(Copyright 2001. All rights reserved).
All events and characters are fictitious.
* * * * *
Natasha looked with apprehension at the knife in Frederick's hand as he knelt beside her. She tried to roll onto her side away from him but he held her in place with a heavy hand between her breasts.
"What are you going to do?" Nat asked nervously. "I've done everything you've wanted. Why don't you let me go now?"
"I do not think we can do that." Frederick replied running the flat side of the blade across her nipples in turn.
Nat had to look. Amazingly her nipples were hardening, standing erect. She closed her thighs together, tightly as Frederick moved the blade to her tight stomach.
"Don't!" She pleaded.
She could feel it against her pubic hairs. Sawing back and forth. She felt him place the knife on her stomach and pull at her pubic mound for a second before letting fall a number of her short, dark, curly pubic hairs onto her breasts.
"The Americans who buy my films like their women without hairs down there. They say it makes the woman look like a little girl again. Do you want to look like a little girl again?"
"Leave me alone. Please."
"No." Frederick said moving to a position where he had full view of her ass cheeks and pussy. "You are mine, now. We will have some fun. You will be a famous movie star. Unfortunately the film will not be on general release but those who see it will really appreciate you. As I intend to."
His hand moved to the zip on his trousers and Nat watched as he released his cock and stroked it to full hardness. She felt his fingers between her legs, easing open her thighs. She knew what he was going to do and yet was unable to do anything to stop him. His fingers were on the lips of her pussy, massaging them, pulling them apart. He moved foreward, looming above her. He was looking down into her eyes with a face filled with lust.
"Time to get them both dressed," the man in the suit called from the front of the bus. "We are nearly at the studio flat."
Frederick looked back over his shoulder.
"You will have time for that later." The man said as the bus came to a halt.
Frederick cut through the tape securing her feet to her ankles and indicated her clothes.
"Get dressed." He smiled and ran a hand over her ass cheeks as she climbed stiffly to her feet and reached for them.
Hans was helping Geordie into his own clothes.
"I'm sorry Nat," Geordie said. "I wished you hadn't followed me.
Nat had already thought that. If she hadn't come then what would have happened. Geordie would have been supplied with more drugs and nobody would have been the wiser. If only she'd stayed out of it. She heard the driver and the man in the suit discussing meeting in a village in Germany. It was the one part of Germany she knew at all well having stayed there once with her parents when her father had decided they should see all the dams the RAF Dambusters had blown up during the second World War after watching the film on the TV again.
Natasha put on her panties and bra first then her blouse and finally pulled on her white jeans. She slipped on her sandals and lifted her head to see the man in the suit standing before her.
"Now Miss Wagstaffe." He said, threateningly. "You will do exactly as you are told. When we leave the bus you will walk with me to the large silver Mercedes. You will smile nicely as if you are enjoying our company. Do you understand?"
"I understand." Nat confirmed. "I need the toilet."
The man in the suit looked down at her.
"Very well," he said. "You can use the one on the bus. Frederick, you go with her."
Nat led the way down the three steps to the small cubical. The little light still worked. It had been one of their first purchases as a group. A base for travelling around the country. There were four bunk beds at the rear. This small toilet and wash hand-basin left over from it's days as a touring coach. A sofa to one side behind the driver's position and two sets of double seats with a light brown table between them. Even now they took it with them everywhere they went. Something familiar and something to remind them of their beginnings, Dave had said. And, of course, it was somewhere to have their women. And there had been a lot of women.
Turning with her back to the toilet seat she reached for the button on her jeans. Frederick was still standing with his head inside the doorway watching her.
"Go away." She said loudly.
"Come away, Frederick," she heard the man in the suit say in German. "Later, she is yours."
Frederick moved away and she heard him climb the three steps to the main body of the bus. Natasha thought for a moment of bolting the door and making them burst in to get her. But what would be the point. They could do that in seconds.
Instead she closed it and, after dropping her jeans and panties, sat on the toilet seat. She hadn't lied when she had said she needed to go. She reached forward and opened the cupboard under the sink. It was still there. Or the forth or fifth one. She took out the note-pad with its Biro attached by a piece of string to its wire hoops. They had been keeping a notebook in the toilet from the very beginning. The only place they would all be sure to visit every day. They would leave messages for each other, write song lyrics or just draw silly pictures of 'H'. She quickly turned to the last page and wrote down the name of the village that she'd heard mentioned. On the wall by the side of where she was sitting she wrote NB, NAT, 07/01. She quickly replaced the notebook and quietly closed the cupboard then, making rather more noise than was necessary, she wiped herself and pulled up her jeans and panties just as the door opened and Frederick's head appeared.
Turning away from him she flushed the toilet then made to leave. He blocked her way.
