Elizabeth at War Ch. 05 - Silver

Darkness enfolded the nondescript car. A silver Mercedes waited at a deserted loading platform. André frowned. That was careless of her to leave it in the open. Slivers of light around the distant office door, another sign that things were getting lax. Well, the place will be cleaned up and sold on in the coming week.

A bare functional office awaited him. He looked at the dossiers on the table and felt pleasure surge in him. Nothing can stop him. But he frowned again. Four?

Renate stepped into the light, gleaming in her silver bodysuit. She kneeled, her hands behind her back, and bowed her blonde head. Gleaming hair tumbled over her face. She waited.

Andre put a hand under her chin, lifted her head. Her eyes widened in anticipation. He nodded.

"You have done well." He noted the almost orgasmic reaction and smiled inwardly.

"Tell me about them."

She remained on her knees but began. "Sherry is a natural. I found her at a shelter for women in distress. She was only too eager to get into my bed..."

"Less about you, more about her."

Her eyes widened in terror. "I'm... I'm sorry, André. She is passionate, desperate, has no connections, nobody to look for her. She is already broken to orgasmic pleasure and has reacted well to pain conditioning. Her IQ tests in the high 130's. She has an aptitude for mathematics and was studying statistics when she dropped out."

He grunted. She would be good at Racto Industries, they needed a statistical analyst. "Finishing?"

"My estimate is that she needs a minimum. I would say three days with you for imprinting, sir, and some with Sam or Donald. Then she would..."

"She's at the apartment?"

"Yes, sir, she had five orgasms yesterday, and she's usually totally passive for at least one day afterwards. I had planned..."

He made a gesture. "Next?"

She nodded, swallowing. "Donna comes from an upper middle-class family with good Midwest connections. She got involved with a bad guy, got into the drug culture, and was on her way down. I signed him off, had her in isolation here for a month, screaming and going cold turkey. Sam took her every day, she is broken to him, will do anything for him. He had her twice yesterday. It would take your weaning her off, imprinting her on you, she is ready for that. She needs a father figure, a guiding light, a master. Her strong point is people, she has an ability to read people, worm herself under their skin, seduce them, make them trust her. She has a business background and an IQ of 135. A good organiser."

André nodded. The CEO of Telsom needed a replacement PA. "She is here?"

She nodded. "Yes, Sir. I have her in sensory deprivation at the moment, waiting for you."

He nodded. "Next?"

"Bronwen is a rare beauty, Irish ancestry, red hair, white skin, green-brown eyes. Old money family, but they threw her out for drug use and an unacceptable boyfriend. Total dependence on someone else to take decisions for her. Dumb as a plank, sexy as hell. She got pregnant, an unacceptable sin to them. She was desperate. She is on an orgasm a day, cocaine substitute, mild dominance, and a belief that she will be taken care of by a hidden master. She is ready for you to step in and redirect her life."

"The child?"

"Aborted. She refused, the trauma is part of my... our hold on her, the belief that she is sinful and can expiate it through obedience."

He nodded. "At the apartment?"

"Yes, lazing in the sun, sleeping when Donald's not fucking her. Happy as a pig in shit."

André nodded. There are several clients in need of a sex puppet. Or maybe he should keep her floating? A holiday fucktoy for big businessmen? That will take administration, and with Renate out of the picture someone else would have to handle that. Perhaps Donna for the interim?

"And the fourth? I thought we agreed that three would be enough?"

She cringed.

"A girl I picked up at a truck stop, sir. Totally anonymous. I was on my way back from dropping Cecilia off, sir. I judged that it would be risky flying out with her, there's all sorts of identity checks, and you do remember she was on a watch list for trafficked persons. And I love taking the toy you bought me out on the long road."

He nodded, his face inscrutable. His opinion was confirmed, she would have to go. A speeding ticket, a chance recognition near where Cecilia was being infiltrated... The stakes were higher now.

"So tell me about this girl?"

"Jessica, sir. Mid twenties. Out of some cow town in the backwoods. Ran away because of a forgotten sex scandal in her religious community, and she believing she was condemned to a life in sin. She feels she needs to be punished. Highly intelligent, IQ at genius level, but untrained apart from basic household duties and managing a farmer's supply store. Shows exceptional linguistics skills, people skills, maths aptitude, some mechanic aptitude."

"You had her?"

She nodded, fear again flashing in her eyes. "Yes, sir. I... I needed...

He gestured, and she hurried on. "She was unwilling, had never been with a woman before. I had to take a strap to her. She hated it and loved it. It was as if a dam broke for her, she needed the punishment. I've not had Sam take her yet."

André nodded. Placing her would take some skill. Unless she showed some exceptional promise she would have to disappear. Another unwanted complication.

"Family? Connections?"

"Her family has written her off, sir. She has no contact with them, no links, nothing."

André nodded again. "Sam and Donald are here?"

She shook her head. "Sam is on standby, sir, Donald is off for the coming week."

"Who authorised that?"

Her eyes were wild with terror. 'I'm sorry, sir, it was according to schedule. He was due his leave. I can call him back, I know where... And you were overseas, sir."

Another confirmation. She was not supposed to know that, merely that he was out of town.

"No matter. You have done well. Now I will need you to do a job for me, and you will be rewarded. Fetch the Jessica girl."

"Of course, sir, but sir, may I please ask forgiveness for what I did wrong? May I pleasure you, please?"

He looked into the pleading eyes, knowing that he would never use her again, and said: "Turn around, bend over the desk. No, first take off this stupid suit. Why do you insist on wearing it?"

She said, timidly: "I like the feel, sir, and it makes me feel safe, knowing that someone would not take me easily. You did say you liked it, sir?"

He looked as the magnificent body came to view. The ample breasts, the lean, muscular stomach, the strong thighs. "When last did you have a man?"

"Two weeks ago, sir, before I took Cecelia out. Sam..."

He waved her explanation away. His belt slid out of the loops. "Turn, bend over."

The fear, the anticipation in her eyes fired the small feeling of lust in him, and the first stripes on her pale buttocks made him hard. He strapped her until she whimpered, drooled on the cheap wood, then he entered her, brutally, shoving her against the desk, and came in a few thrusts.

"There. Now get the girl. Standard restraint."

As she left he made a call.

"Brian, André here. I need a disappearance. Mercedes Coupé. Are you open?"

A rough voice answered. "André? The guy with the..."

He interrupted. "No identification. Are you there? Can I have it dropped now?"

The rough voice held back laughter. "This is when we work, man. Yes, send it over, it will take an hour or less. I can sell the parts?"

André nodded. "Anything that cannot be traced. The girl who brings it too. Total disappearance, like last time. Can you do it?"

Some caution now. "A girl? Of course we can, you had any comebacks on the last time? What sort of girl?"

"Young, beautiful, what more do you want to know?"

A rough chuckle. "Can we have fun first?"

"Do what you want but get rid of the car and the body by sunrise. Your fun and your profit is enough payment?"

Bill thought for a moment. "I guess I could touch you for a mil or so, but, hey, depends on how much fun. I'll take it out of the next job, ok?"

Renate came back with a dark-haired woman, her arms strapped behind her. She was dressed in jeans and a white, rather grubby blouse. André looked into apprehensive eyes. There was something there. Maybe he could use her.

"On your knees. Now. Obey."

Her eyes flashed something of resignation, something of acceptance. From a drawer he pulled a face mask and earphones. With practised movements he slid them on to her. Now she could see nothing, hear nothing until he opened the small microphone.

To Renate he said. "Call Sam on your way out. Here is the address. Take the Mercedes there and ask for Brian. He will be waiting. Do what he wants. Go now."

She sprang up and gushed: "Thank you, sir, thank you, André. I'm going immediately. You know you can trust me."

He nodded. "I know."

Sam nodded a greeting as he came into the office. André looked at him pensively. An undocumented immigrant, on the run from the police, no social skills to survive. He owed everything to André, his food, lodging, sex, even the hundred dollars he sent to his destitute mother somewhere in Africa every now and then. Strong, sexually insatiable, tractable, not curious at all. He would be useful for a while longer.

A touch on the microphone, his most persuasive voice to the girl.

"You are mine now. You owe me everything, understand? I can give punishment and pain, I can give rewards and pleasure. Nod if you understand me."

She nodded, a soft word of assent sounding.

"I did not give you permission to talk. You are going to be punished for enjoying relations with a woman without my permission. Are you sorry? You may say so now."

She whispered. "I'm sorry. I knew it was wrong, but she..."

"She will never bother you again. From now on you only take pleasure when and where I allow you."

He turned off the microphone. "Bare her arse, Sam."

The jeans came off and he took a moment to gauge the revealed flesh. Too fat, not much muscular development, but there was a basis. He took the belt from the desk and started beating her. When her back and buttocks were red, he lifted her sobbing head from the desk and touched the microphone button.

"This is the penalty for disobedience, understand?"

She nodded through her sobs. He continued:

"This is your reward for obedience." He turned the microphone off and nodded to Sam. "I want two orgasms. Not anally for now."

Twenty minutes later Sam stood back. She had come almost immediately when he had entered her, and he had managed to keep the orgasm going for a long time. The second orgasm had to be coaxed out of her bruised body, but Sam was an expert. Andre nodded to him.

"Good work. There will be a van here in ten minutes. I want this girl and the other one put inside, both restrained and in sensory deprivation headsets. There will be bags in the van, bag them both. You will clean out all your stuff, there will be crates in the van. Also disconnect and crate all the computers. The driver is Mearsden, he is on our team now. He will take you to a house, you will put the girls in two of the basement rooms. I will come to them later. Get yourself a room on the ground floor, Mearsden will show you. There is food and drink. I should be there by ten, then we can plan the work."

Sam nodded. "Miss Renate's stuff?"

Andre shook his head. "Leave it. Do as I say. See you at the house."

***

Brian watched the silver car slide to a halt and nodded to Harry and Tom. "Right on time. Come, boys, she does not suspect anything. But be ready if she acts up."

She slid out of the silver car, her silver bodysuit catching the light from the cutting torches. The men at work stopped, stared. Young Manuel had his mouth open.

Brian held the door, took her proffered hand, swung her around, his other hand going around her neck. She began to struggle, but Henry had a knife to her throat. Brian half lifted, half pushed her to the nearest workbench, slammed her against the rough wood. He turned to the other men.

"Come, guys, you've seen a woman before. And you can have a piece of her when we are through. You too, Manuel, perk of the job, first blowjob from an Anglo! Now, get to work, the car is hot, get what we can sell, the rest goes into the crusher. Pablo, you take care of serial numbers, ok?"

The girl screamed as the first torch flame cut into the silver bodywork, the first wrenches rattled into the engine compartment, but Brian laughed. "Let's see you out of that suit, sweetheart. Harry, get it off."

She screamed again as the sharp blade nicked her in several places, but the silver suit peeled off. Harry laughed as she struggled and cried.

"Nothing to get worked up, love. A few more cuts might just make you frisky. But what a body. Let's have a feel."

He grabbed her breast as he fumbled with his trousers. Behind her Brian thrust against her buttocks. "Henry, choke her a little, get the fight out of her. Ah, let me get my pants off. You take the front, I'll take the back."