 |
|
|
||
| Reina | Back to O | Back to main page |
Collected by Djian
Reina
by Peterloaf©
"You won't like it you know." The man behind the desk says, twiddling his
thumbs behind his whiskey glass, his sad eyes watching hers. "You say you are
willing now, but when you get there you'll soon wish you could turn tail and
run."
"I understand perfectly Mr. Reynolds." Reina says, meeting his gaze with one
she hopes is as steady as his. "But as I won't be able to run away there won't
be a problem, now will there?"
"Not for me there won't." he says, snorting into his glass. "You are the one
who's selling herself into slavery."
"What time tomorrow am I supposed to be there?" Reina asks, taking a bracing
sip of the solicitor's single malt.
"Lord Benton likes to get his money's worth. You should be at his front gates
at 8 o'clock sharp tomorrow morning." Reynolds says, his sad eyes sweeping
down Reina's young body, seeing her, not as she is, looking like a pretty
young
half Chinese bank clark, dressed in a stylishly short skirt and matching bank
blazer, but nude, her slim young body writhing under his client's whip. "You
won't be needing any luggage. Your wardrobe and hygiene items, if any should
be required by his lordship, will be provided for you."
"And the money?" asks Reina, meeting his eyes and suppressing a shudder at the
thought of what she was doing.
"Sixty thousand pounds will be deposited in your bank in Geneva the moment you
enter Lord Benton's service. If he decides to keep you longer than the agreed
180 days he will make an additional offer at that time. You will be completely
free to accept or reject that extension of the contract."
Reina thinks about what she is doing. It is a scary thing, selling yourself
into slavery, even if it is only for a limited time. But she has no choice,
she has to do it, otherwise it will mean prison for her, and the sentence
would certainly be longer than six months.
Besides, deep down inside, her libido is telling her this might even be fun.
Reina meets the solicitor's eyes and says, "I will be there Mr. Reynolds. As
you know, I don't have a lot of options."
"Indeed," Reynolds said, "its either cover that check you put into Mrs.
Champot's account or go to prison, probably for several years."
Reina thinks about how she has gotten into this mess. Who would think a simple
good deed would turn out so horribly?
She'd been in a Piccadilly pub celebrating someone's birthday with several of
her co-workers when Johnny Dewit had come slithering his way into her life.
He'd been chatting up Cindy, one of her co-workers, over by the bar and she'd
brought him back to the table they'd commandeered. Introducing him to the
gang, she'd told everyone he worked in a bank as well and all bank clarks
needed to stick together. He'd been invited to join them and had repaid the
favor by ordering a round for everyone.
The first three things Reina noticed about Johnny were his masculine good
looks, his Devil may care attitude and his long, sensuous fingers.
Gazing at his hands as he was telling a funny story, she flashed on an after
lights out whisper-fest/bull session she'd been in a few years before,
remembering how one of the twelve year olds had been bragging about her sexual
sophistication.
Having been molested by her father, two older brothers, an uncle and the priest
she'd gone to for help, this girl was the only non virgin in the dorm room. A
fact in which she pretended to take great pride.
This night she was filling in her fellow inmates on the secrets of sex. The
young school girl had been almost poetic in her descriptions of the pleasures
she had enjoyed under her five "Lovers". She also mentioned that, in her wide
experience, the length of a man's "Thing" was proportional to the length of
his fingers.
Reina had had only one lover, a long fingered gardener's apprentice at the
convent who she'd talked into meeting her down in the tool shed after bed
check. There hadn't been much light, that first night, but she'd had plenty of
time to get acquainted with the size of his cock. Sneaking back into her bed
by the light of false dawn, she'd decided that, if they came any bigger than
that, she wouldn't be getting married. Later on she'd learned to find passion
in his fumbling, too quick, love making. She'd even begun teaching him how to
better satisfy her.
That's about when the affair had ended, quite painfully for her as it turned
out. They were discovered, one moonlit night, by the mother superior and two
of her largest, meanest nuns. On their way back to the convent the boy had
broken free, and had successfully made it, still naked, over the broken glass
topped convent wall, leaving Reina to the tender mercies of the Church of
England.
She never saw her apprentice again.
Now, at last she had found herself another long fingered man. Or at least
Cindy had found him.
She wondered if he would even notice her. Next to Cindy's big tits and drink
induced, easygoing nature, her slim body had so little to offer a man.
When the party started to break up she got up with the others, intending to go
home and feed her cat. Johnny, still sitting next to Cindy, reached out and
touched her hand, met her eyes and said, "Please, stay a little longer, I
wanted to ask you about something."
Cindy, by this time too drunk to pick up on the fact that she'd lost, had
laughed and ordered three more pints, calling out to the departing co-workers
that the night was young and that they were all party poopers.
When the others had all left, Cindy, Reina and Johnny had sat there, talking
away into the night, each of the women wishing the other would get lost.
Johnny was a great conversationalist, witty, bright, funny, listening so
intently that she'd several times found herself telling him far more about
herself than she'd ever intended. He'd had the same effect on Cindy, coaxing
personal stories from her as well as Reina.
Later on, after it was too late, she'd come to realize what he had been doing.
But that night she'd had a enough to drink that it had all seemed like
innocent flirting.
His eyes had flicked from one girl to the other, like a snake, picking out
which mouse to devour first. On one hand Cindy had the best (Biggest) tits,
displayed in fine fashion by her top three buttons being left undone the last
time she came back from the loo. But Reina's Eurasian beauty was more refined,
like a living porcelain doll, exquisite in her high cheek bones, almond shaped
eyes and slim, perfectly formed body.
Besides, Cindy was too tall for the plan he had in mind.
Over by the bar a drunk began getting shitty with the bar tender and while the
girls watched the bouncer earning his pay, Johnny's hand reached out and
emptied a small vial into Reina's stout.
When closing time had come, the three of them had walked out into the fog
together, it still not being clear which, if either, of the young women was
going home with Johnny.
Then, with a curse he noticed the police boot on his car, an old but perfectly
restored MG-A. "Oh shit, I knew I should have caught up on all those old
parking tickets!" he said, looking up and down the deserted street as if to
point out that there weren't going to be any taxi's out this late.
Cindy had been the first to offer to drive him home, but he'd somehow ended up
riding with Reina instead, using the excuse that he lived near where she did
and didn't want to be any more trouble than necessary.
Once the highly suspicious Cindy had gone, he'd said, "I thought we'd never
get rid of her."
"Why?" Reina had asked, staggering off toward her car.
"So that you and I can get to know one another better." he said, taking her
keys from her unresisting hand and opening her own passenger door for her.
By the time she suspected anything was wrong, the drug he'd slipped into her
last drink was taking full effect.
Feeling funny, she looked up at him and at last saw the snake in his eyes.
Then, like falling down a well, she passed from this world into another. A
dark world where there was much confusion and even more pain.
When she again found herself able to think, she was sitting under a table, her
head and hands sticking up through three holes cut into the table's expansion
boards. It was like being shut up in a set of stocks. She could not move.
She tried to kick her feet but they were held as well, in what felt like
leather straps attached out to two of the table's legs.
Twisting her neck within the tight grip of the planks, she caught sight of
Johnny, sitting at the table behind her, eating his breakfast of eggs and
saus.
She fought down the urge to be sick, trying to understand what had happened to
her.
Then she noticed she was completely naked and sudden understanding had come
crashing its way into her hangover. Johnny had drugged her with date rape,
taken her home and used her body like an inflatable sex doll. And worse, he
didn't seem to be done with her just yet.
"Licking her foul tasting, cum crusted lips she croaked. "Ok Johnny, you've
had your fun, now let me go, please?"
"No chance luv," had been his answer. That and a hand reaching under the table
to grip a nipple that seemed to have been run through a wringer while she was
out. "You are mine for the weekend so just you relax."
The more she gained in awareness the more her body hurt. Her vagina felt like
she'd taken on Manchester United, all in one go. Her anus felt like she'd been
raped with a hot iron, her bottom, breasts, belly and inner thighs all felt as
if they had been whipped with split bamboo.
The hand beneath the table continued to toy with her nipple, teasing it up to
a
painful, burning cone of unwanted sensation. Gripping her small breast he
squeezed, shooting flaming arrows of pain up into her brain stem.
Gritting her teeth, she said, "Let me go or I'll scream." Even as she made the
threat she understood it was going to do her no good. They were in some kind
of a cellar, windowless, dark and completely silent like an underground bank
vault, cut off from the outside world.
"Go ahead, I like screaming. It heightens the mood." he said around a last
mouthful of eggs.
Reina considered doing it, but decided to wait a little, needing more
information. "Where are we?" she asked, looking up at the vaulted,
soundproofed ceiling.
"We are in an old forgotten bomb shelter built by my grandfather during the
war. I have brought you here to extract some information." He said getting
down and crawling in under the table with her helpless body.
Reina felt his hands slipping down the insides of her thighs and fought
mightily to close her legs before he reached her pubes. The table creaked a
little but her legs remained wide open, serving her up to his caress as
efficiently as a doctor's stirrups. Feeling his fingers toying with her sore,
overused labia, she struggled against her bondage but gained no escape. The
table held her naked body helpless, open and undefended.
He found her clit, already swollen and tender from the previous night and
began to spank it, using two fingers and surprising force.
She began to struggle and scream. It did her no good, no good at all.
After a while he jerked out the support under her bottom and let her hang from
her wrists and neck for a few endless seconds as he slid his face in under her
and began to give her a mustache ride that soon had her head spinning.
She was in agony, but it was almost like it wasn't real. What was real was the
passion rising up through the pain. She fought it with her entire being but it
was flooding up within her like water coming up a storm drain. She gasped and
cried, struggling to withhold this, her most private thing, from this rapist,
struggling to save what little was left of her pride.
But fixed as she was there was no room for pride, no way she could resist. She
felt her passion rising, shutting down her higher brain functions, shutting
down her pride, leaving her nothing but a pussy in a trap, a thing to fuck, a
sex object suspended under a table waiting for her captor's cock to recover
from its all night orgy.
After a while she sensed him sliding in under her, bringing his now fully
recovered cock in under her suspended butt. She clenched her teeth, wishing
she had some in her vulva, as he worked his long skinny cock up into her
already well fucked pussy. She moaned as he entered her, trying her best to
deny him full access by clenching her love muscle. He only grunted in
satisfaction and said, "Now that's what I missed when I was fucking you last
night, Reina, that wonderful resistance. God, how good it feels when you
clench down like that."
Reina felt the pleasure, fought the pleasure, succumbed to the pleasure. She
began to come. She couldn't help it, she was trapped.
Later, when thinking had once again become a problem, Johnny began the
interrogation that was the real reason for his crimes to date. He sat down
directly in front of her, reached out and lightly touched her cheek, then
said,
"I want you to tell me your access code at the bank." Beneath the table his
bare toes began caressing her pussy, his long talented digits quickly getting
coated in his dripping cum.
"My access code?" Reina said, feeling his toes wiggling against the soreness
of her clit.
"Ya, the bleedin' ten digits that keep unauthorized people like me from
transferring funds." He said, the snake coming into his gaze once again. "You
are going to help me right a wrong."
"You're going to use my access code to embezzle funds?" Reina gasped, her body
still spasming from the very thorough fucking its just had.
"I am going to recover some money that was stolen from me." he said, putting a
laptop up on the table in front of her disembodied face
"If you know where it is, why don't you have the police recover it for you?"
"Because the people who took it from me were clever enough to make it look
like I'd lost it in a game of cards."
"But if you use my access code I will be sent to prison when the shortage is
discovered."
"Sorry luv, not my problem. Now, your problem is, if you don't tell me what I
want to know, I am prepared to fuck you and fuck with you until you do." He
said, his snake eyes injecting cold venom into her soul.
"Please, I don't want to go to prison." she'd cried, the horror of her
situation crashing into her like a freight train of serial disasters. She
began to fight the trap again, gaining nothing but making him fear for her
neck.
He gave her face a sharp slap to bring her out of her panic and said. Tell me
your access code and all this will be but a fading memory."
Tasting blood from her split lip, she tried to spit up into his face but
missed
because she couldn't move her head properly. He smiled coldly, using her
ripped off panties to wipe her bloody spittle off of the table top and saying,
"Perhaps a gag will teach you not to be so rude." Then the soiled panties were
being stuffed into her mouth, and taped in place with a pre-measured piece of
Nu-Skin he pulled from the table edge.
"Now, darling lets get back to business." He said, resuming his seat and
reaching out to take possession of her right hand where it stuck up though the
table top. "Using these ten pretty little fingers, one, two, three etcetera,
you will either give me your access code right now or I will make you wish you
had."
Defeated, wishing the number had more threes and eights in it, Reina began
giving him her access code, holding up one finger at a time until he had the
whole thing typed into his laptop. By the time she was done, she was sobbing
uncontrollably, her gushing tears running unchecked down her face, threatening
to block her nasal passages, cutting off her air supply.
Turning his laptop around on the table so she could see what he was doing, he
expertly transferred forty thousand pounds from a Mrs. Gloria Champot to a
numbered account in the Cayman islands.
"There, it is done." he whispered, typing in her authorizing access code and
watching as the transaction was confirmed.
"I only took back the forty grand that was taken from me, perhaps if you hurry
down Monday morning you can cover the shortage before the statements are
printed and Mrs. Champot finds out. Its only forty thousand quid, surely your
good name is worth more than that."
"Where am I supposed to get forty thousand quid?" she'd thought, remembering
her pitifully small bank balance.
The illegitimate daughter of a London docks prostitute and a Chinese sailor,
Reina has struggled up from the bottom of the trash bin where she'd been
found,
naked and abandoned, at the tender age of one month. Raised in an Anglican
convent, she'd had little experience of the evil that sometimes stalks the
world. Instead she had experienced the evil that sometime stalks the
cloistered halls of convents, the harsh punishments dolled out for every
infraction, the feel of the mother superior's light cane striking against her
bare bottom, cutting into her swollen, freshly fucked labia. And later, while
she remained fixed to the mother superior's caning bench, there had come the
tender, clearly sexual treating of her injuries by a young nun armed with a
can
of bag balm and no shame, no shame at all.
And now she was going to prison, probably for as much as ten years.
It was so unfair.
His business completed, Johnny shut the lid on his lap top and turned his
snake
eyes on his captive. "Well, I didn't expect you would give up so quickly. Now
we'll have some time to fool around, have us a little party."
He'd lied about letting her go, just as he'd lied about everything else. She
wasn't all that surprised.
* * *
It was a couple of hours before dawn on Monday morning when he finally did let
her go. By that time she was used up, drained of the last drop of her sexual
energy.
She'd had her hands tied together in front of her nude body, her elbows
cinched
together behind it, thus keeping her hands safely away from her gag and
blindfold tapes. Her breasts still encrusted with his dried on come tracks,
her pussy looking and feeling like an open wound, swollen and bruised, hanging
obscenely open, the come crust still wet in places between her thighs, she
staggered out into what felt like a garden, overgrown and gone wild, but with
a
smooth grass path beneath her feet.
Kept docile and quiet by the squares of Nu-Skin taped over her eyes and mouth,
she'd been led up out of the bomb shelter, staggering in utter exhaustion.
There, in the cold clammy fog that the British call summer, she was tethered
to
a dangling chain, hosed down with shockingly cold water and given both an
enema
and a douche, all cold, all done with brutal efficiency. Putting her into her
car's back seat and covering her shivering form with a blanket, he'd driven
off, whistling Waltzing Matilda in a self-satisfied way.
Back in her flat, he'd used his switch-blade to cut the link between her
elbows
and then walked out of her front door, saying not one thing.
After hearing the door slam and her car drive away she'd cautiously brought
her
bound hands up to her face and began trying to peel away the Nu-Skin that
covered her right eye, losing most of her long eyelashes in the process. Once
she could see, she staggered into her flat's tiny kitchenette and got a sharp
knife out of the drawer and began to saw at the ropes, working to get her
wrists free.
As he had hoped she would, she then ran into the bath to brush her teeth,
needing to get his taste out of her mouth more than she wanted the second rape
of a police investigation. She had been put through so much, she must be
forgiven for being stupid.
She knew the bank would be opening soon, she needed to get down there and try
to find a way to avoid her coming disgrace, arrest and imprisonment.
During the last forty-eight hours, in those rare times that Johnny had let her
think, she'd hatched a desperate plan.
Once, a couple of years ago, on holiday in Switzerland she'd won a small amount
of cash in a door prize drawing at the Lake Geneva resort where she'd been
staying. Being there on an all expenses paid trip, paid for by her employer,
she hadn't needed the money. And so, on a whim, she'd used her windfall to
open an account at a bank in Geneva. Somehow it made her feel more prosperous,
knowing she too had a secret numbered Swiss bank account, just like so many of
the bank's senior officers.
Now, she realized, she could write a draft on that Swiss account and it would
be several more days before the bank would find out about the theft from Mrs.
Champot. It was but a straw clutched in desperation, but it was all she could
think to do.
Taking a taxi down into the city, she had herself dropped off at the bank's
employee door. With horrible timing the taxi arrived just ahead of the senior
partner's Bentley. She tried to avoid speaking to him but was forced to when
he spoke to her. "Good morning, Ms Jones, you are here early this morning." he
said, noticing her darkly circled eyes, her haunted look of total exhaustion.
They got on to the lift and started up to the bank's office suite on the
building's seventy-third floor. "Are you feeling quite all right, Ms Jones,
you look a bit tired for a Monday morning."
"Yes sir, I'm fine. Its just that my stupid neighbor went away and let his dog
bark all weekend. I haven't slept since Thursday night But give me some
caffeine and I'll be good to gallop." she said, laughing to try and cover her
sudden terror.
"We're always glad to see such dedication in a young employee. It tells us we
are doing a good job of selecting staff. But if you haven't had proper sleep
for three nights, will you be able to do your job properly?" he asked, truly
concerned, watching her sway back and forth with near exhaustion.
"Just let me get some coffee into me and I'll be fine." she repeated, quickly
nearing the end of her rope.
"Well, if you want my advice, you should take a personal day, go to a nice
quiet hotel and get some sleep. Then you should find some way to deal with
that neighbor of yours." He said, walking away toward his office.
Staggering to her cubicle, Reina sat down and went to work. First she changed
her access code, then she began covering up the theft in a blizzard of funds
transactions that boiled down to the cashing of a forty thousand pound nsf
check. She then got up and headed for the door, intending to take that
personal day.
"Tell everyone I've come down with the flu." she said to the receptionist on
her way out. "Tell them I didn't want to infect everyone else and that I will
probably be out for the rest of the week."
Finding her car parked in the spot behind where she'd last seen Johnny's, the
keys under the seat where he'd said they would be, she drove home and fell
into bed.
When she awoke, fifteen hours later, she felt a little better. It was time to
find a more lasting solution.
It was over her breakfast that she finally realized how stupid she'd been. Had
she called the police last night, before she'd brushed her teeth, she would
have had proof that she had been kidnapped and forced to give Johnny her access
code. She would have had his DNA, pictures of the split lip, the rope marks
and other bruises, all kinds of evidence. Instead, in her confusion and
exhaustion she'd destroyed it all, giving Johnny a free ride and ensuring her
own destruction.
Now she was stuck. The fact that she came in early and tried to cover up the
crime made it look even more like she'd stolen the money. What could she do?
Where could she get forty thousand quid in two days?
Whom did she know who could give it to her? There was no-one. No-one at all.
Should she try and run for it? Fly off to South America and spend the rest of
her life looking back over her shoulder? Perhaps she could rob a bank, or the
mail train, or a whole bunch of McDonalds. How about knocking over a drug
dealer?
She thought about her plight and began to cry.
She was still crying when her phone rang, four hours later. Composing herself,
she picked it up and said, "Hello?"
"Reina?" had come over the wire. It was Johnny.
Reina jerked back from her phone as if afraid he could reach through the
instrument and kidnap her again.
"What do you want?" she said, her hatred dripping from every word.
"I wanted to know if you are all right." came to her disbelieving ear.
"The answer is NO, you bastard! I'm not all right. I've been drugged,
kidnapped, raped, tortured and ruined. Why would you, of all people, have to
ask?"
"Because I find I care about you." he said, the lie rolling off his tongue as
easy and glib as all the others.
"Listen, Johnny. I need that money back. I've covered it over for a couple of
days but soon the police are going to be coming for me."
"Sorry luv, can't help you there. I've already given it back to the orphans."
came his smug reply. "But I can put you on to a quick sixty grand if you'd
like."
"What?" Reina asked, confused.
"I know a bloke who'll give you sixty thousand pounds, plus room and board,
paid up front, for six months of your time."
"What would I have to do?" she asked, knowing it wouldn't be anything very
nice.
"Nothing you didn't do this weekend, luv." he said, a leering tone in his
voice. "And this bloke is a lot older than me, he won't fuck you half as much
as I did."
"You want me to sell myself?" she said, wanting to hang up but somehow unable
to do it.
"Its better than going to jail."
"What are you, some kind of a pimp?"
"I prefer talent scout and agent."
"The answer is NO, you bastard!" she screamed and slammed down the phone.
She sat there shaking in rage, looking at the phone with so much hatred that it
should have melted.
About ten minutes later she heard someone at her door and looked up just in
time to see a card being slid under it.
Grabbing a heavy brass candle stick as a weapon, she crept over and picked up
the card. It was a lawyer's business card. It read; Godfrey Reynolds,
Solicitor, a respectable address and a phone number. On the back was written;
Call him luv, its your only way out. Johnny.
And so here she is, about to sign a contract that will enslave her to a rich
old pervert she has never met for the next six months. She finds herself
getting sexually excited, and is glad she thought to wear a panty liner.