An obnoxious Bank Manager gets her come uppance as someone exchanges her identity with that of a street walker
I didn't want to get into this business, but you know, well, you have to live, eat, pay the bookies, stand a round when you meet your mates, that sort of thing don't you?
I remember the last days of my business, the legitimate one, the courier firm, watching the work dry up and the customers going down like ninepins, laying the guys off one by one, self employed guys, hanging around the office, instead of being out on the road, some just gave up of their own accord, others I had to suggest they looked elsewhere.
The trouble was as the legit side of the trade dried, tapes, CDs, documents most of my business was break bulk pharmaceuticals, packages in Jiffy bags and video tapes to obscure addresses, when it was ten per cent of the business it was fine but then it was fifty per cent and you can't juggle the dodgy and legit runs, the guys were repeating the same runs, questions were asked, the good guys, with smart vans and bikes, sussed it and left while the low-lifes sussed it as well, long delays, "Break downs", I suspected they were stealing what ever it was and replacing it with what ever so more and more it was me taking the dodgy runs myself, in the Fiesta van or the K100 BMW, a bloody awful motorcycle if ever there was one, but at least it had absolutely fridge like reliability.
I got to know Leroy and Frank, they ran the import and distribution company, and they knew I was in the shit.
I tried to keep legit, a Solicitor wanted a guaranteed secure courier service to their Durham and Liverpool branches, they liked me, but they wanted a guarantee of vehicles less than three years old.
The Beemer was ten and the Fiesta even older.
Which is where I met Kate.
I was dressed to the nines, best suit, waistcoat even, sober tie, the one I wore when I was hauled before magistrates to explain how my Motorcycle must have been cloned and I was sitting behind my desk when the BMW hurtled through roadworks at 129mph. Actually I failed to spot the bloody camera.
But Kate, Ms Katherine Beauchamp, she was sitting there behind her desk, all prim and proper, nut brown hair in a bun, dark business suit, her white blouse giving just a hint of the luscious cleavage beneath, her eyes distorted by her spectacles.
Early Twenties, I guessed, high flyer, "Ms K Beauchamp Business Loans Manager." said he name tag,
"Look Andrews," she said, after the initial frosty welcome, "You don't really expect me to give you a business loan for an executive toy at this point of the economic cycle?"
"Its Agnew," I corrected, "and its for the specific contract."
"I know a complete fantasy fabrication when I see one," she continued, "Your turnover is eighty per cent down on last year, I saw the accounts, eighty per cent down in volume since last year, eighty."
"But I'm still solvent, I can shed staff, do more myself, out on the road not as controller."
"Look, Mr Agnew, do your self a favour sell up, while you can, Liquidate, before we foreclose,"
I knew the figures, it was finely balanced but she should have see I was a very good solid prospect, for a business loan.
"Buy your executive toy on your private account and stop wasting my time."
I knew she had not checked the figures, she just either did nor like me or more likely I was small fry and beneath her dignity for her to help.
She crushed the life out of my business without a thought, I even thought I saw a glint of pleasure in her eyes as she said, "Good day, don't fight it, Liquidate."
The Office was on a short lease, Mandy my p.a. and controller handed in her notice, she was going back to her old job at Tesco so I gave up, I told the lads remaining lads that we finish on Friday, I somehow scratched together enough to pay most of them, Jimmy took my Ford Mondeo in lieu of what I owed him and over the weekend I just took the contacts book and dumped the rest and I went back to being a one man band, like I started eight years before, except then I had a brand new Honda, and dreams.
It was ironic, a year before I had the world at my feet, looking to take on more riders, I was careful to keep my Porsche hidden, I didn't let too many people know when I bought a new Mondeo, I liked to look less prosperous than I was, yet now I was desperately trying to keep up appearances, to put a buffer between my working life disasters and my life at home with Sara, but it was not the same, we agreed to put the wedding on hold and stopped doing things together, until we just slept together.
Somehow I ended up taking on courier jobs for Leroy, exactly what I wanted to avoid, Jiffy bag to somewhere in Wiltshire, or Herefordshire, or somewhere equally remote, it just had to be drugs, not even disguised as documents or Videos, around ninety five miles one way, ninety five pounds for ninety minutes each way thirty quid an hour, then as I returned from one trip I got a call on my mobile phone, I used a hands free inside the helmet of course and they have another package for Ross on Wye, I head round there and they are very suspicious, so I head off for darkest Herefordshire.
It was a farmhouse I delivered the package, "Hey hang around, I got a return for you."
"No way, one way only," I insisted.
"Hundred?" he offered, pulling notes from his back pocket.
"Done." I agreed, and within minutes I was heading back down the twisting turning A40 road towards Gloucester.
Leroy was hanging around their "Office," when I rolled in, he offered me a coffee, I agreed, well over four hours in the saddle, in the cold I needed warming up, Frank his side- kick took the package and after a minute he called Leroy in.
"It's kosher man." he said and that was that, I finished my coffee and rode off.
I seemed to work exclusively for them after that, I knew it was drugs I was transporting, I ever actually saw or handled them, but I knew, but I made sure that I just collected and delivered wrapped packages.
Sometimes I did late collections, after seven there would be girls hanging around the "Office" a first floor flat above a disused chemists shop, sitting watching TV waiting, sometimes Taxis arrived for them, short skirts, too much make-up, too much cleavage on display it's not rocket science is it? drugs, girls, sometimes they almost pushed me out of the door to get rid of me quickly, clearly they did not want me to know what was going on, but then as they realised I was not going to rip them off they started getting me doing late night local deliveries.
I would start round eleven work till may be two in the morning, no more nine to five, no more picking Sara up from work in the Porsche for a nice meal, see a show, whatever, then make love, more like roll in at two, completely shattered, sleep in the chair till three and then carefully slip into bed beside her so as not to wake her only to wake to find she had gone to work.
One time Leroy handed me a simple clear bag of white powder, and gave me an address.
"No offence but in a sealed Jiffy bag, please." I requested.
He grinned, his gold fillings contrasting with his stained rotting teeth, his coarse black skin crinkling, his bloodshot eyes twinkling. "You sure are something else man." he told me.
I did a short trip, one of many, but this time it stuck in my mind, a really offensive piece of shit opened the door of this posh up market Edwardian Town house,the sort with steps up to the door, half a story above street level with basement windows at pavement level, all granite frontage and red brick out back, this arrogant prat with an Eton accent, thousand pound suit, peanut size brain and obviously stoned came to the door.
"Gear's here chaps," he bellowed loud enough to be heard at the end of the street.
"I just deliver it." I told him,
I handed him the yellow package but for some reason he shouted, "Hey Pinkers, the gear is here." he bellowed again as he stood with the door open waiting for "Pinkers" to come.
That's when I saw Kate, she was wearing a black dress low cut, I thought I recognised her , but I could not place her, I figured perhaps she was one of Leroy's girls, but she seemed too arrogant for a whore.
I got a call from Sara asking me to call in at home and I was nearly there when I realised the girl I saw was the same bitch who had refused my business loan, and then when I arrived Sara, my girlfriend was waiting for me.
She was sitting on a chair, in the kitchen, with her coat on and her bags packed, she looked sad, her usual smile missing, her twinkling eyes dulled, the corners of her ruby lips downcast.
Her long blonde hair fell to the shoulders of her long dark coat which hid the womanly curves which had attracted me to her, as she worked as receptionist at a printers after Trevor had walked out on her for some dolly bird, she suddenly looked old, the age gap had never mattered, I had never noticed but now her thirty years were clearly etched on her face.
"I had a long talk with Trevor earlier," she told me, "He wants me back."
"Sara, what about us?" I asked.
"There is no us, James, you are always working, always tired, there is never any spare money."
"Sara, it will turn around."
"We both know it's over." she said as she stared at me, "sell up, get rid of this albatross of a house and get a life."
I knew she was right, I had driven a Porsche when we met, the House had seemed a bargain, but the loan on the Porsche was too expensive and the Mortgage was crippling me.
"I asked Robin about the house and he has a cash buyer willing to pay three eight,"
A quick calculation, I owed the bank three seven fifty, thousand. "Oh, we paid six ten."
"At least it's not negative equity." she observed, showing a detailed knowledge of things I had tried to keep from her.
"I'll get the van." I offered.
"No Trev will be round, he's waiting for me to call."
I reached out and held her hand.
"I'm sorry," I apologised, "it all got on top of me, if you need to go, then I must respect that, stay in touch though,"
"That's not a good idea," she replied dashing any hopes of a future reconciliation," it could have worked James, but." she left the word hanging, as a large Trevor sized car drove up outside our house.
I never hit Trevor, I was positively polite, "The best man won" he goaded.
"Look after her" I requested, and he looked surprised when her realised I meant it.
"Sure." he sort of agreed,
Things moved very fast, the house sold, I shifted to a rented flat over an empty shop and also rented a double garage out the back for my bike and the van, and I sort of moved in.
I found myself starting to stake out the flat where I saw Kate that night, hanging around there between shouts, waiting for calls on the mobile phone.
She didn't live there, but I saw her arrive one evening, I recognised the Taxi she came in and ten pounds to the driver elicited her home address, well the block she was collected from.
I checked it out, very expensive, five hundred thousand for a shoe box over one million for the penthouse.
I thought of how to get even, then I decided life is too short.
I sort of spiralled down, a drink after work became a good idea, except the smell of failure sort of clings, driving away friends for fear failure will rub off on them so I started to drink alone, then I had an accident on the bike, I got hit by a moron in an Astra, T boned at a junction, right in the side, Painful. He claimed he did not see me, of course my breath smelt, or was it my tee shirt I never did get to bed the previous night so the coppers were called and I was breathalysed, Thirty three when the Limit is thirty five,
"You were well pissed at eight laddie." the copper informed me as they arrived to be a damn nuisance.
The bike was a mess.
I called Leroy, explained I was off the road. He was real concerned. "I'll hire you a bike man."
"My legs too bloody painful, I'll get Dave to fix the bike but I guess it will be a week or so before I'm riding again."
"I'll pick you up from Dave's right, say an hour?"
"Yes, but why?"
"I'll tell later." he reassured me.
He did as promised, and he took me through into the old Chemists shop.
"Look, man, we both know what's going down, I can trust you, you never stole or lost nothing ever."
The shop was littered with abandoned counters and shelves scattered around, but the back room showed clear signs of recent activity.
"We test every consignment for quality."
"I don't want to know." I told him.
"Then we cut, like adjust, the strength for consistency, every fix that leaves here is consistent to within ten per cent, no body ever OD on my shit."
"Look, no offence."
"You think I want to do this, three years at university for this?" he continued.
I looked at him through new eyes.
"Yeah, right," he continued, "I ain't no drop out, but I need someone I can trust."
"I got this girl and we going to Grand Canaria for a spell, holiday, and I need someone to run the operation for me."
"Right, fall guy."
"You may think that, but what do you say, I'll make up plenty of stock ready, and you just handle the distribution, find trustworthy guys to ride the bikes, you know."
"Ten grand, and free use of the girls"
"Ten grand and the pick of my portfolio, you know about the girls surely?"
"Gee Ten Grand.?"
"A week, three weeks."
I had to sit down.
"Right listen up," he continued, "this business is all about quality control" he paused, "I supply a consistent product to trusted clients, some bulk, some local, but you know that."
"Raw shit comes in, I test it for consistency and quality, blend it, like cut it." He explained, like some Carribean Chemistry teacher,
"What? I thought it was Heroin."
"No, It's a sedative, licensed for use on horses, comes as powder and supposed to be swallowed, but when injected it's far more potent, and if used with H it sort of amplifies and magnifies H's effect," He paused to let the information sink in.
"But I figured how to mimic the effect with shall we say an over the counter drug, so what we have is a blend of a legal licensed equestrian drug and an over the counter non preion drug, blended with inert powder and a touch of sulphuric acid., it's shit, grade A but no way class A".
"Right," I agreed.
"It's safe to handle without face masks or gloves but don't lick your fingers!" he suggested
"There's type A product in the tins with red tops, the figure in black pen shows I tested it and the purity or strength. 100% is my baseline not 100% pure. Shit B is in Green tins, again marked up after I test it. Athletes use Shit B at 5% for some things, it's pretty much undetectable two weeks after use, so the yellow is for them, Blue is First cut thats about 15% pure, for break bulk out in the sticks and we don't do much 5% which is Purple but thats serious users only, and then White or Clear which is for the local users which is about 0.5%." he continued, "You got that?"
"Amber is the sedative at 2.5% for injecting, It works a bit like Rohipnol and some of the girls like to use it to help them relax, Frank deals with that any questions?
"You say its cut, what with?"
"It's cut with inert powder, from glass fibre kits, with some sulphuric acid to get the taste right, again, quality control, see the pigs know my gear is good, zero OD rate, even they think its Heroin, but thats why they leave me alone, some folks supply zero per cent one day, so the poor sucker don't get no high so he uses more next time and gets twenty per cent, Cardiac arrest here he come."
"I spend sixty quid on ingredients which equal gear which when imported costs sixty thousand wholesale."
"Fucking hell thats one hell of a mark up." I suggested in shock.
"That's why I need someone to trust, the importers have to think I get my gear from them through a intermediary. I can't afford either a break in supply or a fuck up."
I could see the care Leroy put into this enterprise, the sheer professionalism of the enterprise
"Its all about trust, I can't afford to be busted so I need someone to trust to keep things ticking over."
"OK," I signed up just like that.
He showed me the drain cover, A chamber six feet deep and four feet square with water in the bottom, but he pulled up a lower lid and the water rushed away revealing a twenty foot deep shaft with hand holds down to the sewer far below. "Escape route, just dump the gear." he explained. "Turn left and climb the third ladder, but it comes out in the road so beware."
He laughed. "I'll leave everything here, so just tip it away and leg it, but like I said the pigs are cool."
I hung around the office, and did a few local deliveries in the van, that's when I found that Kate lived at Thirty Three, She came to the door, she glared at me and announced "You're late," and slammed the door in my face.
The girl operation was run by Frank, they amused me, simpering idiot bimbos, yet catch them unawares and their calculating grasping cynical natures shone through, some guys paid for an hour and staggered away after ten minutes, drained.
Janice, peroxide hair, silicon tits, barely five foot and pushing forty, Mia, illegal immigrant, Polish, they worked the attic rooms and a bevy of worn out hags came and went for out calls.
Leroy's vacation was coming up, Frank shifted the girl operation to a flat in St John's wood, and left me to do the break bulk, basically addressing pre-packed Jiffy bags and sending them off, and then I was in charge.
I took a call, "Usual Thirty Three, Rachmann Towers" it was Kate, "Can I have three lots only I'm going away on holiday?" on holiday, yes why not I thought, bloody enjoy yourself you bitch.
"I guess," I replied. "Are you sure?, I'll have to ask for cash"
"Yes OK cash."
A plan formed, I would deliver it myself, I knew the pricing structure, I just falsified the entry, not to cheat Leroy but to cover the difference between the 2.5% sedatives and the
0.5% regular supplies she was expecting, the thought of her sleeping away her expensive holiday was a great pick me up.
A party was in full swing when I arrived, she handed the cash to me without a flicker of recognition and took the Jiffy bag, I just walked away, back to the van.
The calls stopped around midnight, I sent a few items with couriers and cab drivers, then I put the answer phone on and went to see how the party was going at No 33.
I took the stairs and when I reached her landing I saw her door was open, a trail of vomit led to the lift while inside the flat I could see people sprawled around over the expensive designer furniture, blood and vomit smeared around bore mute testimony to the fact something was badly wrong, and as I stepped inside the flat I saw Kate slumped in her easy chair her head resting against the wall, I saw our Jiffy bag on the side board and I quickly checked and stuffed it and the three little plastic bags it contained inside my jacket.
I looked around, rich over privileged idiots suffering the after effects of their high, I guessed they had mixed E or something with the sedative with unpredictable results, I found a girl sprawled on a bed her expensive gown round her waist her breasts exposed. a trouser-less man beside her peering intently and in apparent disbelief at his flaccid penis, another couple sat together against a wall watching with mild disinterest as I stepped over their legs.
There were others sprawled around, but Kate seemed just to be resting, it seemed wrong somehow, I saw cases near the door, a coat placed over them, an airline envelope presumably containing her tickets protruded from a pocket, I went across and checked them, a scheduled flight, check in 06 00, tomorrow, well today, her handbag was beside her, it made sense she was planning to sleep on the plane, she would party all night and then fly.
I sat down, among the zombie like party-goers, they seemed incapable of anything coherent and I realised I had got it very wrong, I thought she and she alone would be affected, but seeing her seemingly just resting I decided to take some action, it seemed obvious, at the time. First I took her cases to the lift, then helped her to the door, she seemed totally confused, but she offered no resistance, I pressed for the lift, thankfully it was empty when it arrived, I found a clean vomit free corner and put the cases inside then I helped her in and propped her in a corner before I pushed the button for ground floor.
The door whoosh-ed shut and the lift started to descend, she leaned against me, and breathed in my face, the stench of vomit in her breath was revolting, then she started to throw up. I held her as the disgusting cocktail of pizza and alcohol gushed across the lift floor.
The van was parked jut yards away from the Foyer entrance doors and as the lift door opened I could see it in the distance, I guided her through the automatic doors, half carried her to the van and then collected her luggage.
I left her and went back to check the flat, rushing up the stairs three at a time, but now neighbours were clustering around the flat. a girl was banging on someone's door, two men nearby were squaring up drunkenly, one bleeding gently from a cut eyebrow.
"I've called the Police." one older lady told me.
"Best Idea, " I replied as I continued to the top floor before coming back down in the lift.
I just got back to the van just in time as the police arrived, but they ignored us as they simply strode right past us, intent on checking the building, so I simply drove away.
I took her back to the "Office." I stacked the cases in the corner then I went back to the van and helped her across the pavement the door and then I half helped and half carried her up the stairs to the office. I sat her in a chair. She was completely oblivious to events around her, she didn't seem to know or care about anything, then she started giggling.
I heard voices from upstairs, I realised we were not alone, I left Kate and went to the stairwell , I head footsteps, someone was moving about, A girl giggled, a man growled playfully and then the rhythmic thud of bed against wall told its own tale.
I had a brainwave there was CCTV cameras in the upstairs rooms, I had heard Frank had filmed punters and flogged the film to some porn Video outfit, so I switched on the camera from his control panel and selected the feed from the bedroom.
The screen showed a girl and her punter, she was lying on the bed face down, he was energetically thrusting into her, his jacket laid across the chair and trousers around his ankles. it was hardly beautiful or erotic but gee did that guy have some energy. I smiled and checked the other camera feeds, the rest of the place seemed deserted and I checked for answer phone messages but there were none.
I waited until the "Gentleman" left and confronted the girl as she came back up the stairs.
"Shit," she squealed, "I thought you went home,"
"No, I did a delivery, and"
"Who's that bitch," she squealed, "this is my patch!" but she stopped when she saw Kate was taking no notice of her.
"No, it's not like that." I assured her.
"What have you done to her?" she sounded genuinely concerned.
"It's a long story," I told her, "but she had more than she intended."
"Shit Leroy will kill you," she reminded me.
"I'm going to keep an eye on her, so no harm done?" I explained.
"Right?" she said as if she didn't believe a word.
"Look," I told her, "I wanted to make her suffer, ok, make her feel bad, get even for the way she treated me."
"I thought it was hell has no fury like a woman scorned," she quoted, "not a man."
"No," I sort of blushed, "it was business."
"So what happened?" she asked curiously.
"I suppose, I don't know, I never planned anything." I sort of explained, " She was all packed to go away, and."
The girl was reaching for Kate's handbag, but she spotted the envelope in Kate's coat pocket, and pulled it out, "Its a ticket, return, today." she announced.
I stared at it, then I checked her handbag, the reservations. a hotel, in Las Vegas, a break in the US it all sounded curious.
It was all there passport credit cards.
"I always wanted to travel." she said sadly.
She looked so sweet, I remembered the image of her with the guy upstairs.
"Why not travel then?" I suggested.
"What?" she asked.
"Travel," I suggested.
"I don't have a passport." she observed.
I looked at her then at Kate.
"You don't look that different, how about a bit of identity fraud, she can live here for a while."
She looked at me as if trying to decide.
"Leroy said you were a real one off, can I trust you?"
"Can I trust you?" I asked.
Kate was completely bemused confused, out of it.
"Shall we get her upstairs?" the girl asked.
"Yes." I helped Kate to climb the stairs and said it was bed time, she did not resist as we pulled her black dress over her shoulders her and laid her on the stained mattress.
"Its all here." I announced, "ah, sorry I don't know your name."
"Call me what ever you want, but it's Angie usually."
"Well here's the bags, tickets, credit cards, do you want to fly?" I asked.
"Yes, but hell, its one hell of a thing." she seemed scared, "but whats in it for you."
"Satisfaction, seeing her lose her holiday. I don't know," I said, "Seeing you have a good time, hey try her clothes on,"
She picked up the black dress and slipped it over her head over her tee shirt and miniskirt, it fitted quite well.
"Just leave her your skirt and top, what do you think?" I suggested.
"Hey, what about money?" Angie asked.
"I'll sub you two hundred in case the credit cards wont work," I promised, "But that looks like a list of pin numbers in her purse."
She stared at me, "Yes, why not," she kissed my cheek, "I'll pay you back."
"Stay there if you want, don't worry about me." I said, "I just figured how she can earn a few pounds for me." I pointed at the now sleeping Kate.
Angie tried Kate's shoes, they were tight but not too tight and her bra, tight, obscenely tight almost, their appearance was not too different but who would be looking at her face with her tits thrust up like this?
"I'll call you a cab, its four thirty and check in is six."
It was that simple Angie became effectively Kate with Kate's passport and documents, tickets and reservations and Kate became Angie. It all seemed fine and logical as I carried the cases to the cab, "Talk Posh" I advised as she climbed into the cab and the cabbies eyes nearly popped out as he stared down her cleavage, and then I was heading back inside. watching her waving as they headed into traffic.
I tried to sleep but Kate started getting vocal so I gave her a little dose of sedative, I sort of guessed the dose but she went to sleep again.
She slept right through, all day, every time she woke I gave her another injection, I reduced the dose this time I gave her some water and some dry bread, but she just stared in confusion, and ate and drank like an automaton, then I took her to the bathroom, and finally let her sleep.
I was getting bored with watching her on the CCTV when I got a call.
"Is Angie working?" he asked. I had a wicked thought.
"No but Kate is here, she's about as lively as a dead fish, cheap though."
"What's cheap." he asked.
"Depends," I said, "I guess anything you want for fifty."
"How about twenty?"
"Yeah, thats OK, before eight though, off peak." I joked.
He came right over, a big guy six foot two, two hundred pounds and she barely registered it as I showed him in to the room with her, she did not protest, he didn't care, I suggested she might be HIV so he grabbed a condom but pretty soon she was naked and I was watching the CCTV in the Office as he pulled the bra off of her and played with her tits for a while before he laid her on the bed and pried her legs apart and then his ass was bobbing around between her thighs as he pounded into her.
He left twenty quid on the bedside table.
I let her rest a while, she got up and went to the bathroom, then went back to the bedroom and lay down again.
Another guy asked for Angie, but he wasn't interested in Kate, only Angie would do, then another who also lost interest when told Angie was not around but the third agreed to try Kate instead so he came on over, a black guy skinny well spoken, he just wanted straight from behind and paid fifty pounds for the privilege, he just shifted her around like a doll until he could get his nine inches or so of black meat between her wet pink lips. he got some vocals from her but she hardly seemed to realise what was going down.
There was a steady stream of orders and the bike couriers and Taxis came and went, and between calls some of Angie's clients who she had cheekily told she was working from here temporarily, rang to book her.
It was steady trade, Kate was averaging about one an hour, fifty quid a time, from ten till three in the morning.
I watched it on the CCTV, I made sure I recorded it on a CD, she looked so bewildered as the guys pinned her down and took their pleasure, no look of desire, or the ecstasy of orgasm. just a lack of comprehension.
I kept her supplied for the first week then I started to wait until she got quite noisy before I gave her another fix, but, she started to resist, it was fun watching guys slap her around, I sometimes went in if she got argumentative, "Look the man' s paid so fuck him," I told her.
I watched this big black guy trying to fuck her ass, she screamed "no," but Angie had left some lube and the guy was determined, but with his huge, well wide if short, prick he couldn't get it in, he just took her from behind in the end.
"What happened to me?" she asked plaintively one evening, I had gone in to collect her earnings.
"You crossed the wrong bastard." I told her.
"But my job?" she asked.
"What job?" I asked innocently.
"With the Bank?" she asked.
"That was years ago, you were fired when you got caught stealing to fund your habit,don't you remember, you owe Leroy big time so that's why you're here, paying him back the only way a useless bitch like you can."
"I'm sorry." she said.
"No need to be sorry," I told her, "You just please the punters."
"It's all a blank." she admitted.
"Just do anal, you can get an extra twenty quid," I suggested, I knew there were toys around and I found a dildo and a butt plug in the other upstairs room.
It was pitiful watching her trying to sink down on that dildo, stretching her little puckered ass so it would swallow that butt plug, she practised between customers, in fact she didn't have so much spare time as she was becoming popular, human zombie they called her, she just lay there and let guys do it and they liked that, no chat, no "Harder," no orgasms, just a piece of meat to fuck.
She managed anal after a few days, she still looked pretty good so I stopped her using the bathroom, I wanted her to stink, one guy came in her hair and I would not let her wash it, she started to hate me, it was a real good feeling.
She only had Angie's skirt and tee shirt and her panties, and Angie's bra so I let them get messed up as well so she had nothing, she was in a bad way, I reckon she was just about suicidal and would have cut herself, if she had something sharp, she was so desperately unhappy but I found a ball gag and made her bite on it and strapped it round her head to shut her up, then I tied to the bed frame and she came to know she was at rock bottom.
I give her fixes of the 0.5% mix she had originally ordered.
"I really fucking hate you, you bastard." she told me one morning as I fed her some dry toast for her breakfast.
"I hate you too." I told her.
"You wanted a business loan." she said.
"You remembered, fucking wonderful." I agreed
"For a motorbike," she added.
"Great," I agreed.
"I didn't like you,"
"Wonderful," I agreed.
"You were so," she said enigmatically, "I don't know."
"Determined, desperate?" I suggested.
"No, but I remember now," she suggested.
"It's time I fucked you." I suggested.
"What will that prove?" she asked.
"That I can," I explained.
"I know you can." she admitted.
"It will sort of close the loop for me," I explained.
"Before you kill me?" she asked, "Because believe me if I ever get out of here you will rot in jail"
"Yes, something like that," I agreed.
I tied her up again, there was some orange juice downstairs, and some honey, I brought it up, I let her drink the juice and I smeared honey on my fingers and had her lick it off, then I wiped my hands in her filthy hair. It was too much she started crying, sobbing so I shoved the gag back in her mouth and tied her to the bed again.
I ran the bath, the water was lukewarm, "Time to drown," I told her as I cut the tape holding her to the bed and fastened her hands behind her back.
I went downstairs and made sure all the doors were locked, then I stripped down to my underpants, before I dragged her to the bath.
I put her in face down she struggled for a while then I tipped a bottle of shampoo over her head and started to wash her hair as I drowned her, she struggled deliciously.
I turned her over and turned both taps on full, he water level rose higher and I waited until she tried to sit up to keep her mouth and nose above water then I held her down, I took off my underpants to keep them dry and climbed in with her, I let her breathe a bit then a I forced her knees apart I tried to get my shaft in her, the bath was too narrow, I couldn't get the angle, my hips and her knees competed for the same space, so I pushed her head under water.
Little bubbles emerged, she was getting desperate, I bent my head, dipped below the surface and clamping my mouth over hers I blew some air into her, she coughed furiously, I let her sit up, then as she recovered I pushed her down again, under the surface, I waited until she had to breathe out once again then tried blowing air into her lungs again, she breathed it in gratefully, it felt good, I realised I needed to fuck her, so I dragged her from the bath by her hair.
I picked her up and put her down on the mat beside the bath, her arms were in the way so I unwrapped the tape from her wrists, she seemed relieved, she spread her legs wide and sneaked a finger to her sex as I lay down over her.
She grabbed my manhood and guided in in her as I took the weight on my elbows and dipped my head down to kiss her. our wet skins stuck together.
"This is fucking hopeless." I told her, my prick was about half in her and we just stuck together.
I kissed her mouth again, invaded it, raped her mouth with my tongue, it felt good, she coughed, it was weird, I managed to get my erection a bit further inside her.
She was very scared, I gave up trying to screw her scrambled to my feet and threw her a towel.
"You might as well dry yourself." I told her.
She was shaking, it must have been fear, the heating was on it was not cold, her hair hung like a shapeless mass.
"You ought to have your tits done." I told her, "Get some implants." I dried myself off then gave her a hand to dry her soggy mass of hair.
"There is a hair dryer in there, somewhere." I told her, as I walked away, she followed me slowly to the other room and sat down on the bed, I found the dryer and plugged it in, she yelped when it was too hot, but it was quite intimate working with a comb and the dryer and soon it was nice and dry.
"You might as well head home now." I suggested.
"What?" she asked incredulously.
"Go home," I reiterated.
She stared at me wide eyed. "Please, don't do this."
"Go home," I told her.
"Look you can do what you want to me," she pleaded, "Please."
"No I'm serious, go home," I said again.
"But I need something," she said, "I'm bloody desperate look I'm shaking."
Well it was there on a plate, she was sitting on the edge of the bed knees parted, her sex glistening, her hair shining, and she seemed relieved grateful even, she just wanted to please me and she had benefited from lots of practice over the past few days.
"It's all right, you can stay." I told her as manhandled her up the bed before I enjoyed sliding into the smooth slippery delights of her sex. "Do you like it?" I asked her.
"Yes," she agreed.
"Tell me, what do you want?" I asked.
"Nooo," she moaned.
I had to admit she was very good, excellent even, I realised I was smiling at her.
"Its ninety nine percent inert powder, you're an inert powder junkie," I laughed.
"No oh god." she moaned, and then I was cumming, the tingling in my balls and shooting my load in her, it felt good, real good.
I lay still a while, running my fingers through her hair.
"I guess I better find you something to wear," I told her, "What size are you."
She told me, I wrote it down, "I still need something." she explained.
I headed down town, I just grabbed some stuff the first things I came to in M & S sort of a blouse thing and some Levis and stockings and underwear and shoes and a Jacket thing, and I felt a complete prat standing in line at the checkout.
The cashier looked at me like I was a total pervert and I could not escape quick enough, but pretty soon I was back, and she was dressing, she looked so sexy as she pulled those pull ups on, a pity she was going to hide them under Levis, then gradually she changed, no longer a slut but somehow more desirable.
"I'll take you home," I explained, she just could not get her head around the idea that she was going home, even when I showed her that I had her door key she seemed unable to accept it,
We drove round to her block in the Van, the place looked fine, all evidence of the vomit cleared from lift and corridors but the flat itself stunk to high heaven, I opened the windows but it was hopeless.
"I'll move in with you for a while" she said flatly. No "may I" just a flat assertion. she grabbed her post from the door mat and grabbed a few things from bedroom and bathroom and told me to drive her home.
"Fine, it will be handy having something to fuck, and clean the place." I agreed.
She seemed surprised when I took her to my place, she disappeared into the bedroom and stowed her stuff then she spent time sorting through her mail.
I left her alone and headed back to the office, I had it open and the accounts squared when Leroy rolled in just before nine and I told him everything was cool. He quizzed me about what had gone down but the stock and receipts balanced, and when I told him I needed a break he agreed I should head home.
She was asleep in my bed when I got in, in her own nightdress, all perfumed and desirable.
She woke up, "Are you coming to bed." It was like having a wife.
"No I want to do it on the floor." I told her. "Get me some food first." but as I said it I was climbing on the bed, I got undressed real quick.
"Mmm you smell wonderful." I complemented her as I kissed her, but I went down from mouth to chin to breasts with my kisses and before I knew it my head was down there between her legs and I was pleasuring her, listening for her little gasps, wanting to prove I could make her cum, as if it was important.
She started getting vocal, "yes, Ooh," all those sort of noises and pretty soon the juices were flowing real nice so I gave the old penis a gallop, she really seemed to appreciate it, she was smiling at me, "You have such broad shoulders," she complimented me then we stopped talking and got on with the serious business. Little beads of sweat were breaking out on her forehead, as I eased in and out of her, she seemed to be enjoying the experience instead of trying to make me cum and get it over like with her customers and then I was losing it and pumping her full of cum again.
We lay in each others arms, for a while. "I'm due back from the states today, aren't I."
"There never was any losing my job," she observed, "You just drugged me and had me raped?"
"Yes, but it's over, you can go back home.," I suggested.
"You don't understand," she said, "It's not that simple."
"Why not?" I asked.
"I wasn't coming back," she replied.
"What!" I demanded.
"I was going to stay with my Aunt in Detroit," she said, "I'm in trouble at work."
"I'm listening." I told her.
"I did something silly, and it will all become clear on settlement day. that's next Thursday."
My mind went into overdrive.
"So what?" I asked
"Instant dismissal, I suppose," she said, "I'll never get a job in banking again."
"What about the flat?" I asked.
"I can't afford the rent with no job," she pointed out.
"But as a high class call girl, you have an aptitude?" I suggested.
She stared at me wide eyed. "Oh god no."
"Get your nose and tits done." I suggested
"No, I can't," she stated firmly.
"Yes you can," I told her, "I have the videos of you doing just that."
"Can't I stay with you, until I straighten myself out?" she pleaded.
I turned things over in my mind, it made little sense.
"Why not resign, and become a high class whore." I suggested, "Before they can dismiss you."
"I said no." she said firmly.
"But that flat, your clothes, that is Angie's dream," I suggested "how about the swap becomes permanent, you're clever, you, well we, could surely build some business together, I think Angie has a driving License."
"That's one hell of a prospect," she said.
"But in time, look if Angie is caught, she takes the rap as herself, she can legitimately use a false name, hookers do, you just lie low, disappear off the radar, earn and spend cash," I suggested.
"Better still I'll just stay with you and play housewife," she offered with a grin.
"In your dreams!" I laughed, and her grin vanished, "You're serious?" I asked.
"Just until I get back on my feet," she asked.
"What?" I had to sit down.
"I won't be any trouble," she offered.
"I don't know," I said uncertainly.
"You're getting hard again," she reminded me, "Do you want to review the offer?"
"Why not?" I agreed.
Her hands slipped to my penis and guided me towards her softness once more, "Make love to me," she said.