Chaste (A One Week Chronicles Story) Pt. 02

Dear Reader,

thank you for clicking on this story and reading it. I hope that you enjoy it, but know that it will be my most divisive story! Hopefully, by the end, you will see why the story was told...each story I tell has a part of me in it and helps prepare me for my other writing, but some of my stories have more of me in them that others. The One Week main stories are all me, but we all have darker places and times where we feel a little more heavily burdened. Perhaps this story reflects those moments, though the strength of the two main characters is a light in that dark; one we can all aspire to have.

Chaste

Part 2

*

Chapter 1

Cheryl panicked as the large man grabbed her and dragged her into the club. Turning round, she saw Emma laughing as the door slammed shut and strong hands clamped round her mouth, muffling any screams she made. She tried to bite her attacker and received a clout to the head for her troubles.

The world swam and she struggled to hold on to consciousness as she was manhandled down a long corridor, heels dragging on the floor as she was carried as if she weighed no more than a child. She found herself hurled into a room where someone waited for her. He wore a large leather jacket that emphasised his huge size and his face was pocked with scars. His hooded eyes held no malice or joy at what he was doing. He saw Cheryl as merchandise and in her panicked fear she knew that made him even more dangerous. His voice, when he spoke was thickly accented, a deep bass rumble that stopped her struggles.

"You must be proud," he said. "You are the first. Your wife, she is quite the business woman." Cheryl, defiant at last, hurled abuse at her captor.

"Let me go!" she screamed. He nodded to someone behind her and she received another clip on the head and fell to the floor, sobbing in pain. Her captor stepped closer and kneeled down, lifting her chin with a calloused hand.

"Say night, night, Doris. You are about to enter someone's Wonderland." A hood was thrown over Cheryl's head and she was forcibly lifted from the ground. Every sound was muffled in the hood, but she could still hear voices.

"It's Dorothy," said a man to her right.

An angry sigh.

"Why you correct me? Every time. I crack joke, you spoil it." Before she could hear the reply, the world blacked out as she was injected with something vile and she embraced oblivion with delight.

Barcelona -- Two Years Later

Louise stepped from the Ferrari and looked at the sun as it set low over the horizon. It was stunning, the soft rays gently caressing Old Town as the streets filled with tourists and locals alike, all enjoying the atmosphere and beautiful city. Louise was dressed in a long flowing dress that showed her cleavage and clung to her figure as if she was poured into it. The crimson silk had a long slit up one leg and was backless with a tie around her neck, the material encrusted with diamonds that shimmered and sparkled as it hung down her slender back.

She picked her matching clutch from the passenger seat and stepped from the car, blending into the crowds, the sound of her stiletto heels absorbed by the chatter and excitement of a city preparing for the evening ahead. The silk of her skirts flapped as she walked, wrapping around her legs sensuously and highlighting their long, slender form.

People stopped to look at the stunning beauty as she walked passed. Some openly appraised her, others were more discreet, but it was impossible to ignore the elegant woman as she walked past the queue to a nightclub and smiled at the bouncer who unclipped the rope and graciously allowed her through.

The club was nestled away from the beach front and composed of several tiers, each lit in elaborate colours and styles. A different theme for each of the four floors. The club was exclusive and expensive. As Louise walked down the long corridor, she caught the eye of the barman who immediately ignored the waiting customers and went to greet her as she arrived.

"What can I get you ma'am?" he asked, giving her his best smile.

"Balvenie please," she replied. The barman gulped a little before nodding his head and fetching the expensive drink. He poured a generous portion as Louise sat on a stool and turned to watch the club, sipping her drink and enjoying the fire from the whiskey burning her stomach. As she crossed her legs, the long slit of her dress parted to reveal her long legs and high heeled shoes. She chuckled as a few men and women turned to look.

One man, handsome in a generic and boring way, approached Louise and offered to buy her another drink.

"Hold this," she said and handed the bemused man her glass. Brushing past him, she bumped into a bouncer and he apologised profusely. She gave him her best smile and squeezed his arm to let him know that no harm was done. As he walked off, she made her way to the back of the club and swiped the security lock with the card that she had just pocketed from the bouncer.

With a quick glance, she opened the door and stepped through, closing it softly behind her and finding herself in a well-lit, office style area. Louise quickly walked down the corridor and turned left having memorised the building plans. Striding quickly, she heard footsteps and steeled herself as a security guard rounded the corner ahead of her.

"Hello?" she called nervously. The guard, a burly man in his twenties, held up a hand in a warning gesture. "I'm lost," said Louise. "I'm trying to find the toilets."

Approaching her quickly, the guard paused briefly as he appraised the woman in a revealing dress.

"You can't be here ma'am," he started before Louise, lighting quick and with ferocity borne of the desperate lashed out, moved into his reach and hit his throat with a closed fist. He gagged as his windpipe was battered and stepped back involuntarily, giving Louise momentum as she thrust forward and grabbed his forehead, smashing it back into the wall behind him and landing on his unconscious body as he crumpled to the ground.

It had taken seconds to disable him and she paused, one hand on his head, knee on his chest as she listened for any other sounds. There were none. Static sounded in her ear and Guy's voice came through a tiny earbud.

"We good?" he asked, nervousness in his voice.

"Clear," replied Louise and lifted herself from her victim and moved to her target, an office at the back of the club. She fired up the computer and plugged in a USB.

"We're in," she said softly and she could hear Guy tapping at a keyboard as he ran the software from his end.

"Five minutes," he said through the earpiece.

"Plan was three," said Louise, nervously looking around for signs of activity and mentally preparing for the worst.

"Rule one," he said and Louise sighed.

"Plan one goes to shit and so will every other plan," she replied, waiting testily as Guy finished. After an agonising wait, Guy declared himself done. Louise pulled the USB from the computer and reached into her clutch, pulling out a small device and attaching it to the frame of a door marked Server Room One in Spanish.

She moved as fast as she could in heels and made it to the security door without incident. She took a deep breath before opening it, having no way of knowing if the bouncer from earlier had returned to his station.

Pushing the door open, she quickly scanned the room for the guard. He was by the bar and clearly looking for her, panic etched onto his face. Their eyes met as she closed the door and he raced towards her, knowing that she had taken his card and used it. She moved with purpose to him and reached out to a fire alarm as she passed it.

Pulling the trigger had an immediate effect. A wailing noise sounded in the building and the sprinklers came on with ferocity, soaking the customers and creating panic. The crowd streamed for the door and pushed the guard away in their efforts to escape as he pushed against the tide of people.

He manged to shove a few aside, his strength winning through and leapt towards Louise, teeth bared in anger, torrential water pouring down his face. Louise nimbly stepped aside and rammed an elbow at his temple. The blow was glancing, but it was enough to knock him off balance. He stumbled and she grabbed a stool, smashing it over his back to send him crashing to the floor.

She dropped the remnants of the stool and blended into the crowd. She could see more guards looking for someone, but not knowing who, Louise's guard having sent a garbled message through his mic. She made her way out from the building, just another customer whose evening had been spoilt by a fire alarm.

She was utterly soaked, water running in rivulets down her ruined dress, but she paid it no heed as she calmly stepped onto the street and crossed the road. She didn't even glance behind her. Ignoring the strange looks she got, Louise entered a building opposite the club and made her way up the steps winding around the core of the block of flats. Reaching the top, she stepped out onto the roof to find Guy waiting for her.

He was dressed in black fatigues and pulled the coms from his head as he appraised her in silence. He didn't need to say anything as he handed her a small black device with a trigger on it. She looked at it for some time before taking it and walking over to the edge of the roof to look at the club below.

"First time is hard," said Guy softly, watching Louise carefully as she turned to face him. "Sometimes it can be a bit overwhe..." His words were cut off by a large explosion as Louise pressed the button, tossed the device to Guy and walked away, great billows of smoke curling around the club as the device she'd set exploded, neutralising the IT capabilities of the network she was hunting.

Guy watched Louise as she closed the door to the roof behind her and wondered at what he'd created.

Chapter 3 -- Two Years Earlier.

Cheryl remembered little of the next few days. She was drugged at Dmitri's club and then hauled into a container that barely had room for her to lie down in, let alone hold the slop bucket, bottles of water and a box of cereal bars. A slither of light wormed its way through a rust bitten hole in the roof of her container and she could see that she was in a cargo hold of some kind. She had no recollection of how she got there or who had put her in the container.

Now and then she could hear the shouts of a crew and, by the movement of the vehicle and sounds of the ocean, she knew herself to be on a boat. Fear gnawed at her and Cheryl's isolation let her mind run amok with terrible foreboding of what lay in store for her at the end of the journey. Emma's betrayal stung. Not because of what she had done, even though this was a new low for her, but because Cheryl knew that she could have escaped earlier that day. Mary had offered her the chance and she had spurned it.

She had done it because she wanted to gain control of her life. To force Emma to give her the key to her chastity device and to symbolically free herself from her wife.

"Symbolism means nothing now, does it?" she said to Bob. He gave her a nervous look and cleaned his whiskers some more. Cheryl had named him Bob after she'd caught him in her box of cereal bars. The small rat had given her a shock and she'd tried to stamp on him as he escaped, breaking the heel to one of her shoes in the process. She still wore the dress she'd put on when Emma had invited her out to dinner, though the satin material was scuffed, stained and torn.

A short while later, Bob returned, lingering at the edges of light and watched Cheryl eat one of the bars. She didn't know how long she would be trapped here and so tried to ration them. However, she needed a friend to stop her sinking in to despair and so relented.

"Here," she said, tossing the rat a small chunk of the bar. "Don't eat it all at once."

Bob proved to be a good companion. He never judged when she cursed her life and those who'd betrayed her or let her down. He didn't admonish her for the bad language that would have made several members of the crew blush and he didn't make her feel awkward for crying in front of him. Over the course of a week, in which she was ignored, no matter how much she shouted or banged her fists on the container, she cried a lot.

As a storm hit and she was battered against the container, her slop bucket spilling on the floor, she cried some more and, as she finished her last cereal bar, giving Bob no reason to stay, she cried a little bit again.

Cheryl lost track of time and felt true despair as she finished the last of the water. She'd tried to ration it, but the container was so hot that she sweated out most of it as soon as it passed her lips. It was then that the infection from the spilt slop bucket took hold and a fever wracked her body, coursing through her veins and causing her terrible suffering. She shivered on the floor, unable to lift herself from the mess and gave up.

She could feel it. Could feel the blackness start to swallow her up. She could fight this. Find a reason to live, to keep soldiering on, but an image of Emma's cruel smile as she was abducted flashed through her mind and she reasoned that perhaps dying wasn't so bad after all.

She embraced oblivion and hoped with fervour that she would never wake again.

Chapter 4

Maggi recoiled at the smell as the van arrived at the deliveries entrance. She knew something was wrong as soon as her men stepped from the van, faces sombre.

"What's happened," she asked, her Chinese accent softly lacing its way through her speech. One of the men shrugged.

"When we arrived at port, we found her like this." He opened the back of the truck and Maggi saw the container that had housed Cheryl on her journey across the waters. The man quickly opened the container, the rusty hinges protesting, and indicated Cheryl, lying in a heap on the floor, covered in sick, urine and excrement. Maggi almost gagged at the smell but overcame her revulsion and stepped into the van to check for a pulse.

It took a long time, but she found the faintest trace of life. Cheryl's mind may have given up, but her body hadn't.

"Call Doctor Aronofski and get him here now." She indicated for the guard to pick Cheryl up and bring her into the house. He hesitated for a moment before stepping up to lift Cheryl as if she weighed no more than a sack of feathers. As he took her into the house, Maggi called over the remaining men and spoke angrily.

"Karl paid a lot of money for this cargo. Go down to the docks and remind the traffickers of their responsibilities." They gave a curt nod and made to leave.

"Just kill three of them," said Maggi. "That should be sufficient to make your point."

As they sped off in the van, Maggi turned on her heels and strode into the house, hoping that Karl's new toy wasn't too badly damaged.

Maggi had too much to lose if she was.

Chapter 5

It was a week later before Cheryl woke. She found herself lying in a comfortable bed in an elegantly decorated room. Sunlight streamed in through the large windows and the walls had tasteful pastel paintings hanging from them, their colour matching the light furniture. She was dressed in a soft, pink negligee, her dress having been removed.

It took a while for Cheryl to notice the woman sitting on a chair, reading a magazine and flicking the pages with well-manicured fingers. She wore a close fitting Chinese dress of black satin with a red dragon curling around her waist and chest. She wore court shoes with a five inch spike and her hair was loose over her shoulders. She looked stunning and had the kind of beauty that took the breath away until you noticed something.

The eyes. They were hard and cruel. Cheryl had seen eyes like that before. On her wife as she'd caged her cock and forcibly feminized her. At the thought of her wife, Cheryl instinctively reached down below the sheets and found her fingers brushing against the metal of a chastity device as it glowered below the silk of her negligee.

She sighed and looked up to find the strange woman putting her magazine down as she gave Cheryl a predatory smile.

"I'm glad you're awake," she said. "We very nearly lost you. How are you feeling?" She didn't really look like she cared, but Cheryl answered her anyway.

"I feel much better thank you," she replied and the strange woman gracefully stood up and walked to the bed, laying what she thought was a comforting hand on hers.

"That's good. I'll have someone bring you some food. You need to rest up." She left the room and moments later a burly man came through carrying a tray of food.

"For you," he said and tossed the tray at the end of the bed and left the room. There was an ominous click as he left and locked the door behind him. It was a reminder that, however luxurious the room, she was still a prisoner.

Grabbing the tray, she wolfed the food down in a most unladylike manner and stared mournfully at the empty plate, willing it to somehow make more food. Deciding that it wasn't going to happen, she swung her legs from the bed, intending to head for the bathroom that she spied in the far corner.

It was then that she noticed that her legs were completely smooth. She knew she had been unconscious for a while and ran her hand over her legs to feel for any traces of stubble. Her arms were also smooth and she checked her chest to also find it devoid of hair. Puzzled, she made her way to the bathroom and checked herself in the mirror.

She looked pale and gaunt, but there was some colour in her cheeks. She was down, but not out. Her face was smooth as well, all trace of any shadow gone. Her eyebrows were shapely and she had long hair that framed her face. She hadn't noticed any of this as she woke, but it suddenly seemed obvious as her body tingled.

She reached a hand to her hair and realised that the texture was just slightly different.

"It's weave," said Maggi, startling Cheryl as she stepped into the bathroom. "It'll hold until your own hair grows. We've also taken the time to remove the hair from your body."

"Thank you," said Cheryl softly. Maggi smiled, but her eyes didn't.

"You can thank me later," she said. "Please let me show you to your quarters now that you are up and about. You'll need to get changed before meeting Karl."

"Oh," said Cheryl, suddenly disappointed. "I thought these were my quarters." Maggi did laugh then.

"Oh Cheryl," she said, her voice mocking. "You need to earn this room." Cheryl gulped in fear but knew that she was too weak to do anything but follow this enigmatic woman. As they left the room, two guards took up station behind them and followed the pair as they wound through a maze of corridors, Cheryl becoming swiftly lost.

She could tell that they were in someone's house, but the size of the sprawling network of buildings, all connected by corridors that ran underground, over ground and overhead was staggering. Every room and corridor was tastefully decorated and there was a constant bustle of guards, maids and servants.

They paid Cheryl no heed as she walked passed them, but they looked to the floor when Maggi neared. They were clearly terrified of her. Even the guards looked nervous when she was about.

"Why am I here?" asked Cheryl, tiring quickly after the long journey. Maggi walked in silence for a while before stopping at a large door with a deadbolt on the outside. She spoke casually and with brutal honesty but the words sent ripples of terror through Cheryl.

"Karl understands power. He understands how to show it, how to wield it and how to crush it. You will be a trophy. A display of the power he can yield over just one individual. A plaything that he will never touch but will delight in using."

Cheryl looked around nervously, her heart beating rapidly, desperate for some escape. She saw an open door at the end of the corridor and prepared to run.