A Voice in the Night
Thursday 18th February
8 pm
W 48th Street, New York
“And that’s all this
week from me, Jeanne Beckman, and this Fashion Week special of the Beckman
Report. I’ll see you next week, but for
now, have a good night.”
Suzanne Reedman stood
up and stretched, picking up the remote control and turning off the television
before she went to her kitchen. She had
spent a long week supporting the team she worked for at Vogue, making sure the
blog entries for the shows were kept up to date.
It had been an amazing
week as well. Although her own national
tastes were middle of the road, she had enjoyed the contrast of the extremes –
at one end, the Kanye West show.
One particular comment
from a chat show host had stuck in her mind, purely because the timing has been
perfect. “The rumour that Ben Stiller
and Owen Wilson offered to walk for Kanye in character, but were turned down as
too conservative, was only partially true.
The truth was they were too talented.”
Then at the other end,
there had been the APCO and Kevin Wu shows.
Classic lines, comfortable look, and a range of models from the new
finds, like Katy Carter, Orion O’Ryan and Mary Clarke, to the true grand dames
of the fashion world, had brought the right sort of attention to both houses.
Opening the icebox,
Suzanne looked in and wondered what she was going to eat. Eventually, she settled for taking a bottle
of wine out and pouring herself a glass, sipping gently before she picked up a
Thai menu and looked at it.
As she walked into the
front room, she caught a look at herself in the mirror. Given this was a day off, she wasn’t in her
usual work clothes, but wearing a long blue t-shirt over a pair of grey
leggings, and an old pair of slippers.
“All right then,” she
said to herself as she looked down the menu, “what can I have tonight and what
can I order for another day...”
It was as she was
looking at the range of noodle dishes that she heard the noise in her
bedroom. “Now what on earth could that
be,” Suzanne said to herself as she put the menu and her glass down, and walked
into her bedroom. It was lit by the hall
light from outside, so that she could see her bed, the dressing table, and the
curtains as they blew softly into the room.
It took her a moment to
register that last fact, as she walked slowly into the room, wondering if she
had left the window open earlier. It was
only as she got close to the window that she sensed she was not alone in the
room.
“Who’s there,” Suzanne
whispered as she heard the movement behind her.
“Very slowly, turn
round, and raise your hands in the air.”
As Suzanne turned
round, she saw the figure in the shadows, light reflecting in an unusual way
from whatever she was wearing. That
wasn’t the important thing though – what was catching her attention was the
fact the lower half of her face was covered by something, allowing only the
clear blue eyes to be seen under the fringe of the shoulder length dark hair.
Two other things had
caught her eye – the fact it was a female voice, and the fact there was
something pointing at her that looked horrifyingly like a pistol.
As she raised her
hands, the figure reached over and turned the light on – allowing Suzanne the
chance to see the intruder for the first time.
She wasn’t much taller than Suzanne, but her actual height was difficult
to tell. The knee length black patent
leather boots had four inch heels, but she walked on them like a practiced
model.
The boots covered the
lower legs of a black latex catsuit, the zip at the front pulled up to the
intruder’s throat – but it left little to the imagination as to the build of
the woman, as the latex hugged her curves.
A pair of long gloves
covered her hands, one of which was holding a very real gun as she pointed it
at Suzanne, the other holding a small holdall.
The only other thing she was wearing was a black silk scarf, folded in a
triangle and tied round her head, covering her mouth and nose as she looked at
the young woman.
“You’re going to be a
good girl, aren’t you?”
Suzanne nodded slowly
as the woman walked over, her hips swaying.
“That’s good,” she said quietly, “your bed looks comfortable. Lie face down on it.”
“Why...”
“Unless you wish to be
hurt,” the intruder whispered in a dangerous voice, “lie down.
“Now.”
Suzanne nodded as she
walked over and lay down, looking to the side as the masked woman put the bag
she was carrying on the bed next to her.
As she opened it, she took out a thin black plastic strip, and took hold
of Suzanne’s left arm. Bending it at the
elbow, so that her wrist was against her forearm, she wrapped the strip round,
feeding the end through a hasp and then pulling tight with one tug so that her
arm was held in a bent double position.
“That hurts,” Suzanne
said as she looked at her arm, her hand waving and unable to do anything, as
the masked woman walked round and secured her other arm in the same way. The plastic strip dug into her skin, before
she felt the woman pull her left ankle back, using another zip tie to secure it
to the back of her thigh, and then repeating the process on the other side.
“There,” she said as
she gave the fourth zip tie one last, sharp tug, and then smacked her bottom,
“now, tell me where you keep your lovely valuables.”
“In... In the top drawers,” Suzanne said, wondering
why this woman had done this. She rolled
onto her side, watching as the masked woman walked over and emptied the
contents of the top drawers onto the floor – everything except her jewels,
which went into a sack which she then placed into the bag.
The strips were digging
into her soft flesh, but the way her hands were secured, there was nothing she
could do about it – all she could hope was this woman would rob her, and leave
her until she could raise the alarm.
“Nice things,” she said
from under the silk scarf as she walked over, and used the back of her hand to
stroke Suzanne’s cheeks, “but I think we should have some fun now.”
“What do you
meaannnbthss,” Suzanne said as the woman rolled her back onto her stomach, and
drew a length of rope from her bag. She
tied one end of it round Suzanne’s left elbow, cinching it as well, and then
pulled it along her back, tying the other end round her right elbow so that
they were drawn together behind her – not touching, but secured together.
“That hurts!”
“I know – isn’t it
delightful,” the woman purred as she forced Suzanne’s ankles together, and used
a second length of rope to lash them together.
As she was rolled onto her back, Suzanne was forced to rest on her folded
arms, her knees spread apart as she saw the woman take a scalpel from her bag.
She started by cutting
Suzanne’s t-shirt from neck to hem, and down the sleeves, pulling it off her
and exposing her white bra. “Oh look at
them,” she purred as she saw Suzanne’s nipples through the lace bra, and then
grabbed it with her hands, squeezing hard as Suzanne cried out in surprise and
pain.
Her grip didn’t lessen
as she groped and squeezed, Suzanne trying to get out of the way, but given she
was trussed like a chicken for roasting, there was nothing she could do. She could only watch as the masked woman took
the scalpel, and cut her bra away, her gloved fingers sinking deep into her
breasts as she teased and groped and...
“SHIT!”
Suzanne screamed out in
pain as the woman fastened a pair of metal clamps to her nipples, the edges
clamping onto her nipples as she looked at the chain connecting them. The pain was searing, and only increased as
the masked woman laughed, her finger pulling on the chain.
“Oh you think that
hurts – just wait.”
She felt the woman pull
her leggings down, the scalpel flat against her hip, and then the cold air on
her clit as her panties were cut away.
“Open your mouth.”
Suzanne clamped her
lips shut, shaking her head, unwilling to allow them to go where she thought
they should go – and then she felt the hard slap on her cheek.
“Open... Your... Mouth.”
“Nnnn.”
“Oh dear,” the woman
said as she flashed the scalpel round, and then pressed the flat of the blade
against her throat.
“Last chance...”
Suzanne looked into the
blue eyes, and then nodded as she opened her mouth, trying not to retch as the
panties were stuffed in – and then a second pair, not her own, but as wet and
soiled were pushed in as well. She
looked up as the woman took a roll of black tape from her bag, and then wrapped
it tightly round Suzanne’s head, sealing her lips as she felt the burning in
her chest.
“There – now for the
finishing touch.”
Suzanne could only
watch as she produced a chain with two hooks – one of which she clipped between
her breasts, before she pulled down.
“HMMFFKGGNNGGDDDDD!”
Suzanne closed her eyes
and screamed as she was rolled onto her stomach, and the chain pulled up
between her legs, the metal sinking between her wet lips as she took it between
her ankles, and then yanked it back, the pain increasing as she clipped it
around the rope between her elbows.
She could barely move –
and when she did, the metal rubbing on her was driving her crazy, the pain
ebbing and flowing, the feelings inside her just growing stronger and stronger.
She could only watch
through eyes misting with tears – tears of what she didn’t know – as the woman
put her valuables into the bag, close it, and then take one last look at her
before she left the room...