The man snorted. "You'll have to wait for a bit longer. I'll ring for someone to come and take you." Footsteps receding. Rubbing the mask a little more, lifting it fractionally, she could peer down over her cheeks. She struggled to look round and get her bearings, moving very slowly so that the guard wouldn't suspect she could see.
She spotted him by the door, cradling a phone. Peering left and right, straining to take in as much detail as she could, she discovered they were in a small panelled room.
In one wall, adjacent to the door, was a window that extended from the ceiling to a foot or two above floor level, flanked by rich drapes. The room was empty except for a single chair by the door, where presumably the guard had been sitting whilst she had been lying on the floor. She twisted slowly round, arching her head around. Behind her was an ornate fire place with a painting above it. There was nowhere to hide even if she could get her hands free.
The guard mumbled something into the receiver and a second or two later Kai appeared, neatly dressed in a tailored suit. She glanced at Emily.
"Help me get her on her feet," she said to the man. "I'll ask Leonora if she can go back to her cell. The Haroldson's don't want her delivered until tonight. No point in her lying about down here -"
Emily flinched. Delivered like a gift wrapped package, she thought miserably. Suddenly more than anything else she wanted to get away, contract or no contract. As she was helped to her feet she stumbled and moaned theatrically.
"What's the matter?" asked Kai.
"My arms," Emily said unhappily. "I can't feel my arms. I've got cramp."
With a little noise of frustration, Kai turned her round and undid the wrist cuffs. What followed next seemed to take place in a split second. The instant her hands were free, Emily pushed up her blindfold and stooped to unsnap the chain that linked her ankles. Before Kai or the guard had time to react she made a lunge for the door, jerked it open, and dashed headlong into the main hall that lay beyond.
There were very few people around and they were all stunned by the sight of Emily, still dressed in the ragged transparent cotton shift, running across the elegant hallway. Ahead of her the main door was flanked by two guards. Emily saw with horror that one of them was the man who had visited her the previous night. He looked up, recognised her, and immediately gave chase. Emily gasped, turning sharply to avoid his outstretched arms and ran back into the corridors that led away from the entrance hall.
In the far distance she could see light – an open door. She swerved to avoid a couple standing in the shadows, dropped her head, and ran towards it. Close on her heels the guard followed, barking information into the radio on his lapel. The breath roared in her chest, pulse crackling in her ears as she ran headlong towards the exit. It seemed to get further and further away. She let out a thin high pitched wail and put on a spurt, sensing the man behind was rapidly gaining ground.
Finally she was there and hurtled outside into the cold morning air. The change in temperature took her breath away. She was at the top of a short flight of stairs that led down into a service area. Glancing up she could see a Deuvar van, door open, parked near a cellar door. She took the steps two at a time and made her way across the Tarmac, praying that the keys would be in the ignition.
"Stop!" commanded a female voice.
In spite of herself, Emily slowed down and glanced over her shoulder. Leonora was standing at the top of the steps, her face pale and furious. Turning threw Emily off balance and she stumbled, tried to regain her footing, and fell straight into the arms of the Deuvar security man whose van she had intended to steal.
"Let me go," she screamed. "Let me go!" Fighting and clawing to get free, she turned and twisted in his arms. His grip closed tighter grabbing her wrists, while behind her she heard Leonora and the guard heading towards them.
"Well done," said Leonora breathlessly as the man relinquished his grip and Emily fell into the first guard's arms. She spun round, flailing wildly, desperately trying to escape. The night guard, eyes glinting, grabbed her hands, snapping a short chain into the links on the wrist cuffs. Another man arrived hot on the heels of Leonora and the guard and made a lunge for her legs.
Emily bit and kicked, wriggling, the shift dress tearing her shoulders as they tried to hold her tight. Finally one of the guards caught her round the throat with his forearm. She staggered back and felt a second guard grab her legs. An instant later he caught hold of her ankles and snapped a rigid pole between them, holding her legs open.
Emily was still struggling when Leonora stepped closer, rubbing her cheek where Emily had caught her as she had been fighting to escape.
Leonora smiled thinly and slapped Emily hard across the face. "Total obedience," she hissed, as Emily's head snapped back.
Emily was breathless, her face stinging and flushed, her heart still ricocheting against her ribs. She could taste blood.
Leonora watched her coldly. "I ought to let them fuck you here," she said, nodding towards the guards. "You signed a contract or have you forgotten. You're ours -"
Emily shivered. "I don't care about your precious contract!"
Leonora laughed dryly. "You'd better – you're Johnson's revenge for Magenta! You're paying for Peter Howard being a…"
"Hush, hush," interrupted a cultured male voice from across the courtyard.
Emily glanced up. It was the man she had seen at Johnson and Fielding's office the day she had signed the contract. He smiled pleasantly, taking in her dishevelled appearance with obvious delight.
"Well, well, Miss Lawrence, we meet again. I don't think I introduced myself the last time we met. My name is Max Fielding."
Leonora snorted. "This is hardly the moment for formal introductions, Max."
The man laughed. "On the contrary, Leonora, as I'm to watch Miss Lawrence this evening, I thought it was the perfect opportunity." He glanced sharply at Leonora. "And also, my dear, I would prefer it if we kept the other matter to ourselves."
Emily looked at Leonora in time to see the Eurasian women drop her gaze and redden. Magenta, Emily thought, holding onto the name, and Peter Howard – something I'm not supposed to know about. Leonora's expression confirmed her suspicions.
The guard snapped a leash into her collar, and between them they picked her up, carrying her back towards the door of Deuvar.
"Put her in the detention cell," Leonora said coldly. "And don't let her out until it's time for her to go across to the Haroldson's. Do what you like with her but don't fuck her. The Haroldson's have paid a lot for the privilege of being first."
The guard nodded. They carried her away in silence, her heart still racing, her eyes downcast. Upstairs they manhandled her past cell twenty seven towards a barred door.
Emily stiffened; inside she could see manacles hanging from a beam in the ceiling and below on the floor, ankle restraints. She began to struggle in earnest as the guards dragged her inside.
The man who had abused her the previous evening seized her feet and snapped her ankles into position. When he was done they both took her wrists and lifted them above her head.
Spread-eagled she was barely able to move; totally helpless. The guard she knew caught hold of her chin and kissed her roughly, tongue forcing between her lips.
"You should really learn to co-operate," he whispered. "Things will go so much better if you do as you're told."
Emily whimpered as he let his hands move down over her body, tugging at the shift – now reduced to barely more than a rag – that partly covered her body.
He grinned at her discomfort. "We can do anything we like now. Leonora won't say a word, she'll be only too happy to let us loose on you. Trying to escape is going to get a lot of people into trouble. Do you know what Leonora will do to Kai? She trusted Kai."
Emily bit her lip, imagining the Oriental girl's face. The guard stepped closer. She could feel the meaty bulk of his swollen cock pressing against her belly. He rubbed himself against her, rubbing his hardened phallus lower and lower towards the delicate silver ring. His gaze was steely.