Chapter 1

 

 

"Life wearies me," Megan said with an extravagant groan.

Samantha raised her eyebrows and pursed her lips. "You mean you're bored."

"That's what I said." Megan scowled.

Samantha rolled her eyes, then looked ahead and slowed her walk, nudging her blonde companion and nodding her head.

"What do you think?"

Megan pursed her lips. "Party."

"Mmm. All the proper people," Samantha said in mock awe.

They walked closer, watching a line of glistening limousines pull through the open gate and up before the entrance of a large Victorian manor.

"I dunno," Megan said, watching men in tuxedos and women in gowns make their dignified way up the steps. "Looks like a dreary lot, far too serious and full of themselves."

"Well, Knightsbridge is, isn't it?" Samantha replied with a shrug. "Still, probably be decent food. And perhaps we can find our own...entertainment."

Megan reached up and combed her fingers through her thick golden hair. "Bloody foreigners," she said. "What's the flag?"

"Dunno. Does it matter?"

They started across the street, Samantha starting to giggle as they approached the gate. Megan caught her arm and they hurried forward as a car turned in, coming up behind it and positioning themselves behind a group of expensively dressed people.

They walked solemnly up the stairs, both fighting to hide laughter as a distinguished looking black man at the door greeted each of the newcomers.

"What do we do when..."

"Hssst!" Megan cut her off.

"So good of you to come, your excellency," the man said, shaking hands with the man just in front of them.

He turned and his eyes widened as he caught sight of the two girls. Then Megan threw herself into his arms, crushed her lips against him and gave him an enormous French kiss that sent him stumbling back against the wall.

Samantha burst into laughter and rushed past, Megan quickly following. They turned down the nearest hall, away from where everyone else seemed headed, then took a flight of stairs three at a time.

They ran down a hall, finding one half of a double door open and rushed inside, closing and locking it behind.

"Oh God!" Samantha laughed.

Megan held herself as she laughed.

"I haven't had that much fun since high school!"

"Has been a dull six months, hasn't it," Samantha giggled, looking around at the room.

It was a large, comfortably decorated office, with bookcases lining the walls, a heavy leather sofa, and, to Samantha's delight, a wet bar in one corner. She hurried over to it as Megan wandered to the desk, sat down heavily in the executive chair behind it, and began to leaf through the correspondence and files she found.

"Nigeria," she said.

"How nice for them," Samantha replied from the corner. "Care for a drink, love?"

"Scotch?"

"Of course. Hmmm, no ice, though."

"Bloody wogs."

When the door opened Megan was slouching back in the chair, squinting at the strange looking writing on the paper she was holding. Samantha ducked down as a pair of large, uniformed men rushed in.

Megan, who was caught red-handed, as it were, simply shrugged and smiled at the two, showing little fear or alarm. She held up her glass towards one and cocked an eyebrow inquisitively.

"I don't suppose you happened to bring any ice with you," she said in her melodious voice.

She was surprised and angered at the roughness with which the two men yanked her out of the chair, and struggled as they pulled her to the door.

"Look you bloody wogs I..."

Her voice was cut off when one of the men turned and backhanded her, sending her head whipping backwards. Shocked, tears started to come to her eyes from the force of the blow as she was dragged from the room

The two men hissed to each other in a language she did not understand as they dragged her down the corridor towards the stairs. They forced her down a back stairwell, then down another flight, leading her through dimly lit halls of dank stone and mortar. She had started to realize punishment would be severe for her latest mischief, but hadn't the faintest clue of just how severe that punishment would be.

For all her belief in her own sophistication Megan really did have a fairly simplistic view of life. No one had ever really punished her for much of anything, nor denied her much of anything. And while she had been aware for quite some years that many people desired her body she had not grasped the thought yet that some would wish to do her actual harm.

Frightened by the blow she had received, and still tasting blood in her mouth from a slightly cut lip she made no effort to resist as the men dragged her along. Inside her mind she was secure in the belief that as soon as the two goons led her to someone of intelligence, someone with whom she could talk rationally, she would be released, probably with an apology to her for the blow.

That belief was dealt a severe blow when she was half thrown into a narrow stone cell, and one of the angry men had made a gesture at her which she simply did not understand.

Cursing, the two men had grabbed her once again, and to her shock and disbelief, their strong, rough hands had stripped away her dress. She screamed and struggled, but another blow, this time a slap across the face that set her ears ringing had put an end to that.

The last of her dress was torn free and she stumbled back to fall to the cold stone. One of the men bent over her, hands gripping her stylish thong and yanking it down, her legs jerking into the air as she cried out, then dropping back hard to the floor as the thong slipped over her ankles. Another man squatted above her, hands tugging at her bra, undoing it, then yanking it up and off with force enough to bruise her arms.

Nude, she had scrambled back into the corner, mortified and shocked, only to have the door slam shut. She blinked her wide blue eyes in the darkness, holding her shaking body, feeling goose bumps rise on her bare skin real fear started to creep over her.

She hugged her knees, sitting awkwardly on the cold stone, breasts pressed against her legs as she fought back fears of rape and tried to cope with the mortification she felt at being stripped naked by the strange black men.

In truth, Megan was far from the jaded girl she pretended. She was in many ways a spoiled girl living an easy life. All her life people had smiled and been nice to her. She'd been a very cute little girl, after all, and had grown into a lovely young woman. She had a narrow face with high cheekbones, a thin aristocratic nose, and startlingly bright blue eyes with thick lashes.

People looked at her face and smiled, or perhaps licked their lips appreciatively. They were invariably nice to her, and she'd grown happily accustomed to it.

* * * * *

An hour later the door was flung open again, and as the light snapped on and her eyes blinked in its sudden glare the same men had yanked her to her feet and pulled her down the hall.

Nudity had dealt a terrible blow to her confidence and all she sought to do as the men pulled her along was cover her lush body. When she had been dragged into a larger, brightly lit room and before two more men she had burned with embarrassment as their eyes roamed her body.

"How dare you do this to me!" she cried. "I'm a British cit..."

Again a hand cracked across her face, turning her words to a scream of pain. Legs rubbery, her arms were pulled before her and metal shackles slipped over her wrists, then they were raised high and she was lifted off her feet. An instant later her wrists burned as the shackles dug in, and her toes wriggled helplessly an inch from the floor.

"Wha...what are you...doing!?" she cried. "Are you mad!?"

Another slap threw her head back and rocked her back in pain and she burst into tears before the men, horrified by her exposure and the violence directed at her.

Her willowy body was stretched out, her arms high, back straight and straining. Her full, round breasts jiggled as she shook with sobs.

"What were you doing in the high commissioner's office?" a thickly accented voice demanded.

She seized upon the recognizable words with desperate relief.

"Nothing!" she cried. "All we were doing... I mean..."

"We? Who is we?"

"I mean all I was doin..."

The man cupped her naked breast, and she stopped in shock at his temerity. She stared at him, outraged and humiliated, face burning with shame as he smirked down at her and fingered her nipple.

He lifted her breast up and then suddenly closed his fingers in hard and twisted savagely. She screamed in pain, her body thrashing wildly. She kicked out at him as agony shot through her sensitive breast and he was forced to jump back, releasing it.

She sobbed openly as the man barked orders in a foreign language. Two men disappeared while another pulled her legs apart, fitting shackles to her trim ankles and chaining them to points in the floor.

"Now you will tell me who you work for," the man said.

"I-I... don't have a job," she sobbed.

She choked, her head thrown forward as a fist sank into her soft stomach, choked and coughed helplessly, much of the breath knocked out of her by the cruel blow.

"You will tell me who you work for and who was with you," he said.

"I...I...no-nobody," she said in a choked voice.

His hand seized her breast, still throbbing in pain.

"No! Please!" she begged.

He twisted and she screamed, her body jerking and straining at the chains as her breast burned. He watched cooly, released it, then seized her other breast, pale beside the redness of the first.

"No! I'll tell!" she screamed.

He loosened his hand, stroking the soft skin, thumb rubbing idly at her nipple.

"I...we just came in on a lark!" she gasped. "We just wanted some fun is all. We didn't mean to do anything wrong!"

"Who is we?"

"My girlfriend Sam," she exclaimed. "We were just wandering is all, looking for something to do!"

"And who does this Sam work for?"

She gaped at him, panting for breath. "Nobody!" she exclaimed. "We were just..."

His fist tightened on her breast and twisted sadistically.

She sobbed brokenly as he held her breast, crying out in despair as the pain continued to batter at her mind.

He stepped back, saying a word to one of the other men with him. The man moved aside, then handed him a long metal tube with a leather handle at one end.

"Who do you work for?" he demanded.

Megan only sobbed miserably.

A thin smile lit his face and he raised the end of the tube, sliding it along her pale, trembling body, easing it down along one hip, then, as he moved behind her, pressing it against the back of one knee. His finger depressed a small button and Megan howled madly, shaking and thrashing violently, the chains rattling at her ankles.

He moved around beside her, raising his hand to comb back the untidy bangs which had fallen over her forehead, stroking the side of her head, then letting his hand ease down her back until his fingers were rubbing gently at the soft cleft between her buttocks.

"Now you must tell me the truth," he said softly. "I have no wish to cause you pain. You are a very beautiful young lady. It pains me to cause you such distress."

"But I-I-I aaaam," she cried, voice broken by sobs.

He raised the end of the metal tube and brought it up to gently touch her below her chin. Her head jerked back explosively and hung there dazedly as her body shuddered and trembled.

"I admire strength," he said. "But I have my job to do. You will not be able to continue with this, so you would do better to speak the truth now. It will save you much... pain."

He pressed the tip of the probe against one nipple and again she screamed, her head snapping forward again, her body trembling and shaking.

Again he combed the hair back from her forehead. This time it was matted against her sweating skin. Her features were drawn and haggard and tears had wetted her cheeks.

"What is your name?" he asked softly.

"M-M-Megan," she whimpered.

"Megan is a pretty name," he said, stroking her hair. "In my country we have better things for pretty girls than making them spy on our neighbors. Pretty women like you are made to give pleasure to men."

He ran the tube slowly across her body, then circled her. Her head hung forward loosely and she moaned in confusion and pain, hardly feeling it at first as the tube prodded against her anal opening.