Vicky

"Sam...Blake. I have your phone."

His worst fears were confirmed. The voice on the other end of the line, practically purring with predatory threat, was none other than Vicky. He could practically see her, sitting on her chair in her dark office, eyes aglow in the dim, wicked smile on her face. Sam knew the score. He was cornered, trapped, utterly fucked.

Panic almost overtook him, threatened to consume his entire being and drive him to complete madness. What the fuck could he do? He was just an average guy, Vicky was a mafia princess with a legion of thugs, goons, mooks and minions at her beck and call.

He desperately searched around the corners of his mind for any way that might save his ass from being whacked. Jerry might help him, if asked. But what could he be expected to do? The guy barely knew what day it was at a given time. No, his options were limited, somewhere between fuck all and jack shit. He was very likely going to be facing a bullet, one way or another.

His mind shifted priorities. Chances are that he was dead already, but maybe he could do something to keep Julie and Stella safe. If he did that...maybe it could be ok. Or at least as 'ok' as they could be.

Steeling himself, he answered the phone. "Vicky. What do you want?"

"You know what I want." Sam cringed a little. The voice on the other end of the line was cold as an arctic breeze. She wasn't just pissed, she was murderous.

"We're going to meet," she said after several heartbeats. "No more fucking around, no more games. I gave you a choice and you fucking bolted like a coward."

Sam closed his eyes, said a silent prayer, and then spoke. "I'm willing to meet with you, I'm willing to sit down and hash all this out...and afterwards...afterwards if you're still mad, I'm willing to go with you."

"Oh you are?" There was mirthless laugh, "so now you grow a spine."

"I'll meet with you," Sam went on, "but it has to be somewhere public. A cafe, a restaurant, a pub even..."

There was another extended pause, Sam could almost hear the gears of her mind turning. Eventually there was a click of Vicky's tongue. "Fine."

Sam felt himself release a breath he didn't know he had been holding.

"That cafe just a few blocks down from the office," Vicky told him, "I'll be waiting there in...half an hour."

The line went dead, no room for argument.

Sam almost collapsed as some of the tension left his body. He was still up shit creek, but Vicky had managed to reign herself in. Perhaps there was some kind of semblance of hope? He didn't know what, but perhaps he could negotiate something, anything. And at a public venue, with people everywhere? She'd have to restrain her more murderous impulses. He checked his watch. If he wanted to get to the cafe in time he'd need to leave immediately. It wouldn't pay to make Vicky more angry than she already was by being late.

For a moment he thought about seeing Julie and Stella before he left. It was very possible that this would be his last chance before he was given a pair of cement shoes. But his alterations...he didn't want his last moments to be thinking of them as sexed up nymphos. He'd cherish them as they were.

He was still picturing the good times he'd had with his family in the early days as he was walking out his front door. A sudden and sharp pain struck him in the side of the neck, like a hornet's bite. But when he raised his hand to the wound he felt....something. Something lodged in his skin. Panicking, he grabbed the thing and tugged it free.

A ...dart? What?

He blinked at the object in confusion. A tranquilliser dart? Here? There was no safari, right? But...but...he blinked, struggling to string his thoughts together. What was he supposed to do? There were no images around him now, only colours, light. Sounds too. His world shifted, and suddenly down was up and then all sense left him.

**

He awoke several hours later, becoming aware of his surroundings incrementally. First murmurs of muddied voices in the dark. Then light began to crack through the oblivion, shapes began to emerge. The feeling in his limbs returned to him and he had some sense of himself, sitting up. Eventually full consciousness returned and he glanced about while shaking off his confusion.

It was a small, bare room, half shrouded in shadow. He couldn't see any windows. Looking down at himself he saw that he was naked, and worse, bound to a chair. The ropes that held his arms behind him gnawed at the flesh of his wrists, as if to remind him that he was in trouble.

Eventually his gaze lifted to the other side of the room, squinting to try and make out what was there. He caught movement.

In a small round and cushioned chair sat a woman. Her naked body was on display for him, bronzed and oiled with tan, her tits sitting proud and full on her chest rising and falling slowly with every careful breath. He could see the contours of her amazonian abdomen and thighs, her body muscled with frequent gym use and perfect for the act of love. Slowly she parted her legs and displayed a shaved pussy that gleamed with excitement in the low light.

"Oh, you're awake," Vicky said, smiling over at him. "Now we can begin."