Message-ID: <25707asstr$965643005@assm.asstr-mirror.org> Delivered-To: fixup-ckought69@hotmail.com@fixme X-Original-Message-ID: <008b01c0002a$81748f20$5ee2a1d8@leviticus> From: "Leviticus" MIME-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: text/plain; charset="iso-8859-1" Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit X-Priority: 3 X-MSMail-Priority: Normal X-MimeOLE: Produced By Microsoft MimeOLE V5.50.4133.2400 Subject: {ASSM} To Catch Rhianna Part 17 (BDSM) Date: Mon, 7 Aug 2000 06:10:05 -0400 Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail Approved: Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d X-Archived-At: X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation X-Story-Submission: X-Moderator-ID: dennyw, english, gill-bates To Catch Rhianna Part 17 Bart and Matthew were back inside again, fetched by Stacy at Maria's command. Joseph's former slave wanted the men to hear what he had just told her. "Her name is Diane Brahms," Joseph began, "a relative newcomer to the New York area, but an influential one. She brought with her contacts in cities not just around the country, but around the world, and in essence created the organization I belong to, that protects the identities of high profile individuals who indulge in our lifestyle. "She's seen by many as the Grande Dame of our culture, and is held in such high regard that for all intents and purposes she's untouchable." "I've heard her name," Matthew said, a resident of the city for many years before his two-year jail term. Joseph nodded. "For the first few years, she ran the Organization, then she retired to pursue private projects. Not much has been heard of her lately, but then no one is surprised, she is quite old. But she does make the occasional appearance at prominent parties." Booth gestured around himself. "It was after I assumed control of all this from Cynthia that I began to find out what those private projects were. Apparently, she and Diane Brahms either worked together on mutual projects or had some of the same contacts. Either way, they corresponded, and Cynthia kept copies of all their letters. As I worked my way through Cynthia's private papers, I began to realize a truth that disturbed me greatly. Diane Brahms was not the person I thought she was; in many ways, she made my ex-wife look like a saint. "I began to make inquiries, a word here, a question there. I needed to confirm what Cynthia had recorded, and conformation I got. Diane Brahms is involved with illegal slavery, kidnapping, extortion, murder... The list goes on. "Needless to say, I was shocked. "The trouble was, there was nothing I could find that I could take to the police, so much of the information was tied up in some way with prominent people who were innocent of what was going on around them. I began to wonder if that was why she created the Organization, so that no one would dare prosecute her. Believe me, if she came down, half the Fortune 500 could fall with her. "But I knew something had to be done. "I had to expose her, but not to the police, she was too well protected for that. I needed to expose her to the Organization, and for that I needed concrete proof of her illegal activities. It wouldn't be enough to go to the council with anything less. Once the truth was exposed, then she would be...dealt with. Ironically, she herself set up her own punishment...if I succeed. "So, as a first step, I began to shift my own policies. I wanted to meet her, to become enough like her that she would allow me into her inner sanctum. She has a core group of people working for her, people within the Organization. They do all her dirty deeds. "I needed to be a part of all that so I could gather more evidence against her. But as time went by, I realized that I could never push past the outer layers, what I needed was someone who could burrow in from the other side, as a submissive rather than as a Master, yet survive what was most certainly a much tougher road." "Rhianna," Bart said. "Yes, Rhianna, or someone like her. In the end, I knew it would have to be Rhianna, I couldn't ask another submissive to do this job; someone like Stacy would get butchered for no reason at all because they wouldn't know how to both survive and be effective as I need them to be. Rhianna was the only person with the training I needed. But I wasn't close enough to Diane Brahms for me to get her interested in Rhianna yet, or so I thought. "Then I had a chance meeting in the Bahamas with a man the Organization had been watching for awhile. He was being considered for membership and protection, but no one had contacted him yet. So I took it upon myself to do so, and discovered that this man was just what I was looking for. "His name is Ben Lane, and he's a gold trader in London, a very successful man in his line of work. I knew that the amount of money he dealt with would appeal to Diane Brahms, so I told her all about him, and how having someone like him on her payroll could help her own finances tremendously. I figured that if I did her a favor, she'd be more willing to do one for me! "I thought she'd approach Lane and blackmail him somehow into giving her money; I had no idea that she'd kidnap his submissive and use her against him. When our contact in the Bahamas, a man named Philip Townsend, called me about the kidnapping, I was shocked!" "What?" Matthew said. "You mean you sacrificed someone else to your cause?" "It was not meant to happen!" replied Joseph. "But it did and there was not much I could do about it. But it did wonders for my credibility with Diane Brahms, and when she asked me if there was anything I wanted in return, I told her I wanted Rhianna Summer. "I was surprised when she said she knew of her already, but then Rhianna's reputation was spreading quickly. Apparently, Rhianna had become...a side project of Diane Brahms already, but she hadn't made any decisions about what to do about her yet. I understood that the presence of an investigator who could successfully insert herself into our world was not something Diane was comfortable with. I wasn't surprised. I think the idea of taking her and making her my slave appealed to her. "Between us, we put together this plan of having Rhianna take over the investigation of the kidnapping, and in turn be taken herself once she was out of the country. I told her that I knew Rhianna's boss, and would have no problem making the arrangements for Rhianna to be at a certain place at a certain time. "Rhianna was taken by Diane's people, and is now someplace here in the country, being trained." "So you don't know where she is?" asked Matthew. "I have an idea. I found references to a training farm in Nevada in Cynthia's papers. I don't have any evidence of her being there, but it's a good chance that she is." "So, it's all a set up, and Rhianna knows nothing about it," Matthew said in total amazement. He couldn't believe that a man as respectable as Joseph Booth would do something so insane. "It was important for her to react as she actually would under these circumstances. If Rhianna showed any sign of foreknowledge, it would have been dangerous for her," Joseph replied. "And you don't think it's dangerous now?" Joseph had no answer for that. "You're a fuck, you know that?" Bart said. "Worse than this woman you're trying to put away. You don't use up your friends like that!" "I HAD TO!" yelled Joseph suddenly. "Can't you see that this is bigger than her, bigger than all of us. This woman controls slave farms in a half dozen countries. There is one in the Bahamas itself. Ben Lane met a young woman there who had been brought up from childhood to be nothing but a sexual toy for these people. Unlike Stacy, who has a choice about how she wants to spend her life, this girl had no choice. It really would cost her her life not to be the slave they want her to be, and there are many more like her out there. Not to mention all the men, women, and children kidnapped for someone's pleasure, or killed because Diane wished it. "And it's not just the people she's harmed already; it's also the people she has yet to harm. What if the daughter of a friend of yours is taken and turned into someone's fuck toy because I didn't do anything to stop Diane Brahms when I had the chance? Could you live with that?" Bart stood up and went over to the bar. He sat on a stool, his back to the room. Stacy put a hand on his shoulder but she was ignored. Matthew sat, containing his anger. "So tell me, Joe. Now that you have Rhianna kidnapped and training to be a sex slave, what's the next step in your brilliant plan?" Joseph bowed his head. "Now is the hardest part. We wait. I get her back in a month and a half, and then we'll both testify before the council. Diane Brahms will be taken care of then." "Yeah," Matthew said, disgusted, "I bet she will. And what about Rhianna, in what condition will she be in after all this?" "She should be fine. I didn't ask for anything special in her training. I told them just the standard regime. I doubt it's anything she hasn't handled before. She HAS done undercover work before, you know," Joseph said with a knowing look at Matthew Anderson. "I know, and I don't think much of those tactics either," Matthew replied. "Why, because those tactics got you caught?" Matthew held tighter to his anger, but it was getting harder. "I don't like her undercover work because she goes in helpless. Hell, she becomes helpless in so many ways it scares me to death! But then, I doubt she has anything to be scared of this time, since you prepared her well!" Joseph gave Matthew a dirty look. "What about the girl?" Bart asked, not turning to look at anyone. "The girl?" Joseph said. "Ben Lane's submissive. What about her?" "Once we take Diane Brahms down, we should be able to take down all her projects, and hopefully we will recover the girl." Bart turned around then and got off the stool. He moved quickly for his size and reached Joseph in seconds, swinging a punch that connected with Joseph's jaw with surprising force. Stunned, Joseph held his face and stared up at the angry Bart Maxell. "You fuck! If any harm comes to either of those two women, I'll be back to make sure you suffer as much as they did!" Bart yelled. Then he stormed out of the room. Matthew got up slowly. "We'll wait out your plan, Joe, but be prepared to deal with both of us at the end of all this." "Matthew, there's no need..." "Shut up. You've said enough already!" Matthew left the room, following Bart out to the car. Maria stood up as well, and looked at Joseph, who still sat in his chair nursing his jaw. Shaking her head, she followed the men outside. It was several minutes before Joseph spoke again. "Stacy, I am doing the right thing aren't I?" "The right thing; yes, Sir. But the right way?" said Stacy sadly. ---***--- Ben Lane was in the Bahamas. Having spent a good deal of money, which he could afford, and time, which he didn't think he could, he had finally received the closing reports from the private security company he had hired to investigate Philip Townsend. What he got was a thin folder filled with not very much, certainly not what he was looking for. There was nothing in it to tell him either way whether the man could be trusted or not. Ben figured that he would have to rely on his gut. So after spending one last evening looking through the large collection of pictures he had been sent of his beloved Amy, he flew at private expense from the British Isles back to the Bahamas aboard a private plane. He had called ahead and arranged to meet with Townsend in a hotel in Nassau, where he planned on talking, bribing, or beating the truth out of the man. It was 4 am when he reached the hotel, the plane waiting at the airport for his immediate return, and he went straight to the suite where they had arranged to meet. He knocked on the door and a voice said, "Come!" It didn't occur to him until he opened the door that the voice wasn't Townsend's. Whom he saw surprised him. It was a man dressed all in black; black pants, boots, T-shirt, and a black leather jacket. The man was sitting in an armchair on the other side of the suite. "Close the door," Ben was ordered. "I'm sorry, I must have the wrong room," Ben said, backing up. "No, you don't," the man said, his voice calm and flat. Ben heard a noise behind him and he turned to see another man dressed like the first. This second man closed the door to the suite. Ben suddenly felt trapped, and his whole body tensed up. "Who are you?" he asked the first man. "I'm here to see Phil Townsend." The man looked at him with cold eyes, then he gestured toward another door. This door led to the suite's bedroom. Ben moved slowly toward it, but neither of the other men moved. Ben eventually made it to the bedroom door and opened it. He didn't need to go in, what he saw from the doorway was enough. Phil Townsend was indeed in the room; shirtless, he lay half collapsed against the bed, his arms thrown across the top as if reaching for purchase. His head lay to one side at an awkward angle, fully revealing the very deep cut into his neck and the enormous amount of blood that coated his body and the floor underneath him. It was very obvious that he was dead. And he wasn't alone. Tied down spread eagle to the bed was his wife, Alicia. She was naked, and it was obvious that she had been raped repeatedly, as her pubic region was bruised and coated in dry semen. She had been killed where she lay, her throat cut like her husband's, and her bled-out white skin contrasted strongly with the deep reddish brown of the drying blood around her. All this was coupled with a stink in the air of bowels released, combined with a metallic odor that went straight to Ben's stomach. He back-peddled away from the horrifying sight, tripping over a coffee table and falling on his back. His stomach was rebelling, and he rolled to throw up, only to find that one of the men was holding a plastic bag at the ready. Not caring, Ben vomited into the bag, until only dry heaves were left. He kept his eyes on the carpet as the man handed him a wet wipe to clean up with. The wipe went into the bag. The first man was still sitting in the chair; in his hand was a thin but lethal looking knife, which he toyed with as he spoke. "Forensics," he said, gesturing at the bag. "We don't want you leaving too much of yourself in this room, do we?" Ben looked at him and sat up, his mind still filled with the images from the bedroom. "Why...why them? Who are you?" The man with the knife took an envelope out of his pocket and threw it at Ben. Out of the envelope spilled pictures. In spite of his shock, Ben recognized the people in the pictures. He saw Desmond Kopachi and his wife, and most of the pictures had either her or him accompanied with lots of children. "The next time you ask a question you're not supposed to ask, or in any way attempt to locate your missing property," said the man, "we follow up this visit with Mr. and Mrs. Townsend with a visit to that lovely family. If that still doesn't convince you, then we are authorized to make a visit to your property, and from the pictures I've seen of her, we would have a very good time indeed." Ben's anger flared, and he was about to get up and charge the man when he saw that the other man was holding a gun on him. "Temper, temper," said the first man, who was getting up. "We won't have any more contact if you cooperate. Come, let us take you back to your airplane." Ben had questions he wanted to ask, had to ask, but instead he remained silent, numbed into submission by the brutality of these men, and the threats against Amy and the children in the pictures. He allowed the men to take him out of the hotel, and back to his plane. ---***--- "Mistress, Mr. Lane has been dealt with; I doubt he will give you any more trouble." Edward knelt before the old woman as she finished putting on her makeup. He had just received the latest report, and as was his custom, he related it to her immediately. His Mistress glanced down at him for just a second before returning her attention to her mirror. She knew that someone like Ben Lane didn't back off easily. He'd find another way. "What about Anderson? Where has he got to in his investigation?" she asked him, applying more blush to her wrinkled face. Edward squirmed. She looked down at him again, this time giving him her full attention. "What aren't you telling me?" Edward swallowed nervously. "Mr. Anderson was seen yesterday entering and leaving the estate of Joseph Booth, Mistress." Edward braced himself. While his Mistress wasn't one to shoot the messenger, she was liable to kick them. Instead, all she did was grunt and return to her makeup. "Mistress?" he asked her, puzzled. "Joseph Booth is not important right now. Anderson may or may not be able to get Booth's version of events out of him, but even if he does, he won't know the real truth. "How Booth ever expected me to believe he was one of us, I don't know, but his only use to me was in helping me get that agent of Vessor's out of circulation." "Does this mean that you have no intention of returning Rhianna Summer to him as his slave?" Edward asked. The old woman known to Joseph Booth as Diane Brahms gave Edward one of her special smiles. "My dear Edward, there are a number of people that I know who would enjoy having that woman helpless at their feet a lot more than Joseph Booth would. Right now, she is being prepped to MY orders, and after that, she will...go on tour!" End of Part 17. Catch up on all my stories at http://www.dajungle.com/stories/leviticus If you're having problems contacting me, try leviticusthebard@hotmail.com -- Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated. +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ | alt.sex.stories.moderated ----- send stories to: | | FAQ: Moderator: | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ |Archive: Hosted by Alt.Sex.Stories Text Repository | |, an entity supported entirely by donations. | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+