CHAPTER 1

 

The taxi driver glanced again at the reflection of his passenger in his mirror and felt his pulse quicken. She was a truly lovely woman, probably in her thirties, but she could have been much younger such was her complexion and figure, long dark hair brushing her bare shoulders above the elegant little dress. With her looks and presence she could easily have been a film star but he didn't recognise her. The dress was sufficiently low enough to reveal her enticing and creamy cleavage and short enough to let him see her long and toned thighs. The enticing scent of her expensive perfume drifted to him; she was certainly one hell of a gorgeous woman.

Despite his age, nearer to him drawing a pension than he would have preferred and happily married, for two pins he could imagine sliding that dress off her slim shoulders and taking her in his arms, pressing her lushness against him, imagining her melting against him as she sighed, squeezing her pert bottom. He felt his trousers tighten and swiftly got his mind onto another tack before he rammed the dustcart in front of him.

He could see that despite her beauty and her sophistication, she was not a happy bunny. You had to be a good people-watcher in his business. She constantly cast anxious glances between her gold watch and the crowded London streets as they crawled along in a jam, just managing to refrain from nibbling her long red fingernails. Her eyes, large and sparkling, full of possible promise, were just too good to be burdened with such tension.

"Please, is there any quicker way, cabbie?" Her voice, English, probably southern counties, was cultured and refined albeit now strained.

"Sorry miss... another tube strike, it's slowing everything down."

"How-how long do you reckon to Lewisham?"

"Hard to say... maybe twenty minutes?" he ventured - wondering why a sophisticated creature like her would want to go to the address she had given, a run-down area of what was a fairly downtown suburb. He'd loved to have been able to do something to cheer her up, someone so beautiful shouldn't be so sad; what could she have to worry about? She could have the world at her feet - he certainly would have been. Someone like her belonged in a big posh country house or abroad - being indulged by a rich handsome man. Right now he judged that she was an uptown girl heading downtown - and not liking it.

 

***

 

As she nervously tried to contain her anguish in the slow moving cab Kathy too wondered why on earth she was bothering to make this journey. She caught the cabbie's eye flashing over her legs and instinctively tugged down the hem of her dress, wishing it wasn't so short. Yet she knew she had to do this; she had to wear such clothes rather than her comfy loafing jeans, she had no choice if she wanted her family's now fairly tranquil and comfortable life to continue.

Mind you, her life hadn't always been tranquil. Five months earlier it had been frightening and shameful when, on a Middle Eastern holiday she, her husband and daughter, had become prisoners of a sadistic and powerful princess. She had used them brutally in her harem in many sordid and disgusting ways until they had been rescued. She still sometimes awoke at night, sweating, thinking that her torment as a slave was still on-going. And in a way it was.

Sasha, her one time work colleague, sometimes blonde and sometimes redhead - depending on her mood - had been mixed up in her kidnap. Incongruously, though, Sasha had also been instrumental in helping their rescuers save them, for whatever motive. And for that Kathy had been grateful and agreed that Sasha shouldn't be locked up by the Middle Eastern authorities with the princess and other culprits. It was a mistake.

That evil girl was now in London and blackmailing her with the threat of releasing onto the internet disgusting and sordid films of their ordeals taken by their captors. Bad enough it featured her and her husband but the films also included her teenage daughter, Lauren, who had now just started at a posh university after recovering from her ordeal. She was young and fresh, with so much ahead of her, Kathy knew that she must avoid the shame of those awful films becoming public. They would stir up horrific memories of their ordeal, the torture, doing disgusting things with other women - so many acts which she and Lauren found so unnatural. She couldn't risk dragging her daughter into the mire again.

Already she had got back several films by fulfilling Sasha's humiliating demands but today should see the end of her obligations, one way or the other. Sasha, if she could be believed, had announced that she was leaving London within a week and that this would be Kathy's last such journey to Lewisham, but much depended on her not being late. To take her mind off the crawling traffic she fumbled in her handbag for the tenth time to ensure that she still had the little camcorder memory stick, part of her sordid bargain with Sasha.

The texts from the cow had begun three months earlier, explaining the existence of the films taken in the harem and what she had to do to get them back. What she was being forced to do made her shudder in distaste. Now, every two or three weeks she had to activate the two camcorders which Sasha had given her to hide in her bedroom to record her intimate moments with her husband, Fred. Why the hell the crazy bitch wanted them, she didn't know - except presumably to extract more drops of humiliation from her. Looking at the memory stick, she could recall its contents. Like the others it was indelibly and shamefully imprinted in her mind after checking that morning that it had dutifully recorded her and Fred last night.

"Oh Fred, Fred, yes, ohh, please...yes, give it to me hard," Kathy had gasped theatrically as her husband pounded into her doggy fashion where she was on all fours on the bed. Her voice and actions had sounded so alien to her. She felt herself flushing now in the taxi at the thought. One of his hands had deliciously mashed and squeezed her boobs, the other furrowing below her belly to flick her moistening clitoris. He had felt so good though, so large inside her as her internal muscles clutched him, her hips working with his. "Yes, now... f-k me hard. Give it to me," she cried, her hair cascading around her face as she felt him swell within her and then his lust burst deep within her.

She had subsided as he flopped over her, panting together, her breasts heaving. Their lovemaking was good, she couldn't deny it and she had nearly come that time rather than faking it, but doggy fashion was not her ideal. She loved it best when she and Fred undulated together side by side, able to kiss and look at each other, a soft gentle approach. But unfortunately, for the moment, such private decisions were denied her, along with her privacy whenever Sasha demanded another recording.

The control freak would stipulate the exact sex positions she wanted to see and the type of filthy language she must use, almost like an obscene film director. Fred must at times think she was on some sex drug; she was forced to be so wanton. Maybe he thought it was a result of her 'training' under the princess - and maybe that had helped her act the part that Sasha demanded, she conceded; certainly her horrific experiences overseas had taught her more about herself. The bitch also stipulated the exact time she was to bring the recording to her and even the type of clothing she had to wear - always expensive and out of place for the dingy neighbourhood where the cow had rented a flat.

Kathy knew that the price for retrieving the films was high. Sometimes she wondered if she was doing right by following the hideous blackmail demands. But Sasha had told her that if she followed the instructions to the letter, all of those really vile films taken in that hell place would be returned to her. Kathy reasoned that if Sasha had kept copies of the films and intended to release them later anyway, she must realise that she too would have much to lose. It would be obvious who had posted them and Sasha, the only member of the culprits to have been freed, would be implicated and imprisoned.

When the cow had first made the demands, Kathy was certainly still a bit frazzled after her terrible time as a slave. But now, although she was aware that to 'buy' the films back she was having to give her tormentor even more material, albeit of a more 'natural' sexual nature, she had worked out a plan to stop it. At worst, after the final exchange today, the cow would have a few films of her and Fred making love - but people sometimes posted those sort of things onto websites anyway - they wouldn't attract that much attention. At best, her secret plan would work and she would retrieve all the films and then get justice over the woman she had once thought of as a colleague, almost a friend.

She and Sasha had been executives together in the company of which her husband was a director and, although Kathy had only been working part time for pin money, Sasha had obviously taken her job a lot more seriously with a hidden rivalry turning to hatred, then using her past friendship with the princess to exact revenge. Still, that was in the past; Kathy knew she must look to the future.

A few fears and doubts about her plan had surfaced but Kathy tried to hype herself up and quench them with anger against her opponent. She clenched her fists in suppressed fury in the rear of the cab. She recalled only too well the previous instances of reporting to the girl who was blackmailing her. And although just maybe she had discovered a small and secret submissive side after her awful experiences in the harem, she really did not relish again being in the hands of Sasha.

Kathy toyed impulsively with the idea of not going through with this final demand. The woman was leaving soon after all. Did she really care that much if as a parting shot the cow carried through her threat to put on the internet the films of her doing those terrible things in the harem - or the shots in her bedroom with husband Fred? It would almost be exciting, an illicit fame trip. She snapped her thoughts away from that path, biting her full lip with fear and shame. Her life and her family's would be in ruins.

For the hundredth time Kathy told herself that she was doing the right thing in keeping this appointment with her tormentor, the dreadful films in the harem had included Lauren and she must protect her daughter from more damage. But she had now taken precautions to ensure the blackmail would indeed be over for good. Cautiously, she fingered the small handgun in her pocket, visualising the locked cupboard in the flat where Sasha kept all the film material.

She had obtained the gun illegally, reluctantly and secretly from her daughter's boyfriend, Tarik. He had worked as a waiter in the Middle Eastern country where they had been abducted. The lad had realised their fate and had engineered their rescue from Princess Saleena. Kathy had left a delayed-send message from her voicemail to his telling him where she was now going and why. If he knew in advance he would undoubtedly want to assist her again and that wouldn't be fair to him; it was her private dirty work. He was starting out afresh with Lauren and was holding down a good job here in England with her husband's company. He had bright prospects and a future with her daughter.

He had originally been bemused and concerned about her request for the weapon - he seemingly knew all the right contacts for that sort of thing - but she had sworn him to secrecy, explaining, with an element of truth, that it was for her personal protection after her experiences in the harem. She knew that he wouldn't get her message for another few hours, but it was the least she could do to enlighten him after the event. By then it would all be over one way or the other, hopefully with her marching Sasha to a police station at gunpoint after having destroyed all the incriminating films and memory sticks. And if not... well, at least someone would know what had happened to her - she didn't want to involve anyone else. She must protect her family against more trauma, thus she daren't tell Fred about her blackmail, least of all about the secret cameras she had been forced to deploy in their bedroom.

But even if it did go wrong and she couldn't overpower Sasha, Tarik would at least presumably find her lifeless body in the flat - hopefully alongside Sasha's, she thought glumly, but Lauren and Fred would be largely sheltered from it all.

Once again, Kathy glanced at her wristwatch, ten minutes before the time Sasha told her to be there and the traffic was rather heavy. Sasha had a short lease on the dingy sparsely furnished flat in Lewisham, South London, which so far only she knew about. She was annoyed with herself that the possibility of being late worried her, especially now that she had the power to stop Sasha, but she couldn't help but recall the first time she had been late, her second summons to the flat a couple of months ago. As usual she had knocked, awaited the sound of the electronic bolt being withdrawn and the faint summons from within.

"You're late," the young bitch had spat from where she reclined on the flat's one easy chair, her fingers trailing though her hair, today blonde. She looked relaxed and tanned, not bad for someone who she understood had once been an 'Essex Girl,' so the rumours had circulated at work.

"Sorry the traffic was..."

"Shut it, I don't want to hear your pathetic excuses, you old cow!" She knew just how to hurt, verbally and physically. "I'm now going to have to cane you for each of the five minutes you've kept me waiting."

"Oh, look... please Sasha, I've brought the bloody memory stick, it's all on there, just let me have the next film from the harem and... hahh," Kathy had staggered back, clutching her stinging face where Sasha had just slapped it. She clenched her fists impotently, instinctively wanting to strike back, or even storm out. But she knew she could do neither without risk. A flicker of the terrible fear which had experienced in the harem of the princess returned to haunt her. It subdued and immobilised her; she didn't want to be servile again but the bitch had once again forced to become a victim.

"Strip, or within minutes the remainder of those films will be public knowledge!" The threat was casual but very frightening. Sasha unlocked the cupboard where she kept the films and fitted one in her laptop. Kathy felt sick as the images flickered onto the screen of her daughter with a young Negro overseer. The tearful expression on Lauren's face said it all.