tagNovels and NovellasAny Opportunity Will Do Ch. 09

Any Opportunity Will Do Ch. 09


This is a story about two people trying to escape a sadistic Human Sex Trafficker.

There are some scenes of violence and non consensual sex. If you don't like this type of erotica please don't read it.

If you do like it, read on. Please enjoy and give feedback, as I am still writing later Chapters and as always I like to incorporate some of your suggestions for what will happen to the characters in to the story.


John came around as he felt the kick in his stomach, the pain radiating out from his bruised gut. Throwing up he lay on his side as hands grabbed at his arms hauling him to his knees, a fist in his hair pulled his head back and looking up through smoke filled red raw eyes he saw the man standing in front of him, tall, blond with a look of pure evil in his eyes.

"Where's the fucking girl?"

Coughing he answered "What girl?" just before the fist hit him across his chin causing him to fall sideways, lip split, blood filling his mouth.

Rough hands pulled him back up, and the deeply accented voice said again, "Where's the fucking girl?"

Looking up, his tongue running over the cut inside his mouth feeling it sting, he just shook his head, resigned to the beating he was about to get. Alexei nodded to Konstantin, who stepping forward told the two men holding John on his knees to get him standing. Feeling the hands under his arm pits he decided to at least go down fighting, and as he moved up to standing position he swung his right leg out hard, catching the bald thug between his thighs and getting his balls with a hard and vicious kick.

Konstantin crumpled, screaming in agony, his hands clutching his badly bruised and throbbing scrotum, the men around John had their attention momentarily taken from the man in their hands to their hurt colleague, and instantly John swung around hitting one of his captors with the side of his hand, a vicious karate type chop to the mans throat, cutting off his air, and then started to run into the area around the farm where there seemed to be a big gap between the many men standing around watching.

Shouts erupted behind him as he ran, dodging bullets, into the trees, into the dark night, as far away as he could place between him and the men now running chasing behind him.


At the local Police Station Sergeant Roberts put down the phone and called over to the young officer who was sitting at a desk filling in the multiple forms needed to be completed reporting about the motor bike accident he had attended earlier that evening.

"Darren get yourself over to the Sunny Nook Bed and Breakfast just on the edge of Brightstone and keep guard. I'll sort out some relief for you in a couple of hours. Apparently there are some people there that we need keeping an eye on. Make sure they don't leave, and no one goes in until you're told different."

"Yes Sarge!"

"Oh and you had better introduce yourself to the owner, he's an old friend of ours, retired copper from the Met. Let him know you're there and that were on the case."

Getting up, the young officer, only six months out of training grabbed his hat, put on his jacket and walked out towards his car, totally unarmed as all British coppers on the beat are, their only defence against the world their folded up metal stick and a lot of guts.


The two lover's bodies lay entwined upon the bed, hands stroking skin, lips and mouths nibbling and sucking at each others sensitive areas, legs rubbed against legs, and hot breath teased tender skin. Josh had seen the red marks on her back and buttocks and gently kissed the long angry looking weal's with tears in his eyes for the pain she must have felt.

Kat lay against his hot body, feeling really alive and cherished for the first time in months. She watched his blue eyes as he moved above her, being careful not to let his body press down on her, so that she would feel free and unrestricted, his hard penis rubbing between her thighs, stimulating and making her moist and ready. The tip of his shaft then pressed hard against her entrance, against the bruising that Alexei and his men's hard use had left, making her bite her bottom lip as Josh slipped slowly inside.

Settling his hips, his strong arms each side of her head, body raised, he started to move, slow and deep, the rhythm even, watching her face, taking his pace from her reaction to his hard shaft sliding in and out of the tight silky hole.

Her hands gripped around his back, her nails digging in, her knees raising up, thighs open to give him more access, as he pressed down harder, picking up the pace as he felt her body arch to meet his thrusts, hearing the soft wet noises as he delved and dipped into her.

Both of them panted, the pool of pleasure building, their bodies joined as one, pubic hair tangling, his balls slapping down against her small bottom, her clitoris exposed as he rocked his hips, pushing them forward in pleasure. Staying leant on one arm he moved his hand down between them, his thumb finding her hard and sensitive nub, and rubbed it as he moved inside of her, stronger and faster, watching her face as she built up towards her orgasm, a look of pure pleasure on her face, eyes wide, cheeks flushed she hovered until with one hard push of his cock she came, gasping and gripping him, her inner muscles pulling him deeper until he joined her, his sperm spilling into her womb.


Furious Alexei stood in front of the burning farm house, the sound of squawking hens making a noisy cacophony in the background looked towards the woods where his men had run after the fleeing man.

Suddenly his mobile rung, and getting it out of his pocket he screamed into the handset "What!"


Creeping up around the mansion, hidden in the dark the first wave of the Police team took their places for surveillance. Night binoculars trained on the house, the leader of the team spoke in a whisper to his second in charge. "No movement in the house. All lights are off."

"What about his security men, any sign of them?"

"No. Nothing. Not a thing."

"Do you think he knows we were coming? Could he have been tipped off?"

"Not sure. Our orders are to watch and wait. The men are all in place and that's what we are going to do."


The Polish girl lay worn out, her naked battered body tired from trying to catch the table leg and pull it towards her. Her ankle was bleeding where she had been pulling against the metal cuff around it for the past three hours. Her muscles were shaking from the effort and she lay there crying, scared that she would be found by the man, but unable to move, too tired to even get back up on the bed.

Hunger and thirst was draining what little strength she had, and she lay on the hard floor, shivering and frightened, until exhausted she fell asleep,


The bent copper stood apart, watching his colleagues as they crept into place, hidden behind a bush he spoke quietly into the phone. "They're down in the Isle of Wight, a place called Brightstone, in a small bed and breakfast called Sunny Nook."

Listening to the Russian voice at the other end of the line, he nodded, "If you leave now at this time of night you should get to Portsmouth in about four and a half hours tops. The ferries leave every half hour from around two in the morning." Telling the Russian that he should avoid coming back to his home as it was being surrounded he smiled to himself as he listened to the Russian man tell him he would be well rewarded for his help and put the mobile back in his pocket as he dreamed about the sleek sports car he was going to buy with his pay off.


Curled up spoon fashion, the two people slept replete and content, Josh's arms around Katrina, protective and strong, her small back against his front, his face buried into her hair, smelling the lemon tang from the shampoo she had used in his bathroom when she washed it only days before.

Downstairs the young copper was knocking on the front door, the quiet night surrounding the little village with its thatched cottages and well tended gardens. The occasional drunk weaved their unsteady way home from the pub, the only disturbance in the quiet out of season southerly point of the Island.

John's cousin opened the door, expecting a possible customer asking if there was a room vacant for the night, only to find the young copper standing there, hat in hand.

"Evening Sir, Sergeant Roberts said to tell you I'm standing guard duty for the next couple of hours. I'll be outside the door if you need me."

Offering to make the young lad a mug of tea, he went back into the cottage and started boiling up the water, shaking his head; he noted that since his time the men in the force seemed to get younger and younger, this one looked like he had only just left school.

The vanity of man. Not realising that he was just getting older and older.


Hiding inside the hollow of a tree, John held his breath as he watched a pair of legs walk by. His gut hurt, and the side of his face was swelling up, the split lip stinging. Listening to the shouts of men, he heard a voice telling the owner of the legs to return to the cars, that they knew the girl wasn't here but in the south, hiding out on the Isle of Wight.

How the fuck did they know that? John knew that he had to get to a phone and fast. His mobile had burnt along with his home, and the nearest public phone box was over a mile up the road. Hearing some shots he hunkered deeper into the hollow, listening out for any noise or crack of dry wood underfoot.

Waiting until he heard the cars leave he got out of the hollow gingerly, holding his stomach, and keeping low, in case they had left any men behind to get him he made his careful way back towards the burning house and his van.

Seeing the glow of the fire between the trees he stopped just short of the clearing, checking the area out, before making his way around the edge of the trees until he was at the back of the ruins of his home. The shots he had heard had been to destroy his tyres, and fuel tank, the petrol now leaking out, dangerously soaking the ground around, the house fire sending off embers into the air, falling around on the farm houses neat garden was a combination for disaster.

Running over to the barn he opened the doors allowing the hens to escape, before starting off for the telephone booth up the dark country lane, keeping close to the trees that lined it, so he couldn't be seen.

Within minutes he heard the explosion as his van, and the rest of his home and his business was destroyed.


The procession of sleek black cars sped along, joining the A1, this time of night with very few cars, and speeding up, hitting a steady hundred miles an hour, they made their way south, an apoplectic Alexei in the front car vowing to take out his revenge on the girl and the man at being unable to return to his beautiful home in the Midlands of England, now under surveillance by the authorities

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