Wednesday 21 September 2011

Amy and Antony - Part 14

Steve Walker awoke with a start and tried to get his bearings.

The last time he had been aware of anything, he had been in a prostitute's bedroom being massaged by the tiniest, cutest girl he had ever met. But the girl had tricked him and put him to sleep with an injection.

That girl had better be a long way away from me thought Steve, cos if I ever catch up with her...

Steve forced his mind back to his present situation. He was lying flat on his back on some kind of metallic surface. His eyes could only take in a bland white painted ceiling and ceramic tiling that comprised part of the walls of the room he was in.

Steve realised that he had clearly been moved from the bedroom and into another room, perhaps a completely different building. The room had a sterile, clinical feel and smell about it. During a long career as a police officer, Steve had spent enough time in laboratories, mortuaries and hospitals to be able to guess that he was in some kind of lab.

But what was it for and why had he been brought here?

Steve tried to sit up. To his shock and horror, he found he could not move as much as his little toe! Steve was inwardly panicking. Was this paralysis a permanent thing? Even if it wasn't, for the moment he was helpless.

There was a swooshing sound as the entrance to this chamber admitted some people. He could hear their footsteps getting closer and closer until he could see four people. Four female people. Three of them, he recognised instantly, but the fourth was a stranger.

He recognised two of the older women as Dr Craig, a Female Dawn Activist he had arrested, the female barrister who had grilled him in court but he could not recall her name and, to his disbelief, the girl prostitute who had been responsible for putting him in this situation.

His mind was momentarily filled with rage. Has he been able to move, he would have pounded the scheming minx into the middle of next week! But, all he could do was lie there helplessly and seethe impotently.

The fourth woman, who was older than all those present and had silver hair, wore a lab coat and carried a clip board. She was checking the monitors situated above Steve's head and nodding in satisfaction.

"A perfect specimen" she said, in a pronounced German accent "for our first test of the prototype".

"How much longer will the drug work for?" asked Dr Craig.

The German woman considered this for a moment "long enough, Dr Craig".

Dr Craig turned to the barrister "Will anyone miss our specimen?"

The younger woman shook her head "No one could care less about him. His expulsion from the police force is imminent. I checked with our source. Your arrest and subsequent court case caused the service considerable damage, both financially and in terms of their reputation, so they are washing their hands of him. His soon to be ex-wife has already found a new partner. He has no other family and as far as anyone knows, he is emigrating to Thailand".

Dr Craig's face suddenly invaded Steve's vision. Her expression was cold and impassive. "So, he is quite alone and helpless. Perfect!". Dr Craig allowed a tiny smile to crease her features and she spoke to Steve for the first time.

"You foolish man. Like all men, you allowed your primitive instincts to rule you! Not that it would have done you any good with that sweet little east european girl as "she" is not as she seems, are you Antony?"

The "girl" appeared in Steve's vision, sans wig, and "she" was clearly a he. The boy gave him a cheeky wink. Steve felt humiliated to be tricked and outwitted by a weedy boy.

"Thank you Antony, you can go now!" Dr Craig said, with authority. The boy, still clad in his mini-skirt and the rest of his working girl outfit, except for the wig that he held in his hand, bobbed a little curtsey and disappeared.

The three real women observed his exit with smiles.

"He is a rather sweet boy" said Dr Craig "If only ALL boys could be just like him! Just think how easy our task would be then....but, back to business! How long until the prototype is operational, Professor-Doctor Hartmann?"

The German woman looked mildly offended by the question "It is ready now, Doctor. We just need to run a few more routine tests".

"Then please proceed. Quickly. The Matriarch will be here soon. The prototype must be ready for her to see by then!"

Hartmann scurried off, shouting commands in German to a gaggle of female technicians, who rushed to obey her.

Amidst all this, Steve lay there, feeling helpless, humiliated, and alone.

Saturday 17 September 2011

Amy and Antony - Part Thirteen

Steve Walker could hardly believe his luck! Here he was, being led by the hand by the cutest boyish looking young girl he had ever met.

The mini-skirted girl confidently led him down some dark and obscure alleyways. They passed other couples snogging and fondling each other along the way.

Steve was getting randy as he saw the other couples making out. He stopped and tried to pin the small girl leading him against the nearest wall so he could kiss her, but the girl deftly wriggled away and shook her head. She took Steve's hand again - and control of the situation - and gently pulled him along behind her.

Steve was disappointed, but only for a few moments. His attention was soon absorbed by the slender legs of the girl, her cute behind wiggling away in that tiny mini-skirt (he could have watched that for hours!) and by the softness of her hand. Steve could barely wait to sample the delights offered by the girl's nubile body.

The girl stopped outside a doorway. The door was old, solid and wooden and the black paint was peeling from it. The girl extracted a key from her bra and used it to open the door, and then entered, gesturing for Steve to follow her.

Steve eagerly followed the girl through a dim hallway and up a flight of stairs until they reached what was obviously the girl's room. Steve had frequented bordellos for years and he found it odd that there was no pimp, or madam, hovering about to demand payment, or indeed any other working girls. He shrugged. What did it matter? If this was a ruse to rob him then that girl had chosen the wrong victim. He could break the diminutive female in two with just one of his massive hands.

The girl's room was unremarkable. Very simple furnishings, in keeping with what one would expect of a whore house. The girl gestured towards a small table upon which sat a tray with some glasses and bottles of wine. Some "clients" bottled it at the last minute and needed a drink in order to perform whilst others wanted to just sit and talk with the girl. Steve, eager to get down to business, shook his head.

The girl vanished behind a screen and Steve could see her silhouette behind it. She was beginning to remove her outer clothes and Steve gawped at her, mesmerised. The girl re-appeared, clad only in a red bra and matching panties. Her body was perfect. Soft and hairless.

The girl spoke, her accent betraying her east european origins "Please to sit on ze bed" she beseeched him. Steve obeyed. A few moments later he sensed the girl lightly scramble onto the bed and coming up behind him. Steve trembled in anticipation as he felt the girl's tiny hands in his shoulders and her sweet breath on his right ear. Then his vision was obscured as the girl tied something around his eyes. One of her stockings. Steve could dimly see the outlines of some of the room's furnishings through the delicate nylon barrier now covering his eyes.

For the next few minutes the girl massaged him. Steve was anxious to bed her, but tolerated the massaging as a prelude to the main act. Then, inexplicably, Steve felt a sharp pain in his neck. A needle in his jugular vein! But even as he registered this, everything went black......

Friday 9 September 2011

Amy and Antony - Part Twelve

Stephen Walker sat alone in his tiny, depressing bedsit, cursing the fates for the disastrous turns his life had taken in the last year or so.

First, his actions against a demonstration by those Female Dawn harridans, all perfectly reasonable from his point of view, had resulted in his being hauled up before a police disciplinary board. He had been suspended from duty pending the verdict, which was due any day now.

His inspector (who had been wholly complicit in the whole affair but who now put all the blame onto his overzealous and heavy handed Sergeant) told him privately that he was likely to lose his rank at the very least and could even be expelled from the police force.

Then Steve's wife of thirty years set divorce proceedings in motion, citing his adultery. Steve supposed she had a point there. He had had dalliances with a number of females over the years, but that's what men did, wasn't it? It's in man's nature to copulate with as many women as possible. Men had needs that no woman could comprehend. Women! They just didn't understand men at all!

In the meantime, Steve had had to move out of the marital home and take up residence in this dingy dump.

Still, Steve allowed himself a crafty smile. He might have lost his job and his home, but he still had his hoard of cash, the proceeds of "voluntary contributions" from villians and crooks who had given the cash to him in exchange for him turning a blind eye to their nefarious activities. Steve had been accumulating this money over his whole career, which spanned almost thirty years.

Nobody else knew about this money. Not his wife, nor the police, and it was a tidy sum. Steve decided that once his divorce came through he would go abroad and start over. He had heard good things about Thailand. Over there, he'd be the equivalent of a millionnaire. A mansion and servants could be had for loose change and he'd be waited on hand and foot by young, pretty and submissive Thai girls, who would have to call him master and who would do anything he wanted.
The thought of scantily clad, nubile girls was getting him in the mood to have some fun. It'd be better than spending his last hours on these shores in this dismal hovel, looking at cracked paint and dusty furniture, or watching the rubbish that was evening TV.

Grabbing his coat, Steve ventured outside. The one good thing about his current abode was that it was located a stone's throw away from the town's red light district. You could literally fall over skirt every few paces.

Within a few minutes, Steve was in the main thoroughfare, its principal trade defined by the be-skirted and high heeled silhouettes of women.

Steve took a moment to sneer at them. All women were whores, in his opinion, even the ones who didn't stand on street corners, selling themselves. The female of the species was a parasite, who fed off men's energy and, of course, money. Women's Lib and all that tosh? It was a man's world and always would be!

Getting down to business, Steve strode briskly up the street. He sized up and mentally dismissed most of the women he saw. They were either too old and reminded him of his aging, saggy soon to be ex-wife, or too tarted up or too tall. Or too something.

Finally, his eyes almost popped out when he saw a young girl in a tiny denim mini-skirt and a pink top. She had a boyish figure, slender legs and a sweet, delicate face that was deviod of make up except for a little lippy on her pouty lips. She looked a little boyish, but Steve liked boyish looking girls. He went up to the girl and whispered in her ear.

The girl nodded, took one of Steve's hands in one of her tiny, varnished ones, and led him off.
Steve looked appreciatively at the small, slender girl. She had a great little body, but something about her personality suggested submissiveness, a trait Steve loved in his sexual partners. He could do whatever he wanted with this girl. Steve always had to be on top, in life and in bed!

Steve was getting very excited! This would his last night in this dump of a town, the last in this dump of a country, and it was going to be a night to remember..........