She was tall, beautiful, and a successful model at sixteen.
She had been beaten and forced into sex at the age of nineteen. The attack was by a prop man that worked at a large studio and he had been murdered before his case went to trial.
Suspicion had been centered on Fiona's American father but he had an airtight alibi he had been in Texas and Fiona had not told him she had been raped.
No one had been charged with the murder.
Claudette was Fiona's best friend in the business and the most responsible for helping her put the attack behind her. Claudette counseled and encouraged her for over a year before Fiona had the courage to return to work.
Claudette was the top model in London at that time. At the age of twenty-six she had made and spent a lot of money. She had partied with princes and rock stars. She knew aristocracy and mobsters.
Fiona suspected that her attackers demise had been at Claudette's request. She certainly knew people that could accomplish that.
Fiona worshipped her.
Fiona was twenty-five with a flourishing career when Claudette showed up unannounced at her flat one evening, not an unusual occurrence. She brought with her what she claimed to be the most delicious wine she had ever tasted.
Fiona did not normally drink but out of politeness she drank half a glass with Claudette, toasting her friend.
The drink had been drugged.
When Fiona regained consciousness she was naked, tied to her bed with her arms and legs spread apart. She was being slapped on her face hard.
Claudette was in the process of slapping her again when she saw Fiona's big blue eyes staring at her in shock and disbelief. Claudette gave Fiona an angry, hate filled smile then bent her head and bit one of Fiona's breasts until she had drawn blood. While savaging her breast with her teeth Claudette plunged three fingers into Fiona's pussy.
Fiona had recovered enough to realize that Claudette was also naked, that she was being forced into sex again, this time by the woman she had trusted implicitly, the woman that could have had her body just by asking.
Fiona decided that she was not going to give Claudette the pleasure of screaming or begging for mercy. She stared at Claudette in silence and endured. This seemed to infuriate Claudette and she slapped Fiona hard.
There was a short period of time when the assault stopped. Her attacker was out of Fiona's field of vision.
Fiona had hoped that it was over but soon saw that the worse was yet to come. Claudette had strapped on an impossibly large dildo and was in the process of mounting her.
The only cock of any kind to have ever penetrated Fiona's pussy had been on her late attacker.
Typically he had a small dick, which had been removed by his murderer.
Fiona did pleasure herself regularly but used only her slender fingers.
The monster cock between Claudette's legs was at least ten inches long and very wide. Fiona expected it to hurt but when Claudette forced herself into her pussy the intensity of the pain was such that Fiona briefly lost consciousness. Although she still had not made a sound she could not keep a tear from rolling down her cheek.
Claudette stopped in mid stroke and stared at the tear as it rolled down Fiona's cheek. She saw the pain in Fiona's face. She sat back and pulled the dildo out of the savaged cunt.
It was coated with blood.
Fiona had closed her eyes and had steeled herself for another penetration but instead felt Claudette leave the bed. Fiona was alone for nearly half an hour. When Claudette returned to the bedroom she was dressed and had obviously been crying. She looked at Fiona one last time and walked briskly out of the room. The last thing Fiona remembered from that night was the sound of a sob, never sure whose it was.
She awoke in a hospital bed. The nurse told her that she had been there two days and had lost a lot of blood.
"If your friend had not called the police and insisted they check on you it would have been fatal. You have a lot of stitches in you."
Fiona absorbed the data and slipped into a deep sleep.
Five months after the attack she returned to work, no longer as the beautiful girl next door but as the ice queen that none could have. Her career skyrocketed and she amassed a fortune.
There were more assaults for her to endure, the most telling one by the press. Fiona had her fill of being vulnerable and had started an intense martial arts regimen. As muscles appeared on her body the press began speculation on her sexuality and femininity. Her job offers began to dwindle.
A pleasant early June assignment in the U. S. turned ugly when a tall model from Africa physically attacked her on location in Florida. Fiona rendered her unconscious with two well-placed blows, breaking her attackers nose and a rib. Every one knew that Fiona had not initiated the fight and was simply defending herself. The other model was generally regarded as a world-class bitch.
However, the witnesses were aghast by the viciousness of the blows and as the ambulance sped away Fiona saw sympathy forming for her attacker.
That was the last straw.
She called her agency and left a message saying she had just retired.
Fiona left the South Beach location and kept driving until she found herself sitting by a river outside a small town in central Texas, her father's original home.
In her mind she thought, "This is far enough."
