Enlightened Descent Ch. 14

Asha nodded, leaving the wad of cash in her pocket. It had cost eighteen pounds each for the fare, leaving them just under ninety pounds between them. They both knew that this was not going to last very long. Contacting anyone from Asha's family was out of the question as she was certainly still being sought after. No. the only option was to contact Allison's family in the US. Surely by now they would have given up on her ever being found alive.

"Where is your family?" Asha asked, almost ashamed to have never enquired before.

"A small town called Pleasantville, in Pennsylvania." Allison admitted.

Asha noticed a sad expression fall over her lover's face. "It has been a long time since you have seen them, has it not?"

"Oh." Allison sighed. "Far longer than you can know." She tried to remember when she had last seen her parents. Oh, they had spoken on the phone, at holidays and birthdays, but nothing substantive was ever discussed. Allison worried suddenly, that they might not even realize that she had been missing.

The weather had turned by the time they reached Bristol/Temple Meads station, and the rain pelted down in sheets as they stood on the sheltered platform. Knowing that they could not simply stand there, Asha and Allison made their way to the exit.

The next issue that they were made conscious of, was that neither of them had any sort of identification. In fact, had they been stopped by a police officer, they would have been snagged for vagrants. Neither had any clue what the policy was in England concerning undocumented persons, so they needed to come up with something, and quickly.

They found a small restaurant, a run down diner of sorts quite near the train station, and slipped inside for a much needed cup of coffee and something inexpensive to eat.

"Allison? What are we going to do?" Asha whispered.

"I'm thinking." Allison sipped her coffee, and nibbled patiently on her raisin scone, trying to make it last and satiate her gnawing hunger pangs. "Aside from running to the nearest US embassy, I really don't have a clue right now."

"That may very well work for you, but I sincerely doubt they would do much for a Shaykhah from Qatar."

"Yes, my love, you are right. But my good fortune is your good fortune." Allison assured. "I can't think of anything else."

The sensation of clothing against her skin was so foreign now, that Penny found the constant rubbing almost unbearable. Reginald had insisted however, and was intent on taking her to a party, where Penny was certain that she would be the center of attention.

The evening gown was quite flattering, and even with her exaggerated physique, it lent a certain normalcy to her appearance, especially considering that he had purchased a wig to cover her permanently hairless pate. Even so, Penny knew that she was anything but normal.

Throughout the meal, where 'Reggie' as they all called him, seemed to be the guest of honor, Penny was treated with abject condescension. The looks she garnered from the other guests were less than flattering, especially from the women. Many conversations were had at her expense, of that she was certain.

Near the end of the meal, of which she ate very little; unaccustomed to the richness of the food, Penny was led away from the table by members of the staff. She looked to Reginald, who nodded his approval, after which, she offered no resistance.

In a room adjacent to the elaborate dining room, Penny was stripped of her clothing, her wig was removed and even her teeth were taken. She then knew that Reginald was complicit in this, as they would not have been loose in her mouth without his control.

They left her there, completely exposed. The room was sparsely decorated, chairs lining the walls, very feng shui. Penny didn't know whether to simply stand there in the middle where she was left, or have a seat in one of the ornately upholstered chairs. She didn't have to wonder long.

Almost en-mass, the entire entourage of guests filed into the room, much to Penny's dismay. She stood, clearly on display to all, as Reginald finally entered the room, last in the long line. They each took a seat and almost to the number, they filled the chairs around the circumference of the room.

"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. I have for your approval, one of the latest creations from CyberSTX, one of our recent investment opportunities in Hongkong." A small round of polite applause arose from the guests and Penny felt a wave of nausea swept through her gut, more from the rich food than the embarrassment, she guessed. This humiliation was nothing new.

Resigned to her task as a display for an obvious financial ploy, Penny relaxed her stance and allowed 'Reggie' to lift and prod, open and explain her unique appearance.

"These models are now readily available for purchase, but I am very interested in matching any offers of financial investment in this incredible venture." Reginald implored.

"I only want to know when I can purchase her." A female voice projected over the buzz in the room. Penny recognized the woman from a few days before, when she had been sure of seeing Allison.

"Marga, Marga." Reginald mused. "I believe I made myself clear during our telephone conversation."

"You haven't even entertained my offer, Reg. Hear me out." Marga insisted. She stepped forward, moving beside Penny, and running a seductive hand up Penny's thigh. "I have to tell you something, Reginald. I've suffered a loss today as a trusted employee has misplaced two of my most treasured playthings."

Penny's ears perked, as she knew that she must surely be speaking of Allison. Had she escaped her captivity? She could not help but allow a smile to spread over her face, but quickly squelched it with a disapproving glance from the woman.

"Surely you will get them back." Reginald offered.

"There is no trace. I am quite devastated." Marga pouted.

"I am sorry, Marga. Perhaps... and only because I have known you for so very long, I might consider a loan." Reginald placed his hand on the small of Penny's back, urging her forward and giving Marga a more advantageous view.

"A loan, with future options?" Marga urged.

"Take her, then. But, do be careful with my property, Marga. She is not easily damaged, but it is not impossible." A thought crossed Reginald's mind and he held up a finger. "Do you have space for her container? She will not do well without it, you know."

"I'll clear a spot in the cellar." Marga smirked, knowing that Reggie knew all too well what the place was like. "It shouldn't take long."

"Then I'll have Penelope and the container delivered..."

"Tomorrow will be splendid." She finished.

"Tomorrow it is." Reginald led Penny away by the elbow, striking up a conversation with a man who had been anxious to speak for quite a few minutes.

The room the consulate had provided was not particularly lavish. In fact, it was rather spartan, but it certainly beat spending the night under an eve in a Cardiff alleyway. The woman at the reception desk had been a bit shocked at first, especially after they removed their hats.

Spending almost half of what they had remaining on the trains to get there was a risk, but they really had no choice. As it was, their accommodations were free, and they had even been afforded a meal, and the guarantee of asylum, as long as was necessary; until the entire debacle had been sorted. Allison had given them as much information about herself as she could remember, including her social security number and a set of fingerprints they insisted on. A photo was also taken, not that she resembled her old self in the slightest. She hoped it would be enough.

The following day, two British NCA agents arrived at the consulate. It certainly wasn't unexpected. As was explained by the detective, the NCA is the British equivalent of the FBI. Even though Asha was hesitant to speak to the police, Allison gave an account of how they ended up in their current predicament. The last thing Allison wanted was for there to be any repercussions that might incriminate Asha, so she conveniently omitted the fact that she had actually been Asha's slave, before she was Marga's.

What Allison did not omit however, was Penelope Crosset's involvement in her sale and subsequent abduction from the United States. They seemed far less interested in Asha's story, which was a good thing.

"We will be in touch with this Marga character. For the time being, you should stay within the confines of the consulate, as you are undocumented." The one agent insisted.

"What about my friend?" Allison asked, reticently.

"The same, although I cannot speak for the consulate. Their views on harboring a foreign national might not be as favorable as you might expect." They nodded to the two women and left as unceremoniously as they had arrived.

Just as Asha and Allison were about to relax, another knock on the door startled them. The receptionist that had first greeted them at the consulate was standing there, a small stack of papers in her hand.

"Is this you?" She held out a printout with a variety of images, from her high school photo to a scan of her drivers' license.

"Yes, it is." Allison beamed.

"That is good, because your fingerprints match." The young woman assured.

"I don't remember ever having my fingerprints taken, except by you." Allison puzzled.

"Something about a college prank. Does that sound familiar?" The woman asked.

"Oh, my god. I forgot all about that. Ginny Petersen and the sorority hazing." Allison remembered.

"Indecent exposure, I think were the charges. Looks like they were dropped." The woman chuckled.

"Yes, they were." Allison heard some giggling behind her, Asha obviously amused over something so embarrassing in her lover's past.

"Well, be thankful for being caught that day, as it has secured you a passport." From under the pile of papers, the woman produced a small blue book. "Welcome back, Ms. Knight."

Allison opened the blue booklet, the photo they had taken inside the cover, bald head and all. "God, I look awful." She sighed. "The thing is, I have never had a passport in my life."

"Well, you'll need one to get back home, which is something I suggest you do as soon as you can secure a ticket." The woman warned. Allison looked puzzled. "You see, we can reestablish your identity Ms. Knight, but we cannot pay your way back home. That you will have to accomplish on your own.

"But..."

"We are sorry, Allison, but we have at least given you a way to get back to your life." The woman turned as she left. "You are welcome to stay another night, but I'm afraid we cannot extend our welcome beyond that."

"Go home, Allison." Asha insisted, placing her hand on her cheek.

"Not without you, Asha. No way!" Allison pulled Asha into an embrace. "Not without you."

"I have to call my parents." Allison turned for the door. "We need money, and we need to be there when the police arrest Marga."

"But why?" Asha asked.

"So we can get your papers back."

Marga was thrilled as the six by ten-foot container was rolled into the large outside entrance to her cellar. "Marvelous!" She exclaimed as the two brutes from the transport service positioned the gleaming metal box into position. She knew that her prize was inside, and she could hardly wait for the two men to leave so she could enjoy it.

Before leaving the one man handed her an envelope. "The bloke, he sent the box; he told me to give it you." The man uttered in full-on Cockney.

Marga took the package at arms-length, shooing the men away with a back-hand wave. Obviously offended, the men left, muttering under their breath. Marga heard nothing they had said, too excited to open the container. She laid the package to the side and pulled at the door. It didn't budge. Again, she pulled, but the door remained sealed tightly.

Frustrated, she eyed the package and wondered if there was a key. Upon opening the manila envelope, all Marga found was a small silver remote. There were five buttons on the face, but none were labelled. "Typical of Reggie to send me a toy, but with no way to use it." She griped under her breath.

One button, larger than the rest, and at the top of the remote caught her eye. Raising an eyebrow, she pressed it eagerly.

"Madame, there are two policemen at the door." One of the male servants had interrupted.

"Police?" Marga swallowed. She had not heard the door to the container click open, her attention fully on the man standing behind her employee.

To be concluded...