Disclaimer: these characters are the property and copy write of the author.

Sexual Content/Violence/Language: This is alternative fiction involving a romantic/sexual relationship between two women and copius amounts of money. It is intended for mature audiences (and by that I mean over 18) only.

Acknowledgements: For Lisa, Rae and Martiza, your beta expertise and patience have been outstanding. Thank you so much guys, I totally love working with you and claiming all your free time! xxx

Comments/ Feedback: This story is proof of what happens when Bards are fed, they get encouraged and they mature as writers. Thanks to all who gave me feedback on Wandanna Beach, I owe you a lot but give you this….

As usual feedback is begged for like fish to a penguin, and likewise swallowed whole, good, bad but never indifferent. Drop me a fish/line at-

msprism@hotmail.co.uk

M.I.C.K.E.Y.

Part 1

     She awoke, well…came round into blackness. Disconcerted at first it took only seconds for her re-assembled mind to note the fabric bound tightly round her eyes and pulled across her mouth gagging her. And knots, knots that held her arms behind her lashed to the chair framework stretching her aching muscles to screaming point. Disorientation, surprise, dismay…wtf?

How had she got here? No time to wonder, only time to be smart.

    She sat still and listened as acutely as possible for clues, anything that might help. No-one was there with her, not even sitting quietly. She detected no other presence at all. So what else could she hear? Nothing, no traffic, no weather, no neighbourhood, nothing, she might as well be in a frigging coffin?  The thought washed over her with irrational horror, panic and claustrophobia rose to swamp her. She breathed in deep and slow, 1.2.3.4.5, held the breath for five beats 1.2.3.4.5, and released it again slowly, 1.2.3.4.5. Repeat as necessary she told herself, until the panic subsides, until your heart calms, until your wits are back in your head.

     A few minutes later and she had a grip on her panic. That was stupid she told herself, don’t go thinking of coffins again in a hurry. A phobic incident would be a luxury right now, your life may be in danger, certainly your safety is, focus moron, focus.

     So, no clues for the ears, what about smell? She raised her head slightly, quivered her nostrils and tried to see if her other senses could help play detective. Mmmm, oil, motor oil…detergent, yes washing detergent with a...lavender scent. What else…nothing else that was it. She was either tethered up in someone’s garage or else a utility room. Great, just great. Now how the hell had this happened?

     Then and only then, when she knew she was alone and had a rough grasp on her immediate location did she allow herself to think back. She’d been in the kitchen at home, yeah she’d been at home…then what, why was it all so hard to recall. Her head was banging like a drum, as if she had a hangover…but she hadn’t been drinking. Had she? Think. Water, she remembered sipping water before…OMG! The heart attack! How could she forget the heart…wait a minute…that couldn’t have been a heart attack, she’d have woken up in a hospital not a…a…

   She’d been drugged and kidnapped. It was so simple. She remembered drinking from the glass, her last act of normalcy in her own home. And then the palpitations…so strong the tumbler had slipped form her grasp onto the floor with herself soon after it. Lying there, head spinning heart pumping for all it was worth, and then the back door opened and someone entered. As the dizzying blackness engulfed her she remembered the clear feeling of relief that someone was there and would without doubt ring for help immediately. It was all so clear now, like a re-run of an old partially remembered movie. Question was what the hell was she doing here?

   Maybe an hour or two passed. Another of her senses had kicked in to add to her growing database. She felt warmth along her left-hand side slowly slip round to her lap. It had to be sunshine and with its movement she tried to calculate time. So, now she had a window somewhere to the left. That meant an outer wall, whatever the layout of this building was she was on an outer edge. It confirmed her initial idea of being in either a garage or utility, therefore she was also at ground level with just one wall between herself and freedom.

     Footsteps! She heard them clearly sometime later, she could guess at a couple of hours from when she’d regained consciousness, but she had lost the sun some time ago and all sense of daylight hours with it. Even a dripping tap would have given her a unit of measurement but the continual silence just distorted all concept of time for her. The soft foot thread was coming from the right, in another room. The sudden clatter of dishes, as if in a sink confirmed that this was the kitchen. She was most definitely in a utility room. There came a low drone and then a Ding.

     A microwave ding, someone was making dinner, lunch? She guessed dinner as the sun on her side had held the fuller heat of the afternoon. But it was only a guess. These little mind games where holding her together, keeping her thoughts slightly left of centre, but at least focussed on something other than pure panic. Dinner, immediately her stomach started to rumble, well what do you know, another physical attribute overlooked, hunger, it might have worked like a clock if she’s have even registered it in the first place. At work her stomach was her timepiece, pacing her day.

   She focussed intently on very movement from the adjoining room. Four steps from wherever the microwave was housed to the bench with the cutlery drawer. Two more steps and a cupboard door snapped shut. It sounded like a small kitchen. This felt like a large room, utilities were seldom larger then their kitchens, so this was the garage! Another piece of the puzzle fell into place.

   Five steps and a connecting door clicked open. The entire acoustics of the room she was in changed. She had company. Six steps for her new companion to reach her. This was definitely the larger room. Now she could smell a waft of hot food approaching and her stomach growled again. She grimaced fancifully thinking she could probably guess the cubic footage of her cell merely from the echoing of her rumbling belly. Her visitor halted beside her hesitantly. She had the immediate impression of height, but that could have been because she was seated, or because she wasn’t a very tall person herself, or because she was in feeling intimidated. It was only an impression she told herself, it still had to be proven. Underlying the heady aroma of food lay the warm soapy scent of a female. Every primal and cognizant instinct in her body told her this was a woman standing beside her. So she had a female captor, how many more where there?

   “I heated up some homemade broth. It’s vegetable, I’m not sure if you’re vegetarian.” The voice was soft and low with what in other circumstances she’d have found an attractive timbre. “I’ve also got water and some painkillers. I’m going to undo the gag. Please don’t cry out, there’s no-one to hear you. And too be honest if you prove too difficult I’ll gag you again and take away the food. Understand!”

   In that moment silence that followed the bound woman nodded her blond head. She heard the scraping on a metal tray being set onto the floor beside her chair and then her captor moved around behind her and began to fumble with the knot on the gag. Well actually not fumble, with a quick flick she managed to release it in seconds giving her detainee the impression that this was the person who had tied it in the first place. And then the blessed relief of a freed mouth, she grimaced in a fierce cheek stretch smacked her lips and licked them with a dry tongue; god, the relief.    

   “Here. Suck this.” The plastic nipple of a sports water bottle was gently inserted into her dried out mouth. “Just a few sips at a time.” Before she had even drawn her second draught the bottle was removed. “Not so fast, you’ll make yourself queasy.” Again the nipple was carefully re-introduced and she took another sip, long and this time slower, breaking suction herself when she was ready too.

   “Okay, broth now. Here comes the spoon. Ready?” She listened intently to the simple noises of a spoon dipping in liquid, scraping on the lip of the bowl. Her nostrils flared at the aroma of hot herby soup, her stomach gave another appreciative gurgle. And then, out of the blue an unexpected sound, a long whispered breath? What was she doing? Blowing, she’s blowing on the spoon to cool down the soup like you would for a child? By the time this had registered the spoon was prodding her lips, opening them she allowed the broth to spill into her hungry mouth. It was ambrosia. For the next five minutes the process was repeated until the bowl was emptied.

   “You enjoyed that.” The voice came again as the bowl was placed back onto the metal tray.

“It was good.” What was to come next, the gag? She didn’t think she could bare it. “Thank you.” What to do to prolong the moment, to delay the panic, to glean more information?

   “I’ve got some aspirin here. That’s all it is. You’ve probably got a headache. Do you want some?”

“Aspirin?”

“Yes aspirin. That’s all it is promise.” So she had been drugged, something in the water before she passed out. But her head was killing her. Could she trust this woman? Did she want this woman to think she could trust her?

“No thank you. I’d rather not. But I would like some more water please.” There, a halfway house. She won’t allow her captor to think she could just blow away her pain as easily as she cooled her soup, but she would let her supply the basic needs for her comfort and survival.

   “Sure.” The bottle was quickly produced leaving the drinker with the feeling it was important this moderate request be answered. That probably meant feelings of guilt on the part of her kidnapper, useful information, but what else could she whittle out of this present situation?  God she felt so fuzzy and slow-witted, on a good day she’d be halfway out the door by now leaving her captor on the floor all negotiated out. A few swallows later and nature came to her aid.

“I really need the bathroom.” Well, it was true and it was useful…as long as she wasn’t directed towards a bucket in the corner. But somehow she didn’t think that was the case. Someone who blew on her broth would probably not make her squat over a drain.

“Mmm. Okay...”

Oh my god, the slight hesitancy in the voice alerted that her captor had not really thought about her sanitary needs. What kind of half assed amateur kidnapper had she got! Well not an opportunistic one hence the drugged water. That much at least was planned. But com’on, what did she expect, feed me, water me then leave me to explode a week later? Or maybe the turnover should have been immediate, was expected to be immediate. So immediate there would have been no time to feed, water or toilette her captive. Had something gone wrong already? She began to feel her initial worry rise and with it her panic. Her breath must have caught in her throat for immediately the voice came back reassuringly.

   “Okay. I’m going to untie your wrists and guide you. We’ll go slow. Just follow my directions.” Again the binds were released so quickly she knew without doubt this had been the person who had tied them. She was almost certain this was the only bad guy. She flexed her fingers, no pins and needles and no cramps.  Shaking out her arms she felt a warm grasp on her left bicep, her other arm was drawn across and wrists bound behind her as she was pulled in close to her guide. Yup, she was right, this was a tall one she felt the crush of a breast on her shoulder. The warmth contrasting with the slow chill now seeping into her body, reminding her again that the sun had long disappeared.

   “Stay close, I’ll guide you.” the warm voice reverberated, then as a clichéd after thought, “No funny stuff.” Yup, the whole affair was beginning to smack of amateurism, and that was very, very dangerous for her.

She was carefully led across the floor to the connecting door way, it took her eight steps confirming the other was indeed tall and with a much longer stride.  Entering what she now knew to be the kitchen the wave of heat made her skin flush appreciatively. Left turn, six of her strides to another door, moving from tiles to carpeting, five strides, left again into a bathroom. More tiles underfoot. Now what? Now what indeed, she could almost hear the thought out loud in her captors mind.

   “Are you going to untie me?” even as she asked she could feel the hesitation ebbing from the other woman.

“No.” came her answer, “You might tamper with the blindfold and I don’t want you to se me.”

“I won’t touch it. Just free my hands so I can use the toilet. Please.”

“No.” this time the voice was terse. She decided not to push it. They stood in silence.

“Are you going to help me then?” her own voice was tight, her face turned in the general direction of her companion.

A touch on her shoulder gently guided her backwards.

“The bowl is directly behind you, okay.” Hands quickly undid her Levi buttons easing them down to her knees. Next her lace panties glided after them. She felt her cheeks glow, as a hand held her by her upper arm and supported her as she clumsily sat down on the seat leaning awkwardly forward to counterbalance the tether behind her. Her mortification was compounded a few minutes later as she heard the toilet tissue rip its softness brushing between her legs, tidying her.

   “Okay, up we come.” She was pulled to her feet and her clothing re-arranged. Again she was guided from the room out into the corridor this time they turned left taking them further into the building. Good, another segment of the floor map could be pasted into her head. Right again and a door opened, she was manoeuvred in and bought to a halt.

   “You’ll sleep here. The gar…other room is too chilly.” She was moved to a bed and gently pushed down to sit on the edge. Her abductor moved away and she heard a drawer open followed by the clinking of metal. Leaning over her shoulder the ties were again undone.

“Lie down.” she was directed and pressed back onto the pillows. A click and cold metal cuffed her wrist, her arms were pulled over her head and the cuffs themselves were then looped to the railed bedhead. Next she felt her trainers and socks being peeled off and an over blanket drawn up to her chest. 

   “Tell me why you’re doing this. Is it for money?”

“No.” the answer came quickly and too sharply. Silence. “Yes. Only what’s mine.”

“What’s yours? Why have you brought me here? I don’t understand.”

“You don’t have to understand. All you have to do is exactly as you’re told. It’ll be over soon. I’ve already started negotiations with your girlfriend. It won’t be long until Ms Gresham pays back what she owes and you’ll be free.”

She started in shock, the metal chain of the cuffs rattled. Before she could even think to speak she heard her abductor move towards the doorway.

“I’m leaving the door open. I’ll be down the hall. Call if you need anything. Okay?” Then she was gone with a soft “Goodnight Ginette.”

Part 2

   Eventually she must have slept which surprised her as her mind was spinning with the information her captor had casually imparted before disappearing.

   “Good morning Ginette. I’ve got breakfast ready. Come on, bathroom first?” the voice seemed more confident this morning. The cuffs were released from the bed, one wrist freed only to be captured behind her again. No shoes this time, barefoot she was led to the bathroom, the reverse direction only confirming the map she was building in her mind. She was turned at the bowl, Levis opened and lowered. This time with more assurance, the bitch is beginning to get off on this, she had better be careful now the first night nerves were over. Even as the thought entered her head she felt the hesitation and simultaneously the wet between her legs. She froze.

“You’re bleeding. I think your period has started.” The embarrassment in the voice below her only added to the flame that scorched across her face. Fuck who needed this now. How ironic, yet another way for her to mark the passage of time, jeez!  

   She quickly sat down on the bowl, totally mortified. Before she could even properly grasp the situation she was thrown momentarily off balance by her feet being lifted and her stained clothing dragged down off her legs.

“Oops-a-daisy. I’ll get you something clean to wear while I wash these.”

Alone for barely a minute before the other returned and dressed her in soft cotton boxers which pooled around her feet as she sat.

 Next a cabinet door clicked and she heard the rustling of cardboard and paper.

“I only have tampons are you okay with those?”

She nodded mutely, thoroughly humiliated.  Again the toilet paper was torn and she frowned surely she would be allowed free hands to administer to herself? A hand guided her up and she was gently wiped clean.

“Can’t you take off the cuffs for even moment? I need my hands free.” She asked in a strangled voice, quavering between shame and anger. Paper thinly tore from the applicator tube.

“No. It’s got to be this way. I can help you, just stand still.”

She jerked as she felt the tip on the tampon on her lips. It was gently yet persistently inserted inside bloodied walls offered no resistance, in fact lubricating the insertion. She gasped as the length was slowly pushed into her, her body pulsing off rays of heated humiliation.

“Are you getting off on this or something, you freak.” The words were out before she’d time to censor them. The motion stopped. Then the tampon went all the way home with one last sharp thrust, she jerked again.

“No, I’m not getting off on it, I don’t need this. I’m not your fucking nurse!” came the snapped response.

The tampon in place the boxers were roughly tugged back up. They enveloped her, confirming her impression that her assailant was much larger than herself...and totally butch!

   So, her mind started to re-cap on all the information it had garnered so far today. Somebody was upset that things weren’t running smoothly, and somebody had stupidly brought her captive to her own home, and somebody was getting caught up in the details of caring for their victim because they probably felt enormously guilty, and somebody absolutely stank at criminality. Interesting.

   She was once again led out to the kitchen area and seated at a table. The aroma of fresh coffee enveloped her with familiar comfort.

“Mmmm, I’ve got eggs, bacon, vegetarian bacon, pancakes and syrup, or just cereal if you’d like?” Glass tinkled off glass.

“Here’s your OJ.” A glass was set before her, “There’s a straw, here lean forward.” The straw tip was directed into her mouth. “Do you have period cramps? Do you need any painkillers?”

“I thought you weren’t a ‘fucking nurse’. Censorship alarm, censorship alarm! Her mouth was running away with her temper.

“Hey, I’m trying to be kind. I know you’re caught up in the middle of something bad and are completely innocent and I’m trying to make this as easy on you as possible.” She could hear anger and a tinge of self justification in the answer.

“You kidnapped me! How easy on me is that?” Fuck censorship she wanted to rip the head of this mewling jerk.

“I already acknowledged you were innocent!”

“Innocent of what for fucks sake!”

“Hey watch your mouth, you can be gagged again.”

“Yea, threaten and bully me you…abductor! The least you can do it tell me why I’m here and how long until I can go?”

Silence.

 Shit, had she pushed too far? Was the gag going to re-appear, that would be a total step backwards. After a slight hesitation the answer came.

“That would depend on your girlfriend and how quickly she answers my demands.”

“Which are?”

“Which are none of your business.”

“Hey, you’re the one treating me like currency the least you can do is indicate my current market value.” She spat back bitterly. Again silence, she sat waiting to see what her latest out burst would bring.

“So, what do you want for breakfast? I can do you oatmeal as well if you’d rather.”

“No! I’m on hunger strike until you tell me why I’m here!” Just then her stomach chose to growl like a grizzly.

“Hmmm.” She could hear humour buried in the deep voice. “Wonder how that will go? Should be a long hard fast.” This was followed by a snort. She bristled with anger.

“I mean it!”

“I’m sure you do. I really believe you’re one determined lady. But believe me the less you know the better. Now I am gonna have some bacon with my pancakes. And a fresh cup of coffee. So if you’ll excuse me I’ll just take you back to the chair in the gara…other room…”

“No! I don’t want to back there and just sit. Please.”

“Well then if you want to stay here you gotta eat. Damned if I’m listening to that belly growling at me all day.” She got up and began banging pots and pans around on the stove. The kettle clicked.

“I make my coffee strong, can I get you a cup?” and as easy as that the hunger strike was over.

     Breakfast was another instance of infantilism as she was fed small pieces of food and sips of juice and coffee. Mouth always agape for the next morsel she felt like a baby bird. It was along painful process but finally she was replete.

“Boy, you can sure pack it away.” Crumbs were dusted from her lips and chin with a paper napkin.

   “Now...umm” indecision entered her captors’ voice, “I gotta go to work...”

“What! You’re leaving me chained up here…like some dog! Why don’t you just tie me up in the back yard?”

“Hey, hey clam down. I work from home, in the back offi…never mind. Look I’m taking you back to your bedroom and I’ll put on some music for you, okay. Don’t freak out I promise I won’t leave you tied you up in the garage again...damn!” 

“I already guessed it was a garage.” Jeez, got myself a real rocket scientist here.

“Well, like I said, I didn’t expect it to take so long. I thought you’d be here and gone in about thirty seconds flat.” came a sullen reply, “I didn’t know where to put you…” she finished off petulantly.

“Okay, okay. Take me back to the bedroom. But please don’t keep my arms behind my back, my shoulders are killing me.”

Sigh. “Alright, but I’ll have to cuff you to the bed. I don’t want you taking off your blindfold okay?”

     She was led back to the room she’d slept in smiling quietly to herself as she realised she could have done it herself blindfolded, so well had she charted the route. Hah, how ironic.

     Both hands cuffed again to the bedhead a CD player near her head was switched on.

“Here’s some music. I’ll be just down the hallway, call me if you need anything, okay?”

   Twenty minutes later she was screeching down the hall over the drumming and wailing of Native Americans…

“If you don’t come in here and turn off freakin Buffy Saint Marie I swear to god I’ll inhale my own vomit!!”

Click and there was blessed silence.

“Oh thank god.” She breathed.

“I love Buffy Saint Marie, how could you not love Buffy Saint Marie?” the other whined indignantly.

“You are one sadistic bitch. Are you trying to torture me as well as hold me to ransom?”

“What? Never!” the voice sounded genuinely hurt, “Well what do you want to listen too? I got Prince, Sheryl Crowe, Nine Inch Nails…”

“Again I puke in the general direction of my lungs! What I want is an audio book. Do you have anything like that?”

“Hmm, no. But I could nip out and get one. Any one in particular?”

“Don’t you dare leave me here! What if there’s a fire!”

“There won’t be a fire. I have to go out sometimes. I need to do messages like buy milk and bread. Collect ransoms.”

“Collect ransoms! You’re collecting my ransom. How much, when, how?” she tried to sit up but her cuffs rattled loudly and kept her prone. She tried to lever herself into a more comfortable position.

“Here hang on and I’ll loosen those.”

She felt cool breath breeze across her face and then the whisper of soft hair on her cheek and forehead as her captor leant across her to loosen the tethers. So, she had long hair. It must have been pulled back before for her to only notice it now. Soft, long and fragrant hair…smelling of bergamot and rosemary, fresh and clean and lovely and making her belly flutter, she wanted something, she wanted something, she wanted what?

“I want a shower. I’m lying here smelling myself. There must be some way you can let me wash properly?” The slight hesitation from above allowed her to press home her advantage. “Com’on. I’m sweaty and uncomfortable and bleeding all over myself. Please.”

“Well…what about the blindfold? You really, really can’t see me, okay!”

“What is this, a Beauty and the Beast thing?”

“Huh? No! It’s a pointing me out in court thing!” the voice was petulant again. God but she was so easy to tease.

“Look, lock me in the bathroom and don’t let me out until I promise to blindfold myself.”

Silence.

“I’ll even squirt soap in my eyes….please.”

A chuckle “Let me think about it. I just want it to work out for both of us. I know it’s tough but I just want us to get through this okay?”

Okay...so now we’re a team trying to get ourselves through this. Ha, darling, news for you…it’s MY team!

“Well bury your nose in this armpit and you’ll change your mind quick. Personally I may not be able to make it through the next hour!”

More chuckles, “Okay, okay. I’ll tidy up the bathroom. But you’ll have to abide by the rules.  Believe me Ginette, it’s important.”

“Okay…sorry, I don’t know your name…?”

“Ab...HEY!”

She bubbled with delighted laughter, “Got ya! Well nearly.”

“That’s not funny!”  the other huffed. “I’m gonna sort out the bathroom.” And she stomped off.

So Ab...hey, a female name beginning with A, second letter B…you are sooo fucked.

   Moments later she heard a bath running,

“I’m not risking leaving you in the bathroom alone you’d be out the window in a flash. So you’re having a bath not a shower.” The voice returned and uncuffed her from the bed.  She was led into the bathroom again which felt much warmer and steamier.

   “Mmmm, get those clothes off and I’ll get you some fresh ones.”

Self conscious again she stepped out of the oversized boxers and pulled the T shirt over her head. She wore no bra, the day of her kidnap she had been mooching round the house, tidying up a few bits and pieces from work and had dressed in her favourite faded Levis and an old T. Now she felt so exposed standing there vulnerable and naked not knowing if her captor was leering at her small round pink tipped breasts, nipples already hardening despite the warm air, traitors! She was surprised at the eroticism she was finding in the situation? That was an unexpected tangent she would have to explore later when she was next tied up and abandoned for a few hours. Not exactly a thought line she needed interweaving with her plans for escape.

   “Okay, be careful.” a hand took hers and gently led her to the edge of the tub and she stepped into the perfectly heated water. No sooner had she gingerly lowered herself than one wrist was again cuffed to the safety hand bar on the side of the bath. Her other was left free.

   “I’m gonna wash your hair. I got real nice shampoo and conditioner here. Then I’ll leave you alone to wash the rest of yourself and wallow or whatever. Shout and I’ll come back okay?”

“Okay.” No sooner had she said the words than the blindfold was removed and warm water began to pour from a pitcher over her head. Her abductor keeping out of sight behind her. It felt so good. Hair thoroughly soaked the aromatic bergamot and rosemary shampoo was applied and gentle hands began to massage the suds through her short blonde hair flitting across the tight muscles of her scalp. She bit back a little moan of contentment as the fragrance and the kneading fingers worked their magic on her tension. Again warm water flowed over her, washing away the lather only for a second application to begin. Firm fingers worked over her scalp to the base of her hairline, hesitating only a moment before continuing to knead and massage down to her nape and across her stiff shoulders. This time she could not suppress a long satisfied moan, she was only human after all.  

“You’re very tight all across here. Not surprising in the circumstances I suppose but I can loosen the muscles up nicely now that the water and steam have relaxed you a little.”

“Mmmm,” she moaned, “do you do this for all your kidnap victims?”

She received a warm chuckle, “Oh yea, some of them feel so pampered I have to chase them out the door .”

   More water rinsed her hair clean. Then another heavenly scented conditioner was applied and briskly worked into every hair from root to tip.

“You’re good at this. Are you a hairdresser? I mean do you work in the Hair and Beauty industry?” she idly pried best not waste the moment in luxury when more information could be wrung from the informal setting. She was already successfully breaking down this woman’s sorry little boundaries.

   A snorted laugh echoed around the bathroom.

“No! I just want you to feel a little fresher. Plus you got nice hair, it’s an easy length to work with I mean.” She finished a little awkwardly. Well the snort told her that her captors chosen line of work was a million miles away from Hair and Beauty,  despite her apparent natural abilities with her hands… but that was unimportant and should be disregarded…mmm…so nice though.

   A final rinse left her hair feeling squeaky clean. Already she felt a million dollars. She heard her captor dry her hands on a towel and to her surprise move around before her despite her blindfold being removed. Looking up she faced a very tall, at least five eleven, dark haired Mickey Mouse. Blazing blues peeked out the eyeholes in the plastic kids mask.

“Well Mickey, so we meet again.” She drawled, “The last time was at Magic Castle and I believe I was ten years old. I still have the photo and I shall hand it over to the authorities and have you hunted down like the rat you are!”

“Squeak…” came the alarmed respond accompanied with a flash of laughing blue from behind the plastic eyeholes.

“So why the hell can’t you wear that all day and let me go without a freakin blindfold!” she demanded.

“Cos it’s too sweaty and I’ll get a heat rash.” Mickey answered adamantly. “Now wash yourself with your free hand and call when you want out. There’s loads of hot water so feel free to top up the bath.” With that she left, leaving the door open.

   Lifting the soap she began to lather her shoulders and arms, singing at the top of her lungs… “Whoooo’s the leader of the club that’s made for you and meeeeeee…..M.I.C.K.E.Y.M.O.U.S.E....Hey there, Ho there, Hi there. You’re as welcome as can beeeeee……M.I.C.K.E.Y.M.O.U….”

   A few yards up the hallway, hunched over her PC in a small bedroom cum office the tall dark figure groaned at the off key refrain. She was beginning to suspect she had bitten off more than she could chew.

Part Three

   It had been one hour and forty minutes now; the bath had been topped up four times. How long did it take to get clean? Even sea lions came out of the water to bask sometimes!

“Ooooh Mickeee you’re so fine. You’re so fine you blow my mind, Heey Mickeee.” Splash, splash, splash! “Heey Mickeee.” Splash, splash!

That tuneless singing had been going on forever, “I’m gonna drown her! I don’t care about the money I’m gonna drown her…or make her eat that bar of soap!”

   Just then the minute attention she had been struggling to give to a particularly complex line of code was shattered by a lusty bellow from the bathroom.

“Mickeeee! There’s no more hot water!”

Sighing heavily she rolled back her chair and pulling down the mask from her forehead ambled down to the bathroom, picking up some clean boxers and a T shirt from the airing cupboard as she passed. This was worse than having a toddler. She was mad to think this would work.

   “Whoooo’s the leader of the club that’s made for you and…” started up again in a key that had surely never been scored for the song. Bursting into the saturated bathroom she thundered out of sheer exasperation at a mornings work lost.

“If you don’t shut up I’ll leave you sitting there until you turn into a frozen, waterlogged prune!”

Silence as her yell echoed acoustically off the tiled walls. Big green eyes looked up at her through a tufted fringe of snow blond hair. The naked little body with knees pulled up in the name of decorum glowed pink and wet, she was adorable sitting there like a little pixie. Shit! Where did that thought come from? She was not adorable she was sleeping with the enemy…the big, corporate, evil, code stealin enemy!

    Another flash of luminous green irises and it seemed as if assessment, decision and course of action had all been decided in a literal blink.

She’d

“Well, Hey there, Hi there, Ho there to you too! Can I get out now please? The water’s gone cold.”

With an exasperated sigh she set the clean clothing down and pulled out her cuffs key from her sweats pocket releasing the hand from the bath handle.

“I’m gonna let you dry and dress yourself. Fresh tampons are in the cabinet. I’m gonna stand in the hall with the door open so don’t try anything stupid, okay? The window is locked.”

“Okay…perv.” She muttered under her breath.

“Hey! I heard that! I am not a perv.”

“Yea, lurking outside ladies bathrooms wearing a Mickey Mouse mask. Fersure you’re no perv.”

   Later that afternoon she was again tethered blindfold to the bed listening to a tape of Charlottes Web that had been dug out from a bottom drawer. Not exactly what she had in mind but better than nothing.

“Mmmm Ginette?”  the voice came from the door, “Can I ask you something?” The tape was switched off and she felt the weight of another body sitting on the edge of the bed. “Victoria Gresham, your girlfriend. She is around isn’t she? Ah, she’s not off travelling or anything is she?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well what I mean is….it’s just that…well…”

“What do you mean?”

“Mmmm…well you see…”

“What the fuck do you mean?”

The expletive startled her captor into short silence. She decided to wait it out and see the reaction. After deep sigh her abductor began again.

“She hasn’t answered any of my mails. And, I mean, you two are getting along aren’t you?”

“Your mails?”

“Yea, I have her private email addy and I been sending my demands directly to her, but she’s blanking me.” Another deep and pained sigh, “Ginette, how well were you getting on before I…well kidnapped you?”

Silence as this was digested. Then,

“You mean you’re sending emails as ransom demands? How the hell can you make sure they’re not traceable?”

Her abductor was clearly surprised at the question.

“Hey I’m in the business, I can cope. Nothing comes back to me that I don’t want.” She cleared her throat a little, uncomfortable at shelling out more information than was needed. Damn!

   “And what exactly do you mean her own private email? Where exactly have you been sending these…demands to?” An email address was reeled off to her that made her heart turn cold. She knew no-one would be picking up on this mailbox, it was a practically redundant one used for domestic purposes, never business, just shopping and vacation planning and no-one was going to open it soon. Shit, this idiot’s ransom demands were bouncing off into the ether. She could be tied up here until her eightieth birthday at this rate. 

     “Well try another one for Gods sake. I can’t wait around all day for monies to be exchanged. I need to get outta here.” Panic crept into her voice though she tried to quell it. A large warm hand rested reassuringly just above her knee. It startled her and her cuffs clanked noisily against the bedrails, the hand quickly withdrew.

“I did. I tried your own. I figured when she noticed you were missing one of the first things that would happen is your mail would be checked.”

“Mine?”

“Yup. Ginette.Felstrom @blahblah.com. Hey, I know you think I’m a bumbler but I’m really quite smart. Smart enough to have my Intellectual Copyright stolen by your girlfriend!”

“Yup, that sounds pretty smart to me Mickey.”

“Are you being sarcastic? This is the perfect plan…except nobody seems to be listening to me. It should have taken less than 3 hours tops, and here we are into day two! Are you sure she’s not out of town or something? I mean surely to God she’ll be climbing the walls cos you’re gone?”

“Well, actually…we split up.”

“What!” there was that stupefying bellow again. This woman really was an idiot.

“We split up. Separated. Broke up. Ended our relationship. Went separate ways. Fell out of love. Had an emotional melt down. Needed space. Took time out. Divor….”

“What!” more of a stupefied squeak now.

“I’d love to see your face right now. I’m sure it’s a picture.” She couldn’t help smirking. Not the smartest thing to do, but so enjoyable. “Look, why don’t you just let me go. Drive me into the wilds and dump me. Let me find my own way home…like Lassie. Please? No one is looking for me. They’ll all think I’ve dropped out to nurse a broken heart somewhere.”

Silence, though she could have sworn she heard the squeak of un-lubricated cogs in the others head rustily turning as she tried to think of an alternative strategy.

“Shit, I’ve gotta think. I’ve gotta think.” She finally muttered. Then she rose and leant over to release the cuffs binding them to the front for the first time. “Come on, dinner time. I can hear your stomach starting to gurgle. I did a nice casserole for tonight.”

   She led the way to the kitchen, this time holding her bound hands rather than escorting her by the upper arm. Hmmm, thought her captive, isn’t this cosy. Cosy and interesting.

Out loud she asked, “What kind of casserole? Chicken?”

   “I can’t believe you’re putting me to bed early. I’ve done nothing but lie on that bed all frigging day. I’ll get bedsores!”

“It’s not early it’s late, now shut up and go to sleep. I got tons of work to catch up on.”

“It is not dark! This blindfold doesn’t shut out the light you know. It must be only eight o’clock at the latest. Between my burst and bleeding ears from your crappy music and an ulcerous back you’re going down for a long, long time lady!”

“Just can it okay and get back into bed this minute. I’ll leave the radio on. You can listen to late night chatline if you’re good.”

“Late night chatline? That won’t start for another four hours…it’s the middle of the day remember!”

“Christ you are one moaning little bitch. You’ll listen to whatever’s on okay.

Now I got work to do.”

“Hey,” as she was chained her to the bed again. “please, cut me some slack? Just enough to scratch my nose or turn the radio dial if you leave it close enough?”

“The blindfold…” the other started.

“Does it matter too much now you have the mask? Please Mickey, I promise not to take it off. Just one hand free…please? Pleeeease?”

Silence. Good, good she’s thinking about it…sucker. Then,

“No.”

“What!”

“No. I can’t trust you not to mess with the blindfold. And I can’t take the risk of you seeing me. Sorry kiddo, no can do.”

“Nooooo! My arms are gonna fall off! My shoulders are aching…”

“Oh for gods sake. Look, what I’ll do is lengthen one tether by a few inches. I’ll set the radio right up close to your hand on the bedside table alright. See you can reach the dial now.” This was announced with what sounded like a smile in her voice. “Now I gotta go and do some work. I’ll check in on you later. Okay?”

The petite woman lay there glowering, “Yea, Okay,” she growled at the retreating footsteps. Now what? She had hoped for a free hand, a hairclip, a minute to work on the cuffs lock and voila! Freedom. It always worked in the movies, but then the movies didn’t have a big dufus to write into the script.

   She listened idly to the radio for a few hours until it did grew dark. Then decided to put her new found freedom to the test and try and work the dial. The late night chatline show was actually a favourite and she might as well try to catch it. She reached over easily to the bedside table. Fumbling she found the radio, a quick swipe with her freer hand revealed the table surface was bare. Then she realised the little cabinet was on castors. Cautiously she  began to manoeuvre it around with her hand until the knob of the drawer was facing her. It opened easily. Oh thank god, it was full of junk and with any luck she might find that hairclip yet. The movie escape plot was back on track.

     The small drawer was stuffed to overflowing and being blindfolded it began to feel like a game trying to identify the contents. A knot of silk scarves, no doubt her blindfolds, a container of pills, elastic bands, a book mark…until her hand came across cold metal and stilled. She withdrew instinctively recognising the chilly texture of a handgun even though she had never held one before in her life. Holding her breath she reached out again, checking she had it by its handle and not any trigger happy bits she gently withdrew it. It was heavier than she imagined a gun should be. The criminal element must be really strong she couldn’t imagine waving something this heavy at a bank teller. Gingerly she set it down beside the radio. What if it suddenly went off and shot her in the head?! What the fuck was she gonna do blindfolded with a gun anyway, except play Russian roulette with dufus out there. And if it came down to it could she actually shoot dufus if she had to?  Well…probably.

   Setting the question aside along with the gun she gingerly dipped her hand back into the drawer. This time she found a cylinder shaped thing. She cradled it in her hand turning it dexterously with her fingers. Was it a component of the gun? Was it a silencer, an ammo holder? She felt relieved at the sudden thought the gun might not be loaded. Her Braille like examination found and fumbled a small switch.

    Flicking it almost accidentally the object buzzed into angry action and leapt out of her startled hand. She screamed at the top of her lungs, it was an incendiary device! The nutter had guns and explosives tucked away everywhere! Her screaming continue as she vainly tried to lunge up from the  bed, her cuffs bruising and grazing her wrists, the metal bedhead shrieking  alongside her. The device had rolled in under the bed like a hand grenade. For all she knew she only had seconds left on this earth before the timer buzzed off and the blast began.  Both feet on the floor, her back at an unnatural twist she almost lifted the bed from the wall with her wrists alone so great was her panic to get away.

    Footsteps came thundering down the hallway.

“What the hell!” a dive under the bed and instantly the buzzing stopped. The heaving sobs didn’t.

“Hey, hey.” The voice hushed as warm arms wrapped round her still struggling body. “Hush, now it’s okay.” The cuffs were released and she was turned and enfolded in strong arms, her tear streaked face buried into a soft breast. God but this woman was tall.

“Was it a bomb?” she hiccupped between receding sobs.

“No.” the voice above her trembled with a suppressed laughter she could feel reverberating in the chest under her cheek. “It was a vibrator.” 

This did nothing to quell her upset and a fresh round of crying ensued.

“I…I found a gun, and then that thing just went off in my hand. And you’re a lu…lunatic and you’ve brought me here and kidnapped m…me…” the tears flowed so heavily they seeped under the drenched blindfold.

“Hush, now hush. You were never in any danger…and you never will be.”

“You had a gun! I found it!”

“No, it’s just a replica from the Civil War. I’m surprised you could even lift it.” Between tears, hiccups and a runny nose she was mopped up and back rubbed and slowly manoeuvred back to the bed where her wet puffy eyes were recovered with a fresh silk fold and she was lain down to be re-cuffed.

 “Please don’t tie me up. Please. I’m scared.”

“Hush now, stop crying. It’s alright, there’s nothing to be scared of.”

“If something goes wrong I’ll be stuck here and starve to death and your dog will eat me before my body’s found.”

“I don’t have a dog. I’ll hold you until you sleep.”

“Flies then, flies will lay eggs in me.” The bed creaked as a second body lay down behind her and spooned around her.

“No flies this time of year. Hush now.” An arm wrapped around her waist pulling her back into a warm belly and breasts. Long, strong thighs cradled the backs of her own bare legs. Both were wearing boxers and Ts for night attire. It was warm and intimate and she sighed slightly at the human contact she hadn’t realised she missed during the chilly breakdown of her relationship. Cried out to the point of exhaustion she drifted off to sleep on what was no more than an exhaled sigh.

Part Four

   She was so small and defenceless curled up inside of her. The wispy blond hair tickled her chin so she moved her head slightly, careful not to wake the sleeping woman. This subtle movement accidentally grazed her lips against the softly pulsing neck. The touch raised goose bumps along the arm that cradled her sleeping captive. Stilling her breathing she listened, the touch had not disturbed her. Taking a chance she reached in again and placed a deliberate kiss on the same spot. She sighed deeply at the rush that ran through her body and curved her thighs up tighter caressing the underside of  those in front of hers. A warm tingle spread in her lower belly, strangely familiar although she hadn’t felt that way for so, so long. Cradling her stolen cargo closer, her hand resting on a gently rising and falling belly she smiled with an inner contentment as she too drifted into sleep.

   Deep into the night their legs must have become entwined and their mutual body heat a solder. Contentment, warmth and protective proximity combined in the smaller woman’s dreams and the firm thigh that had crept between her legs as they slept became a supple saddle upon which she began to gently but firmly undulate. The dark one, in a lighter sleep responded to the soft grind by pushing her thigh against the growing heat and damp. Her hand moved to cup a rounded breast, the hardened point sitting perfectly in the heart of her palm. Long fingers began a slow massage which drew extra firmness from the pouting tip and a deep throaty moan from her sleeping partner. Sighing in response her own lips began to baby suck as they nestled into the shoulder of her sleeping companion. As her lips touched skin the suck turned in to an open kiss on the sensitive spot where neck met shoulder. It drew groans from both women and pulled them into a semi conscious world of warmth and darkness and the moist earthiness of their own sex scent.

   Hands still tied to the bedhead she turned onto her back as hot lips trailed from throat to mouth. She eagerly sucked in the offered tongue, rolling it around her own, her hunger free and raw in the half reality she drifted in. The heavier body moved to cover hers increasing the weight and connection between her legs, which she now opened wide to accept full pressure upon her aching cunt. She thrust up repeatedly, grinding any part of her she could into the mound pressing down with equal urgency. Greedy hands mauled her breasts until they pulsed and ached, her clitoris responding to every twitch and rub on her swollen nipples.

   She broke away to draw in air, “Oh god, fuck me, fuck me now.” forced from a tightened throat, dry from the gasp she took at every pelvic lunge.  Her captivity buffering her from cold reality allowing her to wallow in her sleepy sex fused dream world. The T was rucked up exposing her tits to the cool air before a hungry mouth descended to suckle on her fiercely. She arched her back pushing her flesh further onto the demanding tongue, hungry for more. The ties and blindfold for once in her life freeing her from the need to take and be in control, she gave herself up unconditionally to her body’s demands. As teeth and tongue rolled and nipped one sensitive bud, her other nipple was tormented by fingers pulling and twisting making her squirm under the body above, craving to find the right pressure, the right touch on her engorged clit.  A sheen of sweat coated her skin, the scent of herself rising between them, her boxers soaked through, “Please,” she begged, “please. Fuck me.” knowing her bondage left her free to beg.

   The weight shifted and lifted, her tits covered with spit puckered even harder in the sudden coolness, then sodden boxers were stripped down and off her legs. Drawers slammed and rattled across the room and then a few minutes later the bed sank again as the other returned. Her knees were taken and splayed exposing her intimately, opening up her moist cunt for inspection, she heard a lustful groan from above. Then a tentative tug on the tampon string...shit, she’d forgotten. No wonder she was so horny! Slowly it was withdrawn and the tip of a finger was gently introduced, teasing her seeping entry. She growled a luxurious moan at the flashfire of sensation rippling over her skin burning into the pit of her belly.

   Encouraged by the writhing groan the fingertip pushed in deeper.

“You’re so tight.” she breathed in awe as her finger, now up to its hilt began pumping slowly drawing more moans. A second finger was added without too much difficulty her sheath was so wet, and then a third. She gasped at that, feeling already brimful, but the steady persistent rhythm eased the cone of fingers slowly in. The pumping stopped to be replaced with a grinding twist making her grunt and try to bear down. Her clitoris was screaming for attention, she jerked as suddenly the fingers were withdrawn leaving her aching and empty. She could smell the tang of her blood.

   A new pressure bore down on her centre, larger and harder. The body above covered her, thighs were pushed wider apart to accommodate the others hips. Her legs rode round  firm buttocks to clasp tighter, whimpering as the thick dildo slowly inched into her.  Long hair brushed across her face seconds before her mouth was claimed by a plundering tongue. They swallowed each others moans.  Fingers returned to her now relaxed nipples and roughly drew them back to attention before twisting and pulling causing the soft tissue to swell. She was bucking now under these new sensations using her tether as leverage, pushing up on each cunt stretching inch, trying to take it all, wanting it, wanting Mickey in her, fucking her, making her come.

   “Oh baby, oh baby. Slow.” She moaned between the deepest kisses, the circumference was wide and she was anxious she couldn’t accommodate it even as she so wanted it. Then with one last nudge and slip her inner walls gave up all resistance to the constant pressure and the entire shaft was finally embedded inside her, brimful and hard. “Oh god...god…” she called out as she arched and stilled, simultaneously pained, panicked and pleasured.

    Rising up and over her she watched the smaller woman’s as mouth as she slowly poured the last thick inches inside of her. That beautiful mouth, she didn’t need to see the covered eyes to know the pleasure and sensuality she was giving her. The soft pout of the lips told her all, she could feel the sensuous thrills rippling through the body beneath her.

   Once soundly in up to the hilt she pulled back partially and began to pump, slowly at first then as she felt the walls clasp and accommodate the thick phallus she gave more length increasing the speed. The cries only stoked her ardour and she ploughed on deeper and harder. Thighs cradled her pounding hips, heels rose to rest on her buttocks pushing and kicking, spurring her on like she was a pony, like she was the one being ridden. She pushed up to full arms length and gazed in wonder at the body writhing under her, at the beautiful tits bouncing with each of her thrusts, at the head thrown back with  throaty moans of lust. She wanted to give it all, she wanted her to come like a hurricane, wanted to give everything she had to her.

   She quickly withdrew and rose up on her knees gazing in wonder at the sodden folds so swollen and gaping with the sudden abandon. Vacated by but so ready for her return the power of this woman’s need made her tingle all over.

“Nooo!” came the half cry half growl, in panting panic.

“Roll over.” She stated simply. The smaller woman hesitated but only for a moment before twisting awkwardly on her tethers onto her belly.

“On your knees.” The room was filled with heavy panting, each ragged with anticipation. Brief hesitation and then she slowly began to comply. She was half way raised when large hands roughly grabbed her hips and yanked her up into position one hand reached forward pushing her head down so that her ass was roundly presented.

   Re-positioning she re-entered with no delay, the shaft was firmly and rigorously pushed against the sodden entrance already reamed to accommodate it. Hauling the soft buttocks back into her she thrust forward and continued to pummel fast and furious. The blonde screamed into her pillow, curving her back to present more of her ass, eager to assist in her own fucking. She was thundered into with forceful grunts, the moist slapping telling all about her sodden state of arousal.

   As suddenly as it started all motion ceased, the dildo was barely an inch inside her and she wanted its full length to fill her up, to thump into her and push her over this agonising edge.

This bitch is torturing me, her mind screamed.

“Oh god, finish me, just finish me.”  She groaned in agony at this new torment. She tried to wiggle back on the bulbous head that sat gloating just inside her twitching crack. Yelping as she received a stinging slap on her behind.

“No!”

     Grabbed by the shoulders her head was pulled up and level, breasts swinging freely until large hands reached round to squeeze and milk them. Rough fingers coarsely rubbing the nipples tweaking the candy nubs until they were bruised and numb.  She moaned loudly and quivered impaled on the rounded tip resting barely inside her, aching for it to plunge in and fill her. Fingers trailed down her belly to her mound, pushing through the damp curls they found her engorged clit, and cupped it gently. She whimpered, trembling on her knees, hands tied before her, she knew what was coming, and every nerve instinctively screamed for it.

    Primed, at last her girl was fully primed, the dick coiled and waiting at the mouth of her frothy sheath, her fingers cupping but not touching the bulging clitoris, other hand boldly massaging a full pliant breast. She waited above, hung over her, the stillness only broken by her harsh rasps and the others whimpers. Then her fingers closed to pinch the engorged clitoris, at the same time she thrust forward and remorselessly pounded the dildo in deep over and over. The blond exploded in a long wail of release, as she bucked and pushed beneath her. Curved back and thrashing hips. She could actually feel the clitoris pulsing between her hard finger tips. In a flash of white light she came herself carried by the power of her own stimulation and the sheer joy of making her lover cum screaming.

      Exhausted they both lay dragging breath into their lungs.

“Untie me. Please. Please, for just a moment.” gasped the blond in sweaty disarray. Relaxed and compliant she did so, placing the cuff key on the bedside cabinet.

“That was fantastic, Ginette. So good, so good.” She mumbled in damp honeyed tresses, cuddling her lover who lay quivering like jelly. “We’re so good together.” Little kisses were dropped on a spent blond head.

    Moments passed before she wrestled to her feet moving away to undo the harness and rid herself of the redundant dick.

“I’m not Ginette.” The voice came quietly from behind her.

Turning at the words she had only a surprised instant to register the civil war replica as it caught her on the temple. She went down like a ton of bricks. As vicious consciousness seeped away plunging her into darkness floating somewhere above her she heard…

“I’m Victoria. You grabbed the wrong one, asshole.”

Part Five

    “Hey, Abbot? Abbott, wake up. Abbott McKenzie, I got your money here for you…”

Her eyelids fluttered, they felt like they’d been stapled to her cheeks it was so hard and painful to peel them open. She moaned at the pain ripping through her head with each pulse. What had happened, was she hung-over? She had sworn never to drink like this again.

“Ah, I thought that might bring you round.”

That voice! Her eyes flew open and simultaneously she became aware she was tied to the bed and a blonde head hovered to the right of her field of vision, Ginette! Victoria! What the…I’m naked!

“Well Abbott,” the bed sank a little as Victoria perched on the edge leaning across to catch her eyes directly. She felt she could swim in the cool green before her, like a forest pool, stained with lichen. No sooner had she thought it than the same eyes coolly ran over her nude body. She squirmed a little, her cheeks grew hot. A small smile quirked the corner of her captor’s mouth as a warm hand landed smack flat on her belly causing her to jerk against her binds.

Shit! My feet are tied too. What the fuck is going on here, her panicked mind shrieked?

     “Well Abbot.” Victoria continued, “Actually I think I prefer Mickey, so Mickey it is. I’ve been through all your papers and apart from confirming you’re a big fat loser I cannot find what I’m looking for.”

She stared at the confused and startled woman spread naked on the bed before her. She quite liked this situation. It was new to her she didn’t go in for kinky games with Ginette or any of the others before her. But for the moment there was some business to conclude, and then she could extract her revenge on this gormless big geek. She tore her eyes away this would not do, not do at all, she had to concentrate better than this.

     “If you were intelligent enough to ask me what I’m looking for, and let’s pretend you are and you have. I’d say to you I need to know the details of this ransom demand you’ve made, the reasons behind it and why it’s not been met. And believe me these details are the only reason your ass isn’t on display at the ‘come one come all’ shower stall in the nearest Woman’s Penitentiary. So what say you buy yourself a little time and work with me on this? You mentioned something earlier about infringed Intellectual Copyright. I assume you were referring to yourself and your own…intellect?”  Sarcasm dripped from her tongue like ice water.

Silence.

Victoria sighed. Her hand gracefully trailed down the flat belly to the mound of crisp black curls.

“First of all I need to know your log on and password.”

“No way!” Abbott aka Mickey spluttered flabbergasted, “If you think for one momen….aahk!”

Victoria had her quite literally by the short and curlys and was tugging hard.

“Log on!”

“Aah! You’re hurting me! I never hurt you…”

“Ooh, so you think there are rules to this? Where are they? Maybe in the A to Z of Abduction, near the back in the Glossary? No?” Victoria spat, a small sharp tug punctuating every other word. “Because I looked and couldn’t find them so I thought I might as well make them up as I go along. Or maybe I should consult Kidnapping for Dummies? But wait, I believe you’ve still to write that…from your prison cell! The one you’ll probably share with Big Mean 500lb Bertha and her wooden dick. ” The twists and tugs grew harder as Mickey yelped.

“Tell me, or so help me god I’ll pluck your snatch one hair at a time!”

Another vicious tug followed by a yelp.

She leant in a breathed in Mickey’s ear, “Bertha probably likes shaved cunt.”

     Mickey glared at her as she leant back to casually regard her fingers enmeshed in the thick tight curls down below. Victoria felt a lust rush but quelled it putting it down to a residue from the sex they’d had a few hours ago and the heady power she was feeling over this woman’s lean and attractive body.

“Gods woman have you never heard of personal grooming? It’s like the Black Forest down there. You need a good trim. Have you any wax?” she snapped. More yelps at another harsh tug.

“Okay, okay it’s abbo01, password frisb33, with 3s instead of Es.” Mickey caved; she had a pain threshold so low an earthworm couldn’t limbo under it.

Her belly was patted affectionately.

“Good girl.” Victoria rose and left the room.

Mickey watched the retreating back from her prone position, her head raised her sex still stinging with the hauling her pubic hair had taken.

My god, what a bitch! Mickey thought aghast. Her head dropped back onto the pillow. She was flummoxed and worried this whole crappy out of control escapade had just taken a turn for the absolute worst.

abbo01 – frisb33…click.

‘Please could you deliver $250,000 in unmarked…’

PLEASE? Please? What a chump! What sort of a ransom demand was this pile of snivelling, whimpering mush? My God if she’d received this toilet sheet of a ransom note for the return of Ginette she’d have hunted down the little perp and wiped her…Hey! Ginette had received this tearstained effort.  So why wasn’t it being dealt with? Ginette had rings on her pinkies worth more than this paltry amount. What was going on?

    Further investigation proved that the mail had been received and opened. In fact so had a couple others on the same sorrowful theme, and all were being ignored it would seem? Did her ex think it was some sort of hoax? Maybe this was this the way the police chose to deal with it? Nah, something was wrong here, something didn’t add up.

     Back in the bed room she stood over the prone woman, the cool air delightfully pebbling the exposed nipples and goose-fleshing her skin. For a nano-second Victoria had a flashback to the thunderous mind numbing orgasm this body had brought her. She blinked hard to clear that same mind.

     “You know something? I wouldn’t leave you in charge of a church collection plate never mind a ransom note. What a load of puke! ‘Please Ma’am can I have some of your money’…” she whined.

Mickey lay there mortified.

“Well it’s not like I write them everyday!” she shot back. “And I didn’t want to sound threatening cos I’m not a threatening person!” she added with righteous gusto.

“You drugged me you maniac! And tied me up in a cellar! And had a gun and a bomb!”  Victoria bellowed at her.

“I did not drug you! And it was a pretend gun and you hit me with it, hard, and the bomb was a vibrator anyway!” she yelled back. “And I don’t even have a cellar…it was a garage.” She finished contritely.

“You raped me!”

Silence, then…“I never!” Mickey’s eyes darkened with distress. “I never Gin…Vict…I never. Don’t say that.” She finished softly, hurt and shame pulsing from her face in waves of scarlet.

Victoria shifted uncomfortably, “Well…I was blindfolded and tied up and...” She muttered feeling suddenly very dishonest. “Hey! What did you mean you didn’t drug me?” Her head snapped up.

“I mean I didn’t drug you. I found you drunk on the kitchen floor.”

“For your information I was drugged. And you’re trying to tell me you just happened along, presumed I was drunk, picked me up and brought me here? Charming! I suppose that’s the only way you can get women into this…shack.”

“What do you mean?” Mickey stated hotly.

“I mean I’ve been looking around while you were dreaming of Dixie. This…’cabin’…is in the middle of Hicksville USA, there is probably not a sane person between here and the nearest jerky hut, fishin’ hole, or stained woollen vest emporium!”

“It’s picturesque.” Mickey defended her home, “And it was my granddaddies!”

“Well grand-daddy lived in Redneck Central right next to Inbreeds-Are-Us and now so do you, all alone playing with your computer…and yourself. Think I haven’t seen your little box of tricks.”  She indicated with her head the dresser drawer. Mickey’s face flamed.

“Yea.” sneered Victoria, “All your catalogue sex toys. And you know the real sad thing Mickey? They’re all unused…except of course for the vibrator.”

Oh yea? Well the dildo was more than broken in last night. Mickey glowered to herself, but had the sense not to say it.

“Why did you want to kidnap Ginette in the first place? What has it to do with Intellectual Copyright?” Victoria went straight into business mode now she had suitably annoyed and unsettled her adversary.

“You stole my idea.”

“As your employer?”

“Yes.”

“As your employer all your work ideas are mine. You get recompensed and credit but the patent belongs to the company.”

“Well if I say you stole it then you stole it! I got no compensation and I got fired! You gypped me Victoria Gresham and I wanted to get my own back!”

“$250,000 worth of compensation? Must have been a real bean-picker of an idea. What was it?”

“Code FX90.”

Victoria stilled. That little bit of programming had proved invaluable and given her company a real edge over their competitors. It ran a little calibration and valuation code that gave her predictive statistics and damn good trend factoring and forecasting. All in all a little honey of a tool.

“Kevin Phillips submitted that.”

“Yea, the bastard was my supervisor. You all conspired against me and got me booted out...”

“No I mean Kevin Phillips said it was his own work. I have no idea who you are. I’ve never heard of an Abbott McKenzie.”

Mickey frowned, biting her lip. Victoria moved over to the dresser and pulled out some clean sweats and thick socks.

“I think Kevin stole your idea, your money and got you kicked out before you knew what was happening. Did any of your former colleagues know what you were working on?” She untied the feet and dragged the sweat pants up the long tanned legs. “Lift your ass a little.” She hauled them snug up to the waist.

“No. I didn’t mix much. We were a quiet bunch.”

     Victoria rolled her eyes, Geeks! She uncuffed one wrist and dropped the top over the freed arm and head. Re-cuffing she released the second arm and dragged the top securely into position. Next she secured both hands behind Mickey’s back.

“So you’ve no witnesses. And I bet he’s had your machine rebuilt. Any other evidence?” She pulled socks over cold feet and finally picked up her old discarded blindfold and tied it around Mickey’s eyes.

“Only on my own pc here at home. Hey, why the blindfold? I know what you look like?”

“You’ll see soon enough. Come on, let’s go get lunch.” She led her captive towards the door. Only three feet out into the hallway she let go and Mickey walked straight into a wall. Victoria sniggered,

 “I could walk the entire floor plan of your home in a blindfold and bump into nothing. You can’t even find your own kitchen.”

“Well I’ve never had to walk around my own home blindfolded until now have I?”

“And whose fault’s that?”

“Is this why you did it? So I’d knock myself stupid if I tried to run?”

“Well, there ain’t no way you’re ever gonna knock yourself smart.” She grabbed the arm and redirected her ward towards the kitchen, “Not even with a 10lb hammer…” she muttered under her breath.

Part Six:

     “Okay, so you’re the better cook.” Victoria announced crossly as she cleared the table.

“What the hell was that?”

“Omelette.” She answered tersely.

“It was vile. The worst thing I ever did to you was maybe make you sit in a tub of tepid bathwater for what…seven seconds, and you’re making me eat my own placemat…Thank god I was blindfolded.”

“Oh shut up, it wasn’t that bad.”

“It could strangulate my little colon for all I know.”

“Shaddup!”

“Or gimme a hiatus hernia.”

“There’s leftovers you know!”

“Why can’t you chain me to the cooker and I could save both our lives…”

“What barefoot and pregnant? Like all the rest of the Hillbillies around here?”

Mickey fell silent. Victoria came up behind her and wrapped both arms around her shoulders, clasping them in front of her chest causing her to start.

“Don’t you worry Mickeylou, I won’t git you pregnant.” She twanged in a thick Southern cartoon drawl and stood up but not before dropping a mock affectionate kiss on top of the dark head. Her nose wrinkled, “God, you stink.”

     Victoria sat on the toilet seat filing her nails as Mickey clumsily tried to wash the shampoo out of her hair.

“This is impossible with only one hand.”

Victoria looked up, her eyes scanning the lean bronzed body before her, water cascading pornographically down its length.

Now I understand why those Men’s magazines make millions. She mused. Note to self: start porn empire. 

     “If I don’t rinse all the soap out my hair will go frizzy…” Mickey continued to whine, her left wrist had been cuffed to the shower curtain rail above and severely inhibited her movements.

“So what? Your mother won’t recognise you in your mug-shot…ain’t that a good thing? A blessing for her, poor woman.”

     Exasperated Mickey stopped her rinsing and glared at the smug little bitch sitting across from her. “You know I was kind to you. I could have made your past few days miserable but I didn’t…”

“Yea,” bit back Victoria, “It was peachy. Drugged, kidnapped and raped…it’s all going into my autobiography you know. Along with the frizzy mug-shot!”

“I did not drug you! It was not rape. We were together, we made love…had sex…whatever you want to call it. It was consensual Victoria please don’t call it something else.” Mickey was anxious and angry now. The cuffs rattled on the rail. Victoria’s narrowed eyes assessed the strength of the metal bar before continuing.

“Yes, let’s talk about that.” Her green eyes locked with blue, “Because let me assure you I was most definitely drugged.”

     Mickey stood silently as the water continued to stream down her body.

Victoria slowly rose and approached producing a key form her pocket. She looked Mickey square on as she released her hand from the rail.

“You drugged me. And you abducted me. It was premeditated and it was cruel. And yes we had sex, but I was blindfold, scared and alone. You fucked me over on so many levels Abbott, and for what, $250,000? If you’d done your homework on Kevin Phillips you’d have found he got twice that for stealing your work. No wonder you’re such a loser…you’re greedy and you’re lazy.” She snapped both arms behind Mickey again and led her wet and naked to the bedroom.

“Why the fuck didn’t you just get a lawyer instead of Rohypnol.” She sounded disappointed.

     Cosy in a big terry dressing gown Mickey sat tied to the bedroom chair Victoria humming tunelessly as she plaited and played with the long damp hair.

“But I don’t want it plaited. Ow, that’s hurts, stop tugging.” She whined for the third time.

“Shut up Heidi, its plaits for you and your rats’ nest.” Victoria continued working with the hairbrush. “As a little girl I always wanted a Barbie and you know what Santa brought me? A toy supermarket…so much for lesbian feminist parenting!” She wagged her hairbrush in Mickey’s face emphasising a point too vague for her hapless victim to glean. “But let me tell you that was the best run play supermarket in my street. All the neighbourhood kids dropped in to fill their little wheelie carts with the pic n mix I bought for a quarter and sold on at 30% mark up!”

     Mickey rolled her eyes it was easy to see where the multi millionairess Business Woman of the Year three years out of the past five had learned her art.

“So, if Santa had got you a Barbie doll you might have been Hairstylist of the Year?  How good would that be…oww!” Mickey winched as another tat was viciously tugged by her heavy handed hairdresser.

Victoria sighed dreamily, “So true, so true. This is great fun. I’ve always wanted to do this, just never had the right sort of girlfriends…” Mickey almost felt a twinge of pity for the weird chick until both her plaits were clipped in a pretzel shape to the top of her head.

Victoria grinned evilly, “Oh Heidi you look sooo cute.” And began a jarring rendering of “High on a hill was a lonely goatherd …”

Mickey winced again, “No yodelling! I swear to god I’ll throw myself over and knock myself unconscious!”

Sigh, “No appreciation.”

“I can tell as a child you weren’t allowed singing lessons either.”

“Another sore point.” Victoria sighed again and released the plaits, “Okay, no more goatherds. What say we wind them up like Princess Lea? Dedededeeee dededeeee.” an off key Stars Wars theme now filled the room.

“You really are one evil little bitch.” Mickey blurted out before she could stop herself, catching Victoria’s eye she had reason to believe she didn’t know the half of it.

     Mickey spent the rest of the afternoon blindfolded and tied to the bed listening to a perpetual loop of yodelling songs that Victoria had especially downloaded for her.

     Drained of all hope she lay and wondered at the type of mind that could conjure up such torment. Victoria Gresham was a grade ‘A’ little bastard if ever there was one. Despite her musings she couldn’t help a bitter smile crawl over her face at the memory of last night, Mickey found it hard to equate the small woman passionately trembling in her arms with the little harpy casually torturing her now.

    A sudden spike of heat in her belly gave a physical reminder that the lust she had felt still simmered under the surface in danger at any minute of breaking into a rolling boil. Mickey had a nagging feeling that last night the tables had been turned on her long before she had been clubbed with the replica gun, she suspected she had also ambushed herself with the unexpected emotional responses she’d had for her small prisoner. Sighing heavily through the thirtieth rendition of melodious cowbells and Austrian chortlings she finally admitted she had been round-housed not only on the head but Full Square on the heart as well.

   Click! All sound suddenly and mercifully ceased as Victoria’s finger slammed down on the Stop button. The blindfold was whipped away and Mickey looked blearily up into an alarmed face.

“She took it all!” she blurted at Mickey, eyes wild with disbelief.

“What?”

“She cleared my account. Accounts…”

“What?”

“Ginette cleared all the money out of my bank accounts.”

“What?”

“Oh for gods sake, any more watts and you’d be a light bulb!”

Victoria flumped down heavily onto the mattress making Mickey bounce slightly.

“Are you telling me she’s cleared all the money out of your bank accounts when she should be paying me my ransom?”

“Ransom? Ransom? Who’s chained to the bed here, dufus? “

“What I mean is, are you saying she’s clearing you out while she should have been paying the ransom?”

“Of course I’m saying that, don’t you listen?”

“How do you know? Did you check online?”

“No I sent a pigeon to my bank manager. Of course I checked online. I wanted to know why she was ignoring your pathetic bleats for money. And now I do; the bitch took the opportunity to clean me out while you had me conveniently locked away.”

As Mickey digested this Victoria continued bitterly,

“And the real charm is she’ll say she took it to pay a ransom demand, but I doubt you’ll see any of the money.”

“And she’s cleared all the money out of your bank accounts? Bitch! We’ve got to stop her!”

“And how pray, you have me stuck out here in the anus of Moonshine County!  The money is already gone. And besides, the accounts she’s plundered…well I can’t exactly go to the police, lets put it that way.” Victoria sighed bitterly, “She knows what she’s doing all right, taking advantage of my absence to get away with millions.”

“Millions!” Mickey squeaked.

Victoria sighed again and sat in silence looking very glum.

“We’ve got to trace it.” Mickey continued to squeak. “She has to put that sort of amount somewhere traceable, it’s hardly in the glove compartment of her car!”

“The whole idea is that it can’t be traced. It was with an intermediary organisation…a shell company I created to hold my…bonuses.” She shot a sideways glance at her prone companion.

“You mean a laundering house?” Mickey had her voice back under control after that first shock. “Somewhere FinCen can’t find it?”

Victoria winced at the mention of the Financial Crimes Enforcement Network as if Mickey had just spat out the most disgusting expletive ever.

 Mickey watched the reaction and rattled her cuffs on the metal bedhead, “Free me. I can find your money. Bet you $250,000 I can!”

    Four hours thirteen minutes later Mickey had finally pinpointed Ginette’s e-signature across several dubious international organisations to a company in Malta. It dealt in currency exchange in a country with extremely high financial caps and lax legislation so seemed ideal for yet another layer of the complex offshore networks Ginette had been moving the stolen money through.

     “My god,” breathed Victoria as she leaned over Mickey’s shoulder and glared at the myriad of pages the woman was pulling up to mark the transferrals. “I’d never have believed she had it in her. I always thought she was kinda dumb around finance at this level. Boy was I ever wrong.”

“She can’t be that dumb, she works for you.” Mickey’s comment was heavily loaded.

Victoria shot her a sharp glance, “In Human Resources. How did you know that?”

“I used to work for you too, remember. It was open gossip that your lesbian lover was an employee.”

“She had a good job she won on her own merit, and she had decided to keep it even after we split up. I never ever saw this side if her. God such opportunism…I kind of admire her for it.”

     Mickey finally sat back sighing, “Well admire away. There’s all your money sitting in or well on its way to Malta.” She casually waved a hand at the screen, “Her entry point was easy as you’d already set up bogus shell companies in several tax havens.” Mickey cast her companion a hard look, “You had so many networks it was simple for her to slowly nudge large amounts through them to the outer edge and then finally let them drop off into her own new accounts. But thankfully for us they are all under the same Maltese holding company. She’s basically slowly smurfing all your dollars to Maltese Liri.”

“Smurfing?”

“Transferring in it small parcels, say a couple of hundred thousand dollars at a time so as not to tip off even the Maltese Financial Authorities that something stinks. She’s opened several false accounts, but all the funds aren’t there yet, there’s still large amounts to be siphoned off from some offshore facilities…they may even be your own clandestine ones.”

Victoria scanned the details Mickey pulled up on the screen, “Yea, you’re right, I recognise these. So how do I get the money out of Malta?”

“Well you can’t. All I can do it show you where it is, but it’s all under her control now. She’s covered herself with several shells too. Seems you taught her well, even if it was by osmosis.”

Victoria sighed, this seemed as far as she could go for the meantime. The next step required a little more thought and a possible confrontation with her ex girlfriend somewhere, somehow.

     They both sat there in contemplative silence until a deep belly growl drew them into the present. Mickey glanced down at Victoria’s stomach she had the grace to blush at the gurgling protests coming from it.

Mickey looked up a knowing twinkle in her eye,

“Time for supper it seems.”

   Part Seven

      “Chop them thinner than that…no, that’s too thin, they’ll frizzle up.”

“Well you do it yourself then!” exasperated Victoria threw down the knife.

“Ahem?” Mickey rattled the cuffs that attached her to the stove.

“No. If I let you go the first thing you’ll do is hit me with the frying pan and run outta here to Mexico. Think I don’t watch the movies?”

“The first thing I’d do is run outta here to the nearest restaurant. I’m famished and if you don’t let me cook us a decent meal we’ll both die from starvation!”

Victoria’s stomach growled again on cue. Mickey held the green gaze, pressing home her advantage. “And the flies will lay eggs in our distorted bloated bodies.”

The green eyes widened in horror.

     “God that was delicious!” Victoria moaned as she pushed back her chair.

Standing she stacked the empty plates and moved them to the sink. One wrist cuffed to the table leg Mickey stood too and leaned across the table top to tidy up the cruet set, her short terry robe rode up revealing the curve of her bottom where it met the gentle swell of her hamstrings.

Turning from the sink Victoria stilled as she drank the rounded sweep of tanned flesh. Mickey must have felt her gaze for she looked over her shoulder, suddenly aware the robe was revealing part of her ass. Her eyes darkened and an unsettled look flitted over her face. Victoria felt her own face flush with embarrassment at being caught looking.   

“Don’t worry I’m not into sexual molestation.” She snapped angrily, surprised at the aggression that had crept into her voice.

“I didn’t think you were.” Mickey came back sharply anger sparking in her eyes too. She was tired of the never-ending implications that last night had not been mutual. It was not her cross to bear that Victoria Gresham had problems processing her own sexual needs and behaviour.

     Still glaring at her Victoria moved to release Mickey, “Let’s go to the lounge and think about the money. We gotta get it back somehow.” She dangled the keys suggestively in front of the taller woman’s nose, “New deal; I need your help and I’ll pay for it. Whether we recover the money or not you’ll be free to go. That $250,000 you wanted, let’s call it double or quits.”

    Mickey’s lounge was pleasantly relaxing. A log fire was soon blazing and they sat companionably with a snifter of good cognac each in the soft glow of lamplight discussing their strategy.

     “You’ll need to give me the security details for all the accounts you hold so I can empty what’s left into a new one we’ll set up. As for Ginette’s new ones, I’ll have a go at hacking them but you’ll need to supply me with as much information as possible. Dates, names, places, phone numbers, lucky numbers, anything you can think of that she might use to set up an account for herself. And remember she’s set up several under different shells, but the cognitive processes should be recognisable, once I’ve cracked one the rest should be easier to deduce.”

“God its such a unique science.”

“Part psychology, part geek, and for the most part human error. People tend to be lazy when it comes to on-line security, they don’t want to do anything that taxes them too much.” She smirked, “Look at you and how easy it was for your ex to locate all your security details the moment your back was turned.”

“Oh yea, well there were dozens and dozens of them.” Victoria protested, “She had to dig deep into my laptop to find that index let me tell you. I still can’t believe she managed it. I’m very organised when it comes to my own security.”

      Mickey took a small sip of mellow amber and felt the glow run all the way down to her belly. Looking across to Victoria, snuggled up in a massive armchair, her blonde head haloed with soft light she felt the heat continue further south to smoulder between her legs.

  I’d love to dig deep into your laptop. She found herself thinking before she could curb her thoughts. God the cognac must be greasing my wits!

     Victoria was already scribbling out a long list, after several minutes she moved across to the couch beside Mickey and handed it over.

“The right-hand column has all my details the left has everything I think might be pertinent for Ginette.”  She looked deep into Mickey’s eyes, “Are you sure you can do this? It seems rather a long shot, might it not be better to grab what we can while we can.”

“It’s up to you,” Mickey shrugged, “even as we speak your money is haemorrhaging out of your offshore accounts into a series of Maltese ones. Our only advantage is that we know where the depository company is and the identity of the accounts she holds in it.”

She took Victoria’s hand in hers persuasively, “I have a programme that will per mutate the most favourable output from all this information.” She waggled the sheet of paper, “It’s worth a try Victoria. What have you to lose…except millions.”

     A full hour later and the programme was still running. Mickey glowered at the restless woman pacing around the small room or else wriggling on the chair next to hers. Finally she lost patience,

“Look go and make a sandwich or something would ya! You’re annoying the hell outta me with all your squirming and sighing.”

“Well how much longer is it going to be?” Victoria snipped back at her.

“As long as it takes, now go away and stop bugging me. You’re ruining my concentration.”

“Yea, the concentration it takes to look at a blank screen.” Nevertheless she moved off to the kitchen now the thought of a sandwich had been planted in her mind, “Mmm, there’s some left over fishcakes…and maybe some sauerkraut. Will I make you one?”

“God no! I’ll have some cereal later.” Mickey shuddered.

     Despite her greatest efforts after her third cognac and no movement on the geek front Victoria found herself drifting off to sleep on the single bed she perched on in the small office cum guestroom. What seemed like seconds later a warm hand was gently shaking her shoulder.

“Victoria, Victoria...come on, time to wake up.”

“Hmugh” she softly snorted herself awake and looked up into amused indigo eyes.

“Do you know you snore?”

“I do not!” she groggily tried to sit upright, “Is it finished? Let me see…” she looked up to find her face inches from Mickey’s, their eyes locked in the darkened room lit only by the flickering monitor.

“It’s cold in here.” Mickey swallowed hard but didn’t move away, “The other rooms warmer.”

     Victoria felt her ears burning to cinders with the sudden rush of heat she pummelling through her body. No matter what the temperature of the room it seemed irrelevant to her own personal thermometer. She opened her mouth to express this vague thought when she also noticed the pupils of Mickey’s eyes expand in an instant turning almost midnight. Combined with the blushing glow on her cheeks it seemed Mickey was overheating too despite the chill in the little room.

     Eyes locked they moved unconsciously together until their lips touched, then they stilled. Each closed her eyes and sighed as their mouths melted together. Shyly teasing and caressing Victoria’s lower lip Mickey gently suckled the tender morsel into her own mouth, gently tugging with her own firm lips, bathing the sensitive inner flesh with the tip of her tongue. Victoria moaned her own tongue darting out to graze along Mickey’s top lip, tracing it’s curves and texture becoming more and more insistent, demanding entry. With one final tender tug Mickey surrendered and opened to the teasing tongue, carefully it rolled over her own, the soft lips cupping hers. She responded caressing against the rolling insistence heat quickly building up in her belly to alarming proportions, until the ache bordered on painful.

God how she wanted this woman, this small, mean, hard, vulnerable totally entrancing woman. This was so out of the box, so unexpected; what the hell was she going to do?

     What she did do was scoop her petite lover up in her arms without breaking the kiss and move out into the hall heading for her own bedroom.

Victoria instinctively wrapped her arms around the strong shoulders amazed at how warm and protected Mickey’s presence made her feel, regardless of their short dramatic history. In fact she realised part of her had always felt secure and cared for around the taller woman.  It was this inner security that had let her reveal her unspoken desires in bed last night. Victoria finally let down her guard and told herself her own truth, she had enjoyed sex with Mickey; she had felt trust and passion and respect for her deepest fantasies as she expressed them through her bound body. Mickey had not taken; it was she who had decided to give on every level. She was thrilled that tonight they would be together again and she would be free this time to explore this delicious body and return some of the passion that had already been given.

     Together, wrapped in a deep kiss they moved in a haze along the hallway,

“Oh My God, isn’t this beautiful?”

Both heads swung up in surprise to witness the newcomer standing just inside the open front door levelling a very real handgun at both of them.

“Ginette?” spluttered Victoria shocked beyond all belief at the sight of her ex girl-friend silhouetted in the door way, her first thought, Oh my god, she’s come to rescue me, what shit timing! Slowly she slid out of Mickey’s arms onto her feet.

Almost immediately the thought went pop as Mickey responded,

“You took your goddamn time.”  

Part Eight

     Victoria stood frozen with Mickey’s nonsensical words in her ears until a large hand roughly grabbed her by the upper arm and trailed her back to the kitchen.

“You bastard!” she breathed in utter shock as realisation dawned, “You’re in league with her. The two of you are in this together; you two faced…mmph!”

Her angry spate was cut short as a former blindfold was speedily used to gag her before she was unceremoniously cuffed to the stove rail Mickey herself had so recently vacated.

Mickey condescendingly patted her on top of her head pushed her down onto a seat near the table.

“You’re out of this round of negotiations my little Fat Cat.”

      Moving away to switch on the coffeepot she looked coolly over her shoulder at Ginette. “For gods sake put that thing down before to shoot your foot off.”

Alarmed at the image of harming herself Ginette delicately placed the weapon on the counter secretly glad to be rid of it. “I’ve been taking lessons you know.” She exclaimed huffily.

“What the hell are you doing coming here with a gun in the first place?” Mickey frowned.

“When your emails stopped I wondered if something had gone wrong. I see something went a little bit different off plan, Lover-grrl.” She indicated where Victoria sat fit to bust, her face was scarlet with anger and her green eyes flashed like crazed emeralds. Mickey looked over at her nonchalantly and shrugged,

“Well I was bored and I found a box of toys, so what the heck!”

Ginette hooted with laughter, “Toys! On Vanilla Ice here, I’d loved to have seen that!”

     The coffee started Mickey turned to the woman gloating over a seething Victoria; she could see the sparks fly from across the kitchen and was rather glad the little wolverine was chained to the stove. She had a feeling there won’t be many recognisable parts of herself or Ginette left if she were to break free.

“The money?” she asked casually but with a steely undertone.

“It’s in the car. Gimmie a minute.” Smirking Ginette withdrew back into the hallway.

The minute elapsed with Mickey and Victoria staring at each other. Mickey held the green glare unflinchingly, the eyes luminous with rage and something else, deep, deep down in another layer of secreted emotion she could see hurt. When she encountered that her eyes fell away.

     “Here’s your $250,000 as requested.  I nearly broke a nail prising it out of Kevin Phillip’s clammy grasp, but it’s all here and accounted for.” She dumped a gym bag on the table and unzipped the top to expose thousands of banded dollars. “Do you want to count it?”

“Nah.” Mickey shifted off the countertop she’d been leaning against and cast a cursory glance into the bag.

“And my funds? Have you moved them across?” Ginette enquired suddenly wary now the deal was actually going down and monies were being exchanged. As if to emphasise her point she zipped up the bag shutting the money from Mickey’s casual gaze.

Mickey reached in her hip pocket and brought out a printed list, handing it over stated,

“Here are the details of your new Swiss account. Everything from the Felstrom-Gresham accounts has been moved there.” She stated flatly.

Ginette glowed with achievement. Waving the paper in Victoria’s face she crowed,

“See, every frigging thing you thought you could keep from me has gone into my foreign account. This is my alimony and it’s going to start of my new life!”

     Seeing the perplexed look on Victoria’s face she continued triumphantly, “Did you really think I’d settle for your paltry settlement and my old job back? No way, not when you’re handing out $250,000 rewards to geeks!” Here she jabbed her thumb in Mickey’s direction.

     Victoria’s confused eyes flickered from Ginette back to Mickey she knew $250,000 was the amount of the ransom demand, or rather what she now knew to be a service charge to set up a laundered account for her ex. But she had told Mickey that Kevin had been paid twice that amount for the code stolen from her. If all this had been to actually get back what she saw as rightfully hers back why did she not hold out for the rest of the $500,000? Ginette was withholding the other $250,000; why just hand the details over?     Please don’t let her be this gormless!  Victoria found herself sending up a silent prayer to the God of Thieves, for some reason it was important to her to have a modicum of respect for the big lanky idiot!

     “And you know what Vic? Do you know what the best bit is? You can do nothing about it cos I have ransom notes that point to her.” Ginette pointed directly at Mickey who stood by looking slightly bemused. “That’s where your money went if I have to answer to the authorities. So suck that up!”

Victoria’s eyes locked with Mickey’s blue,

 You goddamn fool? She mentally screamed hoping the buffoon could read her telepathically the way some dogs can in a crisis. She’d have had better luck with Lassie, Mickey just stared back blankly. She’s set you up as the fall guy; she gets away Scott free you’ll be forever hounded and all for a measly $250,000! Why the hell didn’t you just come to senior management after Kevin ripped you off?

     “Well excuse me Ladies, I hate to interrupt your moment of resolution but I’ve gotta use the john.” Mickey left the room leaving the gym bag sitting on the table.

Ginette moved to sit down opposite Victoria.

“I’ll take this minute to gloat. I just love the idea I got one over on the exalted Victoria Gresham. I interviewed her you know,” she nodded to the door Mickey had just passed through, “She was a whiz-kid, came up through the ranks of the FinCen. A little bit odd, but aren’t they all. As soon as she came to HR complaining about Kevin Phillips impropriety I had her punted off site quicker than she could blink and it was easy to set all the blame at your big Boardroom door.  A quick squeeze on Kevin’s crooked balls and he coughed up the money he’d acquired on her behalf. I simply dangled a $250,000 carrot in front of her nose along with my own hard luck story of how you done me wrong too.

     I drugged you and all she had to do was scoop you up of the floor, by the way she thinks you have a little drink problem, bless her. And then she helped me clear out our joint accounts so I could be free of you and she could get the money you ‘owed’ her. Simple and effective.”

Do’h dumb ass! Victoria rolled her eyes and looked pointedly at the gym bag and then pointedly at the door; she had to do it several times before Ginette finally frowned.

“What?” she half whined, but by that time it was too late; they could hear sirens approaching from about a mile away. She straightened up immediately, eyes wide with alarm. Lifting up from the table she dashed out to the hall, Victoria could hear her tearing around the house in seconds flat slamming doors before finally rushing back into the room.

     “She’s gone!” She blurted out dismayed, eyes fixed on the bag still sitting on the table, “What the fuck? She ran and didn’t even take the money? Do you think she heard the sirens?” she looked askance at Victoria.

Victoria raised her chin in an upward thrust indicating she had an answer but, surprise, surprise was gagged! Hissing with frustration Ginette scurried behind the blonde head and none too gently undid the knots. Victoria smacked her lips against the dryness in her mouth.

“She never wanted the money you idiot! She wanted the security access to my offshore accounts. She’s been riding you like the short assed pony you are! You handed me over to her on a plate all she had to do was make me believe you were emptying my accounts, which I suppose you were, but only the joint ones.”

     Ginette looked at her dumbly, the answer not penetrating her brain.

Victoria sighed, “It’s over Ginette. She duped you, she duped us both. Your money is not in Switzerland it’s in Malta, I saw it myself, just before I helped her put my money right in there with it!” she gave a very bitter smile at this.

     The sirens were drawing closer and Ginette’s IQ seemed to be dropping with the rise in decibels.

“How did the police find us?” she was panicking now.

“Courtesy of our host, this is the smoke screen for her exit. Here we are, I’m chained to a stove, and there’s a bag of money and a gun with your prints all over them…the exact amount of a ransom demand. I do believe Ginette that you are looking pretty much like my mad ex and kidnapper now. This all buys her all the time she needs to get out of the country. ” she finished flatly.

“You know what really pisses me off?” Ginette spat as she lunged for the gun in her panic, “That you’re such a smartass about fucking everything; even your own fucking kidnapping!”

“And do you know wanna know what pisses me? That you’re so thick yet I’m the blonde!” she yelled at her exes retreating back.

     Smokescreen, smokescreen for a getaway, well two can play that game! Ginette’s mind screamed at her as she ran out of the kitchen, scurrying up the hall she passed the open door to the lounge. Smoke screen! There in the lounge was a happily blazing log fire. She dashed into the room looking around for any thing combustible. Cushions? The rug? She grabbed a throw off the back of the couch and flung it into the fireplace, leaving enough draping out onto the soft furnishings. It smouldered rather than burnt, damn wool! Then she noticed the original paraffin lamps decorating each end of an old pine dresser. Lifting one she shook it, half full. With one deep breath she raised it and hurled it into the fire place shocked at the immediate whoosh upon its shattering. No doubt now that the fire had a proper hold, hopefully the approaching sirens would see the smoke and alert the Fire Department and in the general confusion she could gun her car down the back roads outta here.

     Turning she fled the blazing lounge and headed for the door, hesitating slightly as she heard Victoria’s screams, “What the hell have you done?”

The hesitation was minimal as she ran outside.

     Ginette started the car and skidded off down the back road as planned, kicking herself that she hadn’t the wit to lift the gym bag in her mad dash.

Glancing in the rear view mirror her eyes widened with horror at seeing the entire side of the cabin fiercely burning with part of the roof well underway. The plume of smoke nevermind the licking flames could be seen for miles.

Slamming on the brakes she stopped and sat and stared in the mirror totally aghast.  Victoria was still in there, chained to the stove.

     Totally acting on reflex Ginette flipped open her cell phone and speed dialled.

“I set fire to the cabin. She’s still in there. I didn’t mean it.” Lowering her hand she didn’t listen to the response she didn’t need too to fully understand what she had done.

     It was the smoke that was killing her. She could hear the whole house crackling as the wood snapped and exploded on the other rooms, but the thick acrid smoke billowing down the hallway and into the small kitchen was slowly asphyxiating her. Her burning eyes poured tears and her lungs screamed at every sucked breath, there was nothing but blackness all around her as the lights had gone out really quickly. For all she knew this blackness could have been only smoke, but it didn’t matter, she was so teared up her eyes were useless.

     Glass broke in a window pane nearby, but glass had been shattering with the heat for several minutes now. The blistering heat was getting closer, but it would not kill her, she would not burn to death and for that she was grateful, she would merely drown in smoke.

     “Hey, you can’t go in there!” a voice called from outside, a male voice. “The fire crews on its way. Hey you! Wait!”

Gun shots rang out deep in the woods. More cries from men’s voices and then someone stood beside her. A strong body brushed against her, wheezing and gasping like herself in the airless acrid room. She heard a clank and a screech of metallic creaking, and suddenly her hands were free, they had movement and she could pull away from the stove. The loud clank that followed made it clear to her that someone had used a crowbar to lever off the stove rail and free her cuffs if not her hands.

     A prolonged wrenching wail, almost human in its sadness filled her ears then a resounding crash and an intense wave of heat. She knew immediately part of the structure had collapsed and soon, very soon the rest of the log cabin would follow.

      Strong hands grabbed her chained ones. She recognised them as Mickey’s; Mickey had come back for her! Into this death trap! They clung together for an instant both sucking in the cleaner air that rode through on the building being torn open. Now their enemy was heat not smoke, Victoria could feel it reddening her skin.

      Still blinded with the smoke and darkness she lurched forward dragging Mickey with her…5 paces to the door where the tiles turned to carpet, the heat here was worse but not unbearable…6 paces up the hall to the garage door. Please let the garage still be sound and not a burning wreck! Open the door cautiously, no rush of heat, cooler, less smoke but still darkness…8 paces across the floor to the window where the sun had poured in on her first day.

        Mickey following blind realised where they were now, hoisting herself up she rammed an elbow through the glass punching the rest out with a bloodied fist. She reached down and vertically dragged the smaller woman up and through the sharp shards until she could drop her unceremoniously onto the scorched grass below before falling practically on top of her.

    Both lay there in a dazed heap as shouts and running feet approached pulling them clear of danger. An ambulance had finally appeared during the past few minutes; Victoria was immediately placed on a gurney and surrounded by paramedics. Mickey staggered to her feet pushing away helping hands.

     “Careful.” A gentle hand steadied her shoulder, “Come with me we’ll get you seen too. Those hands need some attention.” The young paramedic attempted to soothe the tall wild eyed woman. A further volley of shots rang out in the woods, all official parties instinctively ducked except her, she stood upright and still while all around her dived for cover.

     A mere second passed before it became apparent the shots were too far away to endanger those present. Turning back the young paramedic found himself standing alone, his tall patient had simply disappeared.

Part 9 

     “And so Ms Gresham,” Detective Spacek continued from the foot of her hospital bed in the bored drone he had begun to adopt when he realised days ago this information was never going to be elaborated upon, “after that we apprehended Ginette Felstrom running around in the woods. She claimed to be disorientated and suffering from amnesia. Forensics show she had discharged a firearm within the past 48 hours but the weapon has so far not been located. It probably never will be if she just dropped it in the woods during her…wanderings. But we believe it was her shots that caused the general confusion among the rescue services allowing your rescuer access to the burning cabin, and again a means to escape afterwards.”

     The jaded fifty eight year old watched Victoria Gresham carefully, she never batted an eyelid. Cool as an Eskimo’s cucumber.

“Ms Felstrom is a member of a private Gun Club it would not be surprising if she had residue from a fire-arm on her person, Detective.”

“And your cuffs?”

“A sex game.”

He nodded, his withered cheeks not even carrying a blush looking pointedly at the dark bruises and cuts still marking her slender wrists. There was nothing here for him, this little Lady had all the Aces and all the answers and only played when the odds were in her favour. All he wanted now was to wrap up his report and get down to Joes for a long cool beer. He’d spent the past week on this and it was going nowhere. As long as there was no drugs, no deaths and no insurance scam he really didn’t give horses dick what weird city lesbians did when they came up to the hills to play their damn silly sex games! Gave him plenty to tell the boys at Joes though.

“The tall girl that got you out?”

“Don’t know, didn’t see her. Thought she was a fire fighter.”

He placed his hat back on his head.

“Well I guess I’m done here, Ms Gresham. I’ll file my report and your lawyer can ask for a copy if you feel the need.”

“Detective Spacek, I have a question for you? Abbott McKenzie, what do you know of the family?”

He hesitated, a little surprised, but only a little, truth was nothing about this little cold fish could really astound him at all.

“Abbott McKenzie died about six years ago. He had no family. His shack was willed to the Forestry Commission, they rented it out as a holiday home to city people such as yourself Ms Gresham.”

She nodded her eyes totally inscrutable. “I see, thank you Detective Spacek.”

Giving a polite nod he turned and left the room.

     The very next day Victoria Gresham sat at a table beside her pool nursing a rum and coke. A cell phone beeped and she lifted it to her ear,

“Speaking. And you’re certain? It matches the employee number? Okay, that must be it then. Thank you.” she snapped it shut and redialled, “We got a trace through FinCen; an old insurance and employee number match. We’re looking for a Michaela Rapowski,” her voice was hard, “...aka Mickey.” But her distant gaze softened at the irony.

     Quietly she sat and watched the breeze ripple the surface of the pool. She had instructed her lackeys to retrieve passport, immigration, educational, family, insurance, any information they could find on the elusive Mickey Rapowski, though she doubted they’d find much.

     Sipping her drink she allowed herself a small appreciative smile. The double cross was perfect, crystalline in its perfection now that she could see right through it. For the hundredth time she played the moves over in her mind.

     Ginette anxious that her break up would leave her poorer than she ever intended to be had devised a plan to allow Mickey to ‘kidnap’ Victoria and ransom her for her ‘owed’ $250,000. Ginette would pay it under the guise of a ransom but in return Mickey needed to move around the monies in their joint accounts and any other deposit accounts she could plunder.

     But all she had really done was deliver into Mickey’s hands the only thing she wanted…Victoria Gresham and her hidden millions in tax evasion! Coming out of FinCen Mickey knew exactly who she wanted to target. All she had to do was ease Victoria into a false sense of security, make her believe she wasn’t even the intended kidnap victim! Then she could plant a seed that something was going wrong with the ransom payment and let Victoria find out she was being double crossed by Ginette.

     Even when it all went pear shaped and Victoria had over-powered her Mickey had stayed clam and let the game run on like a roulette wheel, leaving the ball to drop where it may. It landed well for her. Victoria had picked up on the finances moving around and panicked it was all going to haemorrhage away not just the joint accounts. Like a fool she had handed over her details and then slept as her funds were casually transferred over hours and borders channelled through her own suspect off-shore companies.

     When it was finally done Mickey had awakened her, and kissed her, and no doubt would have slept with her before no doubt simply fading away the next day. Ginette’s arrival had at least aborted that plan.

     What a strange night it had been, Mickey had crashed through a burning building to save her life, and Ginette’s bumbling intervention had probably saved her heart. Or had it? Could she ever put a price on what Mickey had really stolen?

     Mickey looked across to the white stretch of sand and beyond to the ocean front condominium resort of Cayman Brac she was now the proud owner of.  The azure sea bobbed gently caressing the hull of her gleaming 38 foot sloop. Tanned feet stood on oiled teak as she gazed back down into the aquamarine depths. Somewhere down there, if the light was just right and the tide was turning she swore she could see the emerald that made her pulse flutter and her heart leap. She waited rolling gently on idle waves until it finally came, the soft caressing green; like her eyes.

     Transfixed she stood and watched as bittersweet memory washed through her like the warm waters below and loneliness lapped her heart.

Taking a deep breath Mickey pushed of the wooden deck gracefully dived in.

The End

© G McKnight.

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