Molly

"Of course Antoine will get all the kudos, and will never disclose the source of his 'tip'. We don't want any of this rubbing off on me. But the lab is delighted with the twelve tabs I gave them; they're learning a lot. Fortunately my sources are also secret."

"So we're home and dry?"

"We are. And I've got a buyer for the house; which brings me to the last part of my plan. You've never liked our surname, have you?"

"I have not. You've no idea what school was like, being called Olivia Olsen. The other kids kept chanting 'Oo, oo.' It was childish, but still upsetting at the time."

"So change it."

"Can I do that?"

"You can. Legally, you can't change Olivia, but you can have any family name you like. Choose something we both like. Get your driving licence and passport altered. Next I'll make you a legal 'once in a lifetime gift' of the proceeds of our house sale. That'll be tax free and you can use it to buy yourself a house! My name won't be on the deeds."

"Wow!"

"A simple clause will mean you can't do anything dramatic like sell it, while your dear old dad is still alive and living with you."

"Of course I wouldn't!"

"Then it'll make it more difficult for a certain lady to find out where her ex-husband has gone."

"I wouldn't go as far as calling her lady!"

*** *** ***

"This is your new 'ome; only a few weeks until you go back to England."

The female guard managed to spit the word 'England' as if Vicky were being sent to live in a pig sty.

"And now I search you!" she said.

"What again; I was searched before I left Paris."

"You are a drug dealer. We search again." said the second woman.

They were in an interview room containing nothing but a metal table, screwed to the floor, and four metal chairs. As before, they placed a clamp in her mouth to keep it open; telling her it was to prevent her biting them. Uniforms for prisoners had been abolished in France and she was wearing one of two sets of clothes they'd taken from her case.

"You want to do this yourself?" asked the other guard. "Or we 'elp you and use the cuffs?"

"I'll do it." said Vicky.

"Take off your shirt and bra first."

She complied and thought one of the women was eyeing her breasts with something like lust. Sure enough she came and stood behind her.

"Put arms out."

Vicky hated this part. She had considerable underarm hair growth. They had refused her access to a razor. The guard behind her slid her hands from Vicky's wrists to her armpits; no gloves. Then reached round and squeezed her breasts. As if to confirm this was no normal search, she blatantly squeezed her nipples. The assault went on for for a full minute, making them hard. The other guard watched intently and smiled.

They both said 'Bien'.

"Now lift your skirt and bend over the table."

The lesbian guard squatted behind her and removed her shoes. She was gripped, none too gently, through her panties and she was fondled for another minute before they were removed. Now she heard the snap of latex gloves being donned. One woman pulled open her buttocks, revealing her anus and moist vagina. The other came round the table and held her head.

"I hear you are complaining a man searched you in Paris."

She nodded, unable to answer.

"It's not true. We will prove it."

Vicky realised this was a distraction. While one guard was in her face, she was sure the other had licked her. If she was going to be forced to have sex, she thought she might prefer it to be a man.

One woman vigorously explored her vagina and anus, the other remained by her head. Vicky was unaware there was a male guard watching from the doorway. He held his crotch as she was stretched once more for him. Then the second female guard came round to her face.

"Now this end."

Latexed fingers were thrust into her mouth. She gagged on her own juices, and worse.

"You see? Not a man with a condom inside you."

She dressed herself and was led to a small cell.

The man returned to the interview room as the six o'clock night shift came on.

"I have le Rohypnol; you put it in her evening meal, yes?"

The female guard took it and pocketed the fifty euros.

Twenty minutes after Vicky had eaten; she was feeling drowsy and disorientated. The cell door burst open.

"It's time for the search!" announced one of the women who entered.

"But I already ..."

"No paperwork here; we must do it again."

She was returned to the interview room and stripped of everything except her skirt. Then she was bent over the table as before. An ugly female face appeared next to hers.

"We don't clamp your mouth, if you promise no biting."

"I promise."

"You are a good girl."

Vicky suddenly felt very sleepy and was barely aware of what was happening

The male guard who had observed her first search so avidly, now entered. His gloved thumb shoved lubricant deep into her anus. It was soon removed while she was violently searched again with something larger. Vicky did not pay much attention to what was going on behind her; though it did feel more like anal sex than a strip search. She was more engrossed with the female guard who had lifted her head from the table. Their faces were touching and the woman seemed to be kissing her. She was vaguely aware of a soft voice whispering 'good girl' over and over. She had never been kissed by a woman before, and quite liked it. When the man had finished with her, he zipped up and left the room. At the door two more men were waiting. They each paid fifty euros.

"You have one hour; tomorrow, only be twentyfive euros"

*** *** ***

"So mum will be back in England next week."

"Yes, she'll be near enough to visit."

"Can I ask you something personal dad?"

"You can ask; I might not answer."

"Was the sex ok with mum, before all this kicked off?"

"Surprisingly it was better than ever. I don't know if it was just that time in her life when she felt more adventurous; or if the affair made her guilty and give me more. Either way, she isn't getting any at the moment."