best."

     "Goddamn you!"

     "Yeah, well, it turns out there's a big market.   She looks so sweet, you know.  Young and innocent.  Not like them porn stars, but real soft and a little afraid.  She's like the virgin girl next door, the one that still goes to church and ain't never said 'fuck'.  Guys go for that.  The best part is that Lisa don't have to act.  Even though a lot has happened to her recently, she's still kind of innocent and still afraid especially of Silk."  There was a pause.  When I didn't say anything, he continued.  "You know, Billy, she's never got over her problem of talkin dirty.  I think the religious stuff she learned growin up is always going to be with her.  I think it's deep and permanent.  She still blushes when she has to say 'fuck'.  You can see it on the tapes.  It's kind of nice."

     "What do you do with them, with the tapes?"

     "We been selling short tapes, forty minutes...sixty minutes, but only to special collectors, private rich guys mostly from other countries.  They go for $1,000 a tape and the price is goin up.  Big bucks, Billy, big bucks.  We even got one of them millionaire oil guys from Kuwait who's interested...interested enough to make a trip over here."

     "And Lisa...she...she goes along with this?"

     "Hey, baby, that's the best part.  We don't even have to pay her.  Her only reward is to get fucked by me...fucked by old Frank."

     There was a long pause before I could speak.  "What's the real reason you called me?"

     "I'm glad you asked.  Recently we got a special request from the oil prince I mentioned.  Him and his sons want a tape of Lisa doin her thing while her husband watches.  Ah, Billy, there's more kinky degenerates in the world than you can imagine."

     "So, I'm to be on the tape?"

     "Yeah, that's the idea.  We could have hired some guy, but we wanted to be up front and honest.  You know, be able to tell the buyer that it's actually Lisa's husband sittin there while Silk...well, you know.  Besides, we figured you'd work for free, just like Lisa does."

     "And Lisa...she agreed to this?"

     "Let me put it this way, Billy.  At first she hesitated, but she was gently persuaded that it would be in her best interest to go along.  I like to think it's a process.  Lisa's learning who she is."

     "At Silk's, will there be people with cameras?"

     "No.  I'm telling you, Billy boy, we are fully automated.  I got cameras placed all around my apartment here.  Last week we installed state-of-the-art stuff in most of the rooms in Silk's dump.  It all works on remote and covers every angle.  Shit, our electronic gear is worth more than the whole fuckin building Silk lives in."  Frank waited for me to respond.

     "Yes," I said.

     "Yes, what?"

     "I want to see her."

     "You come alone.  You don't do nothin.  You don't say nothin."

     "Yes."

     "Cause, Billy, I got a monitor here in my place.  I'm gonna be watching.  Dooley's gonna be right downstairs in the deli. Silk can press a button and signal him from the apartment."

     "I understand."

     "If Dooley has to come up there, well you seen how he is with a razor.  It won't be good for you, and it won't be good for Lisa either."

     "What night?" I asked.

     "Saturday.  Just ring the bell.  Lisa's got her instructions.  She knows what she's supposed to do and say.  You do what she tells you to do until Silk gets there.  He sometimes improvises things, but Lisa's gettin used to it.  Remember, the cameras are on, so no funny stuff."

     "I know.  I've been in that situation before."

     "Yeah, well this ain't gonna be quite the same.  You know where Silk lives?"

     "Yes, but Jesus Frank how could you have given her to Silk?  He's...he's..."

     Frank cut me off,  "He's an ugly, mean, filthy little old bastard and he is convinced that your pretty little Lisa feels superior to him, which, of course, is right.  Shit, Billy, a beautiful young woman like your wife wouldn't ever lower herself to speak to a fuckin degenerate like Silk.  He knows that and it pisses him off.  I think she's been havin a hard time of it over there."

     "Then why did you send her to him?"

     "Like I told you, I get tired of a woman pretty quick.  Silk wanted her.  Besides, the tapes that are comin back from Silk's are hot.  They're makin us a bundle and more to come."

     "I want to go to her," I said.

     "Okay, seven o'clock Saturday night.  See you in the movies!"  Frank laughed and hung up.

     After we'd enjoyed a few warm days in March, now, in April, it seemed as if winter had returned and intended to stay.  I drove to Silk's place through slanting sheets of cold rain.  The deli under his apartment was open.  A red neon sign above the plate glass window was flickering.  When I got out of the car, I noticed Dooley standing by the window.  He watched me and nodded as I opened the street door to Silk's apartment.  

     The thought of seeing Lisa again made my heart pound and my mouth go dry.  Inside the dirty vestibule was a line of mailboxes and another door.  I pressed the bell under the box that read 'Silk' and heard a metallic click.  I pushed open the door.  The stairs to Silk's second floor landing were littered with paper and empty beer cans.  Spray painted in three foot letters on one of the walls was, 'Fuck everybody!'  I waited a moment in front of Silk's door, then I knocked.  

     "It's open."  The small childlike voice was Lisa's. 

     I turned the knob and went in, closing the door behind me.  I faced a long hallway.  At the end of it, I could see the kitchen.  Along the right wall were two doors.  About ten feet ahead in the left wall was an arched opening. I noticed two television cameras mounted on the ceiling at each end of the hall.  There were wires running from them to all of the other rooms except one.  

     "Hang your coat up," Lisa's voice came from the arched opening.  I draped my wet coat over a hook on the rack behind the door.  "In here," Lisa called.

     I stood in the doorway but didn't really notice the room.  I saw only Lisa.  She was bathed in amber light shining from above and in front of her.  The neon from the deli sign intermittently lit up the tall windows in the far wall, casting a pulsating red glow on either side of her.  She sat on a high stool in the space between the windows.  Just as Frank had instructed, her hands were clasped behind her head, her knees spread wide apart.  She wore a shear red blouse.  Her small breasts were thrust forward.  Under the blouse there seemed to be something attached to her nipples, something metallic.  She had on a pleated short red skirt.  Her shaved pussy was in full view, open and wet.  Around her neck was a leather collar.  On her feet were black leather pumps with heels so high I didn't think she would be able to stand in them.  They were the kind of special-order shoes advertised in fetish magazines.  The stiletto heels were hooked over the middle rung of the stool.   

     Her hair had been cut short, straight in the back with bangs across her forehead.  It was a rich black and framed her face beautifully.  Her lips were bright red, their natural fullness slightly exaggerated.  They glistened in the light.  Over her eyes was tied a heavy black cloth blindfold.  A plain kitchen chair had been placed about six feet in front of her. I noticed several video cameras secured to brackets in the ceiling and on the walls.  They were silent, but I saw that the tiny red lights were on which meant the cameras were operating. Whatever she said and did would be recorded.  The tapes would be edited and sold privately to wealthy men, no doubt as perverted as Frank and Silk.