Liverpool Airport
Her flight delay brought an intensity of panic not felt since that day six days earlier - since that moment she'd broken free.
Sitting in the Waiting Lounge, her body already sheathed in sweat from the terror that consumed her, her eyes never left the screen, focus solely on that one single word that seemed to sum up her life - delayed. Her panic quickly merged with anger; when she turned to her left to look out the window, she could see her plane, waiting to be boarded! - But when she looked towards the ground, she saw the men; workers crouched down by the wheel, laughing. Bastards! Didn't they know what they were doing to her? Didn't they know what he would do if he found her here? Her mind desperately pleaded with the men as one slowly jacked up the plane in anticipation of a tyre change... 'Hurry... please hurry! Don't let him find me, don't let him stop me from getting on that plane, please let me leave this life behind - let me leave him behind.' Vicious body shakes accompanied her sweats, both increasing in severity as more time passed, her empty stomach lurching with nausea. People surrounding her had moved, fearful of the peculiar looking woman with the plastic bags and ragged clothes. But she didn't care about them. All she cared about was the tyres on the plane and that burning need deep inside her that she finally felt compelled to release - she sat there, oblivious of her surroundings, her attention switching between plane and screen, willing for either the tyres or the word to change.
Moments felt like hours, minutes like weeks, but soon... sweet relief. The tyres were changed and, as the men gradually lowered the plane, the speaker system was announcing she could board. In that moment, her body went cold. Her panic had sent her temperature soaring as it squeezed sweat from her skin, but the instant she knew she could approach the steps that would lead her to her new life, she felt the chill of her perspiration - a visible expression of her fear. In the cold Liverpool air, she walked towards the plane releasing an uncontrollable laughter. People around her looked on, quietly praying they weren't going to be sat near her.
Flying
For Dawn Richards, the flight was a blur.
Sat at the back of the plane, she had only the reassuring smell of freshly disinfected toilets for company. Nobody approached her; nobody spoke to her (not even the Stewards, who seemed more determined than the passengers in wanting to give this strange woman a wide birth) but she didn't care. This was only her second time on a plane - and the first time had lead to an incident she was trying to forget - so she wasn't going to let the snobbery of others bother her.
Besides, Dawn Richards had finally done it. She was free.
With her body sinking into the chair, the last of the planes' wheels finally parted with the tarmac of the Liverpool runway; her new sense of freedom managing to find a comfort in the airplane chair rarely experienced by those in a more fortunate position. She melted away, her mind drifting outside the plane, gliding along on dark thunderous clouds. As she closed her eyes, she saw herself flying with the plane: smelling the crispness in the air; feeling the freezing wind as it tore through her body, ripping out her past and its horrors. She caught a glimpse of the Captain as he navigated his cargo to a new world - a world that held so much promise for Dawn. She saw streetlights below her, merging with the glares emanating from houses; all lit up like the intestines of something from a Sci-Fi Film. To Dawn Richards it was beautiful -so beautiful. Till this moment her life had been full of ugliness, but now, now she'd found her path to freedom.
As she slowly succumbed to exhaustion, Dawn Richards quietly wept, her salt tears caressing her smile.
Schippol Airport, Amsterdam
She'd been asleep only minutes but on hearing the Captain telling everyone they were approaching Amsterdam, her head jerked up - eyes open - fully rejuvenated.
She was ten minutes away.
Ten minutes.
She decided to use the time to focus her thoughts, clarify what she was going to do.
Firstly, she had to get to her hotel. She'd never been to Amsterdam before, and the only time she'd ever travelled abroad, it had been with him - and he'd done all the talking. (And all the drinking!)
Thankfully, her sister had told her what to do...
"Once you get through Passport Control (easy as long as you don't panic) and you've got your luggage, you need to get a train ticket for 'Centraal Station'. The Airport and the Train Station are all under one cover, and everyone speaks English, so you'll easily be able to get your ticket and find your Platform. Tickets are about 3 Euros. When buying, just ask for Centraal Station, One Way, and what platform.
"When you're on the Platform, you'll be amazed - the trains are double-deckers! Get on a top floor - you'll never do it in England! Anyway, you'll have about a 20-minute ride through various towns and industrial estates before you come to your final stop - 'Amsterdam Centraal'. When you leave the station, there'll be loads of taxis waiting outside. Just climb in one, tell him the name of the hotel and enjoy!"
Anxiously waiting for the wheels to connect with the ground, Dawn Richards remembered these words with vivid clarity. In her pocket she held a card with the Hotel's name written on it - her sister had given it her on leaving, telling her it would be easier to show a card than try and pronounce Dutch. She had to thank her Sister for a hell of a lot. She'd had not only saved Dawn from him (by hiding her in the basement every time he came looking for her) but she'd also insisted that Dawn visit "the Dam" and find herself. Her insistence had been so strong she'd even bought the tickets and booked the hotel. Her sister had told her that if she was going to be free, she might as well do it in the freest cities in Europe.
Her sister had told her of all the places to visit: The Red Light District, the Coffee Houses and the Sex Shops. Her sister was a regular visitor with her husband, using Amsterdam's liberty as a means of access to their own sex life. Many a time Dawn had been shocked by the toys her sister had brought back and demonstrated for her...Studded Dildos, Nipple Clamps and even Anal Starter Kits! But there was one thing that had intrigued rather than shocked. Dawn knew she should have been fearful of it - after all, he'd used similar devises on her before - but when her sister held it, gently stoking the dark leather, brushing her fingers over the handle, before bringing it down on the palm of her hand with such force that Dawn still winced when remembering the sound, she couldn't help but feel fascinated.
Dawn felt a warm glow flow through her as she recalled the image of the paddle.
She remembered the noise it made as it struck her sister's hand, the grimace on her face as pain and pleasure combined, her delightful groan as she slowly licked the palm, quietening the welt of crimson that had emerged there. Something surged through Dawn's body. Her legs became weak and there was lightness in her stomach. She needed privacy to come to terms with what she was feeling but the Seat Belt lights had just been turned on - she was supposed to 'remain seated during descent'. But she had to do something. Looking down towards the end of the plane, she could see the Stewards belted in, happily chatting away to themselves. They wouldn't notice her. She was next to the toilets, she could just sneak in and wash her face in cold water, take a breather. Prepare herself...
Nobody would notice.
Undoing her seatbelt, she crouched forward, eyes firmly fixed on the Stewards. Neither were looking at her. Now was her chance. Quickly, with a light stumble, she collapsed into the Toilet, struggling to close the door behind her spraying legs. For a moment she sat in frozen silence - the worst thing she could do was get herself thrown off a plane and deported at her first attempt at freedom...her sister would die with embarrassment, but worse still, she would be sent back to him...
Nothing.
Either the Stewards hadn't seen her or they weren't bothered. Straightening herself, she leaned against the chrome sink, trying to relax, ignoring her reflection. At first she thought she was going to vomit - the smell of disinfectant combined with that of someone else's faeces was almost too much to bear - but instead she dowsed herself with cold water, bathing her head and neck - trying to regulate her breathing. Sitting on the broken seat, she contemplated what the hell had just happened.
"Must be the excitement", she reasoned. It seemed logical enough - she was starting a new life - but there was something else, something had aroused her, brought about sensations long forgotten.
The paddle.
Instantly the warmth shot through her body, reaching from her head, past her breasts down through her stomach into her legs before returning and residing behind her knickers.
"What the hell's wrong with me?" Her thoughts had found a voice but there was no one to answer. Instead her body spoke, the warmth at the top of her legs intensifying. She quickly pulled down her skirt and flimsy white cotton knickers, assuming she needed to urinate but nothing happened. She tried to think of a waterfall or a dripping tap but instead her mind would only focus on the paddle and the echo it created when hitting flesh.
She didn't know why she had to do this, but she knew it was the only way this was going to end - opening her legs, she slowly moved her right hand over her damp pussy - brushing her index finger against the hardening nub of her clit whilst parting her hair, furtively searching for the wetness inside. As her fingernail gently scratched the tip of her most sensitive area, a power bolt of pleasure ripped through her, dislodging her from the toilet seat. Her breathing grew sharp as she intensified her fingering. Her left hand repeatedly slapped hard against her naked thigh, the crimson palm print deepening the joyful sensations rushing through her body. She rubbed harder against her clitoris, inserting more fingers inside: two, quickly followed by three, then four! The deep heat pulsating from her pussy her told her the orgasm was moments away...
Welcome to Amsterdam
Amsterdam - Bulldog
Sitting in her luxurious hotel room, Dawn Richards thought once again about what had happened on the plane - her first moments in Amsterdam, and she'd spent it in a plane toilet, masturbating over a paddle. Admittedly, it was the first time she'd had an orgasm in years, and no doubt that if she told her sister she would simply laugh it off, getting some kind of kick out of it, but it worried Dawn.
Was it normal? Was she a pervert? For an hour, Dawn contemplated these thoughts. Stepping into the shower, she looked at the parts of her body that had caused her to blush when leaving the plane lavatory. No one had noticed her returning so there was no need to feel any shame. But standing in the shower, looking at the slight bruise her slaps had given her on her thighs, Dawn wasn't so sure.
When unpacked and dressed, she contemplated her next move. It was 10 O'clock at night - early for Amsterdam. Here she was, sat on the end of the bed in a strange hotel room in a strange city, questioning herself. Anger consumed her. Why should she feel embarrassed? This time last week she was sleeping with a man who'd used her anus as a pencil sharpener. If there was anything to feel embarrassed about, having a wank on a plane wasn't one of them - all the film stars claimed to have joined the mile high club, this was just her own version. Pulling herself together, she decided she was going out - she wanted to know what freedom truly felt like.
