A RIDDLE WRAPPED IN A MYSTERY INSIDE AN ENIGMA
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jaegerhunde01
- Posts: 426
- Joined: Fri Dec 08, 2023 3:22 pm
Re: A RIDDLE WRAPPED IN A MYSTERY INSIDE AN ENIGMA
Working on it.....Thanks again
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esercito sconfitto
- Posts: 8051
- Joined: Tue Jan 12, 2016 12:06 pm
Re: A RIDDLE WRAPPED IN A MYSTERY INSIDE AN ENIGMA
outstanding installment
I have to confess that to me, the most intriguing part is about the SIS headquarters... while reading, one is pulled back to the atmosphere of Le Carré, Fredrich Forsyte , Ken Follet or Len Deighton, to the world of the 70s or the first part of the 80s.
What can I say, it's something intense
I have to confess that to me, the most intriguing part is about the SIS headquarters... while reading, one is pulled back to the atmosphere of Le Carré, Fredrich Forsyte , Ken Follet or Len Deighton, to the world of the 70s or the first part of the 80s.
What can I say, it's something intense
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jaegerhunde01
- Posts: 426
- Joined: Fri Dec 08, 2023 3:22 pm
Re: A RIDDLE WRAPPED IN A MYSTERY INSIDE AN ENIGMA
3 WEEKS LATER – HMP BECKSHILL
Zoya sat in the car……carrying out surveillance …….she looked nonchalant, but her trained eye caught everything…….her eyes constantly checking the rear and side mirrors of the car……
Right now she was smoking a cigarette…..she did not smoke much, but now and again she indulged in the habit…..especially when she was on observation……or in this case stalking someone of interest
The car was a Ford Escort……a non descript coupe, very ordinary……matt light blue….old, a late 70s model…....a cheap car that would blend in……..and go unnoticed……no power steering either, and the clutch was worn….nothing she could handle though
Beckshill was a regular prison……except for one unique feature ……the facility was for women only
It was nothing like Benton…..which was a modern and state of the art detention centre……Benton had been designed to hold a special kind of detainee……no petty criminals behind those walls….only enemies of the state…..
Beckshill held those of a normal calibre…….generally the flotsam and unlucky souls that society universally produced…….
The prison was an old Victorian affair……..added over the last few decades were some cheap and temporary portable buildings…….weakly built…… erected outside the once mighty stone walls, just surrounded by chain link fence and barb wired….it was sprawling mess……an inefficient complex to run and keep secure……..
For those in charge….or manage…….it was a nightmare to run safely…..Zoya could already see that too many people were coming in and out……too many to keep track of…...she had noted with a sinister satisfaction plenty of women arriving on their lonesome…….it was the morning, the start of a working day…….or people just wishing to get obligatory visits out of the way…….
For Zoya it was perfect….ideal for her to get in and get out unnoticed…….without drawing any undue attention……
And to aid her she had already chosen a naturally unwilling and unwary candidate…..……..
But Zoya took nothing for granted…….there was no such thing as an easy job…….if overlooked, it was the minute and insignificant detail missed that could trip you up and ruin all……
Therefore she planned…….and planned again…..
But time was against her……..she had to make contact with Zita
The woman’s prison had one main entrance…….an old Victorian styled gate, a lot of heavy iron and rivets, when built it had been intended for use by heavy traffic……a small access door built within that was now rarely utilized……next to the gate was a compound primary access control area……one of the modern add on construction projects…..this is where staff and visitors were processed…….the area was festooned with cameras…….they looked cheap, not top of the line, probably black and white, a little fuzzy with the image…….one or two guards patrolled near the old style blue iron gate……looking generally cold and bored……
That was a mistake……the confused and packed front complex layout adding to the workload of the no doubt underpaid and mediocre security staff…….
But like most UK prisons…Beckshill suffered from overcrowding……..Zoya noted that there was a queue of visitors forming already……mixing in with staff………
Zoya watched from inside the Ford Escort…….the windscreen slightly misted over, it was a chilly morning…......which was parked within the main visitors and staff car park….…..once again……visitors’ and staff all intermingled…….it was easy from here to watch who came and who left…….she found the experience very rewarding…….
It was another gray and dour English day…….all it ever seemed to do in this country is rain……and be cold and miserable……hence this was probably why the population always never smiled…….looked depressed all the time……maybe that is why the drank so much…..
She had watched various women arrive by car……probably secretaries or general administrative staff…….the janitorial and kitchen staff arrived at a smaller entrance….to the rear……..
This entrance was manned by far more security staff…….it appeared that they trusted their menial staff less…..
Contraband smuggling no doubt….or cases of it
The arriving women were generally wrapped up warm……..thick coats and scarf’s hiding the true shape of their figures……depending on age they generally wore knee boots or sturdy heeled shoes….stockinged legs were aplenty…….one or two wearing hats over their lovely heads……
Zoya ignored females that were deemed too old…….or had turned to fat………
Some of the younger ones….…just by seeing their fleshy faces she could discern that they were overweight……..and were therefore never suited for her special needs…….
But women of a general build, average weight and height, not to small and waif like either….that who was Zoya was after……..
She observed the average and unsuspecting women going about their normal daily business….just earning a wage in a rather depressing setting…….going to work like lambs……unaware that a she wolf was among them…… watching them all intently…..
As Zoya was watching the world go by …….she briefly took extra interest in one female who was unsuspectingly walking carefree towards the access area…..the girl was rummaging in her handbag……probably looking for some form of ID…….
She was a young woman in her early twenties….. with nice, shapely legs in black nylon hosiery ……black sexy knee high boots with a heel…..the boots tight on her legs….……a short burgundy skirt, she had a nicely shaped backside under that skirt…….Zoya could tell her arse was tight, well shaped and rounded…..……Zoya had the urge to squeeze her cheeks…..
Zoya surmised that the girl wore tights underneath, the skirt being too short for stockings…..…...her thin waist belted in a gray trench coat like jacket, even though the coat looked insulated………the coat was short, not full length……..her neck hidden by what liked like a wine red coloured cashmere scarf……her hair jet black and long, held in a ponytail with a large plastic clip……..a black shoulder bag hanging at her side……..she strutted with the confidence that a pretty young girl should do………the girl looked about her size……Zoya was tempted…….
A clerk maybe……sitting at her desk all day…….legs in black nylon crossed over…….breasts protruding from underneath some type of tight top…….a pen in her mouth as she daydreamed over something other than her boring work……
Zeya’s nipples became a little pert……
But alas…..it was not to be, even though Zoya liked her choices in clothing…..she was looking for someone else……Zoya already had someone else in mind……
The prison was on a bus route……..she watched a red single decked bus pull up at the sheltered stop…..where it proceeded to disgorge its despondent looking passengers…….a motley and forlorn bunch…….not as well groomed or attired as the staff…..lots of jeans and cheap anoraks…..clutching bags of all sorts……no doubt gifts for inmates that required a full search prior to visiting hours…..
Zoya, in her own current state of dress, had assumed the casual and young look…….
All her attire was branded…….quite expensive and of a good quality……..
After three weeks…..and as expected…… her fine black hair had grown somewhat……gone was the too short masculine military style crop…...Zoya now sported a shoulder length bob, rather feminine that extenuated her thin face……she wore little makeup….she did not need to…..she looked fresh and young
She now wore the clothes that had once belonged to Charlotte Carrington…….a nineteen year old student that she had never met…….she had seen her picture though…..the complete opposite from Zoya…..young, doe eyed, auburn hair and rather innocent looking……
Zoya was wearing a tight white T shirt with an open round neck…..……the shirt stretched over her ample breasts…….underneath…..those breasts were supported by one of Charlotte’s soft white full cupped cotton bras…..very comfortable indeed…….no underwire….her breasts were rather free and easy today…..
A short leather biker’s jacket covered most of the T shirt……..
On her wrist she wore a Police issue watch……..
Zoya wore light, tight jeans……Levi’s…...another Charlotte item…….underneath those a pair of hip high plain cotton briefs…….again a comfortable choice……
White trainers and socks adorned her feet
Charlotte’s clothes had fit her well……just like her mother’s did
Zoya wanted to come across as a student…….therefore she dressed like one……on the passenger car seat next to a woman’s shoulder bag, lay a university scarf……no one took students too seriously…….they always blended in…….
She had been observing the prison for two days……Zita was in there…….behind those walls
She knew they were looking for her…..they too were in the shadows….watching and waiting
She had seen nothing on the TV…..she had read nothing in the press……it was like her escape had never happened…..like she did not exist……
But she did exist…….she had affected the lives of others………they were covering up her tracks……..imposing a news blackout
There was a dead police officer……the deaths in the Prison Transport…….Slade and McBride…..and of course the Carrington’s……they would not remain silent forever……there were always leaks….especially in these democracies….
They were playing cat and mouse…….
Regardless of the varied selection of young ladies doing their daily thing and some being very suitable for her task in hand……Zoya was waiting for someone in particular……someone she already knew quite a great deal about…….
The other nameless people going about their business that day were irrelevant……
Zoya finally smiled is satisfaction as she saw what she wanted and had expected to see around this time…..she checked her stolen Police watch……she was on time and very punctual, as per usual……she was a creature of habit this one……she lived by the clock……
Zoya sat in the car……carrying out surveillance …….she looked nonchalant, but her trained eye caught everything…….her eyes constantly checking the rear and side mirrors of the car……
Right now she was smoking a cigarette…..she did not smoke much, but now and again she indulged in the habit…..especially when she was on observation……or in this case stalking someone of interest
The car was a Ford Escort……a non descript coupe, very ordinary……matt light blue….old, a late 70s model…....a cheap car that would blend in……..and go unnoticed……no power steering either, and the clutch was worn….nothing she could handle though
Beckshill was a regular prison……except for one unique feature ……the facility was for women only
It was nothing like Benton…..which was a modern and state of the art detention centre……Benton had been designed to hold a special kind of detainee……no petty criminals behind those walls….only enemies of the state…..
Beckshill held those of a normal calibre…….generally the flotsam and unlucky souls that society universally produced…….
The prison was an old Victorian affair……..added over the last few decades were some cheap and temporary portable buildings…….weakly built…… erected outside the once mighty stone walls, just surrounded by chain link fence and barb wired….it was sprawling mess……an inefficient complex to run and keep secure……..
For those in charge….or manage…….it was a nightmare to run safely…..Zoya could already see that too many people were coming in and out……too many to keep track of…...she had noted with a sinister satisfaction plenty of women arriving on their lonesome…….it was the morning, the start of a working day…….or people just wishing to get obligatory visits out of the way…….
For Zoya it was perfect….ideal for her to get in and get out unnoticed…….without drawing any undue attention……
And to aid her she had already chosen a naturally unwilling and unwary candidate…..……..
But Zoya took nothing for granted…….there was no such thing as an easy job…….if overlooked, it was the minute and insignificant detail missed that could trip you up and ruin all……
Therefore she planned…….and planned again…..
But time was against her……..she had to make contact with Zita
The woman’s prison had one main entrance…….an old Victorian styled gate, a lot of heavy iron and rivets, when built it had been intended for use by heavy traffic……a small access door built within that was now rarely utilized……next to the gate was a compound primary access control area……one of the modern add on construction projects…..this is where staff and visitors were processed…….the area was festooned with cameras…….they looked cheap, not top of the line, probably black and white, a little fuzzy with the image…….one or two guards patrolled near the old style blue iron gate……looking generally cold and bored……
That was a mistake……the confused and packed front complex layout adding to the workload of the no doubt underpaid and mediocre security staff…….
But like most UK prisons…Beckshill suffered from overcrowding……..Zoya noted that there was a queue of visitors forming already……mixing in with staff………
Zoya watched from inside the Ford Escort…….the windscreen slightly misted over, it was a chilly morning…......which was parked within the main visitors and staff car park….…..once again……visitors’ and staff all intermingled…….it was easy from here to watch who came and who left…….she found the experience very rewarding…….
It was another gray and dour English day…….all it ever seemed to do in this country is rain……and be cold and miserable……hence this was probably why the population always never smiled…….looked depressed all the time……maybe that is why the drank so much…..
She had watched various women arrive by car……probably secretaries or general administrative staff…….the janitorial and kitchen staff arrived at a smaller entrance….to the rear……..
This entrance was manned by far more security staff…….it appeared that they trusted their menial staff less…..
Contraband smuggling no doubt….or cases of it
The arriving women were generally wrapped up warm……..thick coats and scarf’s hiding the true shape of their figures……depending on age they generally wore knee boots or sturdy heeled shoes….stockinged legs were aplenty…….one or two wearing hats over their lovely heads……
Zoya ignored females that were deemed too old…….or had turned to fat………
Some of the younger ones….…just by seeing their fleshy faces she could discern that they were overweight……..and were therefore never suited for her special needs…….
But women of a general build, average weight and height, not to small and waif like either….that who was Zoya was after……..
She observed the average and unsuspecting women going about their normal daily business….just earning a wage in a rather depressing setting…….going to work like lambs……unaware that a she wolf was among them…… watching them all intently…..
As Zoya was watching the world go by …….she briefly took extra interest in one female who was unsuspectingly walking carefree towards the access area…..the girl was rummaging in her handbag……probably looking for some form of ID…….
She was a young woman in her early twenties….. with nice, shapely legs in black nylon hosiery ……black sexy knee high boots with a heel…..the boots tight on her legs….……a short burgundy skirt, she had a nicely shaped backside under that skirt…….Zoya could tell her arse was tight, well shaped and rounded…..……Zoya had the urge to squeeze her cheeks…..
Zoya surmised that the girl wore tights underneath, the skirt being too short for stockings…..…...her thin waist belted in a gray trench coat like jacket, even though the coat looked insulated………the coat was short, not full length……..her neck hidden by what liked like a wine red coloured cashmere scarf……her hair jet black and long, held in a ponytail with a large plastic clip……..a black shoulder bag hanging at her side……..she strutted with the confidence that a pretty young girl should do………the girl looked about her size……Zoya was tempted…….
A clerk maybe……sitting at her desk all day…….legs in black nylon crossed over…….breasts protruding from underneath some type of tight top…….a pen in her mouth as she daydreamed over something other than her boring work……
Zeya’s nipples became a little pert……
But alas…..it was not to be, even though Zoya liked her choices in clothing…..she was looking for someone else……Zoya already had someone else in mind……
The prison was on a bus route……..she watched a red single decked bus pull up at the sheltered stop…..where it proceeded to disgorge its despondent looking passengers…….a motley and forlorn bunch…….not as well groomed or attired as the staff…..lots of jeans and cheap anoraks…..clutching bags of all sorts……no doubt gifts for inmates that required a full search prior to visiting hours…..
Zoya, in her own current state of dress, had assumed the casual and young look…….
All her attire was branded…….quite expensive and of a good quality……..
After three weeks…..and as expected…… her fine black hair had grown somewhat……gone was the too short masculine military style crop…...Zoya now sported a shoulder length bob, rather feminine that extenuated her thin face……she wore little makeup….she did not need to…..she looked fresh and young
She now wore the clothes that had once belonged to Charlotte Carrington…….a nineteen year old student that she had never met…….she had seen her picture though…..the complete opposite from Zoya…..young, doe eyed, auburn hair and rather innocent looking……
Zoya was wearing a tight white T shirt with an open round neck…..……the shirt stretched over her ample breasts…….underneath…..those breasts were supported by one of Charlotte’s soft white full cupped cotton bras…..very comfortable indeed…….no underwire….her breasts were rather free and easy today…..
A short leather biker’s jacket covered most of the T shirt……..
On her wrist she wore a Police issue watch……..
Zoya wore light, tight jeans……Levi’s…...another Charlotte item…….underneath those a pair of hip high plain cotton briefs…….again a comfortable choice……
White trainers and socks adorned her feet
Charlotte’s clothes had fit her well……just like her mother’s did
Zoya wanted to come across as a student…….therefore she dressed like one……on the passenger car seat next to a woman’s shoulder bag, lay a university scarf……no one took students too seriously…….they always blended in…….
She had been observing the prison for two days……Zita was in there…….behind those walls
She knew they were looking for her…..they too were in the shadows….watching and waiting
She had seen nothing on the TV…..she had read nothing in the press……it was like her escape had never happened…..like she did not exist……
But she did exist…….she had affected the lives of others………they were covering up her tracks……..imposing a news blackout
There was a dead police officer……the deaths in the Prison Transport…….Slade and McBride…..and of course the Carrington’s……they would not remain silent forever……there were always leaks….especially in these democracies….
They were playing cat and mouse…….
Regardless of the varied selection of young ladies doing their daily thing and some being very suitable for her task in hand……Zoya was waiting for someone in particular……someone she already knew quite a great deal about…….
The other nameless people going about their business that day were irrelevant……
Zoya finally smiled is satisfaction as she saw what she wanted and had expected to see around this time…..she checked her stolen Police watch……she was on time and very punctual, as per usual……she was a creature of habit this one……she lived by the clock……
-
jaegerhunde01
- Posts: 426
- Joined: Fri Dec 08, 2023 3:22 pm
Re: A RIDDLE WRAPPED IN A MYSTERY INSIDE AN ENIGMA
Zoya had just seen an Austin Coupe……a Princess…….bronze in colour…….drive pat her rear view mirror…..
A woman wearing spectacles was driving the car……looking for a place to park up…….
Zoya grabbed her bag……and Charlotte’s University scarf
She opened the door and got out………
The shoulder bag was hitched…..she made a play of wrapping the scarf around her neck….all the time watching the woman parking her car……
She observed the woman finally park and switch off……..then she appeared to search for items inside……collecting those pieces of personal bric a brac that women always seemed to constantly need……..
The woman exited her car and came into full view……..Zoya saw some leg there…….
Zoya liked what saw already……..
The woman was wearing a dark gray tweed suit…..a classic design, a Choco Chanel copy no doubt……..woollen fabric
The tight skirt hugged her figure, she had wide hips, a rounded and tight derriere….the skirt hemline ended just below the knee, no sign of a slip……..slate gray nylons………gray pumps for shoes…….
The suit jacket was tight and open on her body…….it looked like she was wearing a thin boat neck blouse underneath…..
Time for a closer inspection thought Zoya…..she walked over to the woman who as retrieving her overcoat from inside the car……
When at an appropriate distance ‘Excuse me’
The woman spun on her heels….startled……the nervous type thought Zoya
Well….she was in a prison car park after all……all types of hooligans and misfits hung around this area Zoya supposed…..
The woman had that conservative look……horn rimmed glasses………her hair intricately and ornately made up……in a style of heavy curls and tight buns…….her long neck exposed………large gold clam style earrings……heavy on the makeup
She was not that old……..but she dressed like it was the fifties……..
Smart, conservative and at the same time authoritative……that was the message she was trying to convey…..
The woman’s face was at first suspicious…….her body language defensive……..then she saw who had a approached her……a rather pretty student by the looks of it……jeans, black leather jacket and the compulsory looking Uni Scarf……
She relaxed a little ‘Yes’ she enquired
The apparent student was smiling, a disarming affect ‘Do they have a press entrance’
The woman looked at her….paused….as if thinking why she should answer…..finally ‘I do not think so….any reason why’
‘Oh……..I’m just doing research for my assignment……..I’m doing journalism….trying to do a piece about life inside, that sort of thing…….I think I need an appointment’
Zoya noted that the woman’s blouse was slightly transparent…..she could distinguish underwear beneath, she could just see the trace of a floral pattern under the soft satin and nylon mix….……
‘Yes probably’ said the woman
She was taller than Zoya……she was a big woman, well proportioned……get her out of that rather retro suit……get her in a mini skirt, black tights, a tight crop top and a pair of knee length boots and you would have a woman with the body of a club dancer…..or a hooker…..take your pick
The woman looked at Zoya again…..just seeing a student asking for assistance……the woman had been a undergraduate herself……once……she became a little more friendly…...a little more outgoing with information…..
‘That is the main entrance I am afraid’ she stated……who had also started to pull on her black and heavy overcoat…..
Zoya looked over her shoulder ‘Hell of a crowd though….I don’t fancy that’
‘Sorry’ said the woman
‘Can’t be nice working there and going through that lot all day’ said Zoya
‘Oh…..I do not work there…I can assure you’ replied the woman
‘Ah….I assumed you did, smartly dressed and all….you look very managerial….Ah…sorry…….I didn’t mean to stereotype…..’ Zoya, being cute…apologizing at the end
‘Shudder the thought’ countered the woman ‘I have a commitment here every so often……’
‘No problem anyway……and thank you…...I think I will try and call instead’ offered Zoya
Even though she was talking…..Zoya was subconsciously sizing the woman up……her shoes looked good, they looked her size…..her general build…..Zoya was fitter, leaner…….the woman a little bigger boned…….Zoya decided that her clothes would be a little looser on her…….
But she had the woman’s intimate measurements in the file……..
This was actual field research….nothing like it for accuracy…….the information contained in a file may have become redundant with time….…..
‘Good luck’ said the woman
Zoya saw the woman’s chest expand as she shimmied on her coat…….her underwear pressing under the blouse…..
As an afterthought the woman quipped
‘The queue is fast though……they just propel people through……I do not know why they bother actually……it’s a joke…….they might as well open the main gate’
The woman thought she was being sarcastic……but in fact she had provided some very useful information…….
‘Really’ said Zoya ‘I thought prison security was supposed to be tight’
‘You would think so’ said the woman, placing her bag strap over her shoulder ’but they never pay attention…..just run my bag through an x ray……never even look at me’
‘Makes you think’ said Zoya….pretending to look concerned……..
‘Well…..Cheerio’ the woman was locking her car……
‘Bye….have a nice day’ countered Zoya
Zoya went back to car…..still taking peeks of the woman strutting over to the main office……her heels striking hard on the concrete…….those nice legs in gray nylon hosiery……..
Zoya had gained one important and missing vital fact from this field research…….other than knowing that the woman’s clothes would definitely fit her…..or that security at the prison was slack and full of holes…….or even that their general facial characteristics were similar……..there was something missing from the file and the photographs that she had now acquired ……..
Zoya had obtained the woman’s voice……her vocal tone, her pitch and method of speech………………….
Zoya was smiling…..thinking of her long absent Zita……somewhere inside those moss encrusted walls……..
See you soon thought Zoya……..
A woman wearing spectacles was driving the car……looking for a place to park up…….
Zoya grabbed her bag……and Charlotte’s University scarf
She opened the door and got out………
The shoulder bag was hitched…..she made a play of wrapping the scarf around her neck….all the time watching the woman parking her car……
She observed the woman finally park and switch off……..then she appeared to search for items inside……collecting those pieces of personal bric a brac that women always seemed to constantly need……..
The woman exited her car and came into full view……..Zoya saw some leg there…….
Zoya liked what saw already……..
The woman was wearing a dark gray tweed suit…..a classic design, a Choco Chanel copy no doubt……..woollen fabric
The tight skirt hugged her figure, she had wide hips, a rounded and tight derriere….the skirt hemline ended just below the knee, no sign of a slip……..slate gray nylons………gray pumps for shoes…….
The suit jacket was tight and open on her body…….it looked like she was wearing a thin boat neck blouse underneath…..
Time for a closer inspection thought Zoya…..she walked over to the woman who as retrieving her overcoat from inside the car……
When at an appropriate distance ‘Excuse me’
The woman spun on her heels….startled……the nervous type thought Zoya
Well….she was in a prison car park after all……all types of hooligans and misfits hung around this area Zoya supposed…..
The woman had that conservative look……horn rimmed glasses………her hair intricately and ornately made up……in a style of heavy curls and tight buns…….her long neck exposed………large gold clam style earrings……heavy on the makeup
She was not that old……..but she dressed like it was the fifties……..
Smart, conservative and at the same time authoritative……that was the message she was trying to convey…..
The woman’s face was at first suspicious…….her body language defensive……..then she saw who had a approached her……a rather pretty student by the looks of it……jeans, black leather jacket and the compulsory looking Uni Scarf……
She relaxed a little ‘Yes’ she enquired
The apparent student was smiling, a disarming affect ‘Do they have a press entrance’
The woman looked at her….paused….as if thinking why she should answer…..finally ‘I do not think so….any reason why’
‘Oh……..I’m just doing research for my assignment……..I’m doing journalism….trying to do a piece about life inside, that sort of thing…….I think I need an appointment’
Zoya noted that the woman’s blouse was slightly transparent…..she could distinguish underwear beneath, she could just see the trace of a floral pattern under the soft satin and nylon mix….……
‘Yes probably’ said the woman
She was taller than Zoya……she was a big woman, well proportioned……get her out of that rather retro suit……get her in a mini skirt, black tights, a tight crop top and a pair of knee length boots and you would have a woman with the body of a club dancer…..or a hooker…..take your pick
The woman looked at Zoya again…..just seeing a student asking for assistance……the woman had been a undergraduate herself……once……she became a little more friendly…...a little more outgoing with information…..
‘That is the main entrance I am afraid’ she stated……who had also started to pull on her black and heavy overcoat…..
Zoya looked over her shoulder ‘Hell of a crowd though….I don’t fancy that’
‘Sorry’ said the woman
‘Can’t be nice working there and going through that lot all day’ said Zoya
‘Oh…..I do not work there…I can assure you’ replied the woman
‘Ah….I assumed you did, smartly dressed and all….you look very managerial….Ah…sorry…….I didn’t mean to stereotype…..’ Zoya, being cute…apologizing at the end
‘Shudder the thought’ countered the woman ‘I have a commitment here every so often……’
‘No problem anyway……and thank you…...I think I will try and call instead’ offered Zoya
Even though she was talking…..Zoya was subconsciously sizing the woman up……her shoes looked good, they looked her size…..her general build…..Zoya was fitter, leaner…….the woman a little bigger boned…….Zoya decided that her clothes would be a little looser on her…….
But she had the woman’s intimate measurements in the file……..
This was actual field research….nothing like it for accuracy…….the information contained in a file may have become redundant with time….…..
‘Good luck’ said the woman
Zoya saw the woman’s chest expand as she shimmied on her coat…….her underwear pressing under the blouse…..
As an afterthought the woman quipped
‘The queue is fast though……they just propel people through……I do not know why they bother actually……it’s a joke…….they might as well open the main gate’
The woman thought she was being sarcastic……but in fact she had provided some very useful information…….
‘Really’ said Zoya ‘I thought prison security was supposed to be tight’
‘You would think so’ said the woman, placing her bag strap over her shoulder ’but they never pay attention…..just run my bag through an x ray……never even look at me’
‘Makes you think’ said Zoya….pretending to look concerned……..
‘Well…..Cheerio’ the woman was locking her car……
‘Bye….have a nice day’ countered Zoya
Zoya went back to car…..still taking peeks of the woman strutting over to the main office……her heels striking hard on the concrete…….those nice legs in gray nylon hosiery……..
Zoya had gained one important and missing vital fact from this field research…….other than knowing that the woman’s clothes would definitely fit her…..or that security at the prison was slack and full of holes…….or even that their general facial characteristics were similar……..there was something missing from the file and the photographs that she had now acquired ……..
Zoya had obtained the woman’s voice……her vocal tone, her pitch and method of speech………………….
Zoya was smiling…..thinking of her long absent Zita……somewhere inside those moss encrusted walls……..
See you soon thought Zoya……..
-
jaegerhunde01
- Posts: 426
- Joined: Fri Dec 08, 2023 3:22 pm
Re: A RIDDLE WRAPPED IN A MYSTERY INSIDE AN ENIGMA
THE SAFE HOUSE – THE CITY
NEXT DAY
Zoya was now sat at a table in the attic of a safe room…….
A simple cot style bed had been set up in one corner of the studio like room…….
A mirror and sink on one wall, a shower and not much else……low light with shadow…....the room was very Spartan…..
It was a very warm room though……..with a large old fashioned radiator that had been fixed to the whole side of one wall.
Snug in winter, hell in summer.
An old wardrobe stored her meagre selection of clothing.
Well….. not her clothing really……only her own by theft
Which she preferred them to be……stolen, purloined……chosen by another…… previously on the body of that same person who had once liked to wear them……
The clothes on the cheap wire hangers had belonged mainly to Charlotte Carrington
As previously stated, they were mostly the practical and casual wear of a young woman……
A long dark blue denim skirt was hanging there……Zoya really liked that one…….a large split had been stitched to the front…..when she had walked in it the subsequent movement had revealed a lot of leg, and inner thigh…….when she had left the Carrington home she had worn black tights underneath …..
Complete with Doctor Martin ankle boots…….the skirt had attracted a lot of attention……
The skirt had been complimented with a tight emerald nylon short sleeved top with an open neck which accentuated her curved breasts….supported underneath by one of Charlotte’s black lacy push up brassieres, the absent daughter being thankfully oblivious to the fact that someone was stealing her clothes and undies……..a matching pair of her skimpy bikini’s encased her pubic area….. Charlotte’s black plastic cosmetic jewellery….…plastic bangles and what not….dangled from various places
She had finally left the Carrington residence dressed as such…….
She had looked young and carefree when she had entered the taxi…..a taxi that had taken her to the local train station…….she had a small backpack and a large black canvas carry all……
The backpack was again Charlotte’s…..a spare……likewise was the canvas bag……full of Charlotte’s spare casual clothes and underwear…….
Her parents had been left upstairs gagged and bound in their separate bedrooms………
Poor Charlotte when she was due to return on that following Monday…..finding her parents tied up……..herself robbed of her clothes, personal items and intimates……her bedroom ransacked and violated
Zoya sat at the desk, studying…..contemplating…..planning..…..she was hot and clammy……..the heat was really intense, the radiator fixed and blasting heat……….in a way she liked it…...it reminded her of that time in Bangkok……..that seedy hotel room in a slum area of the city……her meeting that US Air Force officer……the woman had liked girls……..especially European girls posing as tourists…….after a few drinks at a seedy bar, a touch or two, a knowing look…..they had eventually both sauntered off from the bar in their tight shorts and skimpy and revealing tops……..the run down hotel, rooms by the hour….. both of them naked on the cheap and well used bed…….their tanned moist bodies……both of them hot and clammy…...the wet sheets…..the damp pillows……both writhing on and groping each other…….the deep and eager kisses of the American female……her ecstatic moaning and squirming as Zola played inside her…….
The shock in her eyes….in mid elation, her body poised to release……as the thick and chemically saturated pad was forced over and onto her mouth and nose……….
The ensuing struggle……the grappling as they both twisted on the bed……Zoya latched on like a limpet…..her legs wrapped around the naked American…..constantly squeezing the pad…….never releasing her grip on the American’s face..…the muted screams……..the outraged moans that were becoming weaker and weaker…….until finally the American female went limp, her body fully compliant and then completely silent……her last whimper the fluttering of her eyelids…..
Zoya had walked into the Airbase presenting her new ID………dressed in the officer’s tight shorts, string top, sandals and underwear……..
Room service had taken the lesbian officer away…….she had been stuffed in a laundry cart, naked, blindfolded, gagged and bound with lots duct tape…...the Thai housekeeping staff kept her out of the picture for a while……whereupon Zoya lived her life for a short time…..
For a whole week Zoya went on duty as the officer……. she accessed the woman’s workstation…..she had bled the database dry……..
Then left the same way……the main gate, never to return
The real Captain was eventually found in a dumpster, deep within a little travelled brothel district…..naked and drugged to the gills……
When recovering at a hospital……she could remember nothing of the event……maybe it was selective memory…..still, it ruined her career…….she was posted to Greenland……which tended to be lesbian free…..all year round
That was another story that had never made the headlines…….
Zoya sat just in a pair of knickers……..high briefs, black and satin, seamless….. Plainly adorned with a little bow…..the label stated that they had been purchased at Marks & Spencer……
Charlotte had good taste……a trait no doubt passed on by the mother
Zoya remembered her humbling of Claire Carrington…..all round bitch, nasty, cruel, vain and unfaithful in her vows…..
Zoya…..while ensconced in her home……had worn nearly in its entirety Claire Carrington’s complete wardrobe…..five years of Spartan, male orientated living and brutality was now just a distant memory…….
Thanks to Claire’s taste in expensive and stylish attire Zoya was now fully reacquainted with the feminine world……..up to date so to speak……ready to rejoin society…….well, a civilised society at least
Over two weeks, Zoya had enjoyed her daily mornings with Claire Carrington……all within the supposed sanctity and safety of her own bedroom………Zoya sitting at the women’s large dressing table……..usually naked, just fresh from the shower, one of Claire’s slinky silk nightdresses discarded on the bathroom floor…….
Zoya taking her time in selecting and dressing in Claire’s voluminous collection of undies……..using her makeup…….trimming herself………using her intimate effects ………
The unfortunate and totally attentive Claire usually uttered no protest……..
During these morning sessions Claire was very near Zoya……in fact she sat in a chair next to Zoya……well, tied to a chair actually……….and very tightly cleave gagged to boot……..she was topless and had been reduced to just wearing a pair of knickers……..if she was lucky…….her arms tightly pinioned behind the back of the chair…..causing her ample breastage to thrust and push out….…her large round nipples, her breasts sagging naturally…….wobbling when she moved…….especially when Zoya playfully tried out shades of makeup, lipstick being one, on her naked white, rounded tits……….mocking her and stating proudly what shade suited Zoya the most…….
Claire’s legs were spread wide and apart when tied to the chair……her knickers not really up to the job of hiding the contents of her crotch…..leaving no doubt that the hair colour on her head was natural…..….and Zoya regularly touched her in places best left to the imagination…….
And Claire was dirty……smelly now…….she had not bathed since the morning when they had both been kidnapped at gunpoint……..
The black lacy front dipped knickers worn since that fateful morning were now quite disgusting….…
Her makeup was a mess, ruined foundation and mascara……her once neat and clean hair was dishevelled, oily looking…….dirty and thick with sweat……..and she stank……stank all over, her crotch, her arse and armpits…..…….her breath and teeth felt awful
She was a far cry from the pristine, arrogant and overly confident beauty she had been that morning of the funeral……..
Her face was blotched and puffy…..she looked very tired indeed……….deep sleep was an impossibility……
Claire had been forced to watch this crazy bitch steal and use all her clothes…..all her personal things…...more than that……the cow had stolen her life……Claire herself being reduced to the base level of just being a passive observer…….a slave in her own home…….
Daily she was forced to watch the creepy swine getting dressed in her things……just helping herself…….parading around her bedroom like it was her own and no doubt the rest of her large and expensive house…...
The woman mostly kept her gagged all day……with no coverings……tied….she had been drugged twice…….God knows what had gone on……but she had definitely felt sore in places better not mentioned or remembered afterward………
In the afternoons she was generally left bound on the bed…………….after a toilet and water break
Sometimes in the chair…..she had been left alone but blindfolded, as well as gagged and tied…….in total darkness she had heard goings on……but it was hard to make out what was happening…….but more than one person were doing things when she had been rendered sightless…….
She thought she had heard low grunting and gasping……..
NEXT DAY
Zoya was now sat at a table in the attic of a safe room…….
A simple cot style bed had been set up in one corner of the studio like room…….
A mirror and sink on one wall, a shower and not much else……low light with shadow…....the room was very Spartan…..
It was a very warm room though……..with a large old fashioned radiator that had been fixed to the whole side of one wall.
Snug in winter, hell in summer.
An old wardrobe stored her meagre selection of clothing.
Well….. not her clothing really……only her own by theft
Which she preferred them to be……stolen, purloined……chosen by another…… previously on the body of that same person who had once liked to wear them……
The clothes on the cheap wire hangers had belonged mainly to Charlotte Carrington
As previously stated, they were mostly the practical and casual wear of a young woman……
A long dark blue denim skirt was hanging there……Zoya really liked that one…….a large split had been stitched to the front…..when she had walked in it the subsequent movement had revealed a lot of leg, and inner thigh…….when she had left the Carrington home she had worn black tights underneath …..
Complete with Doctor Martin ankle boots…….the skirt had attracted a lot of attention……
The skirt had been complimented with a tight emerald nylon short sleeved top with an open neck which accentuated her curved breasts….supported underneath by one of Charlotte’s black lacy push up brassieres, the absent daughter being thankfully oblivious to the fact that someone was stealing her clothes and undies……..a matching pair of her skimpy bikini’s encased her pubic area….. Charlotte’s black plastic cosmetic jewellery….…plastic bangles and what not….dangled from various places
She had finally left the Carrington residence dressed as such…….
She had looked young and carefree when she had entered the taxi…..a taxi that had taken her to the local train station…….she had a small backpack and a large black canvas carry all……
The backpack was again Charlotte’s…..a spare……likewise was the canvas bag……full of Charlotte’s spare casual clothes and underwear…….
Her parents had been left upstairs gagged and bound in their separate bedrooms………
Poor Charlotte when she was due to return on that following Monday…..finding her parents tied up……..herself robbed of her clothes, personal items and intimates……her bedroom ransacked and violated
Zoya sat at the desk, studying…..contemplating…..planning..…..she was hot and clammy……..the heat was really intense, the radiator fixed and blasting heat……….in a way she liked it…...it reminded her of that time in Bangkok……..that seedy hotel room in a slum area of the city……her meeting that US Air Force officer……the woman had liked girls……..especially European girls posing as tourists…….after a few drinks at a seedy bar, a touch or two, a knowing look…..they had eventually both sauntered off from the bar in their tight shorts and skimpy and revealing tops……..the run down hotel, rooms by the hour….. both of them naked on the cheap and well used bed…….their tanned moist bodies……both of them hot and clammy…...the wet sheets…..the damp pillows……both writhing on and groping each other…….the deep and eager kisses of the American female……her ecstatic moaning and squirming as Zola played inside her…….
The shock in her eyes….in mid elation, her body poised to release……as the thick and chemically saturated pad was forced over and onto her mouth and nose……….
The ensuing struggle……the grappling as they both twisted on the bed……Zoya latched on like a limpet…..her legs wrapped around the naked American…..constantly squeezing the pad…….never releasing her grip on the American’s face..…the muted screams……..the outraged moans that were becoming weaker and weaker…….until finally the American female went limp, her body fully compliant and then completely silent……her last whimper the fluttering of her eyelids…..
Zoya had walked into the Airbase presenting her new ID………dressed in the officer’s tight shorts, string top, sandals and underwear……..
Room service had taken the lesbian officer away…….she had been stuffed in a laundry cart, naked, blindfolded, gagged and bound with lots duct tape…...the Thai housekeeping staff kept her out of the picture for a while……whereupon Zoya lived her life for a short time…..
For a whole week Zoya went on duty as the officer……. she accessed the woman’s workstation…..she had bled the database dry……..
Then left the same way……the main gate, never to return
The real Captain was eventually found in a dumpster, deep within a little travelled brothel district…..naked and drugged to the gills……
When recovering at a hospital……she could remember nothing of the event……maybe it was selective memory…..still, it ruined her career…….she was posted to Greenland……which tended to be lesbian free…..all year round
That was another story that had never made the headlines…….
Zoya sat just in a pair of knickers……..high briefs, black and satin, seamless….. Plainly adorned with a little bow…..the label stated that they had been purchased at Marks & Spencer……
Charlotte had good taste……a trait no doubt passed on by the mother
Zoya remembered her humbling of Claire Carrington…..all round bitch, nasty, cruel, vain and unfaithful in her vows…..
Zoya…..while ensconced in her home……had worn nearly in its entirety Claire Carrington’s complete wardrobe…..five years of Spartan, male orientated living and brutality was now just a distant memory…….
Thanks to Claire’s taste in expensive and stylish attire Zoya was now fully reacquainted with the feminine world……..up to date so to speak……ready to rejoin society…….well, a civilised society at least
Over two weeks, Zoya had enjoyed her daily mornings with Claire Carrington……all within the supposed sanctity and safety of her own bedroom………Zoya sitting at the women’s large dressing table……..usually naked, just fresh from the shower, one of Claire’s slinky silk nightdresses discarded on the bathroom floor…….
Zoya taking her time in selecting and dressing in Claire’s voluminous collection of undies……..using her makeup…….trimming herself………using her intimate effects ………
The unfortunate and totally attentive Claire usually uttered no protest……..
During these morning sessions Claire was very near Zoya……in fact she sat in a chair next to Zoya……well, tied to a chair actually……….and very tightly cleave gagged to boot……..she was topless and had been reduced to just wearing a pair of knickers……..if she was lucky…….her arms tightly pinioned behind the back of the chair…..causing her ample breastage to thrust and push out….…her large round nipples, her breasts sagging naturally…….wobbling when she moved…….especially when Zoya playfully tried out shades of makeup, lipstick being one, on her naked white, rounded tits……….mocking her and stating proudly what shade suited Zoya the most…….
Claire’s legs were spread wide and apart when tied to the chair……her knickers not really up to the job of hiding the contents of her crotch…..leaving no doubt that the hair colour on her head was natural…..….and Zoya regularly touched her in places best left to the imagination…….
And Claire was dirty……smelly now…….she had not bathed since the morning when they had both been kidnapped at gunpoint……..
The black lacy front dipped knickers worn since that fateful morning were now quite disgusting….…
Her makeup was a mess, ruined foundation and mascara……her once neat and clean hair was dishevelled, oily looking…….dirty and thick with sweat……..and she stank……stank all over, her crotch, her arse and armpits…..…….her breath and teeth felt awful
She was a far cry from the pristine, arrogant and overly confident beauty she had been that morning of the funeral……..
Her face was blotched and puffy…..she looked very tired indeed……….deep sleep was an impossibility……
Claire had been forced to watch this crazy bitch steal and use all her clothes…..all her personal things…...more than that……the cow had stolen her life……Claire herself being reduced to the base level of just being a passive observer…….a slave in her own home…….
Daily she was forced to watch the creepy swine getting dressed in her things……just helping herself…….parading around her bedroom like it was her own and no doubt the rest of her large and expensive house…...
The woman mostly kept her gagged all day……with no coverings……tied….she had been drugged twice…….God knows what had gone on……but she had definitely felt sore in places better not mentioned or remembered afterward………
In the afternoons she was generally left bound on the bed…………….after a toilet and water break
Sometimes in the chair…..she had been left alone but blindfolded, as well as gagged and tied…….in total darkness she had heard goings on……but it was hard to make out what was happening…….but more than one person were doing things when she had been rendered sightless…….
She thought she had heard low grunting and gasping……..
-
jaegerhunde01
- Posts: 426
- Joined: Fri Dec 08, 2023 3:22 pm
Re: A RIDDLE WRAPPED IN A MYSTERY INSIDE AN ENIGMA
There had been toilet breaks……escorted and all scrutinized by this bitch…….which had been mortification in itself…….
She would never be the same again……it was total humiliation…….she had been broken by the end of the ordeal……
Claire really thought that the bitch was going out of her way to degrade her…….but why…..she had never met her before, not to her knowledge……….
But the worse trauma was seeing those on the outside world……..and she could do nothing to raise the alarm…..her plight went unnoticed by the world outside……
Through the net curtains and the large window in front of the dressing table she could see her so called friends and neighbours going about their business within the affluent suburban Cul de Sac just below……doing their daily thing………being women…..
Except they were all fully clothed…..their respect and dignity intact…….while she had been stripped and gagged by an insane stranger…….they were so near and yet so far…..
At first on seeing Julia….who lived in the house across from them…..she moaned and pulled loudly on her bonds……..Julia, smartly dressed walking to her drive, heading for her garage…….totally unaware of her gagged neighbour whimpering and struggling behind that innocent net curtain just across the street…….
Claire could see Julia laughing to herself…….happy at some unknown joke or amusing event…….
It was soul destroying to watch in helplessness as Julia drove off…….
The nut job prancing around in some of Claire’s fresh and clean underwear just laughed out loud…….
But after a while even crying became laborious…….eventually Claire just sat there, sullen and gagged….maybe watching Rebecca and her grown children doing the school run…….
Big Tom….her husband who had previously ignored her flirting………well, her flirting days were over for a long time to come
No one came by…….no one knocked on the door to say hello, or concerned on why no one as seen her for a while….
Even Charlotte had not been on the phone…
It dawned on Claire on how popular she had really been……..false smiles……..all smoke and mirrors…….she had disappeared for two weeks and no one had given a damn…..not even her lover Andrew had enquired where she was……..
And Roger……My God…what was happening to him……she had not seen him since the morning of the kidnapping…….
Claire thought of what had happened to her….on what she had experienced at the hands of this sociopath……the freak was a sex maniac……
What the hell was happening to Roger?
Not that she had ever cared much….but still
In fact, unknown to Claire……..who was generally kept as a bound prisoner….……when Zoya was getting dressed in Claire’s intimate apparel and clothing…….Claire’s husband was normally having a nice cup of tea and reading the newspapers…….
Roger on the first day of being adducted had given the full story on his wife who was partially dressed and tied up in the boot of his car……
He was not a bad looking man……
Zoya…who liked normal sex and had been denied for five years had thought what a waste…..
The once depressed, humiliated and rundown Roger felt like a new man……sipping his tea he felt 100% alive…….he was having the best sex in his life……….
And Claire had finally had her comeuppance…..and…after………when events had calmed down he would leave her for good………
Zoya looked strong and lithe…….her limbs muscled and toned……..in just her briefs she looked almost Amazonian……
She was looking at colour photographs of the woman she had recently stalked and spoke to in the prison car park just yesterday…….
Paddy had provided them……like he had provided the safe house……..after she had made contact from a public call box…… Paddy had provided sanctuary…..
She had left the Carrington house late one night…….in one of Claire’s jogging outfit’s……..all dark spandex and nylon…….found a call box, made a call and jogged back……..running past that sexy Julia’s house………the lights were on…….she had paused, pretending to lace up her white trainer shoe, she saw no one inside…….in another time and another place she thought……..and then proceeded to jog home……Well…….Claire’s home at least….
She smiled when thinking of Paddy……he was old now, but his eyes had never changed…….his eyes never lied, all she had ever seen was genuine affection and warmth there……only to others, enemies to the cause had he been vengeful and violent…….without hesitation he had offered sanctuary……like she knew he would.
Paddy was the nearest thing she had left for family………although old he appeared timeless…….he had even known her Mama…….they had been friends……going as far back as Leipzig in the old days……she believed that they had even known each other during the war…….that was in Berlin
She studied the photographs….capturing the woman in her everyday and normal activity…….
The woman was totally unaware that she was being followed…..her image captured on photo film…….
Paddy used people in his organisation that were invisible……not that they were not physical…….but had been made so by society……he mainly used immigrants, people of colour……those looked upon as being quite not the same as those being born white…… those who did the jobs no indigenous person wished to be seen doing……..people who lived hand in mouth……..it was a dangerous form of racism ……that would one day surely backfire on the plump and wealthy…….
The Helots and the Spartans……
The woman would never have spotted her tracker in a million years……
There was an accompanying file with the photographs…….within contained a lot of personal information on the woman……..
The woman, actually 29 years old………her mode of dress tended to imply that she was older…….brown, hazel eyes…..shallow cheek bones……..slim in body and build……..after seeing her in person Zoya was satisfied that the information in the file was accurate………
She read her name again……
Ms Miranda Richardson…………
She was currently single, lived alone in a modest but well maintained flat, a good area……predominately white……..
Her occupation was a teacher, a school mistress at a private girl’s school……….she had received a private education herself……her father being a mid level banker in the city, her mother a competitive horse trainer…….her back ground was definitely upper middle class…….
She had never been married……..
Someone with her background would normally not be anywhere near a prison……but her employer had provided the gap that Zoya was looking for…….…and consequently they had made Richardson a suitable candidate for replacement…..
The woman’s prestigious Catholic School had always supported charity work…….which filtered down to their employees who were obliged to partake………it was part of their contract…...on a staggered basis Miranda Richardson provided a literary lesson to inmates at the prison……a sort of book club…..another vain attempt at reform through education…..misplaced enlightenment
She was paid overtime for her efforts though…….
Zoya noted further information on the school...…It was more an expensive girls finishing school……it was not really girls who studied there……..but rich young ladies……no doubt being groomed to be paired off and bred with suitable and comparative wealthy families…..a rather archaic institution disguised in modern and progressive language…..
The institution, hiding behind the respectable facade of the church stank of disguised marital slavery……..
Stephenson was not native to the capital…….she was from the North East of the country…..near the Scottish border…….her accent was not her natural one, the cultured accent she had adopted over time was learned and honed in a similar finishing school………
More importantly her immediate family were a few hundred miles away….she lived alone……there would be no surprise visits by well meaning but bothersome relatives……there would be no sister or cousin barging in at a inappropriate moment for what Zoya had planned for Ms Stephenson……..
Zoya again studied the woman’s photograph……when in public, especially at work she adopted a rather unusual, but very flamboyant hairstyle……..the style mirrored certain film stars of the 1950’s………Zoya was reminded of that Hitchcock Movie…….The Birds….some of the women in that had stern and harsh hair styles….tight clothing…….it all looked very domineering…….
Paddy had provided an expensive wig that mimicked Stephenson’s hair style…..brown hair tied up in an intricate bun, loose curls, high on the neck…..complete with the large gold pin and ebony clip that mirrored those used by Stephenson…..the wig was a perfect copy of the style worn by the teacher when she was at work…….especially when she had visited the prison
She picked up another glossy looking photograph…….
Tortoise shell framed glasses……red lip stick, lots of makeup…….gold clam shaped earrings …..Brown flesh colored stockings or tights…..knee length tweed skirt and suit jacket…….a cream coloured thin satin blouse with a frilly collar…..
Clunky chocolate brown heels with a strap over the foot....all very well the stern, conservative school mistress expected in the 1950’s rather than the 80s. A statement rather than conformity to the decadence of the times she supposed….…no doubt to give her young ladies a lesson in morality……..another lie of course…….as Ms Miranda Stephenson was having an affair with the married sports master…..a guy named Trevor Hughes……a Welshman of course.
Ms Stephenson…..note Ms, she did not like being referred to as Miss…..was an outwardly confident modern professional with the airs of the middle class…..very austere in her dress at work…. almost retro, demanding at times and curt in manner……she was gunning for headmistress at some point in the
She would never be the same again……it was total humiliation…….she had been broken by the end of the ordeal……
Claire really thought that the bitch was going out of her way to degrade her…….but why…..she had never met her before, not to her knowledge……….
But the worse trauma was seeing those on the outside world……..and she could do nothing to raise the alarm…..her plight went unnoticed by the world outside……
Through the net curtains and the large window in front of the dressing table she could see her so called friends and neighbours going about their business within the affluent suburban Cul de Sac just below……doing their daily thing………being women…..
Except they were all fully clothed…..their respect and dignity intact…….while she had been stripped and gagged by an insane stranger…….they were so near and yet so far…..
At first on seeing Julia….who lived in the house across from them…..she moaned and pulled loudly on her bonds……..Julia, smartly dressed walking to her drive, heading for her garage…….totally unaware of her gagged neighbour whimpering and struggling behind that innocent net curtain just across the street…….
Claire could see Julia laughing to herself…….happy at some unknown joke or amusing event…….
It was soul destroying to watch in helplessness as Julia drove off…….
The nut job prancing around in some of Claire’s fresh and clean underwear just laughed out loud…….
But after a while even crying became laborious…….eventually Claire just sat there, sullen and gagged….maybe watching Rebecca and her grown children doing the school run…….
Big Tom….her husband who had previously ignored her flirting………well, her flirting days were over for a long time to come
No one came by…….no one knocked on the door to say hello, or concerned on why no one as seen her for a while….
Even Charlotte had not been on the phone…
It dawned on Claire on how popular she had really been……..false smiles……..all smoke and mirrors…….she had disappeared for two weeks and no one had given a damn…..not even her lover Andrew had enquired where she was……..
And Roger……My God…what was happening to him……she had not seen him since the morning of the kidnapping…….
Claire thought of what had happened to her….on what she had experienced at the hands of this sociopath……the freak was a sex maniac……
What the hell was happening to Roger?
Not that she had ever cared much….but still
In fact, unknown to Claire……..who was generally kept as a bound prisoner….……when Zoya was getting dressed in Claire’s intimate apparel and clothing…….Claire’s husband was normally having a nice cup of tea and reading the newspapers…….
Roger on the first day of being adducted had given the full story on his wife who was partially dressed and tied up in the boot of his car……
He was not a bad looking man……
Zoya…who liked normal sex and had been denied for five years had thought what a waste…..
The once depressed, humiliated and rundown Roger felt like a new man……sipping his tea he felt 100% alive…….he was having the best sex in his life……….
And Claire had finally had her comeuppance…..and…after………when events had calmed down he would leave her for good………
Zoya looked strong and lithe…….her limbs muscled and toned……..in just her briefs she looked almost Amazonian……
She was looking at colour photographs of the woman she had recently stalked and spoke to in the prison car park just yesterday…….
Paddy had provided them……like he had provided the safe house……..after she had made contact from a public call box…… Paddy had provided sanctuary…..
She had left the Carrington house late one night…….in one of Claire’s jogging outfit’s……..all dark spandex and nylon…….found a call box, made a call and jogged back……..running past that sexy Julia’s house………the lights were on…….she had paused, pretending to lace up her white trainer shoe, she saw no one inside…….in another time and another place she thought……..and then proceeded to jog home……Well…….Claire’s home at least….
She smiled when thinking of Paddy……he was old now, but his eyes had never changed…….his eyes never lied, all she had ever seen was genuine affection and warmth there……only to others, enemies to the cause had he been vengeful and violent…….without hesitation he had offered sanctuary……like she knew he would.
Paddy was the nearest thing she had left for family………although old he appeared timeless…….he had even known her Mama…….they had been friends……going as far back as Leipzig in the old days……she believed that they had even known each other during the war…….that was in Berlin
She studied the photographs….capturing the woman in her everyday and normal activity…….
The woman was totally unaware that she was being followed…..her image captured on photo film…….
Paddy used people in his organisation that were invisible……not that they were not physical…….but had been made so by society……he mainly used immigrants, people of colour……those looked upon as being quite not the same as those being born white…… those who did the jobs no indigenous person wished to be seen doing……..people who lived hand in mouth……..it was a dangerous form of racism ……that would one day surely backfire on the plump and wealthy…….
The Helots and the Spartans……
The woman would never have spotted her tracker in a million years……
There was an accompanying file with the photographs…….within contained a lot of personal information on the woman……..
The woman, actually 29 years old………her mode of dress tended to imply that she was older…….brown, hazel eyes…..shallow cheek bones……..slim in body and build……..after seeing her in person Zoya was satisfied that the information in the file was accurate………
She read her name again……
Ms Miranda Richardson…………
She was currently single, lived alone in a modest but well maintained flat, a good area……predominately white……..
Her occupation was a teacher, a school mistress at a private girl’s school……….she had received a private education herself……her father being a mid level banker in the city, her mother a competitive horse trainer…….her back ground was definitely upper middle class…….
She had never been married……..
Someone with her background would normally not be anywhere near a prison……but her employer had provided the gap that Zoya was looking for…….…and consequently they had made Richardson a suitable candidate for replacement…..
The woman’s prestigious Catholic School had always supported charity work…….which filtered down to their employees who were obliged to partake………it was part of their contract…...on a staggered basis Miranda Richardson provided a literary lesson to inmates at the prison……a sort of book club…..another vain attempt at reform through education…..misplaced enlightenment
She was paid overtime for her efforts though…….
Zoya noted further information on the school...…It was more an expensive girls finishing school……it was not really girls who studied there……..but rich young ladies……no doubt being groomed to be paired off and bred with suitable and comparative wealthy families…..a rather archaic institution disguised in modern and progressive language…..
The institution, hiding behind the respectable facade of the church stank of disguised marital slavery……..
Stephenson was not native to the capital…….she was from the North East of the country…..near the Scottish border…….her accent was not her natural one, the cultured accent she had adopted over time was learned and honed in a similar finishing school………
More importantly her immediate family were a few hundred miles away….she lived alone……there would be no surprise visits by well meaning but bothersome relatives……there would be no sister or cousin barging in at a inappropriate moment for what Zoya had planned for Ms Stephenson……..
Zoya again studied the woman’s photograph……when in public, especially at work she adopted a rather unusual, but very flamboyant hairstyle……..the style mirrored certain film stars of the 1950’s………Zoya was reminded of that Hitchcock Movie…….The Birds….some of the women in that had stern and harsh hair styles….tight clothing…….it all looked very domineering…….
Paddy had provided an expensive wig that mimicked Stephenson’s hair style…..brown hair tied up in an intricate bun, loose curls, high on the neck…..complete with the large gold pin and ebony clip that mirrored those used by Stephenson…..the wig was a perfect copy of the style worn by the teacher when she was at work…….especially when she had visited the prison
She picked up another glossy looking photograph…….
Tortoise shell framed glasses……red lip stick, lots of makeup…….gold clam shaped earrings …..Brown flesh colored stockings or tights…..knee length tweed skirt and suit jacket…….a cream coloured thin satin blouse with a frilly collar…..
Clunky chocolate brown heels with a strap over the foot....all very well the stern, conservative school mistress expected in the 1950’s rather than the 80s. A statement rather than conformity to the decadence of the times she supposed….…no doubt to give her young ladies a lesson in morality……..another lie of course…….as Ms Miranda Stephenson was having an affair with the married sports master…..a guy named Trevor Hughes……a Welshman of course.
Ms Stephenson…..note Ms, she did not like being referred to as Miss…..was an outwardly confident modern professional with the airs of the middle class…..very austere in her dress at work…. almost retro, demanding at times and curt in manner……she was gunning for headmistress at some point in the
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jaegerhunde01
- Posts: 426
- Joined: Fri Dec 08, 2023 3:22 pm
Re: A RIDDLE WRAPPED IN A MYSTERY INSIDE AN ENIGMA
future….but outside of work she had another life, away from the suffocating and formal regime of the finishing school.
Zoya selected another photograph……this one showed the woman laughing…..all smiles and teeth, lipstick smeared lips, a dark lipstick, a deep wine red..….kohl around her eyes…..a laughing woman with her hair worn down, free and long……..her fine hair cascading over her shoulders, a sweeping fringe…….she was wearing a long black dress of what looked like shimmering satin and nylon that was slightly sheer…….. a seamless and plain slip just visible underneath, a plunging neckline advertising a deep cleavage……..the dress had a split on one thigh…..providing a great view of a well shaped black stockinged thigh…..her knee….her lower legs……the tights underneath the dress were obviously sheer to waist………heeled black ankle strapped shoes……open toed…….the tights covering her feet were seamless…….one could discern her painted toenails underneath the nylons……..she wore flashy jewellery, probably not the real thing, but they all looked good as they glistened in the artificial light……..
The woman had a man in each arm…..by the look on the faces of all three a lot of alcohol had been consumed at that stage of the night…….the embrace of the two men looked more than that needed for a simple keepsake photograph…….the posture looked a little too intimate for that………..
The photograph had been taken at a nightclub…….
The establishment being well known as the haunt of swingers…..people who liked to go both ways…….sometimes with men…….on other occasions there were women only………or just as a group
Zoya then selected another interesting photograph………
This being the school authorized official portrait of Miranda Stephenson……the photograph had hung on a wall at the school, until one of Paddy’s Pilipino cleaning ladies had stolen it…… a large full colour print with lots of facial details……it was a definitive guide to the woman’s skin tone, her blemishes and how this woman liked to wear her makeup at work
Zoya made a comparison with the nightclub photo…….her dark kohl lined eyes…..the whiter face foundation……slashed eyebrows……..blood red lips…..the long dark hair…….more of a vamp in this one…….a little kinky, like she was role playing………
The official portrait was more traditional…….her makeup less harsh………..this one was preaching respectability……
It appeared that Ms Miranda Stephenson had two lives………two different personalities……
Zoya paused……she retrieved a cigarette from a nearby pack on the table……….after lighting up and taking a deep pull she sat back…….her naked breasts quivering………..she blew out a lungful of smoke……she watched gray smoke glide before her face……..
Early next morning she would pay a visit to Ms Miranda Stephenson………Zoya would encourage her to take a day off……..but not her name, her looks or her clothes……..they would be going back to prison as per normal.
Zoya selected another photograph……this one showed the woman laughing…..all smiles and teeth, lipstick smeared lips, a dark lipstick, a deep wine red..….kohl around her eyes…..a laughing woman with her hair worn down, free and long……..her fine hair cascading over her shoulders, a sweeping fringe…….she was wearing a long black dress of what looked like shimmering satin and nylon that was slightly sheer…….. a seamless and plain slip just visible underneath, a plunging neckline advertising a deep cleavage……..the dress had a split on one thigh…..providing a great view of a well shaped black stockinged thigh…..her knee….her lower legs……the tights underneath the dress were obviously sheer to waist………heeled black ankle strapped shoes……open toed…….the tights covering her feet were seamless…….one could discern her painted toenails underneath the nylons……..she wore flashy jewellery, probably not the real thing, but they all looked good as they glistened in the artificial light……..
The woman had a man in each arm…..by the look on the faces of all three a lot of alcohol had been consumed at that stage of the night…….the embrace of the two men looked more than that needed for a simple keepsake photograph…….the posture looked a little too intimate for that………..
The photograph had been taken at a nightclub…….
The establishment being well known as the haunt of swingers…..people who liked to go both ways…….sometimes with men…….on other occasions there were women only………or just as a group
Zoya then selected another interesting photograph………
This being the school authorized official portrait of Miranda Stephenson……the photograph had hung on a wall at the school, until one of Paddy’s Pilipino cleaning ladies had stolen it…… a large full colour print with lots of facial details……it was a definitive guide to the woman’s skin tone, her blemishes and how this woman liked to wear her makeup at work
Zoya made a comparison with the nightclub photo…….her dark kohl lined eyes…..the whiter face foundation……slashed eyebrows……..blood red lips…..the long dark hair…….more of a vamp in this one…….a little kinky, like she was role playing………
The official portrait was more traditional…….her makeup less harsh………..this one was preaching respectability……
It appeared that Ms Miranda Stephenson had two lives………two different personalities……
Zoya paused……she retrieved a cigarette from a nearby pack on the table……….after lighting up and taking a deep pull she sat back…….her naked breasts quivering………..she blew out a lungful of smoke……she watched gray smoke glide before her face……..
Early next morning she would pay a visit to Ms Miranda Stephenson………Zoya would encourage her to take a day off……..but not her name, her looks or her clothes……..they would be going back to prison as per normal.
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hahaderen
- Posts: 26
- Joined: Sat Mar 09, 2024 5:58 pm
Re: A RIDDLE WRAPPED IN A MYSTERY INSIDE AN ENIGMA
Well written, looking forward to the next chapter
-
jaegerhunde01
- Posts: 426
- Joined: Fri Dec 08, 2023 3:22 pm
Re: A RIDDLE WRAPPED IN A MYSTERY INSIDE AN ENIGMA
THE FLAT
Zoya had experienced no issues so far in driving to the location of the woman’s residential building……
She had encountered no bored Police patrols……in fact she had not seen anyone at all representing authority…….no fire or ambulance units either……hurtling around the districts…….it looked like it had been a quiet night……..
She had parked the Ford Escort around the corner on the deserted darkened streets…….away from the location of the flat
No one was on the streets…….she had passed only the early morning delivery trucks going about their usual trade and business…….
The odd cat shot out from the shadows……..there was a screech of an urban fox, no doubt going through discarded rubbish within iron bins……
Nearly all the homes in the area showed no lights……all should be asleep…….they should be at this hour…….
Zoya was dressed in tight black sports leggings, spandex……a Sloggi brand sports bra….. a running top with a hood which was also black with dark blue trainers on her feet
More clothes that had once belonged to Charlotte Carrington………
She carried a sports bag marked Admiral……this from the Chinese laundry that was located below the Safe Room…….
Inside the bag were a few tools of the trade……a silenced 22 calibre pistol, a roll of brown cotton plaster tape, a self sealing plastic bag which contained a wet pad, a few loose dry cotton pads and a black ladies stocking……she had to buy a pair from an Indian run corner shop yesterday……..
Shame really as Claire Carrington had owned quite a lot..……she was quite the collector that woman…….
It was 5am in the morning
Zoya had entered the building via the residential buildings rear parking area………
The lock took one minute to breach……
She did not use the lift…….she did not want the ensuing noise that would result in calling the lift car…..
She softly opened doors……and silently skipped up the central staircase………
She wanted the third floor……
Finally she entered a carpeted corridor …….painted off white……….lit only by a night light
She walked silently along the corridor…….holding the sports bag…….looking for a numbered door…….there was no sounds of people being awake from inside the flats…….
She stopped outside a brown painted door……there was an electric bell attached to the wall……..
Flat Three proclaimed a small plastic square……black on white…….
She listened…..placed her ear on the wood…….
She heard nothing from inside……there was no evidence of a radio playing or a TV switched on……..
She retrieved her little kit……..
The door lock was picked easily enough…..the chain removed and then replaced within its hook
Inside the flat there was no sign of any artificial light…….she entered quickly, silently……..and swiftly closed the door behind herself…….hardly any click as the door closed
She had entered like a wisp……….so fast, so still…….
Her eyes adjusted to the dark, the flat was not pitch black, ambient light filtered in from outside……...the hall was shadowy, but she could make out the general layout……framed pictures on walls…….darkened rooms left and right………a coat rack on a wall, complete with garments………ladies shoulder bags hanging from straps……..…a side cabinet………….with what looked like footwear nestled underneath…….
At the end of the hallway she detected a low sound……human noise…….there where people in the room at the end of the hallway……
A door was open…..but not fully………
Her hand slipped into the open sports bag…….after finding the item she wanted she placed the bag on the thin flower patterned carpeted flooring……
She slipped her hands into the delicate article of female clothing and stretched it wide……..
Zoya pulled the tight nylon stocking over her head……her face eventually all layered in black nylon, her features distorted….…especially her nose………her nostrils now flared………her general facial description now vague………sinister………..and impossible to be accurately reported……..
She picked up the holdall again…….
She crept closer…….moving catlike down the corridor………eyes now fully adjusted to the gloom….…..it was when approaching closer that she began to detect moans and energetic sighs regularly resonating from within what must be the master bedroom……….
Zoya saw to her left a laundry room……..she temporally deposited the holdall…….
She then glided along the opposite wall…..…using her hands as a counterbalance…….she crouched low in an aggressive stance…….her black clad and hooded body crouched low………..she crept closer to the darkened bedroom…….ready to attack if need be……….
She would not fail in her objective………
She did not need a weapon at this stage…….her highly trained limbs were sufficient enough……..
The door was slightly ajar……she had a limited view inside……..she spied a dressing table, a large vanity mirror on top……..
Zoya angled her lithe body to the opposite wall………she could still hear heated moaning……....from the opposite wall looking into the mirror she could now see the bed inside at the other end of the bedroom
Zoya was hardly surprised at what she could see and what was occurring on that large bed……
Her natural taste for voyeurism kicked in………
The room was in dark shadow……..but the ambient light from the street outside managed to provide enough to see what was going on……….
She saw the white outline of a male body...…..he looked strong, muscled……..fit looking……..his loins thrusting vigorously back and fore………..
She noted now that the bed was creaking and cracking in the same rhythm…….
His back was arched on his muscled arms with their curved biceps as he supported his full weight….……muscled athletic male buttocks pumping away.…...
He had limbs wrapped around his lower back…………shaved white legs
Straddling his lower back, were obviously female legs……….clamped around him……..thick female thighs……….all moving to the same rhythm as the pumping male posterior
Zoya occasionally saw between the locked body’s well sized female tits……both breasts bouncing around as they both gyrated in the act of coupling……
The woman was sitting up slightly……her back against the head rail……...supported by pillows…….
Zoya noted that the woman’s arms were above her head……shaved armpits too………her arms moving in motion with the rest of her naked body……….
There was something dark, maybe red or brown around her hands…….
What was it she thought…….
Ah……then she knew……….
She saw the woman’s wrists tied above her head………maybe with a red scarf……….the cloth not that tight around her hands, Zoya could see that much……..
The woman was also gripping the metal frame of the bed above her head, getting traction with her hips as she fucked…………
The woman’s hands flexing………..sometimes her fingers going very straight…….as if she was being shocked by electric………
The woman’s long dark hair looked ruffled and messed; damp like her face……….her dark hair looked as if it had been heavily sifted through by eager strong hands……
Both the male and female screwing each other on the bed looked hot and sweaty…………..
There was something wrong with the females’ face……….where was her mouth……..her jaw, or jowl……..
Her mouth should be open………gasping………her mouth should be forming those unique sensual animations……..the vibrancy and sensation of one being in a state of ecstasy……
In the gloom, and looking via a mirror Zoya saw an outline of a white covering on the woman’s lower face……….
My...My….she thought………straight away she recognised the fabric for what it was…………
The woman appeared gagged……..another scarf maybe, silk or shiny satin…….this time white…………
Zoya saw that it was completely over the mouth……..a detective style……….not that tight either…….the gag was only a prop……..
Zoya realized straight away that it was a game……….both were only playing a sex game………some kind of fantasy role play………..
So……..Ms Miranda Stephenson………the outwardly respectable, conservative, correct and proper school teacher enjoyed bondage games……
That was not in Paddy’s file……..
She looked nothing like the elegantly dressed and law abiding woman she had encountered the day before……
She obviously enjoyed to be fucked whilst pretending to be bound and gagged…….
Interesting thought Zoya…..
Plus, also, which was in the file…… she also seemed to enjoy group sex with more than one man……….
What more was hidden thought Zoya……..she wondered if Stephenson liked girls……..
Zoya wouldn’t have objected…….at a different time in different place………maybe
Right now though……..Zoya was only interested in having her name……….and her clothes
Zoya had experienced no issues so far in driving to the location of the woman’s residential building……
She had encountered no bored Police patrols……in fact she had not seen anyone at all representing authority…….no fire or ambulance units either……hurtling around the districts…….it looked like it had been a quiet night……..
She had parked the Ford Escort around the corner on the deserted darkened streets…….away from the location of the flat
No one was on the streets…….she had passed only the early morning delivery trucks going about their usual trade and business…….
The odd cat shot out from the shadows……..there was a screech of an urban fox, no doubt going through discarded rubbish within iron bins……
Nearly all the homes in the area showed no lights……all should be asleep…….they should be at this hour…….
Zoya was dressed in tight black sports leggings, spandex……a Sloggi brand sports bra….. a running top with a hood which was also black with dark blue trainers on her feet
More clothes that had once belonged to Charlotte Carrington………
She carried a sports bag marked Admiral……this from the Chinese laundry that was located below the Safe Room…….
Inside the bag were a few tools of the trade……a silenced 22 calibre pistol, a roll of brown cotton plaster tape, a self sealing plastic bag which contained a wet pad, a few loose dry cotton pads and a black ladies stocking……she had to buy a pair from an Indian run corner shop yesterday……..
Shame really as Claire Carrington had owned quite a lot..……she was quite the collector that woman…….
It was 5am in the morning
Zoya had entered the building via the residential buildings rear parking area………
The lock took one minute to breach……
She did not use the lift…….she did not want the ensuing noise that would result in calling the lift car…..
She softly opened doors……and silently skipped up the central staircase………
She wanted the third floor……
Finally she entered a carpeted corridor …….painted off white……….lit only by a night light
She walked silently along the corridor…….holding the sports bag…….looking for a numbered door…….there was no sounds of people being awake from inside the flats…….
She stopped outside a brown painted door……there was an electric bell attached to the wall……..
Flat Three proclaimed a small plastic square……black on white…….
She listened…..placed her ear on the wood…….
She heard nothing from inside……there was no evidence of a radio playing or a TV switched on……..
She retrieved her little kit……..
The door lock was picked easily enough…..the chain removed and then replaced within its hook
Inside the flat there was no sign of any artificial light…….she entered quickly, silently……..and swiftly closed the door behind herself…….hardly any click as the door closed
She had entered like a wisp……….so fast, so still…….
Her eyes adjusted to the dark, the flat was not pitch black, ambient light filtered in from outside……...the hall was shadowy, but she could make out the general layout……framed pictures on walls…….darkened rooms left and right………a coat rack on a wall, complete with garments………ladies shoulder bags hanging from straps……..…a side cabinet………….with what looked like footwear nestled underneath…….
At the end of the hallway she detected a low sound……human noise…….there where people in the room at the end of the hallway……
A door was open…..but not fully………
Her hand slipped into the open sports bag…….after finding the item she wanted she placed the bag on the thin flower patterned carpeted flooring……
She slipped her hands into the delicate article of female clothing and stretched it wide……..
Zoya pulled the tight nylon stocking over her head……her face eventually all layered in black nylon, her features distorted….…especially her nose………her nostrils now flared………her general facial description now vague………sinister………..and impossible to be accurately reported……..
She picked up the holdall again…….
She crept closer…….moving catlike down the corridor………eyes now fully adjusted to the gloom….…..it was when approaching closer that she began to detect moans and energetic sighs regularly resonating from within what must be the master bedroom……….
Zoya saw to her left a laundry room……..she temporally deposited the holdall…….
She then glided along the opposite wall…..…using her hands as a counterbalance…….she crouched low in an aggressive stance…….her black clad and hooded body crouched low………..she crept closer to the darkened bedroom…….ready to attack if need be……….
She would not fail in her objective………
She did not need a weapon at this stage…….her highly trained limbs were sufficient enough……..
The door was slightly ajar……she had a limited view inside……..she spied a dressing table, a large vanity mirror on top……..
Zoya angled her lithe body to the opposite wall………she could still hear heated moaning……....from the opposite wall looking into the mirror she could now see the bed inside at the other end of the bedroom
Zoya was hardly surprised at what she could see and what was occurring on that large bed……
Her natural taste for voyeurism kicked in………
The room was in dark shadow……..but the ambient light from the street outside managed to provide enough to see what was going on……….
She saw the white outline of a male body...…..he looked strong, muscled……..fit looking……..his loins thrusting vigorously back and fore………..
She noted now that the bed was creaking and cracking in the same rhythm…….
His back was arched on his muscled arms with their curved biceps as he supported his full weight….……muscled athletic male buttocks pumping away.…...
He had limbs wrapped around his lower back…………shaved white legs
Straddling his lower back, were obviously female legs……….clamped around him……..thick female thighs……….all moving to the same rhythm as the pumping male posterior
Zoya occasionally saw between the locked body’s well sized female tits……both breasts bouncing around as they both gyrated in the act of coupling……
The woman was sitting up slightly……her back against the head rail……...supported by pillows…….
Zoya noted that the woman’s arms were above her head……shaved armpits too………her arms moving in motion with the rest of her naked body……….
There was something dark, maybe red or brown around her hands…….
What was it she thought…….
Ah……then she knew……….
She saw the woman’s wrists tied above her head………maybe with a red scarf……….the cloth not that tight around her hands, Zoya could see that much……..
The woman was also gripping the metal frame of the bed above her head, getting traction with her hips as she fucked…………
The woman’s hands flexing………..sometimes her fingers going very straight…….as if she was being shocked by electric………
The woman’s long dark hair looked ruffled and messed; damp like her face……….her dark hair looked as if it had been heavily sifted through by eager strong hands……
Both the male and female screwing each other on the bed looked hot and sweaty…………..
There was something wrong with the females’ face……….where was her mouth……..her jaw, or jowl……..
Her mouth should be open………gasping………her mouth should be forming those unique sensual animations……..the vibrancy and sensation of one being in a state of ecstasy……
In the gloom, and looking via a mirror Zoya saw an outline of a white covering on the woman’s lower face……….
My...My….she thought………straight away she recognised the fabric for what it was…………
The woman appeared gagged……..another scarf maybe, silk or shiny satin…….this time white…………
Zoya saw that it was completely over the mouth……..a detective style……….not that tight either…….the gag was only a prop……..
Zoya realized straight away that it was a game……….both were only playing a sex game………some kind of fantasy role play………..
So……..Ms Miranda Stephenson………the outwardly respectable, conservative, correct and proper school teacher enjoyed bondage games……
That was not in Paddy’s file……..
She looked nothing like the elegantly dressed and law abiding woman she had encountered the day before……
She obviously enjoyed to be fucked whilst pretending to be bound and gagged…….
Interesting thought Zoya…..
Plus, also, which was in the file…… she also seemed to enjoy group sex with more than one man……….
What more was hidden thought Zoya……..she wondered if Stephenson liked girls……..
Zoya wouldn’t have objected…….at a different time in different place………maybe
Right now though……..Zoya was only interested in having her name……….and her clothes
-
jaegerhunde01
- Posts: 426
- Joined: Fri Dec 08, 2023 3:22 pm
Re: A RIDDLE WRAPPED IN A MYSTERY INSIDE AN ENIGMA
The woman was moaning through the mock gag whilst she was being energetically fucked hard……..
It was all a pantomime……….a mock binding session……
Zoya saw the woman’s generously sized white tits…….just her size if the file was correct…….they were wobbling and bouncing with the pumping rhythm, up and down………….
Her nipples extra dark in the gloom………..but no doubt now pert and erect………...her breasts red from being squeezed and kneaded hard by large manly hands………
Miranda’s groin and thighs began to grind faster…….she became more frenzied…….her moans more pronounced and urgent……..….
The bed creaked harder…………the noise of strain becoming louder……..
Zoya was sure that they were both about to finish this…………
The man was gasping and grunting, and in what looked like he had suddenly remembered to say something……loudly blathered…….
‘Shut up……...you like it Bitch’
It was not very convincing………like the statement had been badly scripted……..
But on hearing those words Stephenson worked her groin faster……….the words seemed to have excited her even more…………..her moan s were now higher in pitch………
Zoya picked upon what the man had said…..and how he had said it………
It was a Welsh accent…..
Zoya knew who the man was…….he was in the file……….…he must be one Trevor Hughes
He was one of the Physical Training instructors at the school…..
A married man with a small child……..
So thought Zoya……..Stephenson also liked fucking married men…….
Another entry she thought………
She was rather a sport thought Zoya……….in a way a girl after her own heart
A bit of a moral vacuum……….hiding under a thin layer of respectability…….
Zoya was really going to enjoy doing what she intended to do with her………….
Trevor Hughes pumped the semi gagged Teacher harder……..and harder again……..
Stephenson’s groin was now pumping in unison……….her eyes were glazed………..her face flush
Zoya could tell that they were now both close to discharge ……….
The bed was now making too much noise……....the frame started to bang as they both pumped each other senseless…….
Seconds from mutual climax……….
The bedroom wall, near the lover’s headboard, matched that in the corresponding flat next door…….
But no rampant illicit sex was going on there…………
Gladys Price was close to seventy………an old woman tucked up in bed…….a typical English stereotypical pensioner complete with the wavy perm under the traditional hairnet………..
Next to her was Alf…….her husband of over fifty years…….even older and loudly snoring and sucking his gums……
She was wide awake again………
Something loud had woke her up……she was a light sleeper anyway………
She eventually recognized the rhythmic thumping noise from next door.……was that a creaking sound, and a thump……thump…….hump……….it was quite loud, at night sound travels………..the annoying sound piqued something in her distant memory………from when she was younger………much younger……..what was it………
Her eyes went wide……she finally remembered what it was………
After remembering what the thumping implied she said
‘Dirty Cow’……....and rolled over plumping her cushion……….hoping to get some sleep before dawn…….
Some people had no respect for others……….
Stephenson’s intimate gyrations were reaching a frenzy……...her body felt as if an electric current was flowing through her…….
Her muffled moans pleading in an increased tempo……..
She felt her mouth lightly enveloped ……….silk wrapped around her wrists……..
She was not really tied up…….but the illusion titivated her……….excited her……….
She got off on pretending to be stripped, robbed and eventually violated………..and old Trevor here went along with it……..
She could feel the hard cock inside her…… thrusting back and for……deep inside her……always deeper as he thrust harder…….and harder
She liked sex when it was rough…….animalistic……...almost like rutting…….the opposite of making love
At times she liked doing it in the illusion of being bound and helpless…….
An intruder had broken in, tied her up and was having his way…….
A complete contrast to the persona that she projected to the outside world……….
She was a fine looking woman with a good body………trouble was she knew it……..
Outwardly she was the domineering one…..always in control……..overly confident and generally rude to others….…..she was not much liked by others, especially other women
This little sex game with a married man was her other side………her secret side
A fantasy that really turned her on at times of passion…….
And was she turned on……..
They were now fully coupled……...her groin locked into his………...sometimes grinding into his with an intense passion……….her eyes rolling inside their sockets……..
For now at least, the hooded and brooding figure did not attack……………
She was enjoying the show as the voyeur she had always been……..
Zoya just intensely watched the couple fucking each other’s brains out……
The features of her face being tightly veiled by the taut nylon black stocking now over her head……..with her squashed facial features…...
She was lurking in the darkness……..dressed in black……..hooded……..looking very sinister and malicious indeed…….
The couple were totally ignorant of being inappropriately observed in what they thought was an intimate and personal experience………….Zoya was enjoying the free show
She had no intention of interrupting now……...unless she was seen
She herself when the opportunity arose enjoyed a really satisfying early morning fuck……Roger Carrington being proof of that………
Zoya……gave a sharp intake of breath when suddenly…….
Something dramatic happened in both their bodily behaviour……
She watched the woman’s body go stiff in mid thrust….….she had stopped moving……..and at the same time produce a muffled wail type moan….…a lot louder than if she had been gagged for real…….the woman’s eyes had rolled white……..her eyelids fluttering…….
Her face looking up at the white ceiling as she came to orgasm……..her tongue visible and wet inside the false gag……..licking and probing against the white satin…….
The man…..his body equally rigid and frozen in mid thrust just grunted…….then collapsed onto his partner…….he was spent……….empty…….
The bedroom had become suddenly silent………the bed creaking and banging had ceased
Zoya could now hear heavy breathing………...the woman’s right leg was now just slightly elevated and was sliding provocatively down the side of his muscular thigh and leg…….…both her legs had been removed from being locked around his lower back…….
He reached up, his face still buried between her large breasts……..and pulled the red silk still lightly wrapped around her wrists…….it fell away easily enough
Her arms and hands came down from above her head……..her chest still briskly rising up and down……….she was out of breath….……..
She reached around her mouth and pulled away the white satin…….the bogus gag just dropped away……..the knot on the back of her head being that loose……
‘Get off me’ she gasped ‘Your too heavy’
He grunted and shifted his weight……..
They both rearranged their positions on the bed……..
Then…….
They both began to kiss each other……… intense and deep kisses too……tongues searching deep inside their wet mouths……..
Zoya could hear the sounds they both made as they both deeply kissed each other……a slight slurping sound and moist….…their hands gently sliding over their respective sultry, sticky and sweaty bodies……..
The sex was coming to a delightful end……….
Zoya in the shadows…….dressed in black, her face hooded now backed up…….
She slowly retreated into another darkened room and eased herself behind the door…….
It was a spare bedroom that contained an ironing board and laundry…..Zoya caught a glimpse of ladies undies in there……..all types of female clothing just lying around or hanging up……
Zoya listened intently from behind the door…..….would she need to subdue them both ……right now……. as they lay spent and exhausted……..it would be an opportune time to do so……..surprise would be
It was all a pantomime……….a mock binding session……
Zoya saw the woman’s generously sized white tits…….just her size if the file was correct…….they were wobbling and bouncing with the pumping rhythm, up and down………….
Her nipples extra dark in the gloom………..but no doubt now pert and erect………...her breasts red from being squeezed and kneaded hard by large manly hands………
Miranda’s groin and thighs began to grind faster…….she became more frenzied…….her moans more pronounced and urgent……..….
The bed creaked harder…………the noise of strain becoming louder……..
Zoya was sure that they were both about to finish this…………
The man was gasping and grunting, and in what looked like he had suddenly remembered to say something……loudly blathered…….
‘Shut up……...you like it Bitch’
It was not very convincing………like the statement had been badly scripted……..
But on hearing those words Stephenson worked her groin faster……….the words seemed to have excited her even more…………..her moan s were now higher in pitch………
Zoya picked upon what the man had said…..and how he had said it………
It was a Welsh accent…..
Zoya knew who the man was…….he was in the file……….…he must be one Trevor Hughes
He was one of the Physical Training instructors at the school…..
A married man with a small child……..
So thought Zoya……..Stephenson also liked fucking married men…….
Another entry she thought………
She was rather a sport thought Zoya……….in a way a girl after her own heart
A bit of a moral vacuum……….hiding under a thin layer of respectability…….
Zoya was really going to enjoy doing what she intended to do with her………….
Trevor Hughes pumped the semi gagged Teacher harder……..and harder again……..
Stephenson’s groin was now pumping in unison……….her eyes were glazed………..her face flush
Zoya could tell that they were now both close to discharge ……….
The bed was now making too much noise……....the frame started to bang as they both pumped each other senseless…….
Seconds from mutual climax……….
The bedroom wall, near the lover’s headboard, matched that in the corresponding flat next door…….
But no rampant illicit sex was going on there…………
Gladys Price was close to seventy………an old woman tucked up in bed…….a typical English stereotypical pensioner complete with the wavy perm under the traditional hairnet………..
Next to her was Alf…….her husband of over fifty years…….even older and loudly snoring and sucking his gums……
She was wide awake again………
Something loud had woke her up……she was a light sleeper anyway………
She eventually recognized the rhythmic thumping noise from next door.……was that a creaking sound, and a thump……thump…….hump……….it was quite loud, at night sound travels………..the annoying sound piqued something in her distant memory………from when she was younger………much younger……..what was it………
Her eyes went wide……she finally remembered what it was………
After remembering what the thumping implied she said
‘Dirty Cow’……....and rolled over plumping her cushion……….hoping to get some sleep before dawn…….
Some people had no respect for others……….
Stephenson’s intimate gyrations were reaching a frenzy……...her body felt as if an electric current was flowing through her…….
Her muffled moans pleading in an increased tempo……..
She felt her mouth lightly enveloped ……….silk wrapped around her wrists……..
She was not really tied up…….but the illusion titivated her……….excited her……….
She got off on pretending to be stripped, robbed and eventually violated………..and old Trevor here went along with it……..
She could feel the hard cock inside her…… thrusting back and for……deep inside her……always deeper as he thrust harder…….and harder
She liked sex when it was rough…….animalistic……...almost like rutting…….the opposite of making love
At times she liked doing it in the illusion of being bound and helpless…….
An intruder had broken in, tied her up and was having his way…….
A complete contrast to the persona that she projected to the outside world……….
She was a fine looking woman with a good body………trouble was she knew it……..
Outwardly she was the domineering one…..always in control……..overly confident and generally rude to others….…..she was not much liked by others, especially other women
This little sex game with a married man was her other side………her secret side
A fantasy that really turned her on at times of passion…….
And was she turned on……..
They were now fully coupled……...her groin locked into his………...sometimes grinding into his with an intense passion……….her eyes rolling inside their sockets……..
For now at least, the hooded and brooding figure did not attack……………
She was enjoying the show as the voyeur she had always been……..
Zoya just intensely watched the couple fucking each other’s brains out……
The features of her face being tightly veiled by the taut nylon black stocking now over her head……..with her squashed facial features…...
She was lurking in the darkness……..dressed in black……..hooded……..looking very sinister and malicious indeed…….
The couple were totally ignorant of being inappropriately observed in what they thought was an intimate and personal experience………….Zoya was enjoying the free show
She had no intention of interrupting now……...unless she was seen
She herself when the opportunity arose enjoyed a really satisfying early morning fuck……Roger Carrington being proof of that………
Zoya……gave a sharp intake of breath when suddenly…….
Something dramatic happened in both their bodily behaviour……
She watched the woman’s body go stiff in mid thrust….….she had stopped moving……..and at the same time produce a muffled wail type moan….…a lot louder than if she had been gagged for real…….the woman’s eyes had rolled white……..her eyelids fluttering…….
Her face looking up at the white ceiling as she came to orgasm……..her tongue visible and wet inside the false gag……..licking and probing against the white satin…….
The man…..his body equally rigid and frozen in mid thrust just grunted…….then collapsed onto his partner…….he was spent……….empty…….
The bedroom had become suddenly silent………the bed creaking and banging had ceased
Zoya could now hear heavy breathing………...the woman’s right leg was now just slightly elevated and was sliding provocatively down the side of his muscular thigh and leg…….…both her legs had been removed from being locked around his lower back…….
He reached up, his face still buried between her large breasts……..and pulled the red silk still lightly wrapped around her wrists…….it fell away easily enough
Her arms and hands came down from above her head……..her chest still briskly rising up and down……….she was out of breath….……..
She reached around her mouth and pulled away the white satin…….the bogus gag just dropped away……..the knot on the back of her head being that loose……
‘Get off me’ she gasped ‘Your too heavy’
He grunted and shifted his weight……..
They both rearranged their positions on the bed……..
Then…….
They both began to kiss each other……… intense and deep kisses too……tongues searching deep inside their wet mouths……..
Zoya could hear the sounds they both made as they both deeply kissed each other……a slight slurping sound and moist….…their hands gently sliding over their respective sultry, sticky and sweaty bodies……..
The sex was coming to a delightful end……….
Zoya in the shadows…….dressed in black, her face hooded now backed up…….
She slowly retreated into another darkened room and eased herself behind the door…….
It was a spare bedroom that contained an ironing board and laundry…..Zoya caught a glimpse of ladies undies in there……..all types of female clothing just lying around or hanging up……
Zoya listened intently from behind the door…..….would she need to subdue them both ……right now……. as they lay spent and exhausted……..it would be an opportune time to do so……..surprise would be