Chapter 25: A Phone Call Changes Everything

Donna sat up, slowly waking up. What woke her up? She looked around the room. It was still dark, still early.

“What time is it?” she said softly to herself, as she sleepily looked for the alarm clock somewhere on the nightstand. Then she heard what had woke her up. The phone was ringing downstairs.

“Four o’clock.” Donna saw, “Who would be calling me at this hour?”

She turned on the light, and searched for a night gown or something, and found a bath robe. As she tucked herself in she stumbled downstairs to the ringing phone.

“All right, all right.” She said out loud, “I’m coming.”

“Probably Robert.” she thought yawning as she turned on the downstair lights, “Who has something exciting to tell about his job. He sometimes forgets the time difference...”

“Hello?” She said as she picked up the phone.

“Hello, Donna, Donna Alldring?” A unfamiliar voice asked.

“Speaking?” Donna said a bit surprised, as it wasn’t Robert.

“Hello, this is Dillon McDonnahue, the husband of Vivian.” The man on the other side said, “Sorry to bother you, but is Vivian still with you?”

“No...” Donna answered slowly, suspiciously, “She left hours ago, around twelve...”

“She hasn’t arrived home yet.” Dillon McDonnahue said, “And if she left around twelve from your place, she should have been home hours ago.”

“Yes...” Was all that Donna could say.

But her mind was racing again. She was wide awake right away and recalled what had happened last night. Vivian had been such a big help! She hoped nothing had happened to her.

“Did you guys drink a lot?” Dillon McDonnahue asked worriedly.

“No, not too much, Vivian knew she still had to drive home.” Donna answered.

“I hope nothing happened to her.” She added.

“I hope so too.” Dillon McDonnahue said, “Listen, sorry I had to bother you, I’m going to check the police now. Hopefully she just had a flat tire or so, and her phone was dead so she couldn’t make a call, or something like that.”

“Please, keep me posted.” Donna said, just before Dillon McDonnahue hung up.

“I hope nothing bad happened to her, she didn’t deserve that.” Donna thought as she hung up the phone.

She wandered through the living room for a while, switched on the television, trying to distract herself. She couldn’t sleep anymore as she kept on worrying about Vivian.

“It is not such a long drive, and she was sober, or at least fit to drive... , “

She drifted in and out of sleep on the couch, constantly thinking of what could have happened to Vivian, and hoping for a liberating phone call from her or her husband. All her worries of her own situation were forgotten.

At around six the phone finally rang. Donna woke up from her drowsy state and anxiously picked it up.

“Hello?”

“Donna, this is Dillon ... Listen...”

Donna could hear he was very upset and feared the worst.

“Vivian ... she has had an accident. The car must have slipped, and she ended up in the river...”

“Oh no!” Donna said as tears welled up in her eyes. “Oh no!”

“The current has swept her body out of the mangled car. They are looking for it now, but with the current, and the cold, they have little hope of finding her any time soon...”

“How horrible!!” Donna whispered.

She heard Dillon choke also.

“I ... I have to tell the kids still. I’m sorry, I’ll call you later. The police will pass by...”

“I understand, don’t worry. If there is any way I can help...”

“Thank you...” Dillon said with a trembling voice and hung up the phone, leaving Donna with her own worrisome thoughts.

The next hour she just sat on the couch comatose, just thinking of Vivian’s terrible fate. Suddenly and awful thought crept up on her: maybe Ms. Brendan was involved in this?

She quickly dismissed the thought, as she could not have arranged an attack on Vivian on such short notice. Though the thought kept on coming back to her.

“It does make sense, in a weird way,” she thought, “Doctor Dow also explained me once about the gang rape of the mother and daughter. She can be heartless, cruel. My own cut is a clear sign of that ... But still, murder? ... And how would she possibly know?”

As time passed by, she couldn’t shake the thought, and had to find out if it was true, if it was possible. After some internal deliberating she decided to call Ninon.

“She will know. If I ask her she will tell me...” She reasoned.

She picked up the phone. it was seven thirty already, and she expected Ninon would be up by now. She always had been an early bird, as far as Donna knew.

“Hello?” a surprised Ninon answered.

“Hello Ninon, it’s me, Donna.”

“Oh hi, I wondered when you would call me.” Ninon replied.

Donna was a bit surprised at this.

“You expected me to call you?”

“Yes, listen, we can’t talk on the phone right now. I’ll pick you up in about half an hour. I have to bring my kids to school today, and we’ll talk in the car afterwards. And you have little time before your meeting with Ms. Burkowitz. Be ready.” and Ninon hung up.

Donna looked at the phone, wondering what was going on. “She expected me to call ... does that mean that... ?”

Now she was really worried. And Ninon also mentioned the dreaded meeting with the psychiatrist this morning. She had figured she would call it off when the lady would appear at her doorstep. That had been the plan, Vivian’s plan.

“Or maybe she just doesn’t know yet I quit? Maybe she thinks I’m still going through with it? But why would she then mention she was expecting my call?”

Donna worried the next half hour as she showered and got ready for Ninon. She was unsure what to wear, normal clothing, or sexy? What was better now? She finally decided for something in between, medium high shoes, and a business suite with skirt. It gave herself an excuse to wear stockings.

Thus, Ninon could not really complain, and yet she did just wear normal clothing, or close to it. As for her make-up, her business attire excused her to just apply the basics, though she was a bit heavy on the bronze lip gloss and bronze eye shadow. But the bronze color wasn’t showing as much, so she still looked acceptable to herself.

Her hair she just tied in a knot on the back of her head. She had no time to really comb it now. When she was finished, she looked at herself in the mirror. She looked acceptable at first glance. Only when you looked further you saw the too sexy stockings, and the too heavy make-up.

She knew she was cheating herself somehow with these clothes; she was in fact again following the orders of Ms. Brendan. But she had no choice now as she did not know what was going on now.

When she saw Ninon drive up the parking lot in front of the garage she quickly went out, closed the door behind her, and got in the car.

“Children, say hi to Ms. Alldring.” Ninon said cheerfully.

“Hi Ms. Alldring!!” the children in the back seat said in unison.

“Hello children, good morning!” Donna replied pretending to be all cheery too.

They drove the kids to school and Donna talked with the children. She knew Ninon had a husband and kids, but she had never met them before. She looked at the kids as she talked with them. They were young, ages 4, 8, and 10. Striking was that the youngest one looked very different than the older two. The younger was blond, very blond, while the other two were dark haired. Also, his face was really different then the others.

“She probably has a very blond husband.” Donna concluded, when she finally sat back looking forward.

Her somber thoughts took over when she saw they were driving alongside the river. The same cold river where somewhere the body of Vivian was drifting somewhere. How awful it was to think about that.

Not much was said from thereon up until the moment the children were delivered at their schools. But when the last one ran out of the car towards his friends, the tension in the car rose right away.

Donna didn’t really know where to begin. She fumbled a bit and felt herself becoming very emotional. She got herself together and decided to start with the obvious question.

“Why did you expect me to call?”

Ninon smiled dryly; “You called off Ms. Brendan, and that is not how it works my dear. Ms. Brendan decides if she has had enough of you. On top of that you made the enormous mistake of threatening her. Not wise.”

“So...” Donna said, “She is responsible for Vivian’s dead?”

“Who is Vivian?” Ninon asked truly surprised.

“An old girlfriend of mine. I asked her to be my guardian for my therapy. She...” Donna had to choke back a tear “ ... She is the one who helped me to fight Ms. Brendan. She had a car accident early this morning. After she left me...”

There was a long silence in the car. Donna observed Ninon who just looked straight forward for a while, but you could see her thinking hard, her face tense.

“I don’t know if she’s responsible for her death.” Ninon finally said, “I know she can be ruthless, vicious. And I know you pissed her off big time. She called me immediately after she heard your stupid message, and boy was she angry.”

Ninon looked at Donna with a very serious look.

“And for the record, I am pissed too. I have gently trained you, I have been nice to you, I let you know what you were up to. And still you did something as stupid as this.”

“It was Vivian, she convinced me...” Donna started, but stopped.

“I’m not going to put the blame on Vivian, she is dead!” she thought, “How can I say such a thing.”

“She may have encouraged you, but you have a mind of your own. You should have known it was not wise to do what she told you. You should have known it was actually really stupid. Now you’ll face the consequences.” Ninon said brusquely, “You are such a stupid cunt.”

Donna understood Ninon was angry at her, and understood it was because she too was blamed for her rebellious act. She had been angry at her before when she had not reached her fuck quota that weekend. Now she understood why.

“How did she knew how to get Vivian?” Donna asked.

She had to be sure Vivian was killed by Ms. Brendan. Though by now she was convinced it was the case.

“I never said she killed your girlfriend. That’s what you can ask her yourself, but I don’t think it would be wise to do so.” Ninon warned her.

“Anyway, you decide for yourself what has happened, and how. I don’t really care. Just tell me if you will submit to your training again.”

Donna thought it over. Apart from Vivian disappearing Ms. Brendan hadn’t done anything to force her back to her.

“But then again she only called off yesterday evening. Not much time to react. But Ninon did expect her call. Does she know more than she says to me?”

“By the way, you don’t have much time. Your appointment with Ms. Burkowitz is in about an hour. And you still have to find a guardian.”

Donna felt the pressure Ninon was putting on her. She had to decide right now. Rebel or submit once again.

“If ... If I continue to rebel, what will happen?” Donna asked meekly.

“You must face the consequences, and they will be severe. The sky is the limit. If you think she hit on your friend, don’t you think she can hit on your own family also?”

This was a thought that had crossed Donna’s mind too. “If I quit, and she killed Vivian for it, she will be able to kill my family too, that’s right.”

She looked outside as they passed the river again. “I even think Ninon deliberately drives alongside this damn river all the time.”

And that thought made it clear to Donna. All the suspicious clues together could only yield to one conclusion; Ms. Brendan had killed Vivian ruthlessly, in cold blood. And that was her message to Donna.

Ninon was now showing her, by constantly driving alongside the river, her own family could end up in the same river if she continued with her rebellion. She was kind of the messenger.

“I am deeper in this shit than I previously could have imagined. And there is no way out now. But to submit again will mean punishment, heavy punishment.” she knew.

“What if I ... well ... go back again?” Donna asked.

“You will be punished. And it will be hard, no doubt about that.” Ninon answered honestly.

“You by now know how Ms. Brendan works. The last time you lost part of your job, and she upped your commitment. And that was when she was just disappointed with your achievements. Now she is pissed, so she will come down on you hard, very hard, and very cruel.”

“Oh boy...” Donna mustered.

She had to think hard. She had to choose between two horrible options. Rebel and face brutal attacks on her family or submit and face brutal punishment.

“If ... if I’m really good, I mean ... if I really follow orders, and play along, you know, really play along ... will there be a positive ... like, ending?” she asked, as she felt her tears come up.

“It’s in my opinion your best shot.” Ninon said, “Think logically. If you continue to rebel, well, you’ll probably lose everything, jobs, money, the house, and, if she killed Vivian, she might kill more.”

The car finally turned away from the river, as there was a moment of silence in the car.

“But if you submit, you might save something of it. And if you’re really working hard, proving to be a good trained girlfriend, show your love to her all the time ... You might get back some lost privileges. Maybe even get more.

“But I have to be honest, that’s totally up to Ms. Brendan.”

Donna thought about it again. She could run to the police, could tell them everything, but with the speed Ms. Brendan reacted with Vivian, she might hit on her daughters immediately, and on Robert, who’s totally in her power. He is far away in a foreign country where she can have him killed in an instance, no doubt.

“Where are my daughters now?” she asked Ninon, as she thought about them.

“Ms. Brendan’s driver is bringing them to school, remember? How can you ask me? You are their mother! They spent the night at some friends’ place I guess, and the driver was supposed to pick them up for school, as per your own request. After your call this morning I made sure that she would pick them up. I figured Ms. Brendan had cancelled the pick-up after the night call.”

Another hint. They were right now in the hands of Ms. Brendan. How did she now where the kids were? She had sent them away herself and she had not asked Ms. Brendan to pick them up. Did the kids call themselves?

“I’m really in deep shit, aren’t I.” Donna said.

“That’s an understatement.” Ninon replied, nodding her head slowly.

Donna looked for another way out, but nothing solved her problem. The family was not together, and the danger had risen from a simple financial and embarrassing revelation, to a murder threat. And she had never expected that.

At most she had thought of being raped, her daughters being raped, sodomized. But the cruel killing of her friend, only to keep Ms. Brendan’s name clean...

“It does explain why she can live her dark live. Whoever doesn’t do what she tells her to she will ultimate kill.” Donna understood now.

“Do ... do you know of any other killings she did?” Donna had to ask again.

“I don’t know, and I don’t want to know.” Ninon said, “And for the record, Ms. Brendan killing Vivian is still totally your idea. Don’t go around telling she is a killer, unless you have absolute proof. And even then, I don’t think it would be wise to go against her.”

Silence again, with Donna thinking again, shaking her head at the hopelessness of her situation.

“Ok, Police not an option and running away not an option. Not until I got my family together. I’ll have to go along for now. Again...”

“I ... I understand now.” Donna said, “I will submit again.”

She turned to Ninon “What will she do to me?”

“As I said, she will be hard on you. We all will be. But you deserve it, for all the trouble you caused. To everyone involved.”

The last sentence hit hard.

“She insinuates I am responsible for Vivian’s death.” Donna thought silently as they crossed the river again. Did the damn river run everywhere?

“If I involve anyone, that person’s life, my families’ life’s, all will be in danger. I can’t tell anyone anymore. Not for now.”

She felt trapped. She was trapped again, she knew.

“Why is she so angry at me, why is she out to get me?” she asked out loud.

“Now it is the fact that you blackmailed her. That was wrong. Leaving her she could understand, and she would pull you back gently, yet forcefully. But you wanted to fight her, and now you got your fight.” Ninon said.

“Heed my advice, just do as you’re told, or better, do even more. Do your utmost to get back on her good side again. Life will be hell otherwise. And you can’t win. Not from her.”

“But I will lose anyway. If I submit to her wishes she’ll turn me into a whore, a slut! How can I live like that?”

“If you can’t, you can always kill yourself, though she probably will still punish your family just for spite in that case.” Ninon answered coldly, “You need to focus on making her happy. If she’s happy, you can be, and thus your family, your friends can be. You don’t have any alternative.”

Silently they drove the last part to Donna’s house. When Ninon parked in front of the house she turned to Donna.

“So...” she started “You need to hurry to find yourself a guardian. One that you will tell the truth; that you want this therapy, that you chose it. Remember you need to update your diary too, and choose a fantasy, or fantasies you want to make real, before the meeting.

“I will return in half an hour and check your writings. It better be good, very good.”

“After the session you’ll need to go to work. And at the spa afterwards just get a message, tomorrow is you skin and tooth treatment, so do no special skin treatments. I will come tonight to discuss the new rules in the house. The new strict rules.”

She motioned for Donna to get out.

Donna went out of the car in a daze. Her mind was in turmoil as she understood she was back in the hands of Ms. Brendan, and that she had to be prepared for the worse. She looked at Ninon driving off.

Ninon had been angry too, but that she understood now. If she misbehaved Ninon was held responsible too. And she would somehow be punished too.

When the cold got to her, she woke up from her thoughts and ran back in the house.

“No time to waste, I need to call for another friend to be my guardian. Someone that will buy my lies, and then write in my diary...”

The First Therapy Meeting

Donna sat on her couch in her own living room. The ball gag in her mouth tasted bitterly. It forced her mouth open wide, and she had to swallow her own drool regularly, making sure she made soft but obscene gulping sounds.

As time passed, her jaws had started to ache. Furthermore, apart from black high heels and black fishnet stockings, she was stark naked. Donna’s face was heavily made up. Dark red lip gloss on her lips, she had also applied gloss on her nipples.

Her eyebrows had been freshly shaven into a thin line and colored dark black. Thick black eyeliner darkened the contours of her eyes, emphasized by black mascara. The thickness of the black makeup gave her a whorish, slut-like look. An especially cheap look.

Donna had made up her face with layers of pan stick under a light red gloss to accentuate and sharpen her cheekbones. Her eyes had the same reddish eye shadow applied to them.

Finally, and topping all of this, Donna had oiled her whole body, making her skin shine in the daylight. She looked kind of like a living doll - a fuck doll.

On a separate chair, with a bewildered face, sat Brigitte. Dressed normally in khaki, her blonde hair pulled backwards and simply tied, white sneakers, no makeup, Brigitte looked quite the opposite of Donna.

She was the perfect picture of the ordinary housewife, and she looked at Donna still not believing her eyes as the therapist explained what was going on.

On the table lay Donna’s diary. Melinda used it to read some of Donna’s latest escapades and the sexual feelings they had aroused in her. Or so the diary claimed.

With every filthy sexual activity described, Brigitte became visibly more disgusted. First curious in the beginning when Donna let her in and had explained a bit what was going to happen, Brigitte’s look had changed first to one of disbelief and then to one of utter disgust.

Now Donna was sitting quietly on the couch smiling, although it was clear that she was ashamed. But that wasn’t a problem as long as Brigitte believed Donna herself was totally behind this. Brigitte’s complete acceptance that the therapy being described was Donna’s idea was essential to the survival of her family, Donna’s reminded herself.

As the two friends exchanged looks, the therapist just kept on talking, explaining what was going on, what was going to happen: Yes, this really wasn’t your regular morning household coffee break.

“So, as said, you will be used to verify this all is happening with the consent of your good friend Donna. That means we will meet regularly on a monthly basis to discuss the latest developments,” Melinda said, professionally explaining the situation. It appeared as if this was all quite normal for her.

“As you can see, Donna is totally into her fantasies already, and her mind is indeed kind of sick. But I’m sure that as we dig into the depths of her sexual fantasies, she’ll come out a better ... a new person.”

Brigitte smiled politely at Melinda, but her eyes were still focused on the freakish Donna, sitting naked opposite her. Silenced by a ball gag, made up like some fetish doll, oil almost dripping off her body.

Brigitte had never seen any woman look like Donna did just now. Not in real life anyway and Brigitte couldn’t understand a woman preparing her own body like this, like a dish on which someone was free to feast his sexual appetites. And Donna was married!

“I know,” Melinda said reassuringly, “it’s weird to see your friend like this. It always is the first few times. You are used to seeing her as a friend, someone to chat with, or maybe even shop with. A mother just like you.

“But now, it’s as if you are really seeing her in her bed, you see her as a sexual monster. Something she has always hidden, suppressed.”

Brigitte nodded. She could agree with that statement. She looked at Donna again, and let her eyes follow along Donna’s glistening oiled body once again. The black high heeled shoes, the stockings, she wouldn’t even know where to buy that stuff!

And then the body, she had really worked out, she had shaved her vagina, and oiled it too. It showed every now and then when Donna switched positions, though she kept her legs decently together most of the time.

The latter didn’t make the scene less obscene; it appeared as if Donna was teasing her with her pose. And that made Brigitte feel even more uncomfortable.

Still, by the way Donna was now posed Brigitte didn’t had the look at that shaved vagina, with the lips showing so clearly. It disgusted her to see it. As she looked on, Brigitte could see Donna’s belly, the muscles, it’s skin color, the glimmering piercing.

She had been to the tropics -- well okay, but Donna’s skin was too dark to be naturally tanned. She must have artificially altered her skin color, probably in a tanning salon.

Next, Donna’s breasts were free for all to see. With the nipples made extra pink. Brigitte never in her whole life had done that; better, yet, she never would. It was degrading. And the nipples were poking out. The living doll in front of her was obviously excited.

Donna clearly loved exposing herself, humiliating herself, just as she had admitted in her diary. And her face with its thick layers of make-up. It turned Donna’s face into a smooth mask, almost unnatural.

The whorish look was fascinating; with those darkened eyes, hair done straight back, the bright red lips around the obscene ball gag. But most of all, the way Donna looked at her and tried to smile!

It disgusted Brigitte to the core. It showed Brigitte that Donna really was happy with the way she looked. True, you could see the shame in her eyes too, but Brigitte understood that this was only natural. Excitement and shame at the same time all fit the stories Melinda had read from Donna’s diary and the fantasies that Melinda had summed up from it.

Donna was probably truly ashamed of her actions, but she just couldn’t fight her urges. That much was obvious to Brigitte.

Now she was under therapy and had been told to let the real slut out. The shame would one day disappear. Even though Brigitte wondered what good that would bring.

And what she was seeing now was so different from the Donna that Brigitte thought she knew. Brigitte wasn’t happy now she knew the new Donna; not at all.

Why hadn’t Donna kept this from her? Brigitte wished Donna had chosen someone else. This whole thing would haunt her every minute of the day. It disrupted her safe, protected world.

Donna tried a vague half-smile again as she saw her friend look at her. She was fighting hard not to crack and hoped the humiliating session would be over soon.

As the session had progressed, she had come to understand just how thoroughly her former life was being destroyed. Everything that she had ever done, it seemed, was being placed in a different light by her latest escapades.

Brigitte hadn’t said much but when Melinda had asked if she never had noticed anything strange, Brigitte had slowly mentioned a few nights out, shopping trips, times with Donna when she could remember that sex was mentioned. What were silly jokes that Donna had told were now being reinterpreted as omens of what was unfolding now.

On advice of Melinda -- in fact, obeying orders -- Donna had gagged herself before the session. Melinda didn’t want her to say anything, just to “be herself.” The gag would keep her quiet and be a clear visible sign of her true slutty, kinky nature.

“It gets the message right through to the other person. It is whorish, sexually depraved, especially as you applied it to yourself.”

And Melinda had been so right. Melinda had advised her to change into something kinky and naked, something that would go together with the big red ball gag and then come downstairs to the meeting.

During Donna’s absence, Melinda had taken Brigitte, who had been waiting patiently in the living room, and showed her the room -- the sex room. Melinda had gotten a key from Ninon without Donna’s consent. She showed her all the dildoes, the whips, the lingerie that was now in the room.

And after the room, Melinda had taken her diary and let Brigitte browse through it, all the while explaining that Donna was just a sick mind, sexually frustrated, sex addicted, and needed to be cured.

Brigitte was convinced in no time.

When Donna had come down to the living room, dressed in just the high heels and fishnet stockings, ball-gagged, Brigitte saw for herself that it was all true. Donna truly was sick.

For Donna, it had taken all her courage to walk downstairs to where her friend sat. When she saw the diary open on the table, Donna knew her life was ruined. When she heard Brigitte had seen her room, Donna knew there was no turning back anymore. She just had to be strong and play along.

If Brigitte wouldn’t go along and failed to be convinced of Donna’s “sick urges,” Donna would endanger everything, including her family, and Brigitte as well. As she was sitting on the couch, Donna felt it was slowly getting easier to do just that.

If she didn’t fight and just went along, she had so much less to worry about.

“And now Brigitte knows about the room, so what?” Donna convinced herself. “Sooner or later during therapy, it would have come out anyway. Now it is just out in the open from the beginning.”

But Brigitte’s looks were disturbing Donna. She still had some pride left, although shattered more and more by every disgusted look.

Brigitte wasn’t the kind of women who appreciated this. Sex never was something she talked about. It was something very private to her. And now with the way that Brigitte had looked at her, Donna knew she wasn’t into anything kinky at all. Worse, Brigitte despised it.

But then again, clearly Brigitte did believe everything that she had just been told. That could be counted as a success. It would make Ms. Brendan and Ninon happy, hopefully. Hopefully they would have merci with her now she was doing exactly as told to.

Ninon had emphasized that she had to fully cooperate. When Ninon had returned to read the diary, she had made lots of corrections, telling Donna to make it worse, to make it filthier.

Donna knew that she was being punished for rebelling. She had complied but only after several more attempts Ninon was really satisfied.

Donna had been horrified by what had been written down. It was totally opposite to her true feeling, and contrary to her real morals, her own personality.