Rating
Chapter 6 "The Devil and Ms Fisher"
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Someone knocked on the door. I stiffened at the noise -- now was the
prime time for visitors, both expected and unexpected. Sandra gasped
as I moved off her, but she was all screamed out. She didn't even try
to resist as I gagged her with a practiced motion.
I went to the window and glanced outside, expecting to see some nosy
neighbor or maybe a school friend of Becky's. Instead, there was
Kitten in a pair of white overalls and a baseball cap rocking on her
heels. Quickly I went into the hall and opened the door.
She smiled. "Someone order an exterminator?"
"Cute," I said. "You took your time."
"An hour and twenty minutes, including picking up this nifty
disguise," she said, moving through the house like a whirlwind.
"Yeah, OK," I said, getting down to business, "One in here, one in
there, two upstairs. The younger kid's got some kind of problem,
seems to have a mental age of five or six. We've kept them
blindfolded since we got here except for the kid. We've left her free
and we wore masks around her. Where's Doc?"
"Be here in about an hour. He didn't trust my helicopter flying."
"You fly choppers?"
She shrugged. "Doesn't everybody?"
I shook my head. Smug bitch.
Meanwhile, Kitten went into the living room and checked on Sandra,
noting her damp pussy and the discarded rubber. "We have been busy,
haven't we?" Reaching over the woman's body, she tightened Sandra's
gag, then pulled out a pair of handcuffs from a overall pocket. The
cuffs were used to secure the helpless woman's feet.
We checked quickly on Myra, then I led Kitten upstairs. Inside the
oldest girl's bedroom, JoJo's face was covered in Becky's juices.
Becky herself was begging for release behind her gag.
"My, you *have* been busy," Kitten said, impressed. "Planning a
double header, were you? Mother and daughter?"
"Whatever happened to _Master?_" I moaned. "You called me Master
yesterday."
Kitten looked at me, and actually blushed. "You're sweet, Charlie,
but we both know it's just a courtesy title. Doc is my only master.
Besides, since yesterday *you* have been my slave in waiting, and I
figure until that's resolved, it makes us equal."
Leaving me to splutter over that, she climbed onto the bed and removed
the bandage and tape from Becky's lips, pulling the sodden sponge
free. "Hello, slave," she said crisply.
"W. . .who are you," Becky gasped.
"You may call me Mistress, and the only thing that you need to know
right now is that I decide when or if you cum."
"Oh pleeeeease. . ." Becky begged. At that moment, she would have
sold her soul to cum and Kitten knew it. Smiling an evil feline
smile, Kitten played with her victim.
"You call that begging?" she scoffed. "If you want to cum, I'm sure
you can do better than that."
"Please. . .please, oh please, let me cum." I winced a little at
lost opportunities. The girl was so needful; if Kitten had been just
a little later, Becky would've begged me to fuck her.
As it was, she was begging Kitten. "Please what?" Kitten demanded.
"P. . .please, Mistress. L. . .let me cum!"
"Better," Kitten said, nodding. Reaching into her pocket she pulled
out another of Doc's gags which she forced into the girl's unresisting
mouth, then padlocked it in place. She turned to JoJo. "Finish her
off, then untie her and help her downstairs. She isn't to remove the
blindfold. Understand?"
"Yes Mistress."
"Good girl." Kitten turned to me, "Right. Let's get this thing under
control, shall we?" She stripped out of the overalls to reveal a
nicely tailored business suit. Even after Sandra, I found myself
getting hard again. I suppose I've liked a woman who can power dress
since the Marines.
We started to clean up, disposing of anything that linked us to the
place. Ray, another recruiter I'd worked with from time to time,
appeared at the door with a large tank on wheels. It had a giant
roach on the side and I figured it was part of their exterminator
cover.
"What's this?" I asked, tapping on the tank.
"Slave transporter, so we can take them out without being spotted,"
Kitten said from behind me. "Give me a hand." Between us, we took
the lid off and she showed me the padded interior. There was just
about enough room for a body inside.
It took some effort, but eventually we managed to cram Myra into the
tank. I watched as Ray wheeled her to the van, then took Kitten to
one side. "Look, can't we just leave the rest of them tied up or
something? Do we HAVE to recruit them?"
She arched one perfect eyebrow. "Do I see a twinge of conscience?
The suggestion that you might just let two prime recruits go?"
I looked uncomfortable. "Well. . ."
"These people are a security risk, Charlie. You must see that. I
admit I feel sorry for the little girl, but I'm afraid your two naked
playmates have got to go."
By now, JoJo was leading Becky downstairs. The girl seemed drained
and unresisting. JoJo had already fastened Becky's hands behind her
with the leather cuffs, so after forcing her down onto the couch with
her mother we only needed to cuff her ankles. The two Fisher women
squirmed, aware of each other's presence. The smell of sweat and damp
pussy clung to naked flesh, making it very clear what had happened to
each of them.
Then Doc arrived. Compared to the whirlwind that was Kitten, he
appeared almost subtly, dressed in a business suit with an overcoat,
this silver hair and beard impeccably groomed. He looked for all the
world like someone's rich grandfather. "Ah, Charles, my boy," he
said, almost cheerfully.
I winced. A whole day of maintaining cover, blown like that.
Silently I indicated the two naked women tied on the couch.
"Ah, yes, this must be the delightful Ms. Sandra Fisher and her
daughter Rebecca." He said it as if they had just been introduced at
the Queen's garden party. The girls wiggled a little and Sandra tried
to say something.
Doc looked up at me in disapproval. "Charles, where are your manners?
Free these young ladies at once. Kitten, I assume that there are
suitable clothes somewhere in the house?" She nodded. "Then please
get some, straight away."
I looked at Kitten but she just shrugged as she headed upstairs on her
errand. I helped Doc free the Fishers.
Sandra blinked against the sudden burst of light after her blindfold
was removed for the first time in hours. Seeing Doc, she tried to
cover herself.
He held up a hand. "Please, my dear young lady, do not trouble
yourself. I can assure you that you have nothing to be ashamed of."
Somehow, this conforted her. "Wh. . .who are you?" she choked.
He tsked. "Mouth a little dry? Charles, get these two young ladies a
drink."
I ducked into the kitchen, locating some cans of pop in the
refrigerator, and brought them back with me. Sandra and Becky took
them eagerly, gulping at the cold drinks.
Doc smiled over them in avuncular mode. "Now, down to business. My
friends call me Doc, and I'm sorry to say that this young ruffian
works for me. So you see, any inconvenience that he has caused you is
entirely my fault. Please accept my apologies."
They both frowned, eyeing Doc doubtfully, but perked up when Kitten
appeared a few minutes later with some clothes. Despite the fact that
I'd seen them both naked (hell, I made them strip in the first place),
Doc made me look away as they got dressed. Sandra was starting to
feel a little more secure with her clothes on, a feeling Doc shattered
a moment latter.
"Rebecca my dear, please go with my assistant here and do as she
says," he instructed Becky. "She will need your help with your
sister."
Sandra sat bolt upright. "Amy! My God, where's Amy?"
"Upstairs asleep," I told her. "She's having a little nap."
Doc smiled. "Indeed. Now, Sandra, we must take your daughters away
for a while. Not long, I assure you. While they are gone I'm sure
that I can count on your complete cooperation."
"If I don't you'll hurt my girls!" Sandra wailed, close to hysteria
now.
"Nonsense." Doc gave her a hard look, a look that scares even me. "I
won't lie to you, Sandra. I could take your daughters and ensure that
they spend the rest of their lives giving blow jobs in a Mexican
brothel. It is perfectly possible for me and my associates to erase
your family without trace and ensure that no one will ever look for
you. I could do all that and worse, but I won't. The reason that
your daughters must leave is that I am expecting a group of armed men
to attack this house later tonight. Those men have been told to kill
everyone inside and to hunt down any survivors. I believe that I have
taken all necessary precautions, but why risk your daughter's lives?
Two of my men will transport them to your sister's in Maine and leave
them with her."
Sandra was stunned.
"You see, Sandra, the reason my young friend was forced to detain you
this morning is that he and the two young ladies were running for
their lives," Doc explained. "These men have already killed an
associate of mine, a friend for over thirty years, a faithful husband,
a loving grandfather. A man who served your country well through some
of its darkest hours. When you get to my age, it seems that you spend
most of your days attending funerals. Usually you can look back and
say that at least the chap had a good innings, but in this case my
friend had a good few overs left to play. I feel a righteous
indignation that can only be soothed by a most terrible revenge. Ah,
here's the tea. Kitten, will you be mother?"
Kitten poured the tea and I watched Sandra's face. Thirty minutes ago
she'd been tied up on a couch getting (I hope) the best fucking of her
life. Now she was trying to come to terms with this. "So. . .who
are you?" she asked. "The government?
"It would be safe to say that we have all worked for your government
from time to time, but not at the moment. At least not in an
_official_ capacity," Doc said, winking. "In this case, it is my
belief that your government will find itself well served by our modest
efforts here today."
"But these men--"
"I would like you to stay and assist us in this matter," Doc said,
overriding her. "If you wish, there is still time to take you to your
sister's with the children. However, if you stay, then my
organization is willing to pay you the sum of one hundred and thirty
seven thousand, seven hundred and thirty one dollars. In case you are
not aware of it, that is the outstanding balance on the mortgage for
this house."
"But how--"
"I know a lot about you, Sandra." Doc smiled at her. "I know about
your husband Gerard, how the stress of raising a child with Amy's
special needs broke up your marriage. I even spoke with Dr. Linz not
an hour ago about young Amy's condition. I realize that since the
divorce you have been making caretaker payments on the mortgage,
paying the interest only, and I realize that even that takes nearly
two thirds of your available income. What I offer is a way out of the
poverty trap for you and your daughters. All you have to do is assist
my associates and keep quiet about ALL that happened here today."
"And the men?"
The smile turned cold. "We intend to kill them, Sandra. Make no
mistake, if you stay you will be an accessory to that act. Punishable
by the full weight of the law."
I could see her considering his offer, but the result was a foregone
conclusion. If what Doc said was true, she and her daughters would be
out on the streets within a year. He was offering her a way out and
all he wanted in return was a part of her soul.
She looked up, and swallowed. "What do you want me to do?"
.... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
. . .
Sandra moaned into her gag as I thrust in. This time there was even
more of a thrill, probably because we both realized this could be our
last fuck ever. It hadn't been easy for Sandra to allow herself to be
tied up again, especially knowing the dangers. It would mean that she
would be almost completely helpless when it happened.
Doc had explained his plans and made his preparations but now it was
down to us.
I thrust in again. She was definitely making the best of a bad job in
any case. They say danger is an aphrodisiac and Sandra was certainly
hot tonight. She was on her second orgasm and I was building nicely
towards mine when I suddenly saw her lust-filled eyes open with alarm.
Then I heard a click next to my ear.
"So, Charles, isn't it? I must say you fellows take your work
seriously. Do you just walk around tying up every woman you meet?"
The Yuppie's voice was still as irritating as ever.
"S. . .something like that," I said, and came. After all, there was
no point in wasting it.
"Put your hands on your head and stand up." He tried to sound bored,
like he did this sort of thing every day, but it came out as a nervous
whine. His eyes became fixed on the naked woman and I knew that I
could take him then and there. But that wasn't in the plan. With
some regrets I stood and put my hands on my head as directed. He
nodded me towards the kitchen, then he reached down and dragged Sandra
to her feet.
"I must say you led us quite a chase," he said equitably. "Toby will
be so glad we found you. When he gets out of the hospital, that is."
"How is Toby?" I asked, keeping my voice friendly, as if we were
chatting about an old college buddy.
"As well as a man with two crushed legs can be."
"Ouch. I hope you'll tell him it was nothing personal," I said. By
now we were in the hall. As arranged, Sandra kept falling back,
forcing him to keep pushing her forward. I moved a little ahead. The
idiot was a banker, not a gunman, and I hoped he didn't realize what
we were doing. His eyes kept sliding over Sandra's naked body, down
her flanks to her freshly shaved pussy. I saw the bulge in his
trousers, evidence of his distraction. Sandra, bless her heart,
wiggled her hips as she walked, dragging his attention back to her
crotch with every move. I glanced at her and caught the look in her
eye. There was fear there, and the faint suggestion of panic, but
there was also a grim determination holding everything in check. I
began to feel more confident.
"How did you find us, by the way?" I asked, still sounding chatty.
"You must realize that my people will be here soon."
He laughed. "Oh, I don't think so. Want to know why?" He pushed me
forwards, giving me an extra impetus that carried me even further from
him. The Yuppie Bitch Queen and two men stood in the kitchen. Sat in
a chair, hands cuffed and mouth taped over, was Alison.
"Shit!" I said, appalled.
The Yuppie smiled. "Your message was still on her machine when we
arrived. She hadn't made it home, you see, because we decided to have
a chat with her first." He tilted her face up and I could see the
bruises. "As you can tell, she wasn't very cooperative. If you
hadn't called the silly bitch, we wouldn't have found you."
I gritted my teeth together. "All right. What do you want?"
"Joanne, and especially that little tart Myra. I've got to pay that
little bitch back."
"Then what?"
He shrugged. "No witnesses, nothing to connect us with any of this."
He turned to the goons. "You two look for them."
They found JoJo bound and gagged in the den and pushed her through to
the kitchen. The Yuppie Bitch Queen licked her lips. "I don't
suppose we have time for a quickie, do we, darling? Joanne has such a
wonderful technique -- it would be a shame to miss out."
The Yuppie chuckled indulgently. "Perhaps later, after I've dealt
with Myra." He looked Sandra over, lips pursed in consideration.
"Tell me, _Charles,_ how well does your new toy suck dick?"
"Not still painful then?" I asked innocently.
He scowled, ignoring me. "Don't worry. I'm sure we'll find out, as I
think we and the ladies will have a bit of a party before we leave.
Unfortunately, as you ruined our last one, you won't be invited."
"I could go and get the beer?" I offered. Through the kitchen door,
I could see the two goons dragging Myra downstairs. She was kicking
and making gagged noises from beneath a pillowcase I'd used as a hood.
"I don't suppose you're going to tell me what all this is about?" I
asked, stalling for time.
"Like in the movies?" Yuppie Man shook his head. "Real life isn't
like that, I'm afraid. All you need to know is that you fucked with
the wrong people, and now you're going to pay."
Myra was pushed into the room. Being blindfolded, she staggered a
bit, finally coming to rest against the far wall. One of the goons
walked over and pulled off the pillowcase. They were expecting Myra,
so of course they were disappointed.
"Peekaboo," Kitten said.
The goon was stunned. A second later, he was dead. Kitten's hand
flew up, the heel striking the man's nose at a lethally precise angle.
On cue, Sandra threw herself to one side, crushing the Yuppie's gun
arm against the door frame. Desperately, he tried to push the naked
woman away. Realizing that she was literally fighting for her life,
Sandra held. He hit her with his free hand and in return I hit him,
hard. Meanwhile, the second goon was so confused having seen "Myra"
turn out to be another woman, and that woman then kill his partner,
that he froze for a long moment. Just about the time he started
thinking again, Ken opened the garage door and shot him with a
silenced 38.
"What the--" the Yuppie Bitch Queen started to say, but Ken shoved the
barrel of his gun into her mouth. She whimpered and kept quiet, while
I started freeing the women.
Doc came in all smiles, as if he were some theatrical producer after a
first night. "My dear children, what a wonderful success! Sandra, my
dear, a wonderful performance, Kitten as outstanding as ever. And
Alison--" He went over to where Alison was rubbing her wrists. "My
dear we couldn't have done it without you. The risk involved--"
"They killed Sam, Doc," she said, her tone flat and lifeless. "My
Sam. What was I supposed to do after that? If they killed me, so
what?"
Doc's tone harded a little. "Now, don't start talking like that. Sam
wouldn't like it." I knew why -- it was a common syndrome with slaves
dedicated to one master that they frequently became listless, even
suicidal, when the man died.
I looked over at the pain slave, suddenly inspired. "Alison, I spoke
to Connie. She'd like to meet you, perhaps have you over to stay--"
Alison blinked. "Connie? Really?"
"She told me so herself. I think she really wants to meet you. And
that way, you could meet Sam's kids, too."
This seemed to cheer her somewhat, especially the idea of meeting
Sam's kids for the first time. I didn't say anything, but Sam's
eldest was about Alison's age and shared some of his father's
"interests." Perhaps there were some possibilities there. Doc gave
me an approving look.
In the meantime, Kitten had started handcuffing the Yuppie couple.
JoJo put the kettle on for tea, and Ken and his partner Ray were
outside seeing if there were any more baddies out there. A few
minutes later, Sandra was wearing clothes again and the "Exterminator"
had dealt with the dead bodies. The Yuppie couple, however, were the
center of attention, taped to kitchen chairs.
"Okay, we're cool, and we have these two wackos tied up," I jerked a
thumb at the Yuppies. "Now, can someone please tell me what in the
wide world of sports is going on here?"
Doc gave Sandra a funny look, then said, "It all started a couple of
months ago, when you were in London. Sam came to me with a
commission. Apparently, a woman named Myra McTaggart who worked for a
well known New York bank had been found with her fingers in the till.
As I explained before, she had blackmailed the bank into dropping the
issue by threatening to damage their reputation. Sam said that the
bank's directors wanted a special revenge, and could we process her
straight away?"
"You told me this before," I said. "And the story has more holes than
the Titanic."
"Just so, but Sam had received his request from an excellent source, a
VP of the bank." Doc looked at the Yuppie. "And said VP was about to
marry the bank president's daughter." Doc glanced at the Yuppie Bitch
Queen.
"So we picked Myra up, and of course we were _very_ interested in
discovering just where she had hidden the money. She seemed strangely
reluctant to talk, despite Kitten's persuasions. While we were
pondering this, Sam got a second request. Apparently Myra's PA was
asking unfortunate questions and threatening to go to the police.
Obviously she couldn't remain at liberty. So of course we picked her
up, too. Even before she arrived at my place, however, this strange
request about a weird lesbian show had been passed to Sam. When I
received it, my curiousity was piqued and I had Sam do some checking.
Of course, when I actually saw the girl, my suspicions were
confirmed."
"Why?" I asked.
"Because, Charles, Joanne is my goddaughter."
My mind boggled. Who in their right mind would make Doc their kid's
godfather?
It must have been on my face, because Doc explained, "You see, I met
her grandfather whilst I was working on a project call MKULTRA, just
after the war. He was in military intelligence, like Sam.
"Years later, when Joanne was born he came to me and asked if I could
help her. You see, she had learning problems and he thought our
research might offer the possibility of a cure. I helped her, of
course, and over the years we've kept in touch, so when she was
delivered to my place it was really a bit of a shock. We discussed
matters amongst ourselves and realized what must have really happened.
You see, Myra had suspected that the Bank was being used to do illegal
fund transfers, and had started an investigation. She gave Joanne the
job of researching the banks files to find an audit trail. They
discovered that whoever was doing all of this must be on the board, as
only they had the authority for certain transfers. Myra needed the
help of the bank's president in order to get the power she needed to
audit further. As the president was hard to reach, she decided to go
via his daughter and told her the whole story. The daughter agreed to
help, but the price was most unusual. It turns out that the daughter
was not quite the pure maiden she led most people to believe, and
there would be a sexual price Myra would have to pay to get to her
father. Myra refused, and even made the mistake of suggesting that
Daddy would not be pleased when he found out about his precious's
little peccadillos.
"Up until then, Myra had been discreet about her investigation. Then
suddenly, our man gets word on what she's doing. He sets up a chain
of evidence, a classic embezzlement scheme pointing to Myra, to cover
the deficiencies in the books. Then he had us pick her up."
"Why not just kill her?"
He tut-tutted. "Charles, dear boy, this is an unstarched white collar
criminal; he can't stand up for himself, much less do his own dirty
work. He realized that if Myra disappeared, the blame would be placed
on her. He moved in the kinds of circles most our clients do and had
heard whispers about my operation. Besides, Myra was hunting him; it
had become personal. The advantage of using us to do his dirty work
for him is that afterwards, he and his lover could use her as their
personal toy." He shrugged. "In short, it was about power -- his
ability to take hers away. I think he moved on impluse and it was
only later after Myra had been picked up that he realized that the
real threat was Joanne.
"By the time Joanne and I worked this out, Myra was in a critical
condition. If we took it further, she would be permanently destroyed.
So we decided to keep her disoriented and teach her a few tricks. We
had a plan, but it would require Joanne to do a number of unsavory
things." He gave his goddaughter a sympathetic look. "We tried, but
she simply couldn't do it. So finally she agreed to the creation of a
shell personality, something temporary that would sit on top of her
own persona for a few days and would be able to do what was needed.
And that's how JoJo was born. She was given a special set of
instructions and keyed to you personally."
I scratched my head. "Then why did you have me treat her as hostile?"
He smiled. "Myra was, dear boy. Remember, these people had never met
one of my slaves before. If you treated JoJo differently, they may
have started to pay her more attention."
I nodded. As always, Doc had thought of everything.
He continued, "My plan was to deliver the slaves as agreed and to
catch our VP in the act, so to speak. Unfortunately, two things went
wrong. First, our VP got word that Sam was asking questions. He
realized that if he killed Sam, the girls and whoever delivered them,
there would be nothing to connect any of this together. So he hired
some muscle from one of the more disreputable executive protection
agencies and had the time of the party moved forward. He and his
lover planned a night of the long knives, to get you all on the same
night. They picked Sam up while you were on the road and we didn't
know he was dead until it was too late.
"The second thing to go wrong was that you arrived too early. I'd
made arrangements to have some of our people there for backup. A
couple of slaves had been prepared to be found in a compromising
position with our VP. All was set, but then you went in early. . ."
I winced. "Why didn't you tell me?"
"It had to look natural. He wasn't to suspect until it was too late.
We had thought he would come alone, that we could take him stick him
in bed with a couple of whores and threaten to send the pictures to
his prospective father-in-law." He looked over at the Bitch Queen,
and a corner of his mouth quirked. "Of course, we never thought that
his fiancee would turn out to be such a shameless hedonist. I was
shocked when I realized -- after all, they are such a good family.
"When things went wrong, all I could think about was that you'd kill
the slaves as we'd agreed. Then I discovered Sam was dead and it
became very personal." Doc turned grim. "When you called, I was with
Alison. I realized immediately that if they didn't have you, we still
stood a chance. Alison agreed to be bait. You see, to protect his
family Sam never used his own ID when in New York. He worked from a
small office and none of his clients knew his real name. As they
killed him before you slipped through their fingers, the police report
suggested that they made no attempt to get any information from him.
It seemed reasonable therefore that once they lost you, the only link
they'd have would be the office. I arranged that Alison would go over
and deliberately get caught, if you like. Then, when they went to her
place to follow up, they would find the message I had you record."
It all fit together. "So Myra and Joanne are going to be
deprogrammed?"
"Joanne is, of course." He sighed. "I would have liked to have kept
Myra, but Joanne is attached to her, so I suppose we'll have to fix
her."
"How will you explain her being away for so long?"
"That's simple," Kitten said, perkily. "We usually make them think
that they've been abducted by aliens."
I stared at her. "Aliens? Them? Who's _Them?_"
Doc rolled his eyes. "I'm afraid our little Kitten is becoming a bit
of a practical joker. I'll explain later."
Just then, Ray and Ken came back. Ken looked grim. "They had a van
around the side. Two guys. We disposed of them," he reported.
"Very good, dear boy." Doc tapped his chin thoughtfully. "You had
better use the van to dispose of the bodies. Remember, use the crack
powder sparingly, just enough to leave a trace. We want the police to
find a drug connection, but don't leave enough to make them too
suspicious. After all, they're not stupid, just slow."
JoJo handed out the tea as the guys started to clean up the stains on
the kitchen floor. Doc turned to Sandra. "So, my dear, you know a
little more about us now," he said calmly.
"Y. . .you're white slavers?" she asked, still trying to come to
terms with it all.
Doc looked shocked. "I assure you, madam, we have no color
preferences. Besides, 'White Slaver' is such a Victorian term. It
conjures images of virtuous white women at the mercy of dirty Arabs.
Oh, no, we're nothing like that."
A look of horror spread across her face. "My God -- you have my
daughters--"
Doc shook his head. "Your sister in Maine has your daughters, flown
there by private plane. I think Amy will be thrilled. Has she ever
flown in a small plane before?"
Sandra shook her head, still horrified.
"Wonderful child, Amy. Dr. Linz and I spoke about her case at
length. She has Prosov's Syndrome, I believe?"
"Yes, but--"
"Brilliant man, Prosov," Doc mused. "Told really wonderful dirty
jokes. Stalin had him purged, you know. Too independent." He
paused. "Sandra, my organization has lost a valued member and a good
friend. While no one can replace Sam, his death has left an opening
in our corporate structure that I feel you can fill."
"Me? Kidnap girls and--" She stalled, then swallowed hard and stared
at him. I had to admire her guts. "How do you think I could do
something like that? I'm a mother--"
Doc smiled. "I think you can do it precisely because you are a mother
and because you want the best for your daughters. The house is yours
as we agreed, the bank will confirm that the mortgage has been paid.
That is payment for your work tonight and for keeping silent on the
things that happened today. Remember, as far as the courts are
concerned you are an accessory to two murders, so keeping things quiet
is in all our interests." Her jaw tightened, but she didn't say
anything. "If you accept my offer, we will set you up in a business
of your choosing. Real Estate seems promising -- we will buy you a
franchise which will make you the senior partner. As it grows, it
will generate more than enough income to keep Amy and Rebecca in
private school and pay for college. You'll also have enough free time
to look after our other business. Don't worry -- we will train you
and provide suitable staff."
"I. . .but--"
He held up a hand. "Please, you haven't heard the most substantial
part of my offer. You see, I knew Prosov quite well. We collaborated
before his government intervened, as we were both interested in the
same things -- the structures of the mind and the mechanics of
learning. I can offer you something no one else can ever offer you."
He leaned closer, his voice low and luring. "I can cure Amy. I can
get her mental age back to her physical age in less than six months.
Push her IQ back to normal and perhaps beyond."
Sandra's mouth worked silently. It had to be the biggest temptation
she'd ever faced. "They said it's incurable. . ." she said
hesitantly.
Doc laughed. "They also said that man would never fly, that the Earth
was flat, that if a man traveled at over thirty miles an hour air
pressure would crush him," he said, chuckling. "Here, I'll prove it
to you. Kitten?" He waved her over. "Sandra, do you perchance have
a calculator? Ah, good -- would you get it, please."
Still disbelieving, Sandra dug a small solar-powered calculator out of
a kitchen drawer. "Now what?"
"It's quite simple. Think of a sum, any sum, as many numbers as you
like, then tell it to Kitten."
Sandra gave Kitten a look that barely hinted at hope. "What's 273,159
divided by. . .I don't know. . .123?"
"2220 point 804 how many decimals did you want?" Kitten said smugly.
Sandra tried it three more times. In all cases the limiting factor
was her calculator as Kitten gave more decimals than she could verify.
Doc patted Kitten approvingly. "This is a relatively simple trick.
Kitten also has a perfect memory, perfect pitch....."
"I'm just generally perfect," Kitten said with a cheerful little
shrug. For once, she even appeared to be a normal eighteen year old
kid, reveling in the attention.
Doc flashed Sandra a dark look. "Six months -- that's just enough
time for you to set up your business. If you can't see an improvement
before then, you can keep the business with my blessing and forget
about us. If Amy improves, then you work for me. Believe me, your
conscience is not as big a problem as you believe."
She chewed on her lip. "And what if Amy improves and I don't work for
you? What if I cheat?"
"Oh, you won't. If I really thought you were the type of person who
would run out on a deal, then I wouldn't be making you the offer.
Believe me, my dear lady, we are not monsters and we are not cheats.
Our line of work requires courage and honesty."
Sandra stared at us, her face reflecting the conflict she obviously
felt. White slavers, murderers. . .and the saviors of her daughter.
"Agreed, then?" Doc pressed.
She took a deep breath, closed her eyes and nodded. "Agreed."
He clapped his hands. "Excellent! And now, I must ask you to do one
ceremonial duty to celebrate our new arrangement."
He handed Sandra a padded gag and pointed as the Yuppie Bitch Queen.
YBQ saw what was coming and tried to move her head away, but Kitten
stopped her.
"Gag that slave," Doc ordered.
Sandra reached forward and pushed the penis mouthpiece into the
Queen's mouth, then tightened the straps.
A cheer went up and a deal was made.
And it only cost one soul.
THE END