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Authors: Sean O'Kane
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home and had not had much contact with her parents before they both died, her mother soon after her father.
But one thing her father had always said was that she was a fighter. Even when he was most critical of her wild lifestyle, he always had to concede that she would fight her corner. Anna sat up, ran her fingers through her hair and physically shook herself. She was in a corner now and she had to fight her way out. There had to be a way and she was going to find it.
The cell they had put her in was really a three sided cage with its back against one wall of a cream and green painted room with a scratched and scruffy desk in the middle of it and various filing cabinets against the walls.
She had no sooner stood up than a woman entered the room. She was a tall well built woman, plainly an islander and wearing a crisp white shirt like the chief inspector, a tie and a tight black skirt that finished a couple of inches above the knee. She was well built but shapely, with a spectacular swell to her shirt over her breasts and her thighs were powerful but smooth and long.
Anna was five feet ten inches in her stockinged feet and this woman was pretty well eye to eye with her. She sauntered easily towards her.
“Well now, hun. The chief inspector has put you in my custody for the moment while we decide what we’re going to do with you. My name is Constable Mercy Fallon.” She smiled. “You ask for the mercy of God and you get me!” She threw back her head and laughed.
Anna didn’t know how to react, she couldn’t tell if the woman was hostile or a potential source of help so she grinned back and appraised the constable as she came close to the bars of her cell. Her practised eye took in the woman’s figure and she realised that under the shirt she was wearing a corset. She had no time to wonder about the appropriateness of that before the woman was standing right in front of her and regarding her seriously with large, brown eyes. Then behind her the door opened again and a girl came in. Suddenly Anna began to get another bad feeling, the day was full of them. The girl had been one of Mr Cutts’ cleaners and housemaids.
“You wanted me, Mistress?” the girl said.
Anna’s brow crinkled in puzzlement, you didn’t call policewomen ‘Mistress’ even on the island, surely?
The constable beckoned her over without looking away from Anna. The girl, dressed in a simple, wrap around cotton dress, belted at the waist, came forward and to Anna’s amazement the constable put an arm round her shoulders and began to knead her left breast through the fabric of the dress.
“Marie here belongs to me, hun,” the constable said. “She’s my slave. And she tells me she’s seen some stuff up at your place that I need to know about. Haven’t you, you slut?” She tweaked the nipple of the breast she was stroking, fetching a surprised yelp from the girl.
From her experience at arenas and with friends at some clubs, Anna knew about dominant and submissive relationships but had never seen them from close up. What mainly concerned her now however was the crafty smile Marie was now giving her.
“Go get me the whip from the cabinet, slut!” the constable snapped suddenly. “Better do some interrogating so Miss Chatham here don’t think we’ve been making up stuff about her.”
To Anna’s growing horror, the girl took from a filing cabinet drawer a multi tailed flogger in what looked like suede and brought it over to Mercy Fallon – although the name was looking increasingly bizarre. The woman had shrugged off her shirt and revealed that she was wearing a corset, one in shiny black satin with bright scarlet ribbons picking out the seams. Her breasts rippled fluidly as she moved to unzip and step out of her skirt. It hardly came as a surprise that she wore no knickers and her pubic mound and spectacular buttocks gleamed darkly under the mean lighting. Anna couldn’t help but be impressed by her physicality. She took the
But one thing her father had always said was that she was a fighter. Even when he was most critical of her wild lifestyle, he always had to concede that she would fight her corner. Anna sat up, ran her fingers through her hair and physically shook herself. She was in a corner now and she had to fight her way out. There had to be a way and she was going to find it.
The cell they had put her in was really a three sided cage with its back against one wall of a cream and green painted room with a scratched and scruffy desk in the middle of it and various filing cabinets against the walls.
She had no sooner stood up than a woman entered the room. She was a tall well built woman, plainly an islander and wearing a crisp white shirt like the chief inspector, a tie and a tight black skirt that finished a couple of inches above the knee. She was well built but shapely, with a spectacular swell to her shirt over her breasts and her thighs were powerful but smooth and long.
Anna was five feet ten inches in her stockinged feet and this woman was pretty well eye to eye with her. She sauntered easily towards her.
“Well now, hun. The chief inspector has put you in my custody for the moment while we decide what we’re going to do with you. My name is Constable Mercy Fallon.” She smiled. “You ask for the mercy of God and you get me!” She threw back her head and laughed.
Anna didn’t know how to react, she couldn’t tell if the woman was hostile or a potential source of help so she grinned back and appraised the constable as she came close to the bars of her cell. Her practised eye took in the woman’s figure and she realised that under the shirt she was wearing a corset. She had no time to wonder about the appropriateness of that before the woman was standing right in front of her and regarding her seriously with large, brown eyes. Then behind her the door opened again and a girl came in. Suddenly Anna began to get another bad feeling, the day was full of them. The girl had been one of Mr Cutts’ cleaners and housemaids.
“You wanted me, Mistress?” the girl said.
Anna’s brow crinkled in puzzlement, you didn’t call policewomen ‘Mistress’ even on the island, surely?
The constable beckoned her over without looking away from Anna. The girl, dressed in a simple, wrap around cotton dress, belted at the waist, came forward and to Anna’s amazement the constable put an arm round her shoulders and began to knead her left breast through the fabric of the dress.
“Marie here belongs to me, hun,” the constable said. “She’s my slave. And she tells me she’s seen some stuff up at your place that I need to know about. Haven’t you, you slut?” She tweaked the nipple of the breast she was stroking, fetching a surprised yelp from the girl.
From her experience at arenas and with friends at some clubs, Anna knew about dominant and submissive relationships but had never seen them from close up. What mainly concerned her now however was the crafty smile Marie was now giving her.
“Go get me the whip from the cabinet, slut!” the constable snapped suddenly. “Better do some interrogating so Miss Chatham here don’t think we’ve been making up stuff about her.”
To Anna’s growing horror, the girl took from a filing cabinet drawer a multi tailed flogger in what looked like suede and brought it over to Mercy Fallon – although the name was looking increasingly bizarre. The woman had shrugged off her shirt and revealed that she was wearing a corset, one in shiny black satin with bright scarlet ribbons picking out the seams. Her breasts rippled fluidly as she moved to unzip and step out of her skirt. It hardly came as a surprise that she wore no knickers and her pubic mound and spectacular buttocks gleamed darkly under the mean lighting. Anna couldn’t help but be impressed by her physicality. She took the
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