Chapter 4

Restoring my disguise, I decided to keep Olivia company as I composed my email to her father. She complained that her limbs were stiff so I released her from restraint to allow her chance to stretch out. The bedroom door was securely locked, just in case she decided to make another bid for freedom.

I powered up the laptop and started to type. Olivia watched me at work, without making comment. I quickly outlined my demand for four million Euros in non-consecutively numbered five hundred Euro notes. The cash would easily fit within a small suitcase, simplifying the act of transporting it when the exchange eventually took place.

A third of the proceeds would eventually line the pockets of certain figures in a notorious Russian crime syndicate, compensating them for laundering the funds and placing the remainder into my numbered offshore account. I'd worked for them years earlier and, once in their favour, it was a relatively simple matter to re-establish contact. I'd been careful to keep my true identity secret, communicating through a number of drop boxes that were regularly monitored. They'd provided me most of the essential tools necessary to carry out the abduction.

From my dealings with them, I knew they operated a whole host of illegal operations from blackmail and intimidation to money laundering, drug smuggling and, perhaps the least savoury of all, sex trafficking. The option existed to hand Olivia over to them where she'd presumably disappear without a trace.

The demand for young girls in certain countries, particularly the Middle East, was prolific. I had no doubt that, if I was so inclined, I could extract fair compensation for selling her into slavery. It was not an eventuality that I envisaged; more of an absolute last resort.

To add further incentive to Raymond, I intimated that I had contact with organised criminals and that if he failed to comply with my demands, there was the distinct possibility they would be interested in finding a new home for his daughter.

I visited the toilet before returning to review and transmit the message. I discovered Olivia perched over the screen, reading every word that I'd typed. She gasped in horror as she perceived her possible fate and launched herself at me, screaming in hatred.

Dodging her blows, I fought to deflect her fury as she attempted to vent her outrage on the man that would engineer such a terrible future for her. It took all my strength to finally subdue her and reassure her that it was simply a bluff for the benefit of her father.

"It's just an email," I told her. "I need to convince him that I mean business. I know exactly what he's like. He'll attempt to delay things for as long as possible in order to give his people a chance to locate you. Only unless he thinks there's a deadline and an alternative if he chooses not to pay is there any chance he'll comply."

Olivia was unconvinced. "You're going to sell me. I'll never see Mum and Gem ever again," she sobbed. "It's not fair. I hate you! I hate you!"

"I don't know what to say. I'd never do anything like that to you."

"Are you telling me you don't know anybody that does sort of thing?"

I couldn't lie. "I know some pretty nasty people, it's true. I try not to think too deeply about some of their activities. My involvement with them only goes as far as providing a means to launder the ransom money."

Olivia viewed me suspiciously but realised how she was totally at my mercy. Even if I was minded to dispose of her that way, there was probably little she could do to prevent it.

"Do you promise?" she whined, attempting if nothing else to appeal to my conscience. I surmised she thought that if I broke my word to her, she'd at least score some sort of moral victory.

"I promise, Olivia. I promise that when this is all over, I will return you to your family unharmed." I stated this in as unequivocal a tone as I could muster.

She stared at me for a long time before replying. "Okay," she muttered dolefully, returning to sit on the bed.

I proofread the email before sending it on its way. I corrected the spelling and grammar, anxious to dispel the impression that I was some uneducated lout with a tenuous grasp on the English language.

"Won't they trace it?" Olivia asked.

"They'll try. If they have a few months to spare, the trail will eventually lead them to a Linux machine situated in the basement of a dingy wine bar in central Moscow."

"You HAVE thought all this through, haven't you?"

"In excruciating detail."

She watched as I attached another picture of her bound and gagged on the bed to the email.

"I took it the other night after you fell asleep," I informed her as she stared at the rather evocative image.

I can't deny that I found the picture stimulating. First thing this morning, I'd quickly flicked though all the images I'd taken so far. I felt a little guilty at the depths to which I'd descended but a part of me enjoyed it enormously. I also saw this as another possible opportunity to make Raymond suffer. If he refused to play ball, I could send him an explicit reminder of the results of his inaction.

I reheated some leftovers for lunch and we spent the afternoon together. Olivia read the newspaper I'd bought the day before and attempted the Sudoku, eventually cursing in frustration when she discovered the number seven duplicated along a vertical row.

"I can never do Fiendish," she lamented.

I decided not to enlighten her on my adeptness with the puzzle, having learned many of the techniques to crack even the most taxing variants.

After dinner, I decided to allow her into the lounge for the first time. I tied her wrists and ankles to preventing her from getting into mischief. Secretly however, I relished the sight of her in restraint.

We watched a film on the satellite. I don't remember the name but it starred Hugh Grant and featured much the same pseudo-romantic storyline as the rest of his movies. Olivia seemed to enjoy it.

After consuming her hot chocolate, she was soon tucked up in bed. Like the night before, the drug soon took effect and Olivia slipped into a deep sleep. I quickly removed the ski mask, desperate to be free of it.

For a second, I wrestled with my conscience about repeating the activities of the previous evening. Finally casting them aside, I set about methodically stripping her until she lay naked on the bed.

Without the intervention of clothes, her pristine beauty shone straight out at me. The guilt at my action soon abated, to be replaced by sheer sexual excitement. I knew that tonight I was in severe danger of molesting her.

I took a picture of her naked body then positioned the camera on the bed beside her, ready to record any detail in an instant. I removed my own clothes and lay next to her, running my hand over her silky skin and enjoying the warmth radiating from her. I explored between her legs and allowed a finger to insinuate itself between her labia and tease the concealed entrance to her sex. Rubbing her tiny bud insistently, I detected a change in her rate of breathing as she responded to my touch on some unconscious level. I discerned a slight build-up of moisture around her opening, indicative that my actions were having a salient effect.

Lowering my mouth to her breast, I took a nipple between my lips and applied gentle suction. The nub engorged and I feasted on it whilst continuing to tease her womanhood.

Her labia were soon awash with her juices. I probed her, delighting when she offered me easy ingress. I slid the entire length of my index finger into her vagina without finding the slightest trace of a hymen. Whilst not exactly scandal in these enlightened times, I still found it mildly surprising that Olivia was not a virgin. I wondered which pimply youth had plundered her chastity.

I sat up and studied her in exquisite detail, cataloguing every pore and blemish. My hands renewed their exploration but without the reticence of previously. I eased my finger back into her vagina, savouring the warmth and tightness surrounding it. I spread her legs apart and knelt between them, my erect penis waving in the air as it eagerly anticipated the prospect of greater involvement. Withdrawing my finger, I edged closer; the head of my cock aimed directly at its target.

My breathing ceased as the tip pressed against her inner labia and I knew that only a small effort would be required to lodge myself within such an inviting refuge. Her puffy outer lips caressed my glans, parting in a gesture of friendship and offering the possibility of a warm reception. I pressed forward, engaging her opening and relishing the tight confinement it would soon provide. Drawing in a ragged breath, I reached for the camera and framed our coupling in the viewfinder before pressing the shutter release.

"No!" I decided.

I withdrew and sat back to watch as her vulva slowly eased shut. I inhaled noisily and decided upon an alternate course of action. Advancing trance-like on my knees, I straddled Olivia's chest with my penis resting between her breasts. I teased her engorged nipples with one hand whilst with the other I wrapped my fingers around my cock, sliding them up and down the shaft with a regular stroke.

Olivia moaned as my stimulation exerted some subliminal influence. Her mouth opened and her tongue emerged to dampen her parched lips. The evocative act provided the final impetus to reach climax and, unable to stop myself, I directed the cascade towards her face.