CHAPTER ONE
“Wakey, wakey!”
Tami heard the voice as if from a long way off. Is it morning already? Her mouth tasted
foul. She tried to brush her hand across it.
And discovered she couldn’t move.
Shit. Fear jolted her awake. She tried to move her arms, her legs...
Nothing happened.
They got me. She forced her eyes to open—and found herself staring at a closely-cropped
piece of maroon carpet that was less than an inch from her nose. Looks like I’m in a
car...
Pain ran through her as a large hand slapped her across the ass cheeks.
“I said it was time to wake up!”
She mewled with the sudden pain—a muffled sound that barely emerged from the gag that
she now found filled her mouth.
“Let me give you a little help.”
More pain as the same big hand grabbed a handful of her hair and pulled, lifting her
face out of the car trunk. Her eyes watered as she fought to gain her balance, to somehow
stop the pain.
The hand let go and she oomphed as she fell to the ground. She saw a large pair of shoes
planted a few inches from her face.
“I’m going to lift you to your knees.” The voice said. “Don’t let yourself fall.”
Again pain as her hair was grabbed once again—she felt herself lifted off the ground,
saw flashes of light as the world spun around her—then there was the bite of gravel under
her knees. The hand let go of her hair. She started to overbalance, almost fell—the hand
returned, grabbed her breast and used it to push her upright.
“Spread your knees...”
Tami panted into her gag and forced her knees apart; the hand gave her breast a squeeze,
then let her go.
“Good.”
Tami took inventory. She couldn’t feel her hands or feet—clearly they were bound in some
way. A quick series of movements told her that her arms were pulled painfully far behind
her. Elbows are probably tied together—ankles too. There was something big and hard in her
mouth, making it hard for her to breathe. In short, I’m bound and gagged—just like we
planned!
The assignment was one she had fought hard to get. Reports indicated that young women
were disappearing all over the world. They weren’t being kidnapped for ransom—no demands
for their return had ever been made. They had just been...taken.
The Briggs Detective Agency had gotten involved when Charles Meachum lost his only
daughter in the same way. The police had gotten nowhere—so Meachum, who had money to
spare, came to Briggs as a last resort.
“She was only supposed to go away for a long weekend.” Meachum was a small man, with
thinning hair and anxious eyes. “She called as soon as she got to the Lodge—just like she
promised. She stated to me that she and Mariann...” Meachum looked at Briggs. “Mariann
Wilson is her best friend. A couple of years older than Corey, but a nice girl from a good
family... “
“And she was taken as well?” Briggs knew the answer, but it was always best to get the
information direct from the source.
“Yes.” Meachum brushed a bit of stray hair from his forehead. “In fact, I think she was
taken first—at least, Corey said she could see...” Meachum’s face went gray as he brought
a hand up to his eyes. “She was talking to me when it happened, you see.” The small man
looked Briggs in the face. “We were both surprised when the men broke into the lodge. I
could hear Mariann’s scream over the line-- then Corey...”
“Did you hear anything that might give us a lead?” Briggs had told Tami to keep quiet,
but she wanted to be sure there was nothing here that might prove useful.
“I don’t think so...” Meachum shook his head in a violent motion. “No, there was
nothing. The men never said a word. Nothing at all...” His face went greyer still.
“Nothing except that one scream from Corey.”
Briggs gave her a look that told her she would get a talking to later—then turned to
Meachum. “I don’t know if we’ll be able to help.” He glanced at Tami again. “But we’ll
give it our best try.”
That best try led to Tami kneeling on a gravel driveway in the middle of nowhere. It
hadn’t taken long to convince Briggs that the only way to find the missing girls was to
get someone inside—the old man had plenty of money, and it was worth a try. She pointed
out that no one else in the agency fit the kidnapper’s MO; Tami had to be the girl for the
job.
Briggs hadn’t been happy—but her arguments and all that money had brought him to see the
light. Now, if he’s on the ball, we might be able to crack this thing.
Tami was brought back to the present by a hand slapping her breast. A whuff of pain
escaped her.
“Don’t go back to sleep on me, slave.”
Tami’s eyes widened at the word. She raised her head to get a look at the man who had
used it. He was tall—something over six feet two inches, with short dark hair and a goatee
that made him look satanic — which I’m sure is his intent. He had some kind of short
leather-wrapped stick which he held casually across his body — that looks nasty! He smiled
as she looked him over—then slapped her, hard, across the face.
“Slaves do not make eye contact with their masters.” Another slap, this time across her
untouched breast. “Remember that—and think of it as your first lesson.”
Tami dropped her eyes after a quick look around. There was a low-lying house in front of
her—nothing else in sight. Another slap across the breast reminded her that she was
helpless. For the moment. When Briggs follows the signal...
“Oh, by the way.” The hand touched her ass—finger pressing down on a suddenly sore spot.
“If you’re thinking that your boss will follow the tracker he implanted in your butt...”
The man laughed. “Think again. I cut that out as soon as I secured you.”
For the first time, a twinge of fear flickered across Tami’s mind. She fought it down.
No good panicking now. Besides, I still have...
“And as for these oh-so-decorative earrings,” The hand held a pair of bell-shaped bits
of silver in front of her eyes. “I deactivated them too.” He dangled them in front of her
bare breasts. “Might give them back once we pierce you—they’ll make nice nipple
ornaments.”
Briggs will find me. Tami kept repeating the words to herself. He has to find me. He has
to!
“Now, Ms. Private Detective,” the hand grabbed her hair once again. “I’m going to take
you to the people you’re looking for.” He pulled her head up hard enough to bring tears to
her eyes. “See that door up ahead?” Tami tried to nod, couldn’t, whuffed into her gag.
“You’re going to get to that door—on your own. I’ll give you five minutes—after that,
there will be penalties…”
Tami’s eyes widened as he released her. How can I get over there? She flexed her
fingers—I can’t move my hands. My feet? Immovable. He’s got me hogtied! There’s no way…
There was a thwack as the leather stick in his hand smacked across her breasts. “Tick
tock!”
Tami tried to squirm forward—and promptly fell onto her chest. Okay—now what! She
started to crawl, felt the gravel cut into her already tender breasts. But I’m
moving!—albeit slowly. Another thwack, this one on the upraised sole of her right foot.
“Ninety seconds gone.”
Tami began to sob into her gag—but kept moving—pushing forward with all the strength she
had left. Gravel cut into her breasts, caught in the tender flesh beneath her pubic hair.
She tried to ignore it all, tried to keep herself moving. Every now and then, the man’s
leather stick struck her somewhere on her helpless body. Her feet, her ass, across her
back—it seemed that he could strike anywhere he wanted. The world began to spin around
Tami but she continued to inch forward, slowly moving toward the door that was so far
away…
“See?”
It was a moment before the word registered on Tami’s pain-soaked brain.
“I knew you could do it.” A big hand dug into her hair once again. “And it only took you
seven and a half minutes!” She moaned at the new pain as he pulled her up onto her knees.
“That means you only get twenty-five.”
Tami’s mind swam—twenty-five? The front of her body burned from the scratches the gravel
had left; her brain was nearly overloaded by the intensity of the effort she had just
made. Twenty-five what?
“Every girl starts her training with a good whipping.” He knocked on the door. “You’ll
get twenty-five strokes.” The door swung open. “A nice solid number.”
Tami saw two sets of shoes in front of her. How many of them are there?
“Take her inside.” The man’s hand gave her a pat on the ass. “Set her up in room number
one—you know the routine—I’ll be there in a few minutes.”
Tami felt rough hands lift her off her knees. One of the men threw her over his
shoulder. At least I don’t have to crawl. She was taken inside the door—which closed with
a solid thump behind her.
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