From an154298@anon.penet.fi Thu Nov 17 17:59:55 1994 Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories From: an154298@anon.penet.fi (Aquilifer) X-Anonymously-To: alt.sex.stories Organization: Anonymous contact service Reply-To: an154298@anon.penet.fi Date: Tue, 15 Nov 1994 23:34:27 UTC Subject: New Chapt: Song of the Clarinet, ch2, (Mf, viol, nc, rape, torture, bd) Here is the second chapter of Song of the Clarinet. Enjoy. YOUR COMMENTS AND CONSTRUCTIVE CRITICISMS ARE WELCOMED. You can post to alt.sex.stories.d with subject as "Re: Song of the Clarinet" You can also e-mail me at an154298@anon.penet.fi - Aquilifer PS: Yes, I had a pen-name as Hangman, but the anon server informed me that someone is already using Hangman as his/her nickname, so... WARNING! WARNING! WARNING! THE STORY BELOW CONTAINS THE FOLLOWING SUBJECTS: VIOLENCE, NON-CONSENTUAL SEX, RAPE, TORTURE, BONDAGE / DOMINATION (Mf, violence, nc, rape, torture, b/d) IF YOU ARE OFFENDED BY THESE SUBJECTS, PLEASE DO NOT READ. IF YOU ARE UNDER 21, PLEASE DO NOT READ. IF YOU MIGHT FLAME ME AFTER READING THIS, PLEASE DO NOT READ. THE REST OF YOU - ENJOY. COMMENTS AND CONSTRUCTIVE CRITICISMS ARE WELCOMED. (Please post to alt.sex.stories.d, with subject as title of the story or e-mail to me at an154298@anon.penet.fi) Note 1 Dedications Thanks to all all those who wrote and posted on the alt.sex.stories newsgroup. In addition, this story is very much a product of the inspiration from the following works: the GOR novels by John Norman "For Sale by Owner" by Anonymous the movie "Waxwork" issue of Playboy's Nudes (Dec 1992) Note 2 Copyrights The story below is copyright by the author. You may freely distribute the text electronically, as long as you include the disclaimer, the by-line, the title, and the notes. All similarities between the contents of the text and real life people are coincidental. The author in no ways condones the contents of the text - such things are illegal and would get you in serious trouble if you attempt it - SO DON'T. Note 3 Abbreviated Foreward The story is set in the future, approximately twenty years >from now. It is about an innocent young woman being abducted and abused. Some portions of the story are extremely brutal and sadistic. Some portions of the story are slow and heavily descriptive, so please be patient. Song of the Clarinet by Aquilifer Chapter 2 The Exit "Eat!" Horoun commanded. Cristy's face was thrust down, into the wooden trough filled with moist gruel. The hand of one of her keepers was in her hair. Cristy opened her mouth. Desperately, with her teeth, lips, and tongue, she tried to get as much gruel into her mouth as she could. Suddenly, her head was pulled up and painfully held back by her hair. Cristy swallowed what she had in her mouth. The stuff was tasteless, flat, but she swallowed it nonetheless. The keeper laughed and let go of her. Cristy sighed in relief, a droplet of tear sliding down from the corner of her eye. She pulled a little, feeling the manacles that locked her wrists behind her back. Her knees felt cold kneeling on the floor. Cristy shivered as she felt the cold metal of a goad touching her bared back. Obediently, she bends forward again to feed from the trough like an animal. It has been nearly a month after Cristy was abducted, raped, and started living in a steel cage like an animal. Two days after they had surgically altered her and addicted her to the drug memnoc, Cristy was started on her training as a slave. The lessons were varied, ranging from learning domestic skills such as cleaning, laundering, and cooking, to cosmetic skills such as make-up, perfume and ornaments, to degrading slave training where she was often beaten and abused. Two keepers are responsible for training Cristy as a slave. Whenever Cristy dared to display the slightest sign of disobedience or disrespect, she was beaten with the goads. The goads are long flexible metal rods that activate the pain inducers embedded in her nerve centers. A beating with the goad is excruciating yet would never mark her. After a few beatings, Cristy learned to avoid annoying the keepers. They used the goads on her even for the slightest provocation. Beyond the training from the keepers, Cristy was instructed in ballet, modern dancing, and playing the clarinet. Cristy had learned to play the clarinet in her childhood from her father. Her clarinet instructor is a congenial German named Theobald Boehm. After a few sessions, Cristy made the mistake of trying to ask Theobald to help her escape, not realizing that hidden cameras are everywhere. Before she could finish her sentence, the keepers entered the room and dragged Cristy out. Cristy was then confronted with a recording of her conversation then severely beaten. Cristy never saw Theobald again - he was replaced by another. Cristy was bathed twice a day - once in the morning and once before she was put back in her cage for the night. The keepers, being eunuchs, are responsible for bathing her. The keepers' idea of a thorough cleaning includes a humiliating enema and vicious scrubbing and perfuming of her nether regions. Cristy had no choice but to let the keepers do with her body as they please - her attempts at modesty only earn her more beatings with the goad. During the night Cristy was secured in her cage, with her wrists and ankles in chains, before she was left alone. More often than not, Cristy would cry herself to sleep. Sometimes she prayed for deliverance, and sometimes she would try to think of ways to escape. She had tried to escape several times, but each time her attempt failed and she was beaten for it. The hopelessness of her situation makes her wet her pillow with tears. Even as she slept, her captivity haunts her - as she oft dreamed of her terrifying rape and she would cry in her sleep. "How is my little slave doing?" Donatien asked. "Excellent, sir. She has reached her peak physical condition. The dancing lessons have done wonders, and her training proceeds apace." Horoun answered. "That is good. Tell her keepers to send her to me tomorrow night. Make sure she's perfumed and prettied up. And I wish her to stay with me from now on." "Of course, sir." Cristy was soon informed of her impending meeting with her master and that she will soon start to sleep with her master. Cristy panicked at the news. She was hysterical with terror and begged her keepers not to do this. Cristy was told that her pleading was useless. Then, she was beaten for daring to speak without permission. On the appointed day, Cristy was given a thorough cleaning by her keepers with Horoun observing. Her hair and makeup were specially done. In the evening that day, after supper, Cristy found herself walking down the corridor. She was dressed in an elegant black evening gown, with black lace bra and panty, black stockings, and expensive black high heels. A band of silk surrounded her neck, with a steel ring right before her throat. The guards led her down the corridor by a light chain connected to the steel ring at her throat. Cristy was led before a set of double doors she had never seen before, then, as the guard opened the doors, she was gestured to walk in. Trembling, her eyes already brimming with tear, Cristy obeyed. She found Donatien sitting at a dinner table with a large covered plate, a bottle, and a crystal goblet before him. Donatien was dressed in a tuxedo. His well-built figure was accented by the terrific fit of the tuxedo. Donatien sipped at his wine, then smiled at Cristy. "Come here," he called. Still trembling, Cristy obeyed, walking until she stood besides Donatien. "Kneel," Donatien commanded. Cristy obeyed, kneeling besides Donatien. Donatien stood up, turned his chair so he would be sitting facing Cristy as she kneeled facing him. Cristy kneeled as she has been taught. She sat on her ankles with her legs apart. Her wrists were crossed at the small of her back. Her eyes were submissively downcast. Donatien now uncovered the plate. It contained a bowl of fresh strawberries and a small dish of whip cream. "Straighten your back," Donatien commanded. Cristy complied, straighten her back so that she no longer sat on her ankles, her hands, however, remained behind her back and her eyes are still downcast. Cristy shivered as she felt Donatien touched her chin. Gently, he lifted up her face so that she stared into his icy blue eyes. Cristy trembled. Feeling her tremble, Donatien smiled, "Do you fear me, slave?" A tears came down from the corner of Cristy's eye and her lips quivered as she answered, "Yes, master. Cristy fears you." Donatien smiled. His slave girl had used the proper form of address as well as the third person reference to herself as she was instructed. He picked up a strawberry and dips it in cream. "Here," Donatien held it to Cristy's lips. Gingerly Cristy ate from Donatien's hand. As Cristy finished eating the strawberry, Donatien bend down and kissed her. First he kissed away her tears, then he kissed her on the mouth - tasting the remaining sweetness of the strawberry from her lips. The kiss was gentle, almost loving, and Cristy felt torn between emotions. As Donatien broke off the kiss, Cristy whispered, "Please, master, may Cristy speak?" "Yes?" Donatien held up Cristy's face and stared into her lovely eyes sparkling with tears. "...please don't hurt Cristy," Cristy begged, her body trembling. Donatien slowly shook his head, "I would be lying if I promise you that, my beautiful slave. But I will promise that I will only beat you once a week if you behave yourself. Agreed?" Intelligent, Cristy knows that she has no choice in the matter. The man before her would beat her whenever he wishes. Thinking of the torturous times before her, tears renewed its flow from her eyes, and she gently nodded to her master, "Y-yes, master." Donatien took his crystal goblet, poured some champagne into it, then touched it to Cristy's lips. She drank from the goblet in small sips - it tasted expensive. Donatien then stood up and grabbed the chain at Cristy's throat. Cristy thought to stand up and follow Donatien but Donatien pushed her down, "Crawl, slave." Silently, still frightened, Cristy obeyed. She crawled behind Donatien, feeling her legs, sheathed in smooth stocking, sliding across the polished marble floor. Through a locked double door and a small corridor Cristy crawled. Eventually, they passed through an arched doorway into a large chamber. Donatien turned around and smiled, "Welcome to my dungeon, my slave." Cristy was shocked by what she saw. Besides a large king-sized bed, there were wooden stocks, racks, and other furnishings in the chamber, all designed to imprison the human body. Instruments of pain, including whips, rods, scourges, and many others decorate the walls. She grew terrified, and resisted when Donatien try to pull her into the chamber. Her hands clutched at the chain at her throat, "P-please, master," she cried. Grabbing her hand, Donatien dragged Cristy into the room. "Now, strip!" he barked at her. When she hesitated, he slapped her. She fell to the floor, sobbing, realizing that the nightmare was repeating itself, yet there was nothing she could do. She kicked off her shoes and began to undress. When she was completely naked, Donatien grabbed her wrist and dragged her until she stood between two marble columns. Attached to the columns were sets of chains and manacles. Realizing what her master intended, Cristy grew hysterical with terror, desperately she struggled, trying to pull away as Donatien attempt to lock the manacles about her wrists. She scratched Donatien and tried to kick him in the groin. Her nails drew blood on the side of Donatien's face but he easily avoided her kick. Grabbing Cristy's wrist tight, he swings her into the column, knocking the air out of her. Donatien then closed one manacle about Cristy's left wrist and before Cristy could kick out again, he grabbed her left ankle and closed another manacle around it. With Cristy's left wrist and left ankle chained, the right wrists and ankle prove to be less trouble. Within another minute, Cristy was chained between the marble columns. Cristy struggled in despair against her chains, but her efforts were futile. Meanwhile, Donatien, wiping the blood from his face, walked to a console on the wall and pressed a button, activating an electrical motor. As the electrical motor turned, it draws in the chains on Cristy's wrists and ankles. Cristy sobbed as she struggled against the chains that gradually stretched her naked body tout between the two marble columns, her arms and legs spread apart. Donatien turned off the electrical motor and walked before Cristy, putting a finger beneath her chin and lift up her tear-streaked face. "L-let me go," Cristy sobbed, "p- please let me go..." Donatien gazed upon the young woman's face, admiring her lovely, wholesome, and innocent beauty. Her eyes are large and dark brown, shiny with tears. Her scarlet lips sensuous and begging to be kissed. Donatien looked at his hand. His fingers are stained with his own blood. He stared into Cristy's eyes and whispered, smiling, "I am going to get someone to take a look at this scratch. See you soon." Gently, he then kissed the crying young woman on her lips and left. When Donatien returned, he was clad entirely in black, with a black silk shirt and loose black silk pants. He walked before the naked Cristy and smiled. Cristy looked up, her eyes still brimming with tears, "P-please, please, don't hurt me," she sobbed. Wordlessly, Donatien suddenly grabbed hold of Cristy's crotch. Cristy felt his fingers probing her nether lips, she trembled, "N-no, p-please," she sobbed. Then his fingers were into her, playing with her clitoris. As Donatien moved his fingers in and out of her, Cristy felt blood flushed up to the surface of her skin and she felt strangely aroused. She was both terrified and excited. Then, Donatien began to move his hand more violently. He alternated between lightly feeling about her nether region to shoving more and more fingers into her. Involuntarily, Cristy's body swayed between the marble columns, feeling both pain and pleasure. She pulled on her bonds, squirming to dislodge the moving hand at her loin. She cried, "P-please. Please stop," but Donatien continued fingering her. Shamefully, she sensed a growing wetness in her loin and felt herself burning with heat. Then, suddenly, Donatien stopped, leaving Cristy hanging over the precipice, she tried to squeeze her legs close, but the manacles held her tight. Donatien lifted up his hand before Cristy's eyes. Cristy saw that the hand glistened with wetness and was ashamed. She turned her head aside with her eyes closed, sobbing. Donatien used his dry hand to turn her head around, "Open your eyes! Open them!" he barked at the young woman. Cristy opened her eyes, frightened. Donatien placed his glistening fingers before Cristy's mouth, "Now, little slut, lick and suck my fingers clean of your own juice." Despite her fear, Cristy closed her mouth tightly, shaking her head in revulsion. Without warning, Donatien began beating Cristy. He slapped her several times then punched her in the stomach. Cristy screamed and the chains rattled >from the blows. Several more slaps broke Cristy's lower lip and blood trickled from the corner of mouth down to her chin. Sobbing, Cristy finally gave in. "P-please, p-please don't hurt me anymore..." she sobbed, "I'll do anything you want..." Donatien once again placed his glistening fingers before Cristy. Closing her eyes, tears streaking down her cheeks, Cristy extended her small pink tongue and licked the moisture on Donatien's fingers. Bending her head forward, the young woman then sucked gently on Donatien's fingers. Donatien was finally satisfied and withdrew his hand, the young woman sobbed in shame and coughed in nausea. When Cristy lift up her head again, she found Donatien standing before her with a thin flexible plastic rod. "N-no," Cristy begged, her tone nearly hysterical, "I beg you, master, don't hurt me. Please, master, Cristy begs you not to hurt her anymore." Donatien shook his head, still smiling. He pointed to the bandaged scratches on his cheek, "But my little slave, you have yet to be punished for this. Perhaps with a good beating you will finally learn how to be obedient?" Cristy cried, her tears trailing down >from her cheeks, staining her breasts and wetting the floor, "P-p-please," she sobbed, "I'm begging you, don't beat me anymore. P-please..." Donatien ignored the terrified young woman's pleadings and flexed the tool in his hand, "This is a synthetic sjambok, made of extruded plastic. It will mark you with thin welts and even draw blood. It is very painful. But fear not, it will not permanently damage you." Cristy jerked at her chains as Donatien walked slowly behind her, "N-no," she cried, jerking at the chain so hard that the manacles cut into her wrists. Donatien raised the sjambok and swung it at the bared pink flesh of the young woman's back. The young woman cried out as the sjambok cracked against her tender flesh. The blow sent stars across her eyes and left an ugly welt on her back. Again the sjambok struck, this time licking the flesh of her thigh, drawing blood. Cristy screamed again. Gradually, the pace of the sjambok's painful kisses became faster and faster. Nowhere on the young woman's body was immune to the sjambok, as Donatien struck at Cristy's back, her buttocks, her thighs, her calves, her shoulders, the back of her upper arms, and paid special attention to her nether region. Soon Cristy's body was covered with a glistening sheen of perspiration as welts crisscrossed her creamy skin and droplets of blood traced across her bruised flesh to fall to the floor. Occasionally, Donatien stopped, walking around her, admiring the scarlet welts and the streaks of crimson blood decorating the exquisitely carved form of light rosy-shaded flesh before him. Twice, Cristy fainted, but each time she was brought back as Donatien poured ice-cold water down her head. Slowly, Donatien paid more and more attention to Cristy's nether region, planting the kisses of the sjambok right on her clitoris. Cristy's voice was coarse from screaming by now, but she screamed still. As the sjambok struck her groin again and again, she began to feel the same strange arousal she felt earlier, despite her suffering. She moaned and cried; her excitement mixed with agony. The pace of the sjambok's biting kisses grew faster and faster and Cristy jerked at her chains desperately, screaming. She pleaded and begged her captor, but there was no mercy for her. Finally, she felt her own arousal reaching a climax and her entire body shuddered explosively before it hung limply on the chains. Donatien stopping beating the young woman and broke out in a throaty laugh. Cristy shivered and gasped in pain as she felt him running the sjambok across the open wounds and the bleeding flesh of her labia's lips and her clitoris. Donatien walked before Cristy smiling, "Well, you surprised me, little slave." Donatien lifted up the sjambok, it is stained with blood and a white creamy fluid, "You had an orgasm under the sjambok. Was that your first orgasm?" Ashamed, Cristy lowered her eyes and nodded weakly. Donatien laughed, "Ha, what a little slut you are, to come under the whip. You are a slut, aren't you?" When Cristy didn't answer, Donatien grabbed her face squeezed her cheeks painfully, "Answer me! You are a slut, aren't you?" "Y-yes, master," Cristy sobbed. Donatien slapped her, "Say it! What are you?" Terrified of a renewed beating, Cristy whispered, "I-I am a slut, master. C-Cristy is a slut." Satisfied, Donatien smiled, "You are my beautiful slut." Cristy lowered her eyes, droplets of tear on her trembling long eyelashes; she whispered, "Yes, master, Cristy is your slut." Lifting up the sjambok before Cristy, Donatien commanded, "Good. Now lick the sjambok clean, my lovely slave slut." Terrorized beyond her capacity to bear, Cristy obeyed, extending her small pink tongue to lick her own blood and moisture from the whip. After she finished licking the sjambok, Donatien dropped the sjambok to the floor and said, "Now, for some loving." Cristy cried and begged uselessly as Donatien walked behind her and lowered his pants. Cristy shivered, scared as Donatien ran his hands over her body. She was helpless as she felt his hand moving downward. The flesh of Cristy's nether region was badly bruised >from the whipping, and Donatien could feel that her skin was slick with blood as his fingers parted her outer labia. Cristy squirmed in agony, the slightest touch to the battered flesh of her genital was like touching raw nerves with a red hot iron. While his other arm held the struggling Cristy in a tight grip, Donatien guided his stiff penis to the entrance of the young woman's vagina. Pulling desperately on her chains, she pleaded, "No-no, p-please," she sobbed, "it hurts! Please don't!" Cristy's obvious pain merely aroused Donatien's ardor. With all of his strength, he thrusts, raping his beautiful and helpless captive's bruised sex, feeling his organ ramming into her warm flesh until it could go no further. Cristy screamed with her coarse voice. The agony seared through her body. She felt as if someone is stabbing a sharp burning sword into her. Chains rattled as her lithe delicate form writhed violently in torment, as Donatien's massive organ started to hammer into her again and again. Tears flowed freely from her eyes, now red from crying, mixing with beads of sweat. Droplets of blood dripped afresh from where Cristy and her master was joined, testament to her suffering. Again and again he thrust into her, impaling her on his organ. "Ah, Yes!" Donatien finally shouted as his body shuddered in a final fierce thrust. It was as if his body had exploded in a million directions, releasing every bit of energy in him. He felt his hot seeds shooting into his beautiful captive's battered sex in massive squirts. Breathing heavily from the exertion, Donatien withdraws his penis reluctantly out of Cristy. Cristy's eyes were closed and she was whimpering pitifully as a heavy-breathing Donatien released the manacles on her wrists and ankles. Freed from the chains, Cristy's limp body fell to the blood-stained floor. Slowly, she curled up into the fetal position, sobbing and whimpering uncontrollably. Gradually catching his breath, Donatien bent down and touched the young woman's teary face with a finger, "So, how are you feeling, little slave?" It was a long moment before Cristy whimpered, her voice was tiny and barely audible, "N-no more, please," Donatien shook his head, "No more? But what of your trying kick me? You know that you must be punished, don't you? We just cannot have little slave girls trying to kick the master in the groin." Hearing this, Cristy struggled desperately to crawl away, "N-no!" she cried in terror. Her body was too weak >from the remorseless beatings and her brutal rape. Before she had crawled more than a few inches, Donatien stumped hard on her, placing all of his considerable strength on her delicate right ankle. Cristy screamed, feeling and hearing the bones in her ankle snap. Then pain inundated her senses and she fainted again. In darkness, Cristy's mind was filled with a jumbled mixture of impressions. She felt gloved hands touching her, dabbing at her painful wounds. She felt the sting of a hydrogen peroxide sterilizing her wounds. She cried and begged, her words incoherent, "D-don't hurt me anymore... P- please," she sobbed. She felt ointments being applied and bandages taped and wrapped around her body. Then, she felt the prick of a needle. Everything then faded away. Cristy woke up in an opulent bedroom on a luxurious bed and covered in silk sheet. Donatien slept besides her, his powerfully muscled body a sharp contrast to her delicate female form. Donatien's strong arms wrapped around her lithe body, his right hand cupped her left breast while his left hand touched the dark triangle of her pubic thatch. Her own wrists are locked in padded handcuffs before her body. Cristy peeked beneath the silk sheet and saw that her right ankle is encased in a slim, plasteel cast. Cristy moved slightly and heard the clinking of a chain, realizing that her left ankle is locked by a shackle, chaining her to the bed. She was completely naked except for a wide variety of bandages over her body. Cristy felt sore and her body hurt all over. She slowly unwrapped Donatien's hands around her, careful not to wake him. She then sat up and moved out of the sheet. Carefully, she examined the shackle on her ankle, wondering if she had a chance to escape. As she started to gently tug at the chain, Donatien's voice sounded behind her, "Don't even think about it." Cristy turned around to see Donatien sitting up, his icy blue eyes staring at her. Cristy cringed back in fear, then she realized that there would be no way she could escape his wrath. Tearful, Cristy bite her lower lip and lowered her eyes, whispering, "Good morning, master." Donatien shook his head, "Why do you keep on trying to escape? Do you know that in the short time you've been here, you've got the record among all my past slaves with the most attempts to escape?" Silence ensued, then Cristy whispered, "May Cristy speak freely to answer master's question?" Donatien nodded, "Yes." "How could master ask Cristy that?" Cristy sobbed, "Cristy has been abducted. In captivity, Cristy has been raped, beaten almost daily, humiliated, and treated like an animal. Master has even had Cristy addicted to a drug. Please, master, let Cristy go..." Near the end Cristy's voice was choked with sobs. Donatien grabbed Cristy's shoulder and gently pulled her close. Reluctantly, Cristy leaned toward Donatien, numb with indifference as his hand fondled her breasts. "And where would you go if you escape, little slave?" Donatien whispered as he kissed Cristy, tasting the sweetness of her lips. Donatien then turned around and removed a notebook computer from the drawer of the bedside night stand. "Computer, display file: Vivian 'Cristy' Gray." Donatien spoke to the computer as he flipped it open to show Cristy the screen. The screen came to life as it obeyed Donatien's commands, "Voice code recognized," the computer spoke, "File retrieved." Donatien's finger touched the control panel and started explaining to Cristy, "You did not know it, but your old life had ended a while ago. Look, here is a withdrawal form to the university you were enrolled in. Here are various letters from you that your friends received, indicating that you would be leaving school to pursue an opportunity with a certain business that I control indirectly. Here are the closing statements of your various debts and assets. Your debts, including student loans and miscellaneous bills were all paid off. Your meager assets are consolidated into a single account at one of my banks. Here is your 'perpetual contract' with one of my businesses, which essentially made you a legal property of mine in actuality if not in name. There are video-clips of you stating and signing all the relevant documents if you wishes to see them." Cristy felt cold, as if her heart had been frozen. "H- how?" she whispered, feeling the last ray of hope fleeing >from her. Donatien smiled, "Isn't modern technology wonderful, my little slave? Computer programs to imitate your handwriting and signature. Computer graphics to model your video appearance. It really wasn't too difficult. Oh, I forgot to tell you, my people have also taken the liberty of modifying your criminal records - making them slightly tarnished. So, if it ever comes to head, the courts or the police would never believe you. Furthermore, if you escaped, you would be breaking your lawful contract with my business. The police would help us track you down as a fugitive." Cristy cried into her hands, knowing that Donatien spoke the truth. Her life before her abduction had been destroyed. There would be nowhere for her to return to. Tears dripped down and stained the silk sheets. Cristy stopped playing again, tears sliding down her cheek. To prevent the hired instructors' suspicion, Cristy, though normally kept nudity, was allowed cloths for her ballet, modern dance, and clarinet lessons. Now Cristy sat opposite her aged clarinet instructor, a Mr. Johann Denner, crying with her face in her hands. "Are you all right?" Johann asked. Cristy wiped away her tears and sniffed, "P-please, Mr. Denner, can we stop the lesson here and just talk?" Johann nodded understandingly, "Of course, Cristy. What would you like to talk about?" Cristy smiled weakly, "Mr. Denner, what did my 'chaperons' tell you about me?" "Well. I know that you are a distant relative to Mr. D'Ailly, a cousin, I believe? They mentioned that you were attending college. They also mentioned that you have some problems with, ah, substance abuse, and you were forced to withdraw from you education." Johann paused, frowning, the young woman was crying again. Without thinking, Johann took Cristy in his arms and hugged her, letting the young woman bury her face in his ancient shoulder and gently patted her on the back. "There, there," he spoke softly to her, "That is all behind you now. Drugs are bad, but every one of us make mistakes, and you are lucky you have people who cares for you. Besides, Cristy, drugs or no drugs, you are still one of the best pupils I've ever had in my forty-five years of teaching." Cristy lifted up her head, tears still glittering in her eyes. She whispered, "Really?" "Yes," Johann smiled at the young woman, "You have a great deal of talent, Cristy. I have some slight reputation in the music field and a few friends left in the academic circles. If you like, I could write you a recommendation and pull some strings to get you into a good music academy." Cristy smiled weakly, "Thank you, Mr. Denner." Then she paused and Johann noticed her lips quiver as if wanting to speak out but couldn't, finally she just said, "I don't think I could play anymore tonight, Mr. Denner, could you help me back in my wheel chair?" Johann nodded, "Sure. Should I get your chaperon?" "Yes, please," sitting in the wheel chair, Cristy flashed a sad little smile at Johann, "I am sorry, Mr. Denner." As Johann walked to get one of Cristy's 'chaperons' (actually one of Cristy's keepers), Cristy turned her wheel chair and headed quickly for the small rest room connected to the sitting room where she took her clarinet lessons. As Johann talked to her keeper, she entered the rest room. Once within the rest room, Cristy pushed herself away >from the wheel chair. Crawling on the floor, Cristy then used all her strength to tip the wheel chair on its side and kick it with her left leg to wedge it firmly between the rest room door and the toilet. By now, the guards monitoring the hidden cameras realized something was wrong. Her keeper had left Johann Denner for one of the guards to escort out as he ran toward the rest room door. "Cristy! Cristy!" Her keeper pounded on the door, "Open this door now, girl, or you'll be regret it!" Cristy ignored him and climbed painfully onto her knees before the sink. She pushed the button that would enable the sink bowl to retain water. She then turns on the hot water and waited. Faintly, beyond the door, Cristy heard the voice of several guards and another angry threat from her keeper. She saw the knobs on the rest room door turning uselessly. The noise was deafening as several guards slamming their bodies against the door, trying to force it open. Cristy smiled and for once she could appreciate the luxurious appointment of Donatien's home. The rest room door is a solid slab of oak, beautifully engraved, set into a strong frame with heavy hinges - it would take a while for the guards to break it down. Gradually, steam from the hot water had filled the room. Cristy hoped that it would be enough to cloud the hidden cameras and give her the precious time she needs. Cristy kicked off the shoe on her left foot and hold it in her right hand as she struggled to stand up with her left hand grabbing onto the sink. Slowly, Cristy rose up, standing on her left foot. Holding her shoe with both hands, she smashes it into the mirror above the sink. It took her three tries before the mirror shattered completely, scattering sharp pieces everywhere. Carefully, Cristy used her fingers to pry out a particularly nasty looking shard from the frame. Placing the shard on the sink, Cristy loosened the sleeves of her blouse. She was crying now, her tears streaking down her face as she grabbed hold of the mirror shard. "Mom and dad," she whispered, her voice choked with tears, "your little Vivian is coming to you." Sinking her wrists beneath the hot water, Cristy slit her wrists. "What the hell is going on?" Dr. Stern yelled as he entered the elevator leading up to the floors that Donatien's suite occupied. Damn it, he thought to himself, I should never have taken this job as that rich man's residential physician. First that poor girl beaten and raped senseless, now what? "It's the girl, Dr. Stern," the guard escorting him replied, "She tried to kill herself. She shut herself in a rest room and slit her wrists. We found her five minutes ago, we called you immediately." "Damn it!" Dr. Stern kicked the elevator door, "I thought you guys have this entire building wired up, don't you guys have cameras everywhere? Why didn't you guys keep an eye on her?" "We did, Dr. Stern, but that little lady is smart!" the guard actually looked nervous, it was the first time Dr. Stern saw one of these impassive mercenaries sweating, "As per the boss' order, we kept a special eye on the little lady. The guard at the camera station says that he saw her dart into the rest room on her wheel chair, then used the wheel chair to wedge the door in place. She then turns on the hot water to blind the camera with steam. We tried to batter the door down but couldn't. We thought of shooting the door off its hinges but were afraid that the ricochet might hurt the girl. Finally we found a small electric chain saw used for cutting shrubbery in the garden and cut that door off its hinges." The guard shook his head, "By the time we got into the rest room, the little lady was lying in a pool of blood on the floor. She had shattered the mirror and used one of the shards to slit her wrists. I'm telling you, she planned the whole fuckin' thing. She only got her wheel chair yesterday, and today she pulled this off. Damn, that's one smart little lady." The guard was unable to keep out hints of pity and admiration in his voice, Dr. Stern shook his head, "Forget how it happened, where is she?" "Otis got to her first and bound up her wrists. We dragged her out of the rest room and wrapped her in heavy blankets before laying her on the floor." The guards talked into his headset for a moment, then said, "Mr. Horoun is up, he said that he'll be there pronto." The elevator door opened and Dr. Stern and the guard ran out. Arriving at the sitting room, Dr. Stern quickly begins to examine the unconscious Cristy. A few moments later, Horoun arrived, clad in his sleeping robes, wearing a communication headset. "Dr. Stern, could we handle this situation here in the tower, or do we need hospital facilities?" Horoun asked. "Damn it, this is bad. We'll need the hospital facilities, we can't handle this here." Dr. Stern cursed, "Shit, she's going into shock." Turning to Horoun, he said, "When is the ambulance going to get here?" "No ambulance, Dr. Stern. Within a few minutes, I'll have a hover-copter here," the Iranian replied, "we are enacting the emergency plan laid out if Mr. Donatien himself should get hurt. We should get to the hospital within ten minutes after the hover-copter gets here. We have a special arrangement with the hospital to keep things of this sort discreet. I'll get a few people working among the hospital personnel to prevent media leaks." "The girl is dying and you are worrying about media leaks?!" "Dr. Stern," Horoun explained patiently to the outraged physician, "while I truly hope you can save the girl, as Mr. D'Ailly seems to enjoy her company and has invested a great deal of money in her, my loyalty is to Mr. D'Ailly, not the girl." Horoun paused a moment listening to his headset then said, "The hover-copter is on its way, they'll get here in three minutes." Dr. Stern shook his head, "Let's hope that's enough." He bent down and stared at the Cristy's face. Cristy was pale from the blood loss, yet she was still lovely. Her eyes were closed and cold sweat covered her. Dr. Stern shook his head again. Lifting up his head, he saw the trail of blood leading out from the rest room. In a moment of compassion, he touched the young woman's face and whispered, "You poor little fool." [to be continued in Chapter 3, which has yet to be titled] ------------------------------------------------------------------------- To find out more about the anon service, send mail to help@anon.penet.fi. Due to the double-blind, any mail replies to this message will be anonymized, and an anonymous id will be allocated automatically. You have been warned. Please report any problems, inappropriate use etc. to admin@anon.penet.fi.