Chapter 24

Penrose fought to stifle his gut reaction, one of absolute horror. He'd spent many hours discussing Amanda with her parents, and almost felt he knew her in a limited fashion. He recalled the description of a shy, innocent teenager that struggled to integrate with her peers. Seeing the girl displayed in such a depraved manner caused the bile to rise in his stomach.

"Feel the softness of her skin," the Baron suggested, running his hand over her flesh. His fingers teased her erect nipples and the girl sighed softly as she absorbed his caress.

Unwilling to show the Baron his reluctance, he stroked along her upper thigh and the girl eagerly pressed back against his touch.

"She is Schlampe ... slut, yes?" The Baron announced.

"Yes," Penrose agreed. "Aren't all Morbius's girls."

"Ingrid and Jamila still have limits. After a hard night, they are quiet and withdrawn for a day, maybe two."

"Susan and Amanda take everything without complaint and the next day they can do it all again. Morbius's treatment is only part of the picture. There is something within each girl that dictates how far she will descend. Amanda and Susan have no limits that I can determine; they freely debauch themselves."

"And yet she's tied up."

"She enjoys it, don't you Amanda?"

The girl nodded vigorously. "What if I was to get Hans in here to fuck you, Fraulein? Would that please you?"

Amanda closed her eyes and nodded, pure rapture written across her face.

The Baron reached under the bench and produced a slender cane. "What if I was to whip you?" he demanded of her.

The girl thought for a moment but her expression conveyed no hint of fear. She nodded acceptingly.

"You're not going to?" Penrose asked nervously.

The man ran the cane over her flesh and Amanda savoured the contact, rubbing her cheek against it as it passed over her face. Penrose had never seen such devotion, her expression conveying how totally she yielded to his control. He lashed her once across the belly, leaving a prominent red mark in its wake. Amanda yelped then sighed ecstatically, her hips writhing as she clamped down on the intruder in her vagina.

"We'll see you later, little one," he praised as he returned the switch to its former home. "No punishment for you today."

Penrose swore he could see a hint of disappointment in her eyes.

"Another hour and then you can have a nice swim," he suggested. Amanda's eyes lit up.

"She's is a very proficient swimmer. She spends two hours each day in the pool, it keeps her fit but I suspect there's something more there."

Penrose recollected she was on the local swimming team. George had proudly displayed the trophies she'd collected over the past few years. It seemed to him that maybe the old Amanda was buried deep inside and that maybe some way could be found to draw it back to the fore in the near future.

"When Ingrid leaves me, I'm hoping Olivia will replace her. Susan will soon determine if this is realistic. She has provided great pleasure for you?"

"What? Yes, she's absolutely incredible."

"You've shared her?"

"With my wife and some of my colleagues."

"Excellent. You've obviously laid a good foundation. Susan will soon complete her training."

"She certainly seemed like a resourceful girl."

"She was the first girl that Morbius treated. She was the daughter of a British police officer that caused me considerable embarrassment and inconvenience by having me deported from the country. I now have to limit the length of my visits and it is incredibly difficult for me to do business in your country."

The Baron's words finally confirmed his suspicions that the girl was Hammond's missing daughter. While she was still alive, he wondered if anything remained of Susan's previous existence. His determination to see events to a conclusion strengthened and he resolved to play the part until he could leave and bring the curtain down on the Baron's despicable activities.

His upstairs room was airy and light. It contained little more than a wooden framed bed with two single mattresses, a wardrobe and chest of drawers, and finally an antique writing desk with matching chair.

His suitcase had been delivered from the car; the clothes hung in the wardrobe and folded away neatly into the drawers. He took a shower and then changed into fresh clothes in preparation for dinner. The Baron had told him that food would be served promptly at six and that entertainment would follow.

He walked onto the narrow balcony and looked out over the grounds, watching as a number of heavily armed men patrolled the perimeter. If an assault took place, he weighed the potential for loss of life and tried to figure ways to ensure he didn't get caught in the crossfire and that none of the girls suffered harm. To lose Amanda at this stage would be a totally tragic outcome.

Hunnicutt was in full panic mode. Morbius had informed him of the policewoman's sudden appearance at the clinic and that he was placing her into the treatment program, claiming that she'd followed a solo lead and that none of her colleagues were aware of her discovery. Ultimately, he knew the police would eventually locate the clinic. Whatever clue the policewoman followed, others would surely find. To add insult to injury, Pamela was lost to him, still not responding to the treatment although he considered the possibility that Morbius was lying to him. It made no difference anymore.

He looked at the open email from the Baron, instantly recognizing the picture of the detective that had infiltrated the compound. He replied back, choosing not to reveal the man's true identity. The Baron's situation was no longer tenable. The Italian authorities would doubtless be waiting behind the curtain, choosing the appropriate moment to appear and bring the performance to a close.

A quick enquiry had unearthed both Penrose and Hammond's travel details to Milan together with Olivia Gilbert. Stephen Wilson was either complicit or now in custody, and had obviously decided to provide evidence against him in order to escape prosecution. The signs were daunting. He was too old to survive prison and probably too well known to leave the country if the ports of entry had been forewarned.

Nella came into the room, still dressed in one of the thin kimonos that she wore around the apartment. He'd made love to her all afternoon, savouring the last time he would use her body. She had brought him much happiness over the years and what he intended to do to her gave him great regret.

"You want something?" she asked, still glowing from their earlier encounter.

"Yes, Nella. Ice cream, sliced strawberries, fresh mango, anything similar that's available in the fridge."

"Now?"

"Please."

"I get," she sighed, departing towards the door.

"No rush, take your time." She frowned and left him to his contemplation.

Nella spent twenty minutes preparing his feast. Her body relished the afternoon; he'd been particularly attentive to her needs. A car backfired just as she was adding the ice cream to the plate. She glanced out of the window but the street was empty. She walked back along the hallway towards the study carrying the food. "I sorry, David, I take long time."

Pushing open the door, she dropped the plate and it was nearly a minute before she finally stopped screaming. Hunnicutt's blood and brains were sprayed over the far wall.

Her hands shook as she dialled for the emergency service, her mind struggling to come to terms with what was happening. She suddenly longed to return to her parents in Prague, wanting nothing more to do with the country that had been her home since she'd met Hunnicutt. Sitting down on the leather sofa, she tried desperately to compose herself before the police arrived.

Angela fought the effects of the machine but it became progressively more difficult to resist with each passing hour. On the plasma screen, Amanda stretched out naked on the bed, her beautiful face twisted in ecstasy as her fingers flew between her thighs. A man had just arrived, one that she recognised from earlier, the one with the scar down his cheek. Naked, he presented his cock to the youngster's mouth and she took him in without a qualm, relishing each inch as it forced its way between her lips.

In a total quandary, Angela watched as the man discharged, coating her innocent features with his corrupt seed. Amanda's tongue gathered up and devoured what she could reach, then her sticky fingers scooped up the rest and ferried it to her open mouth. Angela climaxed powerfully and then began to climb anew as the machine afforded her no respite.

Penrose sat at the dining table finishing the last scraps of his sumptuous feast. As well as being a beautiful girl, Astrid was also an accomplished cook.

The Baron rambled endlessly on and on about changes in the financial markets then moved onto his other great passion, securing beautiful girls in strict bondage and occasionally tormenting their tortured souls.

Penrose nodded, but wanted nothing more than to get through the night and escape to confirm the Baron's heinous criminality.

"I was a little worried earlier, Herr Wilson."

"Oh?"

"I was a little distrustful. You must understand, I am a very careful man and I wanted to be sure exactly who I was dealing with."

"I can assure you..."

"I took the liberty of forwarding your image to David Hunnicutt."

Penrose stifled a gasp and wondered how far he could get if he ran now. If he reached the car, he contemplated if he could ram the gates before they shot him.

"Naturally, he confirmed your identity. I must apologise for my suspicions. I hope you can forgive me."