Chapter One

 

She looked up at the light that was streaming through the window above her and squinted against the glare, causing tears to roll down her cheeks. The light glinted off the handcuffs around her wrists and where the small chain between them was looped around one of the bars at the window. She wanted to lift herself up, to look out of that window and catch a glimpse of an elusive freedom. She imagined slipping through that window and escaping into a clear blue sky beyond. Closing her eyes, she drifted in the fantasy, seeking the briefest respite and allowing the tiniest of smiles to crease her lips. The man behind her grunted and pushed into her harder. Her dream of blue skies was shredded by the feel of his hot spunk filling her. He pushed her hard against the cold wall of the cell, squashing her breasts against the crumbling paint. His hand wrapped in her hair and he yanked her head back, his breath smelt of cigarettes as he snarled, 'Welcome to B wing.' He let go of her hair and jumped down from the box, leaving her hanging a foot above the floor. His fingers trailed over her welt-smothered buttocks before he turned towards the cell door. It was opened for him as he drew near and he smiled at the female prison guard. 'She's not bad, that one. Young but strong. They work her hard on the other wing?'

'Three months with Officer Jacks, what do you think?'

He glanced over his shoulder at the young woman hanging from the window, 'I think that she's gonna wish that she could get back to him after a couple of days with you, Parker. How much longer has she got to go?'

'Another three months,' the woman replied.

'Only a six month sentence? Unusual for you to want someone that short.'

Parker shrugged, 'I saw her with a couple of the guys when she came in and took an instant interest. Fucking Jacks played about though, made me fight to have her transferred.'

The man nodded, 'We knew you'd get her though.'

'Yeah,' Parker laughed and looked into the cell, 'you just gotta have Faith.'

 

She looked up at the light again and the cell slowly dissolved, taking her with it before recreating and re-emerging as another remembered scene ... a woman hanging off the floor, in the centre of a room surrounded by bright lights. She raised the whip, felt the power for a moment and then unleashed that power across the back of the naked woman. The woman screamed and begged for her to stop. Faith leant close to the woman and whispered in her ear, 'What's the matter, Parker, losing your Faith?'

'Please, I'm sorry ... what I did ... I'm sorry.'

The woman's words angered her with their uselessness - they were just words, just air formed into sounds.

'Not good enough,' she responded as she straightened and raised the whip again. The whip stopped on its downward arc and she turned with a frown. A figure stepped into the light and everything else faded into shadows around her. She smiled at the approaching figure but the dark-haired woman didn't smile back.

'I thought you didn't live in the past,' Claudia announced.

 

Faith's eyes snapped open as she jolted awake. She whispered her name but it sounded hollow in the darkness, there was no weight to it ... just air formed into sounds. She shook her head and thought of Claudia. She had got her back for the shortest of time, a taste to remind her of what she had been missing, to awaken her senses. It had left her wanting more. She wanted to cry from the sheer desperation of it all but now, more than ever, she could not afford the luxury of tears. She needed Claudia. For so long she had wanted her - but now she knew, beyond any shadow of a doubt, that she needed her. She stared into the darkness that surrounded her and saw there a future without her. If her people didn't reach Claudia in time, if she didn't come, then the darkness was her future and someone was going to suffer.

 

Chapter Two

 

She studied the hanging slave with cold, appraising eyes. The slave studied her with wide, fearful eyes. The slave's face was streaked with tears, her chin soaking from where the ball gag had leaked her drool. Her skin glowed from the attentions of the stranded leather whip that currently rested on Faith's shoulder as she slowly circled the slave. The slave did her best to watch the Mistress, watching and waiting for the next blow from the terrible whip. It came as expected, slicing across her breasts, stinging her nipples and making her toss her head as her agonised breasts rippled beneath the blow. Faith continued to circle her, going round twice more before she delivered the next blow, slicing the whip across the front of her thighs. The slave hadn't stopped gasping against the gag before the whip found her buttocks and then, a moment later, her breasts again. Faith circled her countless times before delivering the whip across the slave's lower back that was tense with fearful anticipation. Faith's slow circling of the slave continued for another thirty minutes, bringing the session to a full hour. By the finish the slave was sobbing uncontrollably, her body shuddering with pain and the tension of expectation, not knowing when the next blow would come. She visibly jumped when Faith stood in front of her and spoke for the first time since she had started with the whip, 'I told you that I wanted you to talk to me. Now is your chance.' She slipped the handle of the whip between the slave's legs, 'Hold that.' The slave gripped her shaking legs together, desperate to hold onto the whip. Faith reached up and yanked the ball free of the slave's mouth, leaving it resting against her chin.

'Mistress,' the slave croaked, 'I'll tell you anything, I swear. I -'

Faith retrieved the whip from between the slave's legs and rested the strands across her breasts, 'Be quiet,' she said softly, staring at the glowing, welt-covered mounds. She studied the tortured breasts in silence, her dark eyes drinking in every painful detail, every pin-prick of blood that appeared beneath the surface. Eventually she said, 'You were the slave of the Third Mistress for a time, correct?'

'Yes, Mistress, at the Slave House ... my number was eleven ...I served my Mistress well -'

Faith lifted her finger and pressed it against the slave's lips, silencing her. 'Be quiet or I shall gag you once more and start this all over again.' Faith spoke quietly but there was a dark power beneath the softness of her voice, 'I wish to know the identity of the Third Mistress.'

'I cannot tell you, Mistress, I never heard anyone speak her name. She was called The Third, that is all I know.'

'Then tell me who spent time with this Mistress.'

The slave's eyes widened, 'Mistress, I cannot, it is against the rules of the house to discuss such things.'

Faith tipped her head slightly to the side and studied the terrified slave. Slowly she lifted the ball and pushed it back between the slave's lips before she said, 'We're not in the Slave House, this is my house and I only have one rule .,' she slowly started to circle the slave again, '... and that is to do whatever it takes to get what I want,'

 

Just over an hour later, Faith turned her back on the hanging, sobbing slave and headed for the door. Pulling it open she beckoned a middle aged man who came quickly to her, bowing his head respectfully, 'Mistress?' he queried.

'Get her down and have her fucked until she can take no more. Then send her back to the Slave House ... with my compliments.'

'Yes, Mistress,' he replied and quickly turned to go and find some men to help with the task. Once he had gone, Faith moved towards another room further down the corridor, slipping a key from her pocket. It was the only key to the room and she always carried it. She turned the key in the lock and opened the door. The room beyond was pitch black with no light entering. She stepped inside and closed the door behind her, shutting out the little light that the open door had cast in. She stood for a moment in the darkness, listening to her own breathing and the breathing of the room's only other occupant. She slowly reached her hand to the side and found the light switch, with practised ease she flicked it on. The blonde slave hung within a frame fixed in the centre of the room, thick bands around her wrists and ankles kept her in a taut x-shape. Her eyes were screwed shut against the sudden glare but as she slowly opened them, Faith was pleased to see the look of lust-filled hunger. The slave's body was quivering uncontrollably, sending the weighted chains attached to her nipples swinging softly from side to side. Faith's eyes slowly travelled down the lean, sweat glistening body to the machine between the slave's spread legs. She watched the shining pistons moving back and forth, alternately pushing thick dildos into the slave's arse and cunt. A length of chain ran down from the slave's clitoris to the base of the first piston, slacking as the dildo pushed into her and then pulling taut again as it was pulled free. The black dildo fucking her cunt was smothered in juice but Faith knew the slave well enough to know that she hadn't climaxed and the juice was merely the result of the hours spent under the onslaught of the machine. Faith continued to watch, waiting. The slave noticed and closed her eyes, sensing what was to come next. It was a few more minutes before a jet of freezing water suddenly exploded from the machine, jetting up to soak the slave's most sensitive areas and making her whole body shudder. Faith stared into the slave's eyes, the lust there had cooled slightly but not by much. 'I am willing to call a halt to your punishment,' Faith announced, making the slave stare at her with undisguised longing, 'not because you have suffered enough, but because I feel that I will be in need of your talents, if those talents remain.' Faith knew that the slave wanted to say something but was pleased that she held her tongue. 'Let us see if you are still of use to me.' She stepped forward. 'Of all your punishments, I feel that this is my favourite,' she said casually as she slowly turned the dial at the front of the machine, increasing the speed and power of the pistons. Tension seared along the slave's arms and legs, her muscles quivering as her lips pulled back in a grimace. Faith continued to turn the dial until it was at its highest setting and the pistons were almost a blur as they punched into her cunt and anus. Faith watched the gasping slave for a few moments, enjoying the sight of the almost unbearable pleasure then she slowly walked over to stand behind her. She reached her hand round to slide her fingers between the swollen labial lips, gently stroking the hardening and engorged clitoris held within the clamp that shook as the pistons did their work.

'You may come now, Max,' Faith announced and yanked the clamp free. The slave threw her head back, but no sound escaped her as she urinated in a high arc across the room. She fell limp within the frame as Faith moved back to the machine and turned it off. She then pulled the dildo from her arse and then from her cunt, tutting as Max's come smothered her hand. She raised her hand to the slave's lips and Max obediently cleaned every last drop from the smooth skin.

 

Later, after Max had pleasured Faith within the confines of her own bedroom, she lay beside the slave and smoked a cigarette. 'I have missed your attentions.' Max looked up from the floor, her face glowing with pride. 'But your punishment was worthy. You should just be thankful that you are worth so much to me or I would have sold you to an Algerian slave master by now.' Faith's tone became angry and Max cowered slightly, 'You have no idea what your betrayal has done.'

Max frowned, wanting to ask more but knowing her place and trusting that her Mistress would tell her what she needed to know.

'Let's just say that if things don't go well, you may wish yourself back in your cell, hidden in the darkness - rather than consumed by it.'

'Mistress?' Max said softly, fearful of the reprisal for daring to speak but having to say something to prompt her Mistress to explain further.

Faith stared at her, a strange look in her eyes. 'Betrayal is a cancer, Max. The betrayal itself may be small but the events that lead on from it spiral out of control so easily.' She blinked and her eyes were the hard, cold stare that was usually there. 'Now, go and get the punishment whip and I shall remind you not to speak without permission.'

Interlude

 

November 1995

 

Her hands were held within cuffs and pushed forward over the low bed, her fingers pressing against the wall. She buried her face in the rough blanket to stifle her cries as one of the guards lashed her buttocks with his belt. The harsh retort of the leather slapping her arse was a familiar sound in the narrow cell and the sound of his grunting a few moments later was as familiar and so was the weight of his body on top of her as he rammed his cock into her from behind. The blanket beneath her was soaked with tears - she had been lying over the bed for over an hour and there was no end in sight to her torment. She felt the guard behind her stiffen as his cock reached full penetration and then he growled as he shot his seed into her. He slapped her arse as he stood up and wiped his cock on the blanket beside her. She turned her head slightly towards the open cell door and groaned to herself as she watched another guard enter. He saw her looking and smiled nastily. 'You want to watch do you?' he asked viciously and grabbed hold of her thigh, flipping her over and forcing her knees up to her chest.

'Hold them there,' he ordered and leant back to undo the fastening on his trousers. She kept her head to the side but looked up at him when he ordered her to do so. His eyes stared into hers as he slammed his thick cock into her bruised pussy. She winced but that wasn't enough for him and he reached down to pinch her sensitive flesh, twisting her clitoris between thumb and forefinger and making her writhe beneath him. She could feel a cry burning her throat and when it eventually escaped it drove him on, forcing himself deeper and making her cry out again. His hands found her breasts and he clawed at the naked flesh, digging his nails in and making her sob. She hated the sound, hated the way that they could do this to her and no one cared. But it didn't matter - soon they would be a distant memory ... all of this would be a distant memory. Now, as so often before, she found herself thinking about how she had ended up here ... even now she could still hear Lisa screaming. A hazard of the job, that was what they all called it. But Faith wasn't one of them and Lisa was more special to her than anyone had ever been before. When she had opened the door all she saw at first was the rutting man. But then she saw his hands around Lisa's throat and the screams had stopped coming from her bloodied lips. Faith didn't remember picking up the bottle but she did remember the intense, electric thrill of power that sang through her arm, charging her with strength. The bottle showered all three of them with glass and Lisa started to scream again as his body slumped over her. Faith managed to drag him off and then she called for an ambulance, despite Lisa's protests that they should just leave. The police came for her a week later - he was pressing charges. Neither the police nor her solicitor could find Lisa, Faith's only means of defence. But as she sat in the courtroom and looked over at him, she knew by the smug grin on his scarred face, that he had found Lisa. He had threatened her into staying away. Maybe even hurt her to make sure that she didn't come to the court and give her side of the story, the side that would have saved Faith from the judge's wrath. Six months was, regrettably, the harshest sentence the judge could hand down - due to Faith's age and the fact that she had called an ambulance and stayed with him until it arrived. He hadn't mentioned that the assault had happened in a whore house and despite that, the judge declared that it was a robbery that had gone wrong - that was the verdict and no one remembered Faith's explanation. Throughout the short trial, Faith had expected Lisa to appear and save her but was grateful when she didn't, fearful of reprisal. Her solicitor came down to the holding cells and suggested an appeal but she refused. She was taken to prison quietly, her thoughts on Lisa. And Lisa was constantly in her thoughts as she planned what she would do when she got out. Plans and dreams helped her to suffer the abuse. It didn't matter what they did to her - they couldn't take Lisa away.

 

When the guards had had their fill of her on that final day, they let her go with a warning to tell no one what had happened over the last six months. They didn't need to warn her, Faith wanted to forget the last half year as quickly as possible. The anticipation of seeing Lisa again kept the pain of that last abuse at bay. It was a brilliant sunny day with clear blue skies overhead and Faith had never felt so alive. She spent the only money she had on a train fare and walked the rest of the way to the estate where Lisa had lived and worked. The whole way there she rehearsed, over and over, what she would say. A whole new group of girls were working out of the flat and had no idea who Lisa was. She went to another flat and this time recognised the person who opened the door. Lisa's brother was both surprised and pleased to see her. 'What are you doing here? You want to come in?'

She could smell the drug smoke and shook her head, 'I'm looking for Lisa.'

'You're joking, right?'

'Is she here?'

'Nah - no one knows where she is. She took the money from that bloke and set up someplace else. She's made a whole new life for herself somewhere, no one knows where. She called Maggie, couple of months ago, to say that she was doing alright and that was the last anyone's heard from her.'

Faith stared at him, his words slowly sinking in, 'What money?'

'From that prick who beat her up. He paid her a fortune so that she wouldn't stand up in court and say what he had done. We all figured that you knew and that you had split the money. Sorry, babe, guess we got it wrong.'

Faith turned slowly. He said something else but she didn't hear him. She stumbled down the street, lost and confused. She was stopped by a hand on her shoulder.

'Where are you going? Have you got a place to go?'

Faith didn't answer, she just stared at him with empty, desolate eyes.

'Here,' he thrust a business card into her hand, 'this is where Maggie used to work. She says that the owner is a prick but it's all clean and above board. Maggie's dancing at Ice Queens now but I don't think they're looking for anyone.' He tapped the card, 'This lot are always looking for dancers though and you're pretty enough for them.'

Faith pushed the card into her pocket and mumbled thanks before she brushed past him and continued down the street.

 

The first signs of a harsh winter came just a few days later and Faith lost herself in the cold desolation of the streets of London. It was five weeks later that a pair of paramedics scooped her up and put her into the back of an ambulance after she collapsed while arguing over possession of her blanket at some nameless bus station. She was put in the ambulance and the ripped blanket, with a small amount of food wrapped in it, had disappeared by the time the driver started the engine.

 

She regained consciousness as a male casualty nurse was searching through her pockets in an attempt to find some identification. Exhausted and disorientated, she had mistaken him for one of the men who preyed on the younger homeless and had fought him with the last of her remaining strength. She had heard what had happened to others and that gave her enough strength to rip his arms open with her filthy nails. He yelled for assistance and she begged them to leave her alone as a needle punctured her arm and she slipped back into unconsciousness. After the male nurse had had his wounds tended to, he had continued his search, occasionally glaring angrily at Faith. He eventually found the card that Lisa's brother had given her and grunted. He recognised the name of the club and knew what kind of club it was. He took the card to the phone and rang the number, a woman answered, 'Diamonds Exotic Dancing.'

'This is Staff Nurse Myers at St Mary's Casualty. Could I speak to the owner or manager please?'

'I'll just get him for you.'

'Who's this?' a gruff voice had demanded a few moments later.

Myers repeated himself.

'And?'

'And I just fished this number out of a young woman's pocket. She has no identification with her and I was hoping that you might know her.'

'What does she look like?'

'About eighteen, nineteen, long brown hair, guess about five six, seven. It looks like she's been sleeping rough.'

'Is she pretty?'

'I guess, under all the dirt.'

'She's off the streets?'

'Seems that way.'

There was silence for a moment before, 'I'll send a car for her.'

'So, you know her?'

'Sure, her name's ... Claire.'

'Claire?'

'Yeah, Claire.'

'Right.'

The man on the other end of the phone must have heard the reservation in Myer's voice because he said, 'Look, how about my driver makes a donation to the staff New Year party, would that help?'

Myers looked at the bandage on his arm and flexed his fingers, feeling the scratches burn anew. 'Tell the driver to ask for Staff Nurse Myers, I'll take his donation personally.'

'And he'll take Kelly off your hands.'

'Claire.'

'Whatever.'