Chapter 1

Elizabeth Hamilton-Jenkins studied the shop's display of perfumes with a critical and yet knowledgeable eye... and promptly turned her nose up at them all for in this dreary, high-street chain store there was nothing that appealed to her extravagant tastes. Glancing about her at the other counters that surrounded her trim figure, all she could see were cheap, nasty goods, not one of which would ever find a place at any of the upmarket departmental stores such as Liberty's or Fortnum & Mason's that she was more usually seen to be shopping at.

But then, Elizabeth Hamilton-Jenkins wasn't here to shop. Oh, no, she had no intention of actually buying anything here. No, she was here to fulfil an illicit craving that she would not admit to having to anyone, and would hardly concede to herself. Feeling an excitement building within her, Elizabeth took one last glance about before slowly extending a stealthy hand that proceeded to snatch up a perfume bottle almost at random before being very rapidly withdrawn. The bottle was immediately transferred down inside the waistband of her designer jeans and then into her pure silk briefs. Smiling to herself, her need for excitement sated for the moment, Elizabeth headed towards the store's exit, the tiny glass bottle snuggled hard against her pubic hair.

Down in the store's security office, Sam Berkindale tore his eyes away from the dusty monitor sitting on the desk before him on which he had observed the young and obviously wealthy woman shoplifting and hurriedly left the office, buttoning up his dark blue uniform jacket as he did so.

Elizabeth strolled towards the shop's east exit as if she didn't a have a care in the world... and, truth to tell, she didn't. And why should she? She was the daughter of a rich and successful businessman, her every need and whim catered for. With holidays, cars, clothes, the best of food and drink, Elizabeth lived well. And then there was sweet Andrew who had been courting her for years now with the full blessing of both sets of devoted parents. It was a match made in heaven for both Andrew and Elizabeth had been born with solid sterling silver spoons in their mouths... and, following their long planned marriage n a few years time, it would be only logical that both family's firms would be merged to create one very large organisation which would hold a monopoly of their selected trade in the country. Reaching out a delicate palm, Elizabeth was just about to push the door open when a heavy hand fell upon her shoulder and a deep, gruff voice grated into her ear, "Just a moment, Madam... I'd like a quick word with you. I don't think that you've paid for all the goods that you're removing from this store."

Elizabeth froze in her tracks, her eyes taking in the faces of the shocked shoppers around her as they stared, some already mouthing the word 'shoplifter' to their fellows. Panicking, she tried to run but the security man reacted faster and, grabbing her arm, he twisted it painfully up behind her slender back. "Now, now, Miss... Let's not make things worse. Come with me please." Giving up the unequal struggle, Elizabeth allowed herself to be lead away, all the excitement of her 'shopping' trip lost now, only to be replaced with a sudden, sinking feeling of fear in the pit of her stomach along with a desire to hide herself away where the world, and especially her famously strict father, could not find her...

"Please sit down, Miss," requested the security officer once he and Elizabeth had arrived in his rather seedy office. "This," he went on, indicating a rather plain looking woman dressed in a similar uniform the his own and who had entered with them, "is Mable. She is here to make sure that everything that happens here is... well, conventional. I'm sure you understand?"

Elizabeth nodded and agreed that she did.

"Good. Now, let's start with your name, shall we?"

The girl opposite him seemed to think for a second before replying, "Jane... Jane Holbeck."

A rather disbelieving smile flashed across the man's face. "Oh, please Miss Hamilton-Jenkins, let's not play games here. I know perfectly well who you are."

Elizabeth swallowed hard. "How... how do you know that?" she finally managed to ask.

The man's smile now held some sinister expression, some dark emotion that chilled the blood in Elizabeth's veins. "You don't remember me, do you?" The woman opposite shook her head slightly. "I didn't think so." Sam went on. "Your sort never see what's not of interest to them. For five years I was the Doorman at your father's headquarters and I saw you arrive and leave with the old man many, many times. And you know what? Never one did you say as much as a 'Thank You' to me. And now I know that you never even looked at my face."

Realising that she might be about to pay for her inattention, Elizabeth tried to mutter an apology.

"Too late for that now, Miss... far to late for that. Now, let's get on shall we? Name, address... I know all that stuff. I even know how old you are, Elizabeth - twenty three. I can call you Elizabeth, can't I?"

Elizabeth want to yell a rebuttal at the man opposite her. She didn't want such a common, repugnant person calling her by name but, since she was was well educated and understood the way these things worked, she agreed that he could.

"Very well then. Let's move on. So, why did you take that perfume, Elizabeth, when you could so easily afford something so much better?"

Suddenly the tiny bottle hidden inside her knickers seemed to grow in size to the point where Elizabeth was sure that its outline must be clearly visible to all through the tight denim that encased her groin. "I... I didn't take anything. You... you can search my handbag if you don't believe me."

Sighing, Sam wearily stood up and moved around the desk, his steadfast eyes boring into the rather nervous ones of the girl who sat before him. "Please stand up," he told her in an authoritative tone.

Not quite sure why she did as she had been instructed, Elizabeth rose to her feet almost before she knew what she was doing. Then, with more conscious thought, she held her leather handbag out towards the man for inspection. But Sam totally ignored the offering and, instead, moved behind the standing woman. Elizabeth could sense the closeness of the security officer behind her, could feel his breath upon her neck and she nervously tried to see what he was up to without actually moving her head. Suddenly, with a motion that would have done credit to a striking cobra, Sam slipped his hand down inside the waistband of Elizabeth's jeans before pushing his questing fingers deeper into her panties where he grabbed the perfume bottle and just as quickly withdrawing his hand. Holding the minute bottle before the girl's astounded gaze, Sam said, "You were saying, Elizabeth?"

For some long seconds Elizabeth could only stare at the man before her. She could not believe that he had dared to do what he had. He'd actually forced his hand into her knickers... he'd touched, abet very briefly, her most intimate and private parts and now he was standing there as if he had done nothing out of the ordinary. Elizabeth turned her face to the female officer and asked, in an incredulous tone, "Did you see what he just did?"

Mable squirmed a little and looked at the floor but she said nothing.

"You're supposed to be here to protect me from abuse like that. What are you going to do about it?"

"Oh, she'll do nothing, Elizabeth, absolutely nothing that I don't tell her to do. Isn't that right, Mable?" Sam gloated, while the woman merely kept her eyes glued to floor, still saying nothing. "Did you see anything untoward just happen, Mable?" Sam enquired.

A worried head shook in the negative.

"I asked you a question, Mable..." There was a definite hint of menace in the man's tone now.

"No, no, Sir, I saw nothing untoward happen."

Elizabeth gasped in disbelief. How could the woman say that? What kind of hold could this Sam possibly have over her?

"Now, Mable, I want you to stand with your back against the door to make sure that no-one comes in while Miss Hamilton-Jenkins and I finish our little chat." Turning his attention back to the still standing interviewee, Sam smiled. "But I can see why you would deny your petty little crime, Elizabeth. I know all about your old man and the way he regards thieves. Even for the slightest transgression he would always insist on getting the police involved, wouldn't he? And I'd guess that he'd be no easier on his own family, now would he?"

The girl shook her head sadly.

"So why did you do it? Why risk so much for something so trivial? What else did you get out of it? Is it as simple as that you crave the excitement? Is everything just a little too easy for you, Elizabeth?"

A slight nod of the head was the only answer that Sam received.

"And is it - this excitement - so extreme as to be of a sexual nature?"

This time the girl blushed and shook her head in the negative but Sam had seem this type of behaviour before and he knew, full well, that he was correct. "Well, I hope you enjoyed the experience, girl, 'cos I'm now going to call your dad and tell him what you've been up to."

"No! No, you mustn't! He'll disown me! He'll cut me off, he'll insist you set the law on me! You don't know what he's like!"

"I know full well what he's like, you silly little girl. And I'm still going to call him."

"Look - I'll pay for the damn perfume... I'll pay double... triple... I'll give you a hundred pounds for it... Just don't make the call, please," the panicked young girl pleaded.

"And is this hundred pounds for the store or for me?" Sam asked.

"For the shop, of cou... oh, I see. Okay, I'll give you a hundred as well... five hundred... a thousand... and some for her too... please, I beg of you!"

"So beg. Beg me not to make the call. But do it properly."

"You can't mean..." Elizabeth protested.

"Oh, but I do. I want to see you squirm, you stupid upper-class spoilt brat! Get down on your knees and beg me properly!"