The battered and bruised man was dragged into the chamber and thrown down before the throne. The Evil One spoke “Ah Davison!, how nice of you to join us”. “Please it was Cole’s fault” John Davison, begged. “You’ve greatly inconvenienced my plans. Now how am I going to get imported slave labour to undermine the common working scum of this country?” she asked. “Please, I can set up somewhere else and...”. “UNEMPLOYED!. You’re unemployed Davison. Take him to be ethnically cleansed!” the Evil One roared. “No no please...” Davison’s pleas were ignored as he was dragged by the black uniformed soldiers to his doom.

The case of the break-ins at Bristlingdown Manor had left me baffled. I had plenty of time to think as I walked the long tunnel leading from Davison’s airfield [JIMP#11] to quiet secluded woods nearby. This was how he got the slaves off the airfield without being seen. However, I concluded that this was just a red-herring designed to throw me off the trail of the real culprits. I needed a break from this.

So it was I found myself in London’s Eastend, stepping over the homeless and brushing off the beggars. I had been hired by Ian Bull, an “entrepreneur in the consumer retail business” (fish and chip shop to you and me!). He was slim, about 5’ 7” with boyish looks although he was in his late twenties. A weedy moustache graced his upper lip like a furry caterpillar in the style of World War I airmen.

His problem was his wife, Cindy. From the way he boasted I could tell that he a “Thatcherite” not thinking twice about who he trod upon in his greed. “Cindy was naturally attracted to me” he said “I was going places” (a golddigger?). He told me how they got married and had a kid. Then the Recession struck, like many businesses Ian’s was on the rocks. Cindy revealed that his best mate, Simon, was the real father and ran off with him. “I really went off the rails for a while then, but I bounced back and re-built my business.” he continued (yawn).

“One day whilst returning from a business meeting, I bumped into Cindy. Simon had dumped her and left her in a rundown B&B - what a git!. I offered to take her back and she jumped at the chance” he said (more likely saw another chance to milk Ian). “We’ve two more kids and are now very happy” he said. “So why hire me?” I asked. “I don’t know. Maybe it’s because she was unfaithful before. I’ve this strange nagging feeling she’s laughing at me behind my back. Find out if she’s seeing anyone”.

I thought I’d check around the market square to see what I could glean from the locals. They were a tight-lipped bunch, so I pretended to be an old friend of Simon’s visiting on the off-chance. “Don’t remember your face?” a big rugged man built like an out-building told me. “It was a long time ago” I replied. “Yeah? well Simon buggered off with Cindy Bull a few years back. A right slut that one. Heard he dumped her and buggered off to Yorkshire” I was told. “How did Ian take it?” I asked. “Nearly topped himself. Never laughed so much in years. Served the bastard right, no room for people like that around here”. “But he took her back didn’t he?” I said. “Yeah, right mug. Only two things that girl is interested in - spending money on new clothes and bonking - not necessarily with Ian!”.

I was walking around when I saw this blonde woman get out of a taxi with a plastic bag bearing the name of a top London fashion store. She was about 5’ 7” with a bit of a boyish build - a long broad back tapering to her waist and out again to her hips. She wore a long black leather coat to keep out the winter chill underneath which I could see long shapely calves sheathed in sheer black nylons ending in high heeled black shoes. She made her way into the local cafe, I decided to follow, getting turned on by the sexy slender diamonds of her calves which bunched and bulged as she walked.

In the cafe she removed and hung up her coat to reveal a tight white nylon mini dress which clung to her body like a film. The outline of her bra containing her moderate bust was visible with her nipples jutting out through the tight fabric. As she walked to the counter, her short tight dress clung to the tops of her thighs with every move she made. Her legs were long, full and shapely enhanced by the sheen of black nylons. She spoke to the woman behind the counter for a few minutes then I noticed her look in my direction. Taking her cup of tea and a sandwich, she went to sit at a table by the window.

I ordered a cup of tea and took my seat at a table. Suddenly Cindy walked across and sat opposite me. “So you’re a friend of Simon’s are you?” she asked in a soft husky voice. I looked at her and was captivated by her wide clear grey eyes, surrounded by black lashes and skilful use of eye-liner. “It was quite a while ago. I’ve got business in the area so I thought I’d look him up” I replied. “I knew Simon very well. I don’t remember you” she said. Her short blonde hair was worn with a parting high off her forehead which swept down to the right of her face, but swept back behind her ear on the left. She had an attractive oval face, with captivating eyes, thin black eyebrows, a long slender nose, prominent cheekbones and a firm chin. Aside from her eyes, one’s attention was drawn to her wide provocative mouth which always seemed to be in a tight sensual smirk. She smouldered sexuality, she was a predator, you could tell by the way she looked and dressed. She didn’t take her eyes off mine for a moment. She rested her chin on her hands, her elbows on the table. Her eyes burrowed into my soul making me feel very uncomfortable. “I don’t believe you” she said softly “I don’t know who you are or what you are after but keep out of my way or you’ll be sorry”. Without giving a chance to reply she stood up and made her way to her own table.

I drank up and decided to give Ian a call. “Do you know of anyone paying undue interest in your wife?” I asked. “Loads of blokes. She’s gorgeous. I’m a lucky fellow and she’s lucky to have me” he said pompously. “Anyone over-keen?”.”There was Richard Evans, but I drove him off” he said proudly. “Who’s he?”.”Market inspector. Gave me all sorts of grief. Right bastard. Nearly drove me out of business out of sheer spite, bribing the health inspectors to close me down and stuff like that” he told me “Chased after Cindy for a while, but I scared him off”.

Evans smiled, he had made it perfectly clear what Cindy had to do to make him get Ian off the hook and here she was. He had been chasing her for weeks, but she played hard to get. Now he would have her to add to his list of conquests.

Apart from them, the park was empty this time of night. Evans felt aroused as she looked at him with those eyes of hers and that tight smile of hers. “Wow!” he muttered as she removed her long coat and he caught sight of a black leather mini-skirt, a tight low-cut black silk blouse, sheer black nylons and stiletto heels. Deliberately she turned her back on him and bent over to place her coat and handbag neatly on a park bench, knowing the short skirt would rise above her stocking tops at the back. Turning around she smirked as she saw the tell-tale bulge in his trousers. “Why Richard!, is that a Mars bar in your pocket or are you just pleased to see me?” she said. “You’re too good for that prick Bull. Let me show you what a real man can do for you” he said boastfully.

Slowly she walked towards him, hips swaying provocatively, her eyes never leaving his face. “Oooh god, I want you” he gushed grabbing her shoulders and pulling her close. SLAM!, her nylon clad knee exploded between his legs like a steam iron cruelly crushing his erection. He slumped forward with a cry of pain to be caught by her firm arms. He looked up into those eyes, her mouth set in a firm smirk. SLAM! her knee pistoned up again into his groin. “You’re not man enough for me Evans” she said as she held him upright. SLAM! his crotch was hammered again. “You’re a slimy toad who should be trod on” she told him preventing him from falling. SLAM! her knee continued to smash his manhood to pulp. “and I’m going to be the one to do the treading” she said. SLAM! he could hardly feel the blows now over the excruiating pain between his legs.

She let him slump forward then held him so that his torso was leaning at 90 degrees to his legs with her arm wrapped over his neck. “I’m not going to let you destroy my mealticket” she told him. WHAM! her stockinged knee buried itself deep in his gut. There was an explosion of air from his mouth. He felt her firm arms tighten around his throat to prevent him from falling. “You’re nothing” WHAM! her knee hammered his stomach, “scum” WHAM! “a slug” WHAM!. With slow calculated precision she repeatedly drove her knee hard into his gut, the moonlight reflecting off her stockinged legs. Each crushing blow timed to let him recover a bit before she drove her knee in again WHAM!. “I’m your mistress of pain” WHAM!. Finally she let him fall to the ground.