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Chapter 15

 

 

 

I must have blacked out again! What happened? 

I remember!  I'd accepted my fate and almost gone to sleep when, without any warning, she kicked me, unbelievably hard, in my fully exposed genitales.

Everything had gone grey with black spots but slowly my vision is clearing. Diana, Kikka, is in her black silk robe, sitting casually on the sofa and smiling down at me. She seems to be delighted with herself: "Oh there you are! You've been gone for such a long time", she complains, with her lower lip pushed out, pretending petulance.

I've been sobbing, on my side curled-up in the foetal position. "Oh! Don't cry for me Argentina!" she croons. "I've been waiting and waiting for you to come back. I'm afraid you've missed breakfast, lunch and afternoon tea. So, while you were gone, I've prepared something special for you to watch."

With a press of the remote her video production comes up on the TV.

Diana is dressed and made-up presidentially, waring serious glasses with her hair tightly pulled back into a bun, looking anything but a femme fatale. She's sitting at the desk, looking into the camera; sorting papers in front of her; playing the political candidate.

"I've been the victim of attempted blackmail; gross indecency; and sexual abuse," she tells her audience. 

"The perpetrator is this man who has escaped, leaving behind this camera, that I have reason to believe is stolen." 

My face fills the screen then she holds up a plastic bag containing the Olympus. 

"He left this clock, that is actually a camera pointed into my bedroom... [pause] where I get undressed." 

It's sitting on the console, with the bed in the background. The back is open, showing the camera inside. 

"I've been careful how I've touched it, as I expect that it's covered in the pervert's fingerprints."

Now she's holding up my wallet, so that her audience can see what's she's doing.  She's going through it with her finger tips.  I get the message. I couldn't stop her doing anything she wanted to do! She's showing the fake driver's licence that Geraldo gave me, for the hire car, and that stolen credit card, that I used for the hotel security deposit.

"In this wallet, that he left behind as he fled, there are two different ID's so it's likely that this is stolen too," she tells the camera as she shows the card.  

"But these are the least of his crimes. In this plastic bag there is a small sample of his ejaculate from when he did this..." 

Here she's inserted footage of me standing naked by the bathroom door masturbating.

"Police will be able to extract his DNA. I don't need to tell you how appalled I was by this man. Yet he seemed to believe, like many such exhibitionist perverts, that I would be seduced by his actions, can you imagine?"

"When I rejected his crude advances, he tried to rape me... "

Here she had inserted footage showed me screaming: "I'm going to have you whether you like it or not, you prick-teasing slut. Come here!" then running towards the camera as she cries 'rape'.

Crashes can then be heard in the background, mixed with my obscenities and me yelling: "I'm going to kill, you bitch!"

"Fortunately, I had the presence of mind to use the camera in my phone to capture these images and the skills and fitness to fight him off, before he took fright and fled.

"It's enabled me to make this YouTube video for all the women of the world, as a warning against inviting a stranger back to your hotel for a drink, particularly if he's a good-looking young man who offers to help in a political office. This one seemed gallant and perhaps effeminate - pleasant company - until I found myself alone with him in private. A wolf in sheep's clothing."

"The police have a duty to catch camera thieves but this one is also the worst kind of sexual predator. And you heard him threaten my life. No woman is safe while he's still on the loose. That's why I'm offering a hundred thousand US dollars reward for his capture"

The screen's gone blank.

I'm in shock.

"Oh dear," she says, breaking my silence. "It does look bad for you, doesn't it?  Did I say six years jail. Now I'm thinking twenty, if you're very good." 

"I imagine, with that very explicit masturbation scene, it will go viral. It will also make great TV on the news channels. With your genitales pixelated out of course. It won't matter where in the world you are. Can I call you Carmeno Sandiego? You'll be recognised immediately. Did I mention my hundred thousand reward, for your capture?"

She's right! If she releases this, my days of freedom will be limited. But I might be safer in jail than out with Geraldo stalking me.

My only chance is to stop her doing any of this. Maybe I should try to kill her? 

"You're thinking about killing me aren't you," she says, reading my mind again. 

"Have you heard of 'failsafe'? It's a system or plan that comes into operation in the event of something going wrong or something that will happen by default, in the event that another action is not taken. In this case failsafe means that this video is already set up to be published automatically from my political website in just under forty-eight hours. And while you were sleeping, I took a memory card to the airport and used your locker key to leave it for Geraldo. Needless to say, the key isn't here anymore. So now I'm the only one who can stop these things happening." 

Shit! I have to admire how smart she is. "Why are you doing this?" I ask her, despairingly.

"To make you mine," she replies. "I've decided to make you my undercover agent. Diego, I suppose that’s James? As in James Bond, 007. Yes?"

I nod.

"I always find that my close associates work much better for me when their life is in my hands."

"So, if I agree to work for you, you'll retrieve the card from the airport and stop the release of this video?" I check.

"Of course, I wouldn't want to harm my agente encubierto," she confirms. "You'll be my undercover agent so I'll call you 003, code name: Carmeno Sandiego, from now on. But it's not really working for me is it, when you have elected to do it for me voluntarily. You have choices."

She's talking about enslavement but I'm actually relieved. For the first time I look around. I'm amazed to see that the suite is back to normal, as if this morning never happened.

"So, will you accept this assignment 003? If you don't want to be my agente encubierto, you're free leave now and good luck. I'll simply let the 'failsafe' events take their course."

"But if you agree not to go free, there will be other rewards. I want to make up for your earlier pain and suffering and to show you what an understanding and caring mistress I can be."  

She's offering me her hand and smiling. I rise painfully to my feet. It's 'her' or 'the door' and back in that robe and obviously naked beneath it, 'her' beats 'the door' anytime.

 

 

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Travel

Russia

 

 

In June 2013 we visited Russia.  Before that we had a couple of weeks in the UK while our frequent travel companions Craig and Sonia, together with Sonia's two Russian speaking cousins and their partners and two other couples, travelled from Beijing by the trans-Siberian railway.  We all met up in Moscow and a day later joined our cruise ship.  The tour provided another three guided days in Moscow before setting off for a cruise along the Volga-Baltic Waterway to St Petersburg; through some 19 locks and across some very impressive lakes.

Read more: Russia

Fiction, Recollections & News

ChatGPT and The Craft

As another test of ChatGPT I asked it: "in 2 thousand words, to write a fiction about a modern-day witch who uses chemistry and female charms to enslave her familiars". This is one of the motifs in my novella: The Craft (along with: the great famine; world government; cyber security and overarching artificial intelligence).

Rather alarmingly, two of five ChatGPT offerings, each taking around 22 seconds to generate, came quite close to the sub-plot, although I'm not keen on the style or moralistic endings.  Here they are:

Read more: ChatGPT and The Craft

Opinions and Philosophy

Frederick Sanger - a life well spent

 

I have reached a point in my life when the death of a valued colleague seems to be a monthly occurrence.  I remember my parents saying the same thing. 

We go thought phases.  First it is the arrival of adulthood when all one's friends are reaching 21 or 18, as the case may be.  Then they are all getting married.  Then the babies arrive.  Then it is our children's turn and we see them entering the same cycle.  And now the Grim Reaper appears regularly. 

As I have repeatedly affirmed elsewhere on this website, each of us has a profound impact on the future.  Often without our awareness or deliberate choice, we are by commission or omission, continuously taking actions that change our life's path and therefore the lives of others.  Thus our every decision has an impact on the very existence of those yet to be born. 

Read more: Frederick Sanger - a life well spent

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