Message-ID: <25494asstr$964519807@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
Delivered-To: fixup-ckought69@hotmail.com@fixme
X-Original-Message-ID: <002301bff5fa$f70e4580$b6e2a1d8@leviticus>
From: "Leviticus" <leviticus1@uswest.net>
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 6  (BDSM)
Date: Tue, 25 Jul 2000 06:10:07 -0400
Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail
Approved: <assm@asstr-mirror.org>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d
X-Archived-At: <URL:http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/Year2000/25494>
X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation <story-ckought69@hotmail.com>
X-Story-Submission: <ckought69@hotmail.com>
X-Moderator-ID: gill-bates, dennyw

To Catch Rhianna  part 6





Ben Lane was not in London, England.  Not yet anyway.

While Rhianna Summer spent a hard hour trying to convince Laura Piper that
there really wasn't anything Don could have done to save Amy Nelson, Ben
Lane prepared to enter a nondescript office building on West 183rd street in
New York City.

Ben looked up at the building, his eyes clear, his demeanor in total
control.  He was not suffering the after effects of a drunk, because he
never actually GOT drunk.  No liquor had passed his lips in years and he
hadn't given in yet.

He had to admit it had been a close thing.  If he had heard definite news
about Amy's death, then he would have headed straight for a bar.  Amy was
his life, his reason for living, and to Ben it wasn't just an overused
saying, it was the truth.

He was happy in the knowledge that Amy was alive, but that happiness was
tempered with the realization that things could still change.

He might yet find himself in that bar.

He felt sorry about the trick he pulled on Laura, making her think that he
had gone off the deep end  (it was easy to do, he just sucked on a bottle of
Rum extract, horrible stuff but it smelled like the real thing).  He had his
reasons though...no, he had his instructions.

Shortly after leaving Don after he told him that Amy was alive, Ben received
a phone call.  It was that phone call that instructed Ben to "Lose" the
Pipers and how to do it, and it was that phone call that instructed him to
be in this city at this time visiting this address.  He obeyed the
instructions given to him, because the callers identified themselves as
Amy's kidnapper.

Yet, he couldn't abandon the Pipers entirely, not with them thinking he
hated them, which he no longer did.  After hearing Don's story, he knew
right away that his friend had done the only thing he could, which was keep
himself alive.

So to show them he meant to return and stay a part of their lives, he
thought of the chastity belt trick.

In a way, it amused him to think of the frustration Laura had to be going
through, but it was nothing compared to what might have happened to them if
Ben had refused to keep them out of things.  They were safer thinking he was
mad at them.

Ben took a deep breath and entered the building.

The lobby was richly appointed in a modern fashion, to each side was a
sculpture depicting a stylized version of a man and a woman in amorous
pursuits.  Across from the entrance was a large reception desk manned by a
large man in uniform.  There appeared to be no way to get to the elevators
beyond without being let through a gate controlled no doubt by the security
guard.

The guard stood up as Ben entered and looked at him critically.  Ben was
dressed in an expensive business suit and was miles away from his shaggy
island look.  THIS Ben Lane exuded money and power, and carried with him an
air of total control.  Ben knew that at this moment it was nothing but an
air, and when the security guard smiled, he saw the guard knew that too.

"Benjamin Lane," Ben said unnecessarily.

The guard pushed a button on his desk, and after a moment, two more beefy
guards came out of a concealed door.

Ben stood still and allowed the two men to frisk him, and then one of them
passed an electronic device of some sort all over his body while his partner
stood back a few feet.  Ben noticed the man was armed.  Ben carried nothing
with him except for the copy of that day's "USA Today," a newspaper he had
been asked to bring, so the scan went quickly.

Apparently satisfied that Ben wasn't wired with anything, the guard with the
gadget handed his device to the guard at the desk.  "Follow me, Sir," he
said.

Ben followed as they were buzzed through the gate, and was aware of the
armed guard following.  The threesome boarded an elevator and rode up only a
few floors before disembarking.

They were in another lobby, this one done up in marble and gold leaf.  There
was only one door.

Without hesitating, Ben stepped forward and walked to the door.  The guards
he had come up with took stations on either side of the elevator.  Ben
figured they'd be there when it came time for him to leave.

He pushed open the large door and stepped into a conference room.  Seated at
the large conference table were two men in suits almost as expensive as his,
and an old woman in a dress that looked like it cost more than all three
suits now in the room.  Ben thought that the woman might have been quite
striking earlier in her life, but her ability to draw men in with her looks
was long past.  Yet there was power there, Ben saw it in her eyes.  While
her body may have aged, her mind was certainly still young.

The woman had the place of honor at the head of the table, and Ben knew
instinctively that she was the one in charge.

"Sit down, Mr. Lane." said the woman in a strong voice.

Ben took a chair at the opposite end of the table.

Immediately one of the two men got up and walked over to him.  In front of
Ben were placed several photographs and Ben's heart gave a lurch.  In the
pictures was Amy.  She was naked, and her hands were held behind her
somehow, but it was definitely her.  In front of her was a copy of the "USA
Today," the same copy that Ben had with him.  Obviously, she was still
alive.

Ben swallowed, loosing his calm for a second.  He reached forward and picked
up the pictures.  Amy looked well, although Ben could see whip marks on her
thighs.  There was also a wide collar around her neck, and something he
couldn't make out hanging from her bare pussy.  She didn't look frightened
though, just tired and resigned.  Ben wondered what they were doing to her.

"You'll get pictures like that each day," said the woman, "as long as you
cooperate, that is."

"I want to talk to her," Ben said, looking up at his hostess.

"You get the photos, nothing more," was his reply.

Ben didn't like that, but figured he hadn't much choice in the matter.
"What do you want?"

The woman smiled, a cold smile.  She gestured to the man at Ben's side, who
left the room for a moment before returning with coffee.  He placed a cup at
Ben's elbow.  Ben ignored it.

The woman took a cup herself, and began to idly stir it with a spoon the man
also gave her.  Now her smile was one of amusement as she stared at Ben who
stared back at her.

"What Mr. Lane, no threats, no accusations?  No cries of 'you'll never get
away with this?'!"  She laughed.  "Really, Mr. Lane, you disappoint me."

Ben had considered yelling, he was angry enough, but instead decided on a
different ploy.  These people had Amy, and until he was in a position of
strength, he wasn't going to give them anything more than he had to.

He stayed silent.

The woman stirred her coffee for a moment while she and the two men with her
stared at Ben, then her amused smile fell away.

"Perhaps, Charles," she said to one of them, "we made a mistake with Mr.
Lane here.  Taking his girl from him evidently hasn't affected him in the
slightest.  He makes no demands, he asks nothing about her; I doubt he cares
anything for her at all.  You may as well send word for her to be put down!"

"I care!" Ben said loudly.

"Do you now?" the old woman asked him, staring at him under heavy eyelids,
"We'll see."

"What do you want?" Ben asked again, wishing he had the freedom ask her more
about Amy, but doubting he would get any answers.

"What is she worth to you, Mr. Lane?"

"Everything I have!" he replied honestly.

The old woman smiled that cold smile again.  "I'm sorry Mr. Lane, but that's
just not enough."

Ben took a deep breath, wondering what she meant by that.

"Really, Benjamin, may I call you Benjamin?  Do you think I'm stupid?  We
know that your personal wealth is actually rather small.  You keep an
average of a million American dollars split up in several different accounts
in several countries, with everything you earn beyond that amount
automatically diverted to various children's charities and hospitals
throughout the world.  Millions each year are thrown away by you!"

"I don't consider it throwing the money away," Ben said.

"No, you wouldn't, would you.  You aren't even concerned about the tax
values of what you do.  Other men in your position would have an army of
lawyers and accountants fighting for every tax break you could get for such
large donations, yet you don't take more than a basic deduction for all your
troubles."  The woman took a sip of her coffee and then resumed her
stirring.

"I'm not doing it for the tax breaks," Ben said.

The woman sighed.  "No matter.  The million you have is simply not enough,
and consolidating your company and selling its assets doesn't even come
close to what I have in mind, either."

"What DO you have in mind?" Ben asked, thinking he knew where she was going
already.

"Have you ever heard the phrase, don't kill the goose that lays the golden
eggs?"  She laughed.  "It is ironic.  You, Benjamin are the golden goose,
and it is indeed gold in which you deal.  I'm told you have a rare talent
for trading in this particular commodity, a talent that reaps millions of
dollars each year in pure profits, and that it is expected that you will
continue to do so for many, many years to come.

Well, Benjamin, we have no desire to stop you from working at what you do so
well, laying your golden eggs.  But we do have a say in where those eggs go
to."

The old woman put her coffee down and stood up.

"Mr. Lane, you have one month to stop your donations to all those useless
charities.  We will have a new account for you to send that money to.  Since
you are so intent on throwing that money away, you can throw it at us.  You
will be allowed to keep your own million, but no more; neither will you be
allowed to divert or reinvest in any other manner than you are right now.
Believe me, we will know if you change your business practices."

Ben sat for a moment before replying.  "And I get Amy back?"

"Goodness no, Benjamin.  Why would we want to do that?  No, no, Benjamin,
all you get from us is our promise that she will be kept alive, and a set of
photos each day so you can watch her progress."

"Will I get to see her, for real?" Ben asked hopefully.

The woman smiled.  "Maybe if you're good," she said slowly.

What else could Ben do, he felt trapped.

"Okay."

"You'll receive wiring instructions in a few days," he was told, and then
she left the room, taking her coffee with her.

The two men stayed behind and gestured for him to leave the way he came.

Shaken, and very worried, Ben was escorted out of the building and out on to
the street.  He had a flight to London to catch.



---***---



Inside a comfortable lounge, the old woman settled into a chair and smiled.
One of her flunkies joined her, kneeling on the floor at her side.  He was a
lot more comfortable on his knees; sitting in chairs was a part of his past
not a part of his present.  He had a devil of a time keeping still.

"That went well, didn't it, Charles?" asked the woman, gazing out the window
at the buildings across the street.

"Yes, Ma'am," Charles answered.

"Is that your honest answer?"

Charles was uncomfortable with the question, but he had served his Mistress
for several years now and was constantly by her side except for when she was
off on her special project.  At least THAT was now over.

"Ma'am, he really didn't have a choice, did he?"

"Of course he had a choice, Charles, men like that always have choices.  The
trick is to give them only the choices you want them to have!"

"What were his choices, Ma'am?"

"Realistically?  He could have just written off the girl and walked away,
I've seen it happen before.  It's very easy to walk away from a slave,
Charles.  There are so many more to pick from."

Charles recognized the friendly warning and smiled.

"What if he had walked away?  We would have lost!"

The old woman shook her head.  "Not really, we'd still have a slave to sell.
A little old, but even us old ladies can be useful," she chuckled.

Charles laughed too, until Edward, the other male slave came in bearing a
file which he handed to the old woman before dropping to his knees.  "The
latest on Rhianna Summer, Ma'am," he said.

Charles lost his good humor.  Rhianna had very recently become a pet project
of his Mistress at the request of a friend of hers.  She was the reason
Mistress left him alone for days on end.  He didn't like being separated.

The woman paged through the thin folder, taking her time as she read its
contents.  "She's certainly making progress, isn't she?"

"It won't be long before she finds Cricket and his operation," said Edward.

"Oh, I don't doubt that.  Miss Summer is a very capable young woman.  Still,
it doesn't matter.  Arrangements have already been made."  The old woman
handed the file back to her slave and resumed looking out the window.  "Such
a NICE girl, too!"



---***---



A couple of hours later, the "nice girl" was back on Townsend's island,
swimming in the warm Atlantic Ocean.

She was alone on the beach, and used the time to think about the Pipers and
her case.

It was getting more and more interesting.  She was convinced that the
'Kajira' had been boarded by two different groups.

The first time the boarders had only been concerned with getting back their
property, and marooned the men in order to buy them some escape time.  The
second group had other plans though, and Rhianna wondered if Laura would
have been taken as well.  Rhianna wasn't as sure about the second group as
she was the first, but one thing she knew was that somehow the two groups,
while differing in tactics and equipment, had to be connected.

Someone had to tell them where the 'Kajira' was!

Rhianna had her suspicions about that too.

The agent let herself float on her back, watching the darkening sky.  She
felt quite alone under the emerging stars, something she hadn't been in a
long time.  Usually surrounded by several million people it was a novel
experience for her.

She ran her hands down her body, and smiled at the sudden urge she had to
leave her swimsuit on the beach.  Earlier she swore she wouldn't undress on
this island again, but the emptiness of the beach and the secret enjoyment
she got from swimming naked overwhelmed her.

She began to think of Matthew Anderson and the community in which he now
lived.  An unusual place, filled with people who had turned their backs on
most of what industrial man had built, to create their own society.  What
impressed her most about those people though, was how they showed none of
the moral awkwardness that plagued the civilized world she knew.  These were
people that knew who they were and what their place was in life.  Not
arrogant, but nonjudgmental.

They weren't consumed about the trappings of life, and weren't ashamed to
show themselves as themselves.  Social nudity was quite accepted at the
compound, for what better way was there to show how everyone was equal?

Rhianna, much to her surprise, actually missed the place.  More so, she
missed HIM!

Why hadn't he contacted her?

Rhianna put Matthew out of her mind and swam to shore.  She toweled off and
put on her beach robe for the walk back to her room.

Tomorrow, she was supposed to interview the host of the party where the
Pipers met Kiri.  It was one of the few leads she had and the logical next
step.  Hopefully, then she would have something new to work on.

Entering her room, she was surprised to see a different naked male slave
chained to the ring in the floor.

Ignoring him, Rhianna changed into some thick pajamas in the bathroom, and
then climbed into bed.  She was asleep before she knew it.




End of Part 6

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: <ckought69@hotmail.com> |
| FAQ: <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/faq.html>  Moderator: <story-ckought69@hotmail.com> |
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+
|Archive: <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org> Hosted by Alt.Sex.Stories Text Repository |
|<http://www.asstr-mirror.org>, an entity supported entirely by donations.         |
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+