Natalie's Tale Ch. 01

This is a story based on the experiences of a friend.

That Friday night Natalie stopped in front of the mirror in the hallway of her apartment. She asked herself if she looked too sluttish, appraising the tight black cocktail dress, which barely covered the tops of black stockings, and was sheer enough to reveal the hard points of her nipples. Extraordinarily expensive high-heeled Italian shoes showed off her fine legs to their very best. Her long blonde hair was tied in an elaborate bun on the back of her head, accentuating her slender neck and showing off the platinum and diamond choker necklace. She wore hardly any make-up- she was still tanned from a summer on the Cap Ferrat. Too late to change now anyway, she thought, locking the door behind her.

She accepted the lavish praise of the elderly doorman, and not altogether inadvertently gave him a brief glimpse up her dress as she got into the cab waiting for her in the quiet leafy avenue in Paris’ fashionable Seizieme.

“So who is the lucky monsieur?” the cab driver asked her when she had given him directions to a restaurant in Saint Germain. She looked up surprised. He was a middle aged man, dark haired, faintly Arabic looking, with dark, almost back eyes boring into hers reflected in the mirror. His voice was deep with a slight accent. He was extremely handsome, but with a definite hint of cruelty in his eyes.

“I am having dinner with an old friend tonight, not that it is any of your business” she replied, snapping open her mobile phone to bring the small talk to an immediate halt. She picked up her messages and resolutely refused to meet the driver’s eyes in the rear-view mirror.

The truth was there was no lucky Monsieur in Natalie’s life. She had had a series of short-lived relationships since leaving school. Her parents, ensconced in the family’s chateau hundreds of miles from Paris, occasionally tried to set her up with what they thought were suitable aristocratic men, and warned that they would not provide her with the apartment and generous allowance indefinitely. She knew that was not true- her parents doted on her, even more since her elder brother and only sibling had married an American and gone to live in the suburbs of Dallas- a move akin to moving to the depths of hell as far as Natalie and her family were concerned.

Tonight she was having dinner with Yvette, a school friend and her closest confidante. Natalie had not seen her since June when she left for her usual eight weeks sunning herself at her father’s villa on the Cap. Yvette had always made Natalie feel rather drab and unattractive when they were at school. Natalie was undoubtedly a very pretty girl, and her body was toned and tanned to near perfection, but by common agreement, Yvette was stunning. Natalie often joked that she could find Yvette in a crowd by following the gaze of all the men-and most of the women. Sure enough when she entered the restaurant, there was Yvette, bright blue eyes sparkling with laughter, long blonde hair halfway down her back, surrounded by a crowd of waiters all apparently with nothing better to do than ask the Madamemoiselle if she would like another slice of lemon in her mineral water. Natalie and Yvette embraced and kissed each other on each cheek. Natalie noted that Yvette was wearing last year’s dress, and a tired pair of shoes she had given her- and yet made the whole ensemble look astonishing.

Over dinner the two friends caught up on each other’s news. Yvette told Natalie about an affair she had had with a politician that summer which had ended in an embarrassing scene when his wife had caught them in bed. Natalie laughed at Yvette’s indignation that she had had to leave her underwear behind when making a hasty exit.

“But it was my La Perla- the set you bought me for Christmas.” she pouted.

“Well, that sounds like an excellent excuse to go shopping tomorrow,” Natalie replied.

They drank a bottle of very good Chablis with dinner and because neither drank very often were both a little flushed and a little louder than usual as they made their way to a nearby basement bar which was an established haunt for the rich and beautiful.

More drinks followed, and by midnight they were both drunk.

“Come and stay at mine,” Natalie said when Yvette complained about the boring nurse she shared her own apartment with. “We’re going shopping together tomorrow anyway.”

“That calls for another drink,” said Yvette, leaning in and giving Natalie a thank you kiss.

It was three in the morning when they made their way unsteadily up onto the street. Natalie had taken the precaution of calling her local cab firm to send a car for them. The driver met them at the top of the steps from the bar, picking up Natalie’s handbag from the pavement where she had dropped it, and then helped them into the back of the car. They slumped down in the back of the cab, giggling helplessly. It was not until they were halfway back to the apartment that Natalie recognised the driver as the same man who had driven her earlier that evening. She met his gaze in the mirror, almost accidentally as they sat waiting at a set of lights.

“Isn’t he gorgeous?” Yvette asked, far too loudly.

Natalie blushed and looked away. Yvette started giggling and it was infectious. Before long both of them were in drunken hysterics.

“Gorgeous… I think he’s a…God! An Egyptian God…” Yvette said trying to sound serious. “Excuse me, monsieur, are you Egyptian? Descended from a Pharaoh perhaps?” she asked the driver before collapsing across Natalie’s lap with laughter.

Natalie looked out the window and frowned, trying to clear the alcoholic fog. This did not look right…They passed through another set of traffic lights and she saw a woman in a tiny mini skirt, thigh high boots and a bra, leaning down towards her window, heavily made up face, cigarette in hand; a prostitute, she thought her mind slowly realising…this is the Bois de Boulogne.

“Where the fuck do you think you’re going asshole?” she said. This prompted new gales of laughter from Yvette. “He’s taking us to his pyramid,” she screamed, tears streaming down her face.

“Where the fuck…” Natalie started again.

“Silence,” said the driver in a deep, firm voice. To punctuate his point he activated the door locks and switched off the electric windows in the rear seats.

Natalie reached for her bag and her mobile phone.

“Looking for this, madamemoiselle?” said the driver.

Natalie lunged for the bag he held in his right hand, steering with his left.

“Give me that you fuck.”

But he swung it out of reach, and then turned the car at speed into a side road. Natalie and Yvette were thrown into a heap in the space behind the front passenger seat, Yvette still giggling.

The car came to a halt. The driver turned off the engine and turned to face them.

“Now, you stuck up little bitches are going to pay for this ride.”

“Listen you asshole, I’ll have you arrested and …”

“Lets just see shall we?” the driver said, opening her handbag. He rummaged around, and then said: “I thought so,” holding up a small wrap of paper. “Cocaine, I think,” he said looking at Natalie. Her silence confirmed it.

“Oooh goody, lets have some,” said Yvette before dissolving into hysterics.

“Yvette…this is serious, stop it,” Natalie hissed.

“Yes,” said the driver, “it is. I used to be a cop and can arrange some really serious problems for you, madamemoiselle…Lajou,” he read from her ID card. “You asked me to drive you to the Bois de Boulogne, bought something from a prostitute and then, what? Accused me of raping you, maybe? Those are serious offences, and I think I know who the police would believe.”

Natalie knew her parents would forgive most things but anything to do with drugs was a step too far. Trouble with the police was something she needed to avoid. She had been arrested when she was caught smoking a joint at school and had managed to keep that from her parents. But if this asshole called the police now she would never be able to keep it a secret- she’d be lucky to escape a prison sentence. Her father would be humiliated and furious. He would stop her allowance and make her go home. He might even make her get a job.

“What do you want?” she said looking at him with defiant hatred, but trembling with fear.

He handed her a pair of shiny steel handcuffs.

“Put these on your friend and fix her to this,” he said lifting a loop of the seatbelt.

Natalie complied. The driver pushed her handbag into the glove box of the car. As it opened she saw the butt of a revolver. She suddenly felt sick and scared. He took a couple of items out of the glove box she couldn’t quite identify and then got out of the car. He opened her door and told her to get out.

“Look, I’m sorry- I know I was rude earlier and we’ve been idiots tonight but, please.”

“Too late. I said you’re going to pay, both of you, and you are. I am sick of driving stuck up bitches like you around.”

He went to the rear of the car and opened the luggage compartment. For a horrible moment she thought he was going to make her get in it but instead he pulled out a blanket and threw it onto the ground.

“Get on all fours,” he said.

“You’re fucking joking.” she said, backing away.

He grabbed her by the arm: “Listen very carefully. I will hurt you if you do not do exactly as I say. Run away and I kill your friend. And remember I know where you live. I bet that cocaine is not the only illegal thing you have…I can have the police round at your apartment before you could get to a phone and do anything about it. Understand?”

Natalie nodded dumbly, tears began rolling down her cheeks.

“My name is Gaston, but you will call me ‘Sir’. Understand?”

“Yes…Sir” said Natalie, suddenly just hoping that this nightmare would just end and she would wake up in her beautiful apartment and go shopping for lingerie with Yvette.

“On all fours-now.”

Natalie got down onto the rug. Gaston knelt in front of her, so that her face was level with his crotch. He unzipped his flies and pulled out his thick and semi erect penis. He held it up and slapped her face with it.

“Open wide, bitch. And if I so much as feel you even thinking about biting I’ll hurt you –badly.”

She opened her mouth and he leant in to her, pushing his cock into her mouth. Mindful of his threat she strained to keep her mouth wide open. He began fucking her mouth, holding her hair roughly.

“Jesus-Natalie…” Yvette had moved herself until she was lying across the back seat, in spite of the handcuffs. She was looking out of the open rear door at Natalie and the driver who were in the pool of illumination from the cars interior light.

“Your turn is next,” Gaston grunted, continuing to work his cock in her mouth.

Yvette seemed not to really grasp what was happening, she just continued to watch, mesmerised by the sight of her friend sucking the driver’s cock.

He was not even fully erect, but already Natalie could barely fit the head into her mouth. She lifted one hand to hold the base of it, to try and prevent him thrusting so deep into her throat. He pulled away from her and again smacked her face with his cock.

“Fucking hell,” Yvette said, “that thing is huge…I think he really is a God Natalie.”

“Shut up Yvette,” Natalie said, before her mouth was again stuffed full of him.

She felt his hands on her bare back, felt him reach down until he was stroking her buttocks through the silk dress. He lifted the hem of the dress and hitched it up onto her back. Natalie felt cool night air on her bottom and his rough hands moving over her skin, and then under the waistband of the black silk g string, circling and kneading the firm muscles of her backside. She had slowed the motion of her mouth, tensing at the feeling of his hands on her.

“I did not tell you to stop,” he said.

He grabbed her by the hair, leaving the dress lifted onto her back, exposing her, making her feel totally vulnerable. This was the Bois de Boulogne; it was the middle of a pitch-black night. There were prostitutes, their clients, pimps, police and god knows who else out there in the dark.

He pulled his cock out of her mouth again and slapped her face with it several times. He was fully hard now and she could hardly believe the size of it. She could not get her hand around the shaft, and the bulbous head was the size of a small apple. Her jaw ached from trying to accommodate it. He lifted it onto his stomach-it was long enough that it reached his belly button.

“Lick my balls,” he ordered, and without even hesitating she obeyed, lapping gently at each in turn. He moaned gently as Natalie took one ball into her mouth humming gently- a trick she had learnt from an American stock market millionaire she had dated briefly a year before. She had decided the best thing to do was make this bastard come as soon as she could and get this ordeal over.

“Look up,” he said, and without removing her mouth from his scrotum she obeyed. The flash of a camera blinded her. He forced his cock back into her mouth and photographed her again, before pocketing the small digital camera.

“Your father is the Comte de Nitres isn’t he?” the driver said, holding the back of her head firmly and gradually forcing his cock into her throat. She gagged and retched but he did not relent. Tears streamed from her eyes and her mouth flooded with saliva. Her throat spasmed again, and just when she though she would vomit he eased out of her.

“Well, isn’t he?”

“Yes,” she gasped, trying to catch her breath. The bastard must have recognised her from the society columns of the papers.

“I wonder what he’ll make of these pictures of his pretty little daughter sucking an Arab cock.”

“You fucking shit…” but Natalie’s words were cut off as he forced the immense head of his cock back into her mouth.

Suddenly she felt something slide around her neck, something cool and metallic-a chain of some sort. She struggled, afraid, but it was too late. She heard a metallic click and then again he pulled his cock out of her, and stood, at the same time yanking her up with the chain collar he had padlocked around her neck. He pulled her over to the car and padlocked the end of the chain leash attached to the collar to the car’s door handle.

Yvette was groggy with alcohol, and seemed confused as he undid the handcuffs securing her to the rear seat of the car. He pulled her out onto the blanket, and with a savage motion ripped her dress off her. Yvette sobered up fast.

“What the…”

“Listen to me Yvette. Do exactly as I say or you and your friend are in big, big trouble. You tell her Natalie- tell her to do what I want.”

“No you bastard- I won’t…I’ll scream and someone will hear.” Her defiance was undermined by the fact that Yvette stood in her underwear- cream silk camisole knickers and a matching bra, trying to cover herself with the remnants of her torn dress.

Gaston fastened one of the handcuffs onto the chain attaching Natalie to the car, and grabbed Yvette’s wrist and fastened the other cuff onto her. He walked around to the other side of the car.

“Yvette-this guy is serious. He has a gun…I think w should do as he says.”

“Nat- this is rape- he just raped you…Let us go right now you bastard,” Yvette shouted at the top of her voice.

Gaston reappeared. His cock still hung out of his open trousers. His shirt was open revealing a well-muscled and very hairy chest and stomach. He had Natalie’s mobile phone in his hand.

“Ok, do it your way. Now I call the police and we see what happens to little Madamemoiselle Cocaine fiend here. As for you, I’ll tell them you’re a hooker who tried to steal my wallet.”

Natalie spoke urgently to her friend. She begged her to do what he said, not to let the police be involved.

“I’ll lose everything,” she sobbed, finally.

“But he’s bluffing- he would not dare call the police-he’d get arrested for what he just did to you.”

“Look at us, Yvette- look where we are…can I take that risk?”

“It is not a risk. This bastard has done enough already…Hey, you asshole, let us go now and we’ll forget the whole thing happened. If not we go to the police and you are fucked.”

“Oh really?” said Gaston, smiling. He tucked his cock back into his trousers. Then he dialled a number and looked at them both as it rang.

“Is Sergeant Grimand on duty tonight? Yes, I’ll hold.”

“This is a bad idea, Yvette,” Natalie said.

“Bonsoir, Alain. It is Gaston here…fine thanks, and you?…And Madame Grimand? Excellent…Yes, I would be delighted to…listen, Alain, I need a favour. Who have you got in the Boise tonight?”

He spoke for five minutes, walking away from the two frightened women out of earshot. Yvette started pulling at the chain, trying to break the door handle or the padlocks, but it was hopeless.

“Give me a hair clip,” she asked Natalie, “I’ve opened handcuffs with one before.”

She was still working on the lock when the driver appeared out of the darkness.

“You won’t get those open that way,” he said with a grim smile. “These are not toys-they are police issue…speaking of the police…”

He turned as car headlights lit up the scene. A police car pulled up next to them.

“Help us!” Yvette shouted. “This man is trying to rape us.”

Gaston went over to the driver’s window and spoke to the driver. They talked for a while Yvette yelled and shouted.

The passenger door of the police car opened and a uniformed policeman stepped out. He was in his forties, thick around the midriff, balding, but tall and imposing.

“Quiet please, madamemoiselle,” he said in a soft but very firm voice.

“What the fuck are you doing? This bastard…”

“Quiet. Now,” he repeated.

Yvette complied.

The other policeman- also a middle-aged man, but shorter and slighter in build, with a shaved head- had got out and he and Gaston approached the two women.

“I am Sergeant Dupris,” said the tall policeman, this is Constable Joinel. I understand you two are in possession of controlled substances- namely cocaine, and have subjected this gentleman to racial abuse. Is this true?”

“No fucking way,” said Yvette. Natalie remained silent, and put a hand on Yvette’s arm, trying to make her quiet.

“Well, you are both lucky girls. Because this gentleman is a friend of ours we will comply with his request to let this matter drop. For now. However, if he was to call us again you will both be arrested and you will both be charged with drug offences. You will also both be charged with resisting arrest and you,” he gestured at Yvette, “will be charged as a prostitute and will be taken straight to the Tank at the twentieth district station with all the other crack whores and hooker scum. Believe me after 48 hours there you will plead guilty to whatever we charge you with. Of course we will release both your names to the press- a Count’s daughter and her high society friend, turning tricks for drugs in the Bois…yes, a good story I think. Is this clear?”

“You fucking corrupt bastards!” Yvette shouted, enraged.

“Yvette, will you shut the fuck up,” hissed Natalie. “Do you want to be in Sunday’s newspapers? We’ll be ruined.”

“So what do you suggest?” Yvette said sulkily.

“We thank these kind police officers and respectfully ask that they guarantee our safety and anonymity if we do what this…gentleman requests.”

“Good,” said Sergeant Dupris. “Sensible of you, Madamemoiselle. We will make sure you are safe and no serious harm comes to either of you….Gaston, we will wait in the car. If you need anything just give us a shout.” He turned to Yvette and said: “One more insult or shout out of you and the deal is off-understood?”

Yvette nodded, tears streaming down her beautiful face.

The policemen got back into their car and reversed it a few yards away from the parked taxi. The headlights illuminated Gaston and the two women as if they were on a stage.