Sleeping Beauty

I look up to the imposing Warehouse situated next to the abandoned car park. The faded white numbers forty-four seeming at odds with the obviously renovated and modernised building. Internal lights suggest the presence of occupants, much to my chagrin of the location I had chosen.

The need for abandoning Lauren was not intentional but her disposal had been necessitated if not exacerbated by an online news story regarding a missing French student. While I was confident we could not be associated the attention of possessing such a commodity was not welcome. Not least given the contents already held amongst the basement at the bar. Already the news linked the missing Student to the disappearance of local nursery nurse, Georgina Ellois, who had been reported missing by her parents seven months earlier.

Therefore a little before 4am under cover of darkness I guide Lauren from the back of the van, she stands before me trembling against the chill of the night in her heels, the skirt she had worn on my discovering her at the bar is creased and dishevelled upon her hips, while her black leather jacket hangs open around her toro to reveal her exposed small pert breasts. A black pillow is case pulled unceremoniously down over her head obscuring one last sight of her perfect features.

"You remove that bag from your head only when you can't hear us" I order rather than request.

Her body shivering viciously now, she totters unsteadily in her heels as I release the brushed silver cuffs that clamp over her severely bruised wrists.

Over the past three days I had discovered much about Lauren Démodé, the university student from near Lyon who was studying Politics and History on a three-week exchange placement.. Her night out resulting in her trip to our bar had been the last stop at the end of a social evening organised to familiarise her integration within the study group she was assigned to during her sabbatical.

Evidentially Roger, whose silent alter ego now sat behind the steering wheel of the van had been her sponsor come lecturer. It was not without irony that I could not help but think the local university needed to be aware of their Professor of History's penchant for date rape drugs.

Slipping the cuffs into my jacket pocket I close the van doors as noisily as I had opened them as I step backwards away from her slender broken body.

I had gotten to know our captive, without disclosing any details about ourselves, Steve had been less interested in his manner of discovery.

No sooner am in through the passenger door than Steve is accelerating away.

Looking back at her in the reflection of the wing mirror as we drive away at speed I notice she dares not even reach for the pillowcase over her head. She had learned to become obedient, even in such a short space of time, but we had not come even close to breaking her spirit or resistance as she had been kept restrained in the bedroom for near enough seventy-two hours.

I had learned enough about Lauren, but none more so than how to ensure her shuddering climax nearly every time I used her perfect body. Not failing to elicit the explosive reaction of her properly manipulated body near enough every time I had laid hands on her slender frame.

Something Steve had failed to master.

"Pity we let her go" Steve bluntly surmises as we pass from the potholed road that runs out of the open wasteland onto a tarmac road that wraps around the Warehouse.

"And whys that?" I reply without little consideration as l light up a cigarette and drop the vans window a little.

"That mask I ordered online gets delivered tomorrow... bet she'd have looked fucking amazing in it."

I smirk as I blow a thick plume of smoke towards the open window.

"There'll be others Stevie...there'll be others... Oh I never told you... took a booking for a Hen Party for next Friday night...right classy sort called Hannah popped in earlier to reserve the bench table.... Legs for miles in tight fitting jeans."

"Hannah," Stevie dwells on what is little more than a name and a vulgar description of her true appearance.

"Ten other hens..." I offer snapping Stevie from his fixation, "...that's where the potential will be."

Although as we drive along deserted city streets even my mind cannot help but linger on how the pleasant face brunette's features would look contorted by the grip of an ecstatic climax.

I already have my next mark if Stevie is lucky I will share.