Chapter 11

Carol leaned forwards in her chair, "Are you suggesting that you'd pay me to kill someone?" she asked in shocked tones.

"Well, not me directly, you understand... but we do have some rich clients with unusual tastes. They pay us to arrange certain events for them and we would pass on a bonus to you."

"You'd want me to kill someone..."

"A young female," Ilyama interjected. "Not even a specific person... just someone we would obtain from off the streets... a cheap prostitute or drug user or a young woman travelling to London to escape an unhappy home life."

"And..."

"And how much? You are so deliciously predictable, Miss Hargreaves. A thousand pounds, cash in hand."

"But..."

"But what about the possible consequences? We will promise not to take photographs of you doing the deed, Miss Hargreaves..."

Carol's blood ran cold upon hearing this - just what did the inscrutable bastard know?

"... and remember that were you to go to jail, so would everyone else involved. It would be in no-ones interest to... erm... shop, is that the expression? To shop you. And since we are talking about an apparently motiveless killing, you will remain unconnected to the victim and thus be safe... and, besides, we would dispose of the body most carefully."

"In that case, Mr Ilyama, I think we have a deal."

"I am so pleased, Miss Hargreaves. It will all take a few days to arrange but we have a client waiting expectantly. Now that we have you, it will only take a short time to set up the rest and then we will be ready to go..."

When Carol arrived home in the early hours she was surprised to hear the sound of her television playing though her front door. 'Could have sworn I turned that off, ' she thought as she unlocked the door and walked in... only to discover Nancy sitting on her sofa with her feet up and a can of chilled lager in hand. "Hiya, love," the rotund off duty policewoman called out cheerfully.

"Wh... wh... what you doing here?" Carol spluttered.

Nancy smiled back mischievously. "Oh come on! Don't be so naive - I've come to get laid, why else would I be here."

"No, what I actually meant was how the fuck did you get in here? I don't recall giving you a key!"

Fishing into her blouse pocket, Nancy pulled out a credit card. "My flexible friend," she answered with a grin. "That and your cheap, crappy lock. You should get yourself a better one..."

Exasperated, Carol moved towards the sofa while Nancy swung her feet to the floor. As Carol sat down, Nancy handed her a can of lager. "Tough day at the office?"

"More time on my feet than my back, it that's what you're thinking. What's this you're watching anyway?"

"'Dublin Dames With Double D Cups' I think its called. The Vice Squad's got cupboards full of filth like this as well as videos on just about every fetish you can think of. Everyone borrows them. I just love watching these women pretending to be lesbians for men to jerk off over. I just wish they'd make more gay films for gay people."

Carol put her can down onto the floor and snuggled closely into Nancy's amble bosom. "Now don't you get comfortable, young lady," the policewoman said sternly, "It's your turn to fuck me tonight, remember... and I hope you've learned your lessons well?"

"Yes, mistress, I have," Carol replied as she stood up and turned towards the bedroom, her fingers with her neatly manicured nails already unbuttoning her blouse...

Inspector Ian Smythe sat at his breakfast table dressed in only his dressing gown and carpet slippers reading his morning paper Sipping his coffee, he felt relaxed and contented. True, he had a minor problem on the horizon in the form of a pregnant mistress but, for today at least, he was determined to push that to the back of his mind for he fully intended to relax and to enjoy his first full day off in several weeks. In the kitchen, his wife was busy loading the washing machine when she heard a heavy thump from the hall indicating that the morning mail had arrived. "I'll get it," she called knowing full well how tired her husband was. 'But at least it means that he is not demanding sex from me every second night, ' she added to herself as a relieved after thought.

Scanning the mail as it sat on the doormat, she immediately spotted the large jiffy bag nestling alongside two bills and a handful of circulars. Bending down she picked up the thick brown envelope and was pleasantly surprised to notice that it was addressed to her. Ripping the tab open, she spilled the contents out over the hallway table. Puzzled, she paused for before her was a used pair of women's knickers, a handful of glossy 10 X 8 inch photographs and an audio tape...

Carol had spent a very uncomfortable night following a failure to please Nancy. The overweight WPC had proved to be both demanding and insatiable so that when, after an hour of licking, sucking and teasing, Carol had failed to bring her lover to the required number of orgasms, Nancy had propped herself up and had told Carol that she was now going to be punished for her failure. At first Carol had thought that the other woman had been kidding and had allowed herself to be tied up in a somewhat uncomfortable position that consisted of a rope holding her upper thighs together and then a second wrapped around her ankles. Nancy had then used a third rope to join the previous two sections together so that Carol was trapped in a kneeling posture. Nancy then dragged Carol over the the wardrobe where she'd first looped a rope over the hanging rail before using it to hoist Carol up off the floor and had whipped the captive girl's wrists together. As a gag was then added, Carol started to panic. Pivoting slowly round, she had pleaded with her eyes to be freed but Nancy had just smiled, winked and told her that she'd call round again in the afternoon to free her captive unless Carol called her on her mobile and left a message. The bitch had then closed the door, shutting an increasingly uncomfortable Carol in the darkness. Know that she would have to help herself, Carol had started to writhe about as much as she could, thanking her stars that Nancy had, at least, removed all the clothes from the wardrobe before putting her in it. After an hour or so of periodic bouncing up and down and from side to side, Carol had heard the first sounds of splintering wood and had thanked her lucky stars that she lived in a council built flat and not something made with proper materials. After another fifteen minutes or so, the wood had finally given way dumping Carol onto the floor. Edging forward, she had pushed the door open and had managed to slide off the rail and back out into the room.

So now she was still hog tied and gagged and still basically up the Khibar without a Pass but, she thought to herself as she lay there, at least progress had been made. Now she had only three headaches to deal with - one was to get herself free, the second was a growing ache in her bladder while the third was that she was rapidly getting turned on by her own predicament!

Lifting her hands up to her face, Carol pulled the gag out of her mouth before she studied the knots holding her wrists together. After figuring out which strand needed to be pulled, she tried to tug at it with her teeth... and found that the rope was tougher than her incisors! Thinking that she might be able to get free if she could only reach the kitchen with it's supply of utensils, Carol tried to crawl along like some sort of bloated slug... and while she did make some progress, it was slow and difficult work. Finally she settled upon the simple expedient of rolling over and over in order to make progress toward the kitchen door. After every few turns, however, she had to pause and correct her direction. And this all took time and with every moment that passed, the ache in her bladder grew more intense.

Finally Carol managed to enter the kitchen and, for the first time in awhile, she smiled for Nancy had been kind enough to whip the bread knife to the back of one of the kitchen chairs with it's cutting edge pointing upwards. With her wrists tied before her, Carol thought, it would be a relatively easy matter to cut herself free... if only she could stop herself from jigging about so much in a feeble attempt to ease the pressure on her waterworks. Concentrating hard, Carol placed the ropes holding her wrists together onto the cutting edge of the blade and began to saw back and forth. "Shit!" she cursed under her breath as the cheap and shoddily made blade bent and flexed first one way and then the other. "Next time I'll buy better quality knives!" she swore to herself as she continued to work frantically away at releasing herself.

It wasn't easy work for Carol's mind kept drifting away from what she was doing with the knife and settling on her problems of bodily control. Eventually, however, and with only minimal blood loss, the ropes separated and Carol's hands were freed. "Terrific!" she thought, "Toilet here I come!" And then she realised that she couldn't use the knife to cut her legs free because the damned thing was still whipped to the chair; the only thing to do was to move to the kitchen drawer and get out another knife. Gathering her strength for one last determined effort, Carol finally realised that she simply wasn't going to make it before having an 'accident'. Knowing that the end was now inevitable, she concluded that it would be best to let go now and to struggle with the last rope in relative comfort at least. A decision reached, Carol released her muscles from the knots she'd kept them in and, as her pee started to gush out, she closed her eyes and enjoyed the feeling of contentment that rushed over her. "At least I'm not wearing jeans this time," she thought as the pool of piss spread out over the linoleum kitchen floor.

Now that she'd sorted that physical need out, Carol set to work on the next - getting herself free. This proved relatively easy, if time consuming, and as the last rope fell away and the blood started to rush back to her feet, Carol grimaced and rubbed her aching limbs. Once she'd returned to normality (if sitting on a pee soaked kitchen floor at seven o'clock in the morning while stark naked could ever be called 'normality') she staggered off to her bedroom and set about dealing with the third and final physical need on Carol's list - having a good play with herself! 'Now, where the hell did I put that vibrator... ?' she thought, reaching out towards her bedside cabinet...

Buried in his newspaper, Ian hadn't actually noticed just how long his wife had been away until he heard her entering the breakfast room again. "Any more coffee, pet?" he asked waving his cup around in the air with his right hand, his head still hidden behind the Times

"No, darling, but I've got something even better for you..." his wife purred seductively at him. Puzzled for the old prude never talked like that, Ian folded his paper and put it down on the table before him, then glanced up... and did a double take for there was his wife, the most conservative woman he knew, stood in the middle of the room wearing only a small and lacy pair of knickers. "Like them?" she asked, snapping the elastic of the waistband.

"I certainly do!" he replied enthusiastically, giving her his full attention.

She moved slowly towards him swaying her hips seductively, with one hand hidden enticingly behind her back, hinted at hidden pleasures yet to come while the other hand cupped her own breast, her thumb gently stoking at the dark, stiff nipple.

'Whatever's got into the old bag?' Ian wondered as he watched the performance with growing interest. Part of him wished that the woman approaching him were a few years younger and just a tad better looking but another part of him didn't care and that part now put in an appearance as it peeked out through the join of his gown, testing the air.

By now his wife had reached his side. She knelt a little and blew gently into his ear sending a shiver down his spin. Quietly she whispered to him to untie the cord of his dressing gown and Ian rushed eagerly to obey. With the cord unknoted, both sides of the gown fell away fully revealing his cock, erect now, standing proud and ready for action.

His wife smiled, stood and moved to stand before him. Then, in a fraction of a second, the smile was replaced by a visage full of fury and her hand appeared from behind her back revealing a kettle with the lid removed. Then, like lightening, she moved and pour the contents of the kettle into he husband's lap and groin. The boiling water made contact with Ian's defenceless skin. For a second Ian looked down at himself as his skin cracked and blistered... and then he started to scream. The stream of water ran out and Ian now clutched at himself as he slide off the chair to fall in a heap on the floor. Through tear filled eyes, he watched as his wife calmly remove her knickers before tossing then down at his side. "Give those back to your black whore," she said in a voice full of venom, "and tell her that I'm not going to give you a divorce. That baby can die a bastard for all I care!"

Between sobs of agony, Ian managed a convulsed, "Why?"

His wife vanished, then returned. She dropped the photographs to the floor before her husband's shocked eyes... and then played a cassette back to him and Ian knew that he was condemned to a life in purgatory from now on. Finally his mobile phone landed on the pile before him "You'd best call yourself an ambulance. I'm going out shopping. Don't expect to have much of available balance left on the credit cards by the time I'm finished!"

Nancy was just placing her street clothing into her locker in the female changing room of the police station when her mobile rang playing, appropriately enough for the occasion, The Striper. Smiling, she glanced at the display and was not at all surprised in the least to see that it was Carol calling her. Pressing the answer button, she cheerfully enquired, "Got free then?"

"Eventually, yes," came Carol's slightly distorted voice.

"I'm so pleased. Enjoy your punishment?"

"Certainly... you do have a way with you," Carol responded, "But I just thought I'd mention that I really enjoyed myself afterwards with my pet vibrator and, once I've finished this call, I'm off to sleep. What are you doing?"