Wages of Sin

Chapter Three-1

Chapter Three

“More coffee?” Cicely asked.

“No, I don’t want any more coffee,” Tanya snapped at her. The past three weeks had been fruitless and frustrating for her, and her temper was badly frayed. None of her usual ploys were working and the supply of wealthy men looking for a mistress in the area seemed to have dried up. Maybe it was just a string of bad luck, but it had her worried. Every morning she inspected herself in minute detail in the mirror, first her face for any sign or hint of wrinkles, then her body for any trace of crepe or sag. Every morning, she passed that inspection. In fact, thanks to a diet and exercise regimen that had been suggested to her by an older woman she’d met recently, she thought that she’d never looked better. So why were no men rising to her bait? It was almost as if they were avoiding her, which was ridiculous.

“Sorry,” Cicely sniffed disdainfully. “I just thought I’d ask.”

“I have a lot on my mind,” Tanya grumbled. “I don’t need other people pestering me while I’m trying to think.”

“I’m sure,” Cicely nodded. “But really, love, it can’t be as desperate as you’re making it out to be. It’s not as if you’re penniless now, is it?”

Tanya gritted her teeth so that she wouldn’t explode with angry words. Lately, almost everything about Cicely was irritating, including her posh British accent. It didn’t help that Cicely was living with her without contributing anything. But Tanya also recognized that Cicely was right, and in any case she almost always leeched off of Tanya, contributing what she could when she could, when she felt like it. Lana was another matter. Lana had her own place. Lana always had her own place, thanks to a trust fund that coughed up generous checks to her every month, no matter where she lived. That was handy, because every so often Tanya needed a place to hide out for a day or two in order to punish or discipline a sugar daddy who was getting too possessive or too demanding. It was also handy to have someplace to send Cicely off to whenever said sugar daddy wanted to spend the night with Tanya.

“You could stay on here a bit longer, couldn’t you?” Cicely suggested.

“Yes, we could,” Tanya snapped at her. “But why the f**k should we?”

“You’re just having a dry spell, love,” Cicely smiled. “It’ll be over soon, I’m sure of it.”

“Maybe it will,” Tanya shook her head. “In the meantime, just make sure all your stuff is packed up and ready to go when the van arrives day after tomorrow.”

“Must we?” Cicely pleaded. “It would be very crowded at Lana’s with all three of us.”

“Yes, we must,” Tanya was adamant. “So stop whining. Or would you rather go find a place of your own?”

“That was uncalled for, love,” Cicely sighed. “You know that where you go, I go.”

One day, Tanya told herself, she’d have to find a way to get rid of Cicely. But not today. Cicely had some connections that were still useful, and spoke three languages besides her posh English.

***

The van was late. Tanya fretted, pacing around as the minutes and then the hours passed. Cicely took it much better. Everything she owned sat neatly packed in two large and one small bag near the door while she herself sat on the couch flipping through the local TV channels. The satellite service had been cut just yesterday, so there were no programs on that she could understand.

“Will you stop that?” Tanya asked Cicely at last. Cicely turned her head to look at her, shrugged, and switched off the TV. She said nothing.

“Where the f**k are they?” Tanya asked aloud. She hated waiting. She also hated people who did not show up when they were supposed to, and in another hour the real estate agent who handled the apartment would be coming over to assess the place and determine what needed to be done to ready it for the next occupant. She would just as soon not be here when that happened, even though both she and Cicely were as neat as cats and any work required would be minimal at the very worst.

Tanya felt as if she was ready to explode when there finally came a knock at the door. She flung the door open angrily, ready to berate whoever stood in the hallway. She checked herself when she saw that it was a man, tall and thickly muscled, bald with a great, drooping black handlebar mustache. He looked about forty.

“James?” he asked, looking from Tanya to the clipboard that he carried and then back up at Tanya.

“Yes, James.” Tanya nodded. The man’s accent when he spoke was so thick that it was clear that he wouldn’t understand anything she yelled at him except that she was angry about something.

“Ah, goot,” he smiled and nodded. “Rready?”

“Yes, rready,” Tanya nodded. She pointed at the small heap of bags and boxes. “It’s all there.”

The man looked at the pile and then back at Tanya. “Is all?” he asked. He seemed surprised. “Not that?” he pointed at the furniture.

“Is all,” Tanya replied, pointing at the bags and boxes. The man shrugged.

“Hokay,” he shrugged. “I get men.” He tucked the clipboard under his arm and started off towards the stairwell. Just as he got to the top of the stairs another man came pushing up past him. He was younger, not as tall and not as muscular and he wore the livery of the limousine service that Tanya had called. He looked flustered, and he doffed his cap as he approached.

“Miz James?” he asked as he drew near. “So sorry, I was told to follow the van here and they got lost on the way.” His English was much better than the van driver’s, and not as thickly accented.

“That’s just as well,” Tanya looked at him without smiling. “I couldn’t have left before they came anyway. As it is, you’ll just have to wait until everything is loaded.”

“I understand,” the man nodded.

There must have been some misunderstanding with the van company. They had sent a full-sized van with three burly movers, counting the man with the handlebar mustache, to pick up Tanya’s and Cicely’s possessions. It only took them one trip to pick up the bags and boxes and carry them all down to the van. Tanya followed them, Cicely followed her, and the limo driver brought up the rear.

“Driver,” Tanya said as the movers shut the door to the back of their truck and locked it, “I want you to follow the van to the new destination. I don’t want them to get ‘lost’ again.”

“Certainly,” the man nodded as he slid open the side door of the minivan for her and Cicely.

“Good,” Tanya said. “I don’t want anything else going wrong.” She took the near seat so that Cicely had to worm past her to get to her seat. Inwardly, Tanya was seething, but there was nothing she could do about this comedy of errors and incompetence right now. What she could do, once everything had been moved into Lana’s place, was stiff everybody on the tip, and she had every intention of doing so. As for the actual bill, Anton was going to handle it.

The limo driver slid shut the side door and hurried to get into the driver’s seat. The big van had already started up and was heading towards the highway. Tanya let herself relax a little. It would be a bit crowded at Lana’s place, but they should only be there for a little while. This dry spell, or whatever it was that she was suffering, could not last for much longer. There would be more parties, more opportunities, more wealthy men looking for a hot, young, blonde mistress. The more she thought about it, the more she came to believe that the three of them all wedged into Lana’s apartment could be turned to her advantage. Obviously, a man wanting some privacy with his newest and shiniest acquisition wouldn’t find it there; so it would be easier to pressure him into getting her some elegant little love nest. In the meantime she thought that she could put up with some crowding for a while. The only thing that would bother her would be sleeping in the same bed as Lana in the meantime. They were both straight, so nothing ever happened between them aside from the occasional awkward nighttime entanglements. The only alternative was to sleep on the couch, and she’d much rather let Cicely do that.

“Dammit!” Tanya yelled as she watched the van turn onto the highway. “They’re going the wrong way! They’re going the wrong way! Driver, catch up to them and make them stop!”

The driver merely halted the van on the entry ramp to the highway and turned to smile at her. Tanya had only a moment of anger and confusion before she felt something whip around her neck and tighten. She heard Cicely choking and gagging and realized that there was something around her companion’s neck too. The two women struggled wildly, unable to breathe, unable to pry loose the things choking them. They both kicked and tried to scream and clawed at whatever was around their necks, but none of it did them any good. The last thing Tanya saw before she passed out was the limo driver’s grinning face.

***

Tanya awoke feeling stiff and groggy. Her neck hurt. She was lying on some sort of thin pallet. All these realizations came slowly, and then came the horrifying recollection of where she had been and what had been happening to her before she had passed out. She sat up with a gasp, looking around for any clue as to where she was now. The first thing that she noticed was that it was very, very quiet. The second thing was that she seemed to be in a large room, well-lit and carpeted. It could have passed for an office somewhere, except that there was no furniture, no windows, and the walls looked like they were padded up to a height of six feet. The third thing that she noticed was the man sitting on the floor in the opposite corner from her. He was clad in loose-fitting black clothes and smiling at her. After a moment, she recognized him as the man who had given her the creeps back at that big party almost a month ago. She looked around to see if there were any more people there. There weren’t.

Slowly, Tanya got to her feet. She was still dressed as she had been when she’d left her apartment: Blouse, tight skirt and spike heels.

“If you’re thinking of raping me,” she said to the man, “You should have brought some help.” To her surprise, the man only laughed.

“Oh, no, no, no,” he said as he got to his feet. “Nothing so simple and straightforward as that.” He made no move towards her.

“What, then?” Tanya demanded. “Ransom? I’m afraid you’ll be disappointed.”

“Nothing like that, either, my dear Tanya,” he shook his head. He spoke very good English, with an accent that she could identify as very eastern European. Tanya had no ear for language like Cicely did. And where, now that she thought of it, was Cicely? Time to worry about that later, if ever. She stepped off of the pallet and immediately realized that the carpeting was soft enough and deep enough to hamper her movements as long as she was wearing those high spike heels.

“Then what?” Tanya spat. “I don’t like games.”

“This is the beginning of your education, girl,” the man said. He was still smiling, but it was the smile of a tiger with prey trapped under its paws, and there was no warmth in his voice. “You have so much to learn.” He began moving towards her, slowly, angling to her left. Tanya backed away slowly, trying to keep as much space between herself and him as she could. She noticed that he was wearing some kind of close-fitting slippers instead of shoes.

“Learn?” she spat at him. “I suppose you think you can teach me.”

“Oh yes,” he nodded. “I can. I can indeed. I have taught many women before you, my dear Tanya.”

“Taught them what?”

“Submission,” he answered. “Obedience. And eagerness to please.”

Okay, whoever he was he was clearly crazy. Tanya kept circling away from him as he kept circling towards her. She looked for a door and didn’t see one. It was probably hidden behind the padding on the walls. She had dealt with crazies before, and had learned some basic moves for self-defense. If she appeared to let her guard down a bit he might come close enough for her to land a good, crippling kick on him. It wouldn’t be easy on this carpeting, but she thought she could manage.

“You will be a challenging pupil,” he said. Now he was close enough for Tanya to see the expression in his eyes. It chilled her to the bone. He wasn’t just plain crazy, he was deeply, disturbingly crazy. He feinted a quick move to close with her. Out of instinct, Tanya tried a roundhouse kick at him.

It didn’t work. Between her skirt, which was more than a little too tight, and the treacherous footing of the carpet, and his surprising speed, Tanya not only missed, she lost her balance and fell. Immediately, he was on her, but he made no attempt to grapple her or pin her down. Instead, he struck her with stiffened fingers, rapidly, in three different places. Tanya shrieked at the sudden pain in her neck, in her arm, and in her leg. She scrabbled away from him, her injured arm not working very well at first, but he made no attempt to stay close to her. Instead, he waited until she was able to get to her feet again. She took the precaution of removing her heels before she did that. Her arm felt partly numb, as did her leg, but everything seemed to be working. She gripped a shoe in each hand. The spike heels could still be used as weapons.

“First, I think, you must learn despair,” the man said as he began circling towards her again. “It is quickest to teach you that through pain.”

He moved even more quickly than he had last time. Tanya’s efforts to strike him with her heels failed miserably as he blocked or parried each swing she made. Once more, he struck her in rapid succession with stiffened fingers, numbing her arms, hurting her ribs. He struck her once in her lower back, sending bolts of pain shooting through her body, and then struck her in the solar plexus. She grunted in pain and fell to the floor, writhing. Once more, he let her regain her breath and some feeling in her arms. She leaned against the padded wall as she struggled to her feet, badly scared now. She realized that he was much stronger than she was, much faster than she was, and utterly merciless.

“What the f**k do you want?” she wailed. “Are you going to kill me?”

“Only if you cannot learn,” he replied. He wasn’t even breathing hard, and he seemed to be enjoying himself. Tanya let her anger and rage grow as she glared at him. When he closed with her again, she clawed at his face. He brushed that desperate attack away as easily as he had all her others, slapped her hard enough to make her head spin, and once more struck her three times with stiffened fingers, in three new places that made the previous pain he had inflicted on her seem mild in comparison. Her shriek curdled to a dry croak as she fell to the floor yet again. She lay huddled, whimpering, until the pain had subsided as far as it seemed likely to. He stood nearby, just out of range of a kick.

“What do you want?” Tanya begged as she fought back tears. “Please, tell me what you want!”

“It is quite simple, my dear Tanya,” he smiled down at her. “For now, all I want is for you to take off all your clothes and hand them to me.”

“And then what?” Tanya couldn’t completely suppress a sniffle.

“And then you will be left in peace until it is time for your next lesson,” he told her.

“And if I don’t?” she asked, dreading the answer.

“Then this lesson will continue,” he replied. “I have been quite gentle with you so far. Do you wish this lesson to continue?” He moved closer.

“No! No!” Tanya held up a hand. She was trembling now. “I’ll take off my clothes! Just don’t hurt me anymore!”

“Very good,” he smiled mirthlessly. “Proceed. And please, do so while you are on the floor.”

Tanya fought back tears, but she couldn’t stop herself from whimpering as she undressed. It wasn’t easy to undress while she was sitting on the floor, and it was less easy because every move she made brought fresh twinges of pain. At his command, and in order, she handed her blouse, her skirt, her stockings, her bra and her panties up to him. Naked, she tried to huddle, hiding as much of her nudity as she could.

“You must hand me your shoes as well,” he said mildly. He pointed. “Crawl over there and get them.”

Tanya groaned, but she feared this man terribly now, so she obeyed. She knew that he was looking at her as she crawled away from him, but there was nothing she could do about it that wouldn’t bring more pain.

“No, no,” he shook his head as she picked up the first shoe. “Carry them over to me in your mouth.”

Tanya sobbed and moaned, but she obeyed. With the ankle straps of her shoes clenched in her teeth, she crawled over to her tormentor, wondering what he would do to her next and dreading whatever it might be. But all he did was take the shoes from her.

“You can rest for a while now,” he smiled down at her, “Since you have learned your first lesson so well. I will be back before long, and your lessons will continue.” Carrying her clothes and her shoes, he left by a door that was indeed hidden behind the padding. Tanya curled up on the pallet, feeling nothing but pain, misery and fear.