Dark Desires

by Ray Gordon

  'Your father's...' he stammered, obviously stunned. 'I've never given a thought to his money.'

  'His money is the very reason you didn't want to leave me. You told Angela that, so don't deny it.'

  'That bitch has been talking to you, hasn't she?'

  'She proved to be a bitch to me, Zak. And now she's proving to be a bitch to you. She's told me everything, you fool. Girls stick together, Zak. Guilt got the better of her and she told me everything.'

  Grinning as he stormed out of the flat, Samantha felt good inside. Her new talent was inexplicable, but the benefits it was bringing her were incredible. As much sex as she wanted, discovering people's dark secrets... There was no limit to what she could do, she knew as she decided to have an early night. She'd go into work the following day, she decided, climbing beneath the quilt. There were one or two people in the office she wouldn't mind learning a little more about. There was Sally, John... Christine was a dark horse. It might be worth taking a look around her flat, delving into her private life. Tomorrow was going to prove most interesting.

  Chapter 4

  'So, what happened at the mansion?' Dave asked, perching on the edge of his desk.

  'It's not a hoax,' Samantha replied. 'I saw a ghost, Dave. I know that you're going to laugh at me, but—'

  'So there's no fucking story?'

  'No, there's not. However, I'm onto something that will... Let's just say that this could be the biggest story this crummy little paper has ever had.'

  'Crummy little paper? Fuck me. I like that.'

  'Girls lured to a den of sex by a female schoolteacher. A married couple whipping the girls, fucking them, sexually seducing them...'

  'This is more like it. Go on.'

  'It's a training school, a correction centre. In truth, it's a den of iniquity. Handcuffs, vibrators, whips, speculums, instruments of sexual torture...'

  'Fuck me, this is brilliant. OK, names, addresses...'

  'No, not yet.'

  'Sammy baby, this isn't one of your whims, is it?'

  'I've been there, to the torture chamber. You're not getting anything until I've got more, OK?'

  'Shit, you always do this to me. OK, OK, I agree. But keep me posted, for fuck's sake.'

  'I will, don't worry.'

  'How the hell did you stumble across this?'

  'I know the woman who runs the torture chamber.'

  'Fucking hell.'

  'I was at school with her.'

  'Double fucking hell. OK, so what's your next move?'

  'I've set something up to get her out of her house this morning. Her husband is away on business, so the place will be empty.'

  'Be careful, Sam.'

  'I will, don't worry. I'll need a camera.'

  'Grab one from Derek on your way out. And for fuck's sake, keep me posted.'

  'Don't I always?'

  'Like fuck, you do.'

  Leaving the building, Samantha drove to Jane's house and parked a few doors away. Sure that the woman would take the bait, she checked her watch. Ten-thirty. Within minutes Jane left her house and drove off. Clutching the camera, Samantha walked up the front path and slipped around the back of the house. This was nothing new to her, she reflected, trying the back door. Her various exploits, even as a journalist on a crummy local paper, had taken her on many interesting and dangerous missions. Noticing the dining-room window ajar, she opened it and clambered into the house.

  So far so good, she thought, slipping into the hall and creeping up the stairs. Apart from photographs of the torture chamber, she was hoping to find names and addresses of the victims. Doubting that Jane would leave such information lying around, she slipped through a door and found herself standing in the sex chamber. This wasn't evidence, she mused, taking several photographs. There was nothing illegal about a married couple setting up a sex den in their house. Looking around the room, she discovered a small diary.

  'Yes,' she breathed, opening it and flicking through the pages. 'P,' she read, hoping that stood for procurer. Deciding to steal the diary, she took several more photographs of the room before leaving the house. Jane would obviously discover that the diary had gone, but she'd have no idea who the thief was. With any luck she might have become complacent and think she'd mislaid it. Sitting in her car, Samantha read through the diary. There was nothing about the girls, no names or addresses. But at least Samantha now reckoned that she had the phone number of the schoolteacher involved. Grabbing her mobile phone, she dialled it.

  'Oh, hi,' Samantha said as a woman answered. 'Geoff put me on to you.'

  'Geoff?' she queried.

  'You are the procurer?'

  'Er... who is this?'

  'My name's Sally. I've known Geoff and Jane for years. After a tour of their house, if you get my meaning, Geoff suggested that I give you a call.'

  'What about?'

  'I have a similar room at my place and... I need a supplier. Look, can we meet to discuss this?'

  'Well, I... I'll give Geoff a ring and then get back to you.'

  'He's away in Zurich at the moment. Give Jane a ring. She'll tell you about me.'

  'OK, I'll do that now.'

  'You can get my number by using dial-back.'

  'All right, give me a few minutes.'

  As the woman hung up Samantha dashed back to Jane's house and clambered through the dining-room window again. This was risky, she knew as she waited by the telephone. The woman might realize it wasn't Jane. And they might even have some sort of code to authenticate their identities. If she could only discover who the woman was and where she lived... Lifting the receiver as the phone rang, she prayed that Jane wouldn't return just yet. She put on a muffled voice.

  'Hello,' Samantha said softly.

  'Jane, it's P.'

  'Oh, hi.'

  'A woman just rang me and said that Geoff had put her on to me. Her name's Sally.'

  'Oh, yes. She's interested in our set-up and wants to start a similar thing.'

  'She's OK, then?'

  'God, yes. I've known her for a long time.'

  'Are you all right? Only, you sound different.'

  'I think I have a cold coming on. I'll be all right.'

  'Right, I'll ring this woman back. OK if we meet at your place?'

  'Er... I'd rather you didn't. I have some people coming round and Geoff's away.'

  'I suppose it'll be all right to meet her in a pub.'

  'She's genuine, believe me.'

  'OK, talk soon.'

  Replacing the receiver, her hands trembling, Samantha slipped out of the house and went back to her car. This was bloody risky, she knew as she waited for the woman to ring. Once she discovered where the woman lived, she could slip back in time a day or two and take a look around her house for evidence of her part in the debauchery. It might have been an idea to visit the school where she taught, Samantha thought, tapping the steering wheel as she waited impatiently. Calling Dave, she asked him to get the address from the woman's number. He complained but finally agreed to call his contact at the phone company. The phone rang the moment she'd finished talking to Dave and she pressed the button, grinning as the woman asked for Sally.

  'That's me,' Samantha said. 'Did you talk to Jane?'

  'Yes, I did. I think we'd better meet in a pub, if that's all right with you?'

  'Of course. When and where?'

  'There's a wine bar in the High Street. I think it's called the Grapevine.'

  'Yes, I know it.'

  'I'll head there now.'

  'All right. I'm wearing a red miniskirt and white blouse. I have blonde hair and—'

  'I'll find you, don't worry.'

  'OK, I'll see you soon.'

  Starting the engine, Samantha drove to the High Street and parked in the supermarket car park opposite the wine bar. She knew that the teacher would eventually talk to Jane and realize that she'd been set up. And when she described 'Sally', it wouldn't take long to work out that it was really Samantha. What with that and th
e missing diary... Noticing a young woman entering the wine bar, Samantha climbed out of her car and locked the door. She wouldn't have a problem flannelling the woman with stories of sexually tormenting girls, but she knew it wasn't going to be easy discovering where she lived.

  Walking into the bar, Samantha ordered an orange juice as she watched the woman out of the corner of her eye. She was in her late twenties with shoulder-length auburn hair. Her full lips furling into a smile as she looked at Samantha and walked towards her, she wasn't at all unattractive. Wearing a short blue skirt and matching blouse, she looked nothing like a schoolteacher, Samantha thought, wondering what to say as the woman looked her up and down as if she was for sale. Wondering whether she was a lesbian, Samantha introduced herself as Sally.

  'Pleased to meet you,' the woman said, her brown eyes staring at Samantha's nipples pressing through her blouse. 'You can call me Lucinda. So, you're interested in setting up a room?'

  'Yes, I am,' Samantha replied eagerly.

  'How do you think I can help?'

  'Girls...'

  'That's your preference?'

  'Oh, definitely.'

  'I see. What has Jane told you about me?'

  'Not a great deal. She said that you're the procurer, that you're a schoolteacher... You supply Jane with girls. That's what I want you to do for me.'

  'And what do I get in return?'

  'What does Jane give you?'

  'You don't know?'

  'Jane was pretty secretive, Lucinda.'

  'She gave you my mobile number. I don't call that secretive.'

  'Telling me your phone number was hardly giving anything away. I've known her for many years, known about her room. When I said that I'd like to start up, she suggested I call you. Actually, it was Geoff's idea. So, can you help me or not?'

  'I might be able to. I'll have to make one or two checks before I—'

  'So will I,' Samantha cut in, deciding to take a firmer stance. 'I'll need to know which school...'

  'No, no. You've come to me, Sally. I'll do the checking and I'll ask the questions.'

  'In that case, I think we'll leave it at that.'

  'As you wish. Although I must say that you don't seem very keen.'

  'I'm extremely keen and I have money. But I don't deal with evasive people. I need to know exactly who and what I'm dealing with, for obvious reasons.'

  'So do I, Sally.'

  'Of course. The truth is that I've been in this business for several years now. My original supplier... He went out of business. I'm now looking for someone I can trust, depend on and—'

  'I would have thought that Jane would have been a good enough reference?'

  'The way I look at it... I don't trust anyone, Lucinda. And you'd be wise to do the same.'

  'I think we can sort something out between us. As for the financial side of things—'

  'I don't want to talk about it here,' Samantha interrupted her. 'If you're interested in supplying me, then I'll come to your place this evening.'

  'My place?' The schoolteacher laughed. 'Oh, no, no...'

  'I don't think this is going to work out.'

  'Be reasonable, Sally. I've never met you before, and you're asking for my address?'

  'Excuse me for a moment,' Samantha said, answering her mobile.

  'Sammy baby, it's me. Can you talk?'

  'No, but you can.'

  'I've got it. Twenty-five Ivy Road. Her name's Jones, Kitty Jones.'

  'OK, thanks. So,' Samantha said, smiling at the woman as she switched her phone off, 'it looks as if we're at logger-heads.'

  'Even Jane doesn't know where I live. In a business such as this—'

  'I'll be straight with you,' Samantha broke in. 'I've already checked you out. Does Ivy Road mean anything to you? It should, seeing as you live there.'

  'You know?' the woman gasped. 'But how on earth...'

  'I've been in this game for quite some time. There's no way I'd meet you in a bar without doing a little homework first, Kitty.'

  'You know my name? Well, I must say that you're pretty shrewd.'

  'Shrewdness has nothing to do with it. OK, your place this evening?'

  'Why not? About seven?'

  'OK, I'll be there.'

  Leaving the wine bar, Samantha grinned as she walked to her car. This was going to be easy, she mused. Slip back in time a day or two, check out the woman's house... Exposing her old school friend wasn't something she relished, but she knew it had to be done. Driving to Ivy Road, Samantha wondered how many were involved in the group. Perhaps it was just Geoff and Jane, she reflected. Parking a few yards from the teacher's house, she closed her eyes and concentrated...

  'So you understand?' Kitty asked as Samantha found herself standing in the hall.

  'Yes,' a girl replied. 'Don't worry, I won't blow it.'

  'There's a lot of money at stake, Caroline. Have you shaved?'

  'Of course I have. Look, nothing will go wrong. You worry too much.'

  'I always worry when there's money at stake. If they discover that this is a set-up, that you're seventeen and not a virgin... You do know what to expect, don't you?'

  'Yes,' the girl sighed as Samantha spied through the crack in the door. 'The whip, handcuffs... God, I'm not stupid.'

  Frowning, Samantha realized what was going on as she gazed at Caroline. This was the virginal and innocent victim she'd met in the torture chamber, she reflected. But not so virginal and not so innocent, she mused. So that was the schoolteacher's game. Supplying teenage girls to Jane and her husband and making out that they were something they weren't. Wondering how much money Kitty was raking in, Samantha knew her story was dead. Dave wasn't going to be at all happy, she thought, gazing through the crack in the door.

  'I have to be careful,' Kitty breathed. 'The last girl almost ruined everything.'

  'What happened?' Caroline asked.

  'She made it blatantly obvious that she wasn't so naive and then she mentioned working in an office. Luckily she realized her mistake and added that it was a Saturday job. Anyway, don't worry about her. You're a virgin, you're naive, gullible, frightened...'

  'Kitty, we've been through all this.'

  'I know, I know. The woman, Jane, asked me whether I really was a schoolteacher after the last girl almost fucked things up. If they ask where you go, it's a private school called Lodge Mead, OK?'

  'OK. So, when are we going there?'

  'This evening. Get here at five and you'll have time to change into your school uniform. I'll take you to the house at six and, when Jane opens the door, I'll bundle you into the hall. You'll cry and I'll hand you over to Jane for your punishment. You've had half the cash and you'll get the other half when I pick you up at ten o'clock.'

  'This is easy money for four hours of sex,' Caroline giggled.

  'With any luck they'll want you again. I have a few girls who are regulars now.'

  'Do they get the same money each time?'

  'No. The first time is the best because they're supposed to be virgins. After their first visit the money halves.'

  This was clever, Samantha reflected as she crept up the stairs. Jane and Geoff were the gullible and naive ones, not the girls. Again wondering how much money was involved, Samantha slipped into a room housing a desk and a computer. There was no time to take a good look round, but she'd come back again when Kitty was out and search the house thoroughly. Hoping that the computer contained some interesting information, she hovered on the landing as the front door closed. Listening to Kitty making a phone call, Samantha grinned when she realized the woman was talking to Jane.

  'Her name's Caroline,' she said as Samantha crept down the stairs. 'Stealing. I caught her stealing cash from the bursar's office. Her father is something big in the City and if it comes to light... Oh yes, she's a virgin all right. She's terrified that her father will be told of her thieving. Not only would she be expelled, but her father... Let's just say that she'll be putty in your hands...

  'J
ane, the last girl was a virgin. Just because her hymen wasn't intact... Of course I'm sure. Yes, I know that Geoff likes them untouched and I can assure you that they've never had sex. As I said to you before, girls experiment. They masturbate and often stick things up their pussies. God, I know I did. Yes, that's fine. I'll bring her round at six. OK, see you later.'

  Shaking her head, Samantha thought again how clever the scam was. But where did Kitty find the girls? And how did she get together with Jane and Geoff? Reckoning that Kitty might have been supplying others with girls, Samantha closed her eyes and concentrated on returning to her own time. Finding herself sitting in her car, she started the engine and drove off. Reaching her flat, she had an idea and rang the schoolteacher.

  'I'd like to see a sample,' she said as the woman answered.

  'A sample? You mean, you want to see a girl?'

  'Yes, that's right.'

  'I'm afraid that's not possible.'

  'A photograph?' Samantha persisted.

  'I do have a portfolio of my girls, but—'

  'Ah, that's good. I'd like a girl straight away.'

  'I can't get a girl for this evening. These things have to be arranged.'

  'Then arrange something for seven o'clock.' Hanging up, Samantha reckoned that she might get a story out of this after all. The girls were in their mid-to-late teens, but this was prostitution at the very least. Not quite as scandalous and sensational as Samantha had initially thought, but a story worth going after.

  Spending several hours packing Zak's things and dumping them by the front door, she didn't answer the persistent phone caller. It would have been Dave after an update she knew as she took a shower and checked her watch. Deciding to walk the short distance to Kitty's house, she grabbed her bag and left the flat. Doing her best to plan what she was going to say as she rang the doorbell, she took a deep breath and composed herself.

  'Come in,' Kitty said, looking up and down the street as Samantha entered the house. 'In the lounge.'

  'Nice place,' Samantha remarked, following her into the lounge and sitting on the sofa. 'You must earn a lot as a schoolteacher.'

  'It's not bad,' Kitty replied.

  'Seeing as you're not a teacher and there is no Lodge Mead...'