"How are you feeling, Vicky? Very frightened and confused, I suppose. Don't worry though, you'll soon feel fine. It was a very mild form of gas we used on you."

"Gas?"

"Knockout gas. I won't bother you with the medical details. We left a can of it in your car with a proximity fuse to open the valve. You were unconscious before you had a chance to even turn the ignition key. Then I had you driven here."

"You had me driven -- where are my clothes? Why am I tied up? Let me go!"

"Don't start making demands, Vicky, there's a good girl. None of them will change anything. Incidentally, if your labia lips are feeling sore, the reason is because I took advantage of your situation to have them pierced and discipline rings fitted down there. So remember where they are, lie quietly and I'll tell you everything you need to know."

"Let me go, you bitch, let me go!"

"There's always this tedious part of the business, you know that?

"Vicky, stop moving around and take a good look at what I'm holding. It's a whip and if you don't settle down I suppose I'll have to use it on you. In fact, I'd enjoy whipping your tits for a while -- they've been trussed up the way they have been to make them good targets, and to make sure they'll hurt you as much as possible when I go to work on them. So shall I start now?"

"No, please don't hurt me. I'll do what you want!"

"Vicky, you've no idea how much I hear people saying that to me. So, what I want is for you to spread your legs out as widely apart as they were before and let me see everything you've got to offer."

"Oh God . . ."

"Well done, Vicky, you're getting the hang of it already. And I think my clients are going to enjoy seeing what I'm seeing."

"Who are you, what do you want with me? How do you know my name?"

"You can call me Mrs Robinson, Vicky. I'm a business lady and I know all about you, Ms Victoria Spinetti -- oh, forgive me, you're not using your married name anymore, are you? I mean Ms Victoria Border, Apartment 48, City Views Block, North Sioux Road. I know you're a real estate conveyance agent, I know the name of the company you work for, I know your boss's first name is Bob and that he's been trying to get into your pants for years. I know that you have two children who are away on a visit this weekend to your ex-husband, Marco, and I know your favorite color is green. I also know that you have a tiny scar on your left forearm that you got when you fell on a piece of broken glass in a park when you were seven years old."

"But how . . ?"

"How do I know so much? Well, we need to have a little heart to heart talk about that. But what I'm going to do first is to tie two of the thongs of this whip to those useful little rings down there . . . like this."

"It's a dream, a nightmare. It has to be."

"No, no dream, Vicky, I can assure you of that. And just to make sure you stay in touch with reality, we'll tuck this whip handle up between your tits where you can see it at all times. That's a reminder that if I start to get annoyed with you for any reason I'll give these two thongs a tug which will make you scream like you've never screamed before. Have you got your head around that concept?"

"Yes . . . I understand."

"From now on, Vicky, I think I'd prefer it if you called me Mistress."

"Yes . . . Mistress."

"There you are, that wasn't hard, was it? And for being such a good girl, I'll make a useful introduction to you. Mr Vibrator, meet Vicky: Vicky meet Mr Vibrator. After all, it's been a while since Marco gave you a good screwing isn't it? As a matter of interest have you been fucked by anybody else since you broke up? And, before you answer, remember those rings and remember how much I know about you already."

"Jesus! No, I haven't been with anybody else, Mistress."

"Oh, you poor deprived girl. Not even a one night stand with Bob the boss?"

"No -- nobody."

"Well, don't you worry your sweet head about it, Vicky. I'm about to solve your sex shortage problem in a major way."

"What! -- I mean, what, Mistress!"

END OF PART ONE

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