EXCERPT She was blond, and wore the uniform of the tourist industry, a kind of
cross between naval and policewoman, and she shut the door as soon as Mike was
inside. She went to her desk and sat down, looking cheerful. “What can I do
for you today, Mr. …?”
“You can call me Mike … Leah.” He knew her name from her uniform
nametag, just beside her chest, which was bulging and open several buttons.
“All right, Mike,” she said, with a British accent.
“I`m from Canada … I`m here on a trade mission, but I just thought I`d
stop by the tourist bureau first.”
“You`d like to see a bit of our country before you leave,” said Leah. “I
can advise you on some of the sights.” She stood up and went to the counter to
get some pamphlets. “Here`s one,” she said, handing him a picture of a prison
door. “This is the London Jail, just a few blocks from here. It`s a very
popular tourist attraction.” She went around her desk and sat down, and opened
a drawer and took out a pair of handcuffs. “You should try wearing these,” she
giggled. “It`ll get you in the mood.”
“Actually,” Mike said, “I`m not here to see about the popular sights.
It`s another reason.”
Leah dropped the handcuffs, confused. “That`s all I`m here for, though.”
She straightened her hat, picked up the handcuffs, and continued, sitting
straight. “You can still make it to the jail this afternoon, I think. Here …
you really should try putting these on. It`s good preparation. Go on … it`s
fun.” She stood up, her skirt opening a bit as she walked around the desk,
holding out the old shackles. “These are almost from the turn of the last
century, see how well they work? Try them on, why don`t you?”
“I really came here for another reason,” Mike said.
“Go on,” Leah said, standing in front of him. “Be a good sport.”
“All right,” he said, putting his arms out.
“There,” she said, snapping them shut. Then she stood up, taking a step
back and to the side.
He sat in his chair, his wrists chained together. “Okay, I`ve humoured
you. There`s something I need to talk to you about. Could you please take them
off?”
She went to the window and closed the blind. She turned, taking off her
hat, letting her long hair fall, and she looked suddenly more serious. “Why did
you come here?”
He was beginning to suspect that she wasn`t what she said she was. Why
did she close the blind, to the second story office? And why did she take off
her hat all of a sudden? She seemed like less of a cartoon character, the
friendly British tour guide, and more sinister. She straightened her jacket,
but didn`t try to hide anything. Her chest was jutting out as she gained
control. “I`ve had far too many Canadians come into my office, saying that they
want to see tourist attractions. I`ve had far too many vermin, coming here,
wasting my time. Why did you really come to my place?”
She walked over to him, grabbed his hair, and pulled his head back. “Why
did you come here?” she whispered in his ear. She held his hair roughly,
keeping him staring up at a strange angle.
It was uncomfortable. He couldn`t do much except try to elbow her. He
breathed harder, while she hovered over him, so he could hear her breathing.
“Didn`t you come here because there`s something bad happening in your country,
and you`re afraid to tell the Canadians. So you thought you`d come here and
mention it to us? You thought you`d come running to me, saying, Oh, there`s
something I have to tell you!”
She stood up, letting his hair go, putting her hands on her hips for a
moment, and then she went over to the counter, and came back with a whip! It
was black, slender, and had a rubbery tip. Where was it hiding before? It
hadn`t been there before, he thought. She put it on the desk in front of
him.
He started to get up out of the chair, but she grabbed his hair and
pushed him back down.
“Uh ah,” she said. She kept a firm grip on his hair at the back.
“I don`t have to stay if I don`t want to,” said Mike. “All I need is the
key to these cuffs. Please tell me where it is.”
She laughed a cold laugh. “If you did find the key to the shackles,
where would you go?” Then she reached roughly and opened his hands in his lap,
grabbing the whip, and crashing it into his open palm. He recoiled, closing his
hand. The sudden stinging practically made his gasp … she put the whip on the
desk. “That`s for trying to stand up.”
He looked at his palm, and decided to remain seated. For the moment, he
thought.
“That`s more like it,” Leah said. She picked up the whip, and started
slapping her palm gently, much softer than his own, but hard enough to remind
him of the sound. She walked around the floor with her elevated heels. She
leaned against the counter, finally, after taking off her jacket. “Scream if
you want. Go ahead.”
Now her white top was thrust out. He glanced at her and noticed that she
was large breasted.
“It`s just you and I … no one can hear you scream … the house is empty.
Now, let`s get to it, shall we?”
“Get to what?”
She came over to him, holding the whip. But instead of hitting him, she
put it on the desk. She reached down and tugged at the chain connecting his
wrists, feeling the handcuffs, showing him he was trapped.
She opened his hand, the one she had hit. She ran her fingers over the
red mark. She moved her hands to his neck, and left them there. Finally, she
ran her fingers through his hair. Then she grabbed the whip from the desk while
pulling his head back.
“I can take off your clothes, if you like,” she said, seeing his hands
closed tight. “Would you like me to fuck you up the ass?”
He shook his head. He kept his hands closed.
“Then tell me what you came to tell me,” she said. “You came running to
this place.” She stood over him, waiting. Finally she said, “You came here to
tell me that the police got the wrong man, and now he`s in prison in Canada for
killing an American. No one wants to admit it. Rather than say they got the
wrong man they`re just going to let him sit in prison, and no one will listen to
you.”
“They did DNA testing,” Mike said. “How did you find out?” He had told
one person on the trade mission … Larry. He shouldn`t have trusted him,
obviously. “I haven`t told anyone.”
“Are you sure? Then you shouldn`t have told Larry. You shouldn`t tell
anyone this sort of thing.” Then she reached for the legs of his chair and
pulled them out, so he fell on the floor. Then she began to undress him, while
he lay there helpless on his side.
She opened his pants, and worked them down his body roughly. She was
very strong, and she pulled them down his thighs, and gave him a few smacks on
his ass with the whip. They were hard enough to make him still. Then she tore
his shirt open at the front. She lifted him onto his knees, his shirt open. He
faced the window, sitting on his feet. She put the whip on the desk. The slaps
to his buttocks were shocking. He looked at her, standing before him, and he
felt completely vulnerable. She straightened her shirt, professionally. He was
naked from the waist down, kneeling in front of her, in shackles.
“I get so many like you,” Leah said. “Well, let me tell you something.
You come here, expecting that someone`s going to care, to listen to you about
this guy who`s stuck in prison, because he doesn`t belong there, after he`s been
in prison for a decade, and you`re the only person who really cares. So you
thought you`d come and tell me? Why do I care what happens in Canada, anyway?
Don`t you think I`ve got my own problems? I`m just a tour hostess, for heaven`s
sake!”
Mike glanced at her. He felt afraid. With her feet slightly apart,
hands on her hips, she wasn`t done with him, her language said. He felt afraid
of what would happen to him, though.
“What do you have to say for yourself, then?”
“I wasn`t expecting it to go like this,” he said. “That`s for sure.” He
looked at her. Now, he wondered why he cared about the man wrongly accused of
murdering an American so much himself. He had cared so much, he had come to
England and slipped away from his Canadian group, thinking he`d find some way of
passing the secret without getting in too much trouble, and now he was
definitely in trouble.
“I thought maybe there would be someone over here that cares … but I see
that you don`t. Can I please go? Now I know you don`t care.”
“But I don`t think you do, or why would you have come?”
“It was just an afterthought, really. Perhaps you could unlock me,” he
said.
“I don`t think so.” She walked around him, slowly, her shoes knocking on
the floor. She stopped behind him. She was right behind him, he thought. And
there was no one else in the plain looking house they chose to put the office in
… just the two of them. He waited for her to grab his hair and pull his head
back, but she stood in silence, and he was strangely aroused. The next moment,
though, he forgot it when her shoe pushed into his back, and she kicked him
forward, so he was forced to land on his hands. He stood on his hands and
knees, his wrists chained very narrowly, but he kept his balance, at least. It
seemed like an eternity, but it was only a few seconds, until she hit him on the
buttocks. He jolted, and then she hit him again. SMACK. SMACK. SMACK.
“What do you think we do here?” she asked, bringing a searing pain every
time she applied the whip to his backside. “You think we`re waiting for the
Canadians to come on a trade mission … so one of them can sneak off? Sneak off
and tell me about the prison system? I`ll tell you something,” she said,
whipping him again, making him blind with wrenching pain, and he knew nothing
else but the pain for another few seconds, “I get sick of describing the tourist
attractions, including the jail just a few blocks away.”
She came around, and put her hand on his forehead and pushed him back
roughly. “Sneaking off to tell someone about it,” she said, standing over him,
while he sat on his feet.
He looked at her, feeling ashamed for sneaking off from his trade mission
… she seemed completely right at that moment. It was such a ludicrous thing to
do! “You`re right,” he said.
“You thought you`d find someone to confide in, someone to tell your
secret.”
“Yes … I realize how silly I was.” He struggled to stay in that
position, with all that pain back there. He nearly lost his balance, but stayed
up.
“Sorry? Is that all you`ve got to say for yourself?” She straightened
her shirt, and then decided to take it off, rather than try to push it into her
skirt … she took it off, wearing a sturdy bra to hold onto those massive jugs …
she was more comfortable, free to move as she pleased, to hit him if she liked,
and move him any way she wanted. He looked at the thick bra as she turned,
putting her blouse on the counter.
She was powerful looking, now turning around, in her bra and her skirt.
She kept her shoes.
He felt afraid, but still aroused. He didn`t want to find out what she
had planned, but some part of him did want to know what she had in store. On
the other hand, he felt like falling, on his side.
“May I please go now?”
“I don`t think you`re sorry,” Leah said, looking at him kneeling before
her. He had his shirt, though it was torn open. He could pull up his trousers
and run away, still.
“What would convince you?”
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