Fitting up Kati

Katie Fuller checked her makeup in the mirror in the airport bathroom.
As usual, like everything else about her, it was perfect.  It needed
to be.  She was a twenty-five year old corporate lawyer clawing her
way up the greasy pole in a man's world and she needed every advantage
that nature had provided her with.  To that she added a few tricks of
her own.

She was concluding a whistlestop tour of the Far East, visiting the
subsidiary companies that produced the gew-gaws sold in the United
States as all-American products.  Her job was to ensure that product
marking and identification matched those required by the US customs
service and the various regulating bodies.  It was a boring but
necessary job, and Katie saw it as a method of advancement so she was
dogged in her determination to do well.  Katie was going places and
was tipped for the fast track.  Graduating maxima cum laude from
Harvard helped, as did her first assignment to a prestigious New York
corporate law office.  She had been seconded after a year to an
equally prestigious multi-national corporation with the promise of a
junior partnership when she returned.

She was a very attractive blond, five feet six inches tall with a
33-24-34 figure on which her cream business suit clung like a second
skin.  Her hair was cut short and bobbed to suit her status.  Her
face, once honest and open, now had a wily furtiveness about it.  In
short she was bedding down well into her job.

She sighed as she felt the sticky heat settling on the top of her
thighs.  Her body screamed at her to shed her pantyhose as the
stifling humidity cocooned on her like a hot, wet blanket.  Divesting
herself of her pantyhose didn't fit in with the cool aura  she had
adopted for her job so she mentally shrugged and tried to think of
something else as she waited for her flight.

She'd asked the taxi driver to wait and look after her luggage
immediately on her arrival at the airport as she had to answer a call
of nature.  She hadn't even had time to check in as the pressure in
her bladder increased uncomfortably during her ride to the airport
through the snarling, disordered traffic.  Now, with one last pat of
her hair, she was ready to enter the mainstream of humanity again.

The taxi driver was talking earnestly to what looked like a fellow
westerner, as she approached.  He turned and smiled when the taxi
driver indicated her approach.

"Hello.  I'm Julian Westerbrook."  He held out his hand.

"Katie Fuller."

"Ah, an American!  And what brings you to this cesspool, I wonder?" he
mused sardonically.

"I don't think it's any of your business," she snapped irritably. the
prickly heat shortening her temper.

"Oh, I'm sorry.  It's just a case of two western corks bobbing in a
sea of Asiatic faces that might wile away the inevitable delays by
having a civilising conversation together.  Possibly even a coffee.
I'm not trying to, as you Americans so nicely put it, 'hit on you'.
I'm probably not even going to the same place as you, so a mad
passionate relationship isn't really on the cards.  Anyway, it is
quite unusual to see a western woman travelling alone in these climes,
so I'm afraid my English curiosity got the better of me.  If I am
annoying you then please accept my apologies as I take my leave." He
turned to go and Katie put her hand gently on his arm.

"I'm sorry, it's this heat.  It's making me a little cranky."

"I quite understand, my dear." He could get away with calling her 'my
dear'.  He was tall, white-haired and patrician.  His seersucker suit
looked immaculate and he himself looked calm and unbothered by the
crushing heat.  He looked like everyone's favourite uncle and Katie
started to warm to him.

"Listen, I'd love that coffee.  I just need to check in."

"Oh, don't worry about that," he said.  "I'll get one of the porters
to do it for you."  Then without waiting for a reply he signalled one
of the porters who stood lounging by a pillar nearby.  His grasp of
the local language was credible as he indicated what he wanted the man
to do, sealing the exchange with a high denomination note.  He asked
her for her ticket and in turn handed it to the porter.

"There.  All done.  He'll bring our boarding passes to us in the
coffee lounge."

"Look, I'm not sure about this.  I've got, er, valuable stuff in those
cases."

"They'll be fine,"  he assured her, guiding her towards the coffee
area.  He couldn't help but notice that she kept glancing back, as her
cases disappeared into the swirling crowds around the check in desks.

He turned out to be a charming and erudite companion throughout the
interminable and unannounced delays.  Finally his flight was called
and he kissed her hand as he made his way to the departure gate.
Katie smiled briefly as he disappeared into the maelstrom around the
departure desk.
 Her flight was called half an hour later.  She stood patiently in the
heaving scrum they jokingly called a lineup around here, until she
reached passport control.  The officer on the desk glanced at her
picture then up at her.  He beckoned a security guard over and said to
her, in perfect English,

"There is a little matter with which you can help us.  If you would
like to accompany the guard I'm sure it will be cleared up in no
time."

"What's the problem?" she said, her anger starting to boil again.

"I've no idea.  I'm sure you will be told.  Please accompany the
guard."

Katie didn't want to make a fool of herself in front of the rest of
the passengers so she allowed herself to be led down a corridor off
the main concourse until they reached an unmarked door.  The guard
knocked and bade her enter.  He then stood outside.

Inside there were two men, one sitting behind a desk and the other,
complete with mirrored sunshades, standing mutely in the corner.  Her
suitcases were arranged on the table.

"I'm sorry to inconvenience you, Miss Fuller, but our X-ray machine
has picked up a strange object that we cannot identify in your
luggage.  So, if you would be so kind as to open your cases we can
check it out and you can be on your way.  With all this international
terrorism about we cannot be too careful," he concluded with the
merest hint of a smile.

Fighting down her anger she stepped towards the cases.

"First of all, Miss Fuller, I must ask you to identify these cases as
belonging to you."

"Yes, they're mine.  Look, they have my name tags on them."

"Excellent.  And did you pack them yourself?"

"Yes."

"Did anyone help you to pack them?"

"No!  Now listen, what is this all about?"

"I'm sorry.  Let me show you."

He held up a photograph, obviously printed from the X-ray machine.  He
pointed towards a long tubular shaped object which clearly had wires
and batteries inside it.  Suddenly, with a blush, Katie realised what
it was.  It was her vibrator.

"Er, it's a personal, er, massager," she stammered.

"Ah, I see.  If you would be so kind as to show me then I will let you
get on your way."

Katie fumbled with the locks, failing to notice the slight scratches
around the keyholes, then sprung the catches open.  She started to
take out her neatly folded clothes as the men stood impassively
watching her.  She picked up a suit jacket and its unaccustomed weight
caused her to fumble. The jacket fell to the floor spilling out two
bags of what looked like talcum powder.  She picked up the bags in
puzzlement.

Then all hell broke loose.

**********************************************

"I want to call the Consul," she said as the Police Inspector glared
at her.

"You will do what you are told.  The consulate has already made its
views known about what it thinks about drug smugglers."

"There must have been a mistake.  That stuff wasn't mine."

"Are these your cases?"

"Yes.  But...."

"And did you pack them?"

"Yes.  I..."

"And did you have the only keys?"

"I...."

"And didn't we find your fingerprints on the bags containing the
drugs?"

"Yes.  But..."

"And only your fingerprints!"

"They must have....."

"Then there is no mistake." He concluded with a smug smile.

She slumped down on the hard chair, defeated.  Things looked bad.

"Now we need to ensure that you have no more hidden contraband on
you."

"You've already torn my cases apart," she said, ruefully surveying the
remains of her Samsonites.  Guaranteed to survive storm, earthquake
and flood but not, apparently, Asian customs officers.

"Now we search you."

She leapt to her feet.  "Now wait a goddamned minute.  You aren't
touching me without at least a lawyer present."

He slammed both hands down hard on the table, the retort sounding like
a pistol shot in the small, stuffy room.

"You are not in a position to demand anything.  You are smuggling
drugs, which, in this country, is punishable by death.  Didn't you see
the signs? 'Dada is Death'.  Don't you know what that means? When you
are found guilty then you die.  Your life is worth this <He snapped
his fingers>.  You have no rights.  You have nothing.  Stop
snivelling, Yankee bitch.  You knew the risks you were taking.  Now we
will search you.  I suggest you do not make things worse."

Katie struggled to comprehend what had happened to her.  An hour ago
she was a bright, ambitious lawyer now she was a drug smuggler.  But
how? She knew she must try to co-operate, anything less would make her
appear more guilty than ever.  She lifted her chin and stared at him.

"Are you ready to cooperate?"

She nodded wearily.

"Good. Now you will take off your clothes and they will be sent for
laboratory analysis.  We have heard that drug smugglers often soak
their clothes in a solution of the drug so we will be testing for
traces of it on your clothes."

"But there will be some on me.  One of the bags split when I dropped
it and..."

"So you admit it, do you?"

"No.  But...."

"Stop your whining and take off your clothes."

Katie looked around the room at the stony faced policemen,  unwilling
to reveal herself in front of all these men.  She'd only been seen
naked by three men in her life and one of those was her father when
she was small, so she had no desire to double that number in the space
of a few minutes.

"Can't I go behind a screen or something?" she pleaded.

"So you can dispose of more contraband?  No, you will do it here."

"Can't I at least have a female officer present?"

He scowled then picked up the phone.  Moments later a huge, sour faced
woman entered, a plain prison gown draped over her arm.

Katie waited for the men to leave.

"Get on with it," the inspector snarled impatiently.

"Can't you get the men to leave?"

"No, I can't.  I need them as witnesses.  Now get on with it or we
will do it for you."

Katie looked around hopelessly, then started to unbutton her jacket.
She shrugged it off and one of the guards snatched it from her and put
it in a bag with a number stencilled on it.  Katie was enough of a
lawyer to recognise an evidence bag when she saw it.  Her white blouse
and skirt quickly followed and she stood clad only in pantyhose and
bra, hoping that they would be satisfied.

"All of it." 

Blushing furiously she unclasped her bra.  Her hands cupped her
breasts protectively as the straps fell away.  For a long second she
stared at the inspector who surveyed her coolly.  Then, with a flick
of his finger, he indicated that she should hand it over.

It was the most humiliating moment in her life and it was to get
worse.  She could hear the heavy breathing of the policemen as the
inspector indicated that she should remove her pantyhose.

Taking a deep breath, and closing her eyes, she pushed the sheer nylon
over the swell of her hips, revealing her blond bush to the fat,
perspiring policeman.  Trying hard not to cry she continued pushing it
down over her legs until she was naked.  As soon as she handed the
pantyhose over she adopted the classic pose with one arm over her
breasts with her other hand covering her bush.

"Put you hands on your head," he ordered.

Giddy with shame she complied, revealing herself to his lustful eyes.
He nodded to one of the policemen and he pulled on a pair of
industrial strength latex gloves.  He came up beside her and prying
open her mouth he probed around inside.  The latex tasted oily on her
dry tongue and she concentrated hard so as not to retch as he touched
the entrance to her throat.  He held her mouth open as the other
policeman took a photograph of her oral cavity.

Next he photographed her breasts.  Katie couldn't understand what was
going on but submitted stoically.  Then a hand in the middle of her
back pushed her down across the table.

"What are you doing?" she cried as she tried to squirm away.

"Keep still.  We know that many females carry contraband this way, so
now we must conduct an internal search."

"Please!  Is that necessary?  I promise I haven't got anything in me."
She shuddered at the thought of putting drugs inside her body.  She
didn't even drink and drugs were abhorrent to her.

"We cannot trust you.  So open your legs or I will put it in my report
that you were unco-operative and were obviously trying to hide
something."

So Katie lay naked and spread on the inspector's table.  She heard the
snick of the shutter and the light of the flash as they photographed
her secret parts.  Then she felt the finger of the policeman touching
her vagina.  It rubbed up and down, obviously trying to get her moist
so his penetration would be easier.  She cringed in embarrassment as
she felt her body starting to respond.  It had been so long since she
had felt the touch of a male hand on her pussy she couldn't help but
get aroused.  The guard said something and the other policeman
laughed, even the inspector allowed a grin to show.  The policewoman
took over the scowling duties.

Finally the finger intruded and she moaned in humiliation and perverse
arousal as it pushed inside.  It pumped in and out briefly then
withdrew leaving her panting.  It then sought out her anus.  She had
never been touched there before and she whimpered in anticipation as
it started to push inside.  It barely entered her then withdrew before
plunging again into her pussy.  A couple of pumps then it pressed
against her asshole again.  With a flash of clarity she understood
what was happening.  The policeman was milking her pussy of its juices
to make his ingress into her ass easier on her.  This continued for a
couple of minutes.  Ass, Pussy, Ass, Pussy.  Each time he assaulted
her pussy she became more aroused and her shame grew.

Finally he pushed it hard into her and groped around for a few seconds
before withdrawing.  She was allowed to stand as they photographed her
naked body from various angles.  She was given a powerful enema and a
diuretic and they all stood and watched her as she purged her body.

The policewoman handed her the gown, which barely covered the tops of
her thighs.  Then she was led out to be transported to the jail.

***********************************************

"It doesn't look so good, I'm afraid." 

Katie groaned inwardly as she realised that this smarmy idiot was all
that was keeping her from the gallows.  He was the lawyer appointed by
the court and was her only hope.  The firm she had been seconded to
had, at first, been sympathetic and had instructed their agent to get
her the finest legal help available.  They then got wind of the
evidence against her and back-pedalled furiously.  They didn't want to
be linked with what on the face of it, looked like a straight forward
case of drug smuggling.  That didn't fit in with their image at all..
They tossed the ball at her firm who promptly washed their hands of
her, instantly terminating her contract.  She had no family and her
so-called friends disappeared like one of Bill's cigars when Hilary
entered the room.  In accordance with international treaties her
assets were all frozen.  So she had no access to any funds.  She was
on her own.

"So what have you heard?"

He spread his hand expansively.  Then proceeded to pick off the points
on his fingers with exaggerated gestures.

"First off all they found the drugs in your suitcase which you
admitted to packing and for which there was only one set of keys,
which you admitted never left your possession.  Then there were only
your prints on the drug bags, nobody else's."

"That's because I picked them up when they fell on the floor."

"So you say.  Even if that is true the customs officers are hardly
likely to admit it are they?  This is the biggest haul they have ever
made at the airport and they are all feeling very pleased with
themselves.  They wouldn't want to let this slip through their fingers
on a mere technicality."

Katie stared open-mouthed at him.  He sounded more like the
prosecution lawyer than the good guy.  He continued.

"They also found traces of the drug on your clothes and on your
hands."

"I told you about that.  One of the bags split."

"I've seen the bags, none of them were split."

"I..er..," she stammered in confusion.  If they had managed to conceal
that then she was truly in the shit.

"Finally the United States Government has pledged an enormous amount
of money to help us with our 'drugs problem'.  So our government want
to see some successes and, as an American, you fit the political bill
rather nicely."

He was right, it did look bad.

She'd only been here a month but it seemed like a lifetime to her.
She was kept in solitary confinement in a cell she could barely move
in, with only the roaches for company.  The guards were not unkind,
but merely ignored her for 23 hours in the day.  There must be some
way of proving her innocence.  Then it came to her.

"There was a time when I was away from my bags.  Two times in fact.
That must have been when the drugs were transferred.  Yes that's it.
That limey!  He must have something to do with it."

"A limey?"

"Yes, an Englishman.  What the hell was his name? It was a typical
pompous Brit name.  Justin, no, Julius.  No, I've got it, Julian,
Julian Westerbrook.  If you find him then you've got the real
smuggler.  He probably got his henchmen to plant the stuff on me and
recover it when I reached the states.  Find him.  Please find him."

"I'll see what I can do."

***********************************************

The trial had been a formality with all the evidence piled against
her.

Things were looking really bad then they hit rock bottom when the
prosecution produced their star witness.  He was the local DEA case
officer, seconded from British Customs.  He looked even more
patrician, and he smiled grimly at her, as he was cross examined.

Needless to say she was found guilty.

Tearfully she was marched back to her cell to await the sentencing.

************************************************

"The sentence will be announced tomorrow," declared her lawyer.

"What do you think?" She already knew, but hoped against hope.

"I think it will be bad.  But don't worry, we can appeal.  I am hoping
to find the taxi driver."

"What about the American Embassy?"

The lawyer looked embarrassed.

"They said that they wouldn't interfere with the internal affairs of a
sovereign state.  In other words they have disowned you."

She buried her head in her hands.

"Oh God, what can I do? I'm innocent.  I didn't do it."

She saw him smirking.

The lawyer in her understood exactly what he was thinking. She'd heard
it all before when she attended the criminal trials as part of her
legal training.  They were ALL innocent.  Nobody who lawyers came into
contact with, as defendants, ever admitted their crime.  

Her counsel waited until her sobs subsided then confided,

"I have some more bad news, I'm afraid.  Now that the case has been
lost their are no more funds available to pay me.  So I must take my
leave.  Unless of course you can pay me.?"

"What? They can't do that.  That's not justice."

"It is here.  Now can you pay me or not?"

"I can't.  I haven't got any money, all my funds have been frozen
pending the outcome of the trial.  They'll probably be confiscated now
as I've been convicted.  How can I pay you?" she wailed.

He pretended to think for a while, then said, slowly,  "There is a
way."

"How?"

"In the way that women have always rewarded men who have worked on
their behalf."

"What?  You mean...?  Oh, no.  Oh, no."

Ten minutes later she lay naked and stretched out on the filthy floor
as the man thrust inside her, his belly slapping on her stomach with a
wet, farting sound, his hands mauling her breasts.  The tears poured
out of her eyes as she felt him stiffen and spurt inside her.

She wasn't on the Pill.

***********************************************

The traffic was horrendous as the police van honked its way towards
the court, a jeep full of policemen leading the way.

As they neared an intersection a bullock cart overturned on the
junction, scattering farm produce all over the road.

The policemen in the lead jeep got out and went forward to restore
order.  Suddenly masked figures dashed out of an alley and coshed the
driver and guard of the police van, while two other figures pried open
the backdoors with a jemmy.

They pulled her out, leg irons clanking, and dragged her down an
alley.

In less than a minute she was gone.

***********************************************

Hoc Tran gazed impassively across the table towards her.  She shifted
from foot to foot as the chains rubbed her ankles raw.  She had
travelled for two days, hidden in the back of a truck as it grumbled
its way along the pot-holed roads.  She was still clad in her brief
prison uniform and her irons.  She was dirty and she smelled awful.
Finally he spoke.

"You have caused me to lose many thousands of dollars through your
stupidity."

"What?  How?"

"If you hadn't packed that false penis then you would have got away
and my men could have retrieved my goods once you were safely in the
United States."

"You bastard!" she cried as she tried to leap across the desk at him.
One of his guards pulled her effortlessly away and forced her down
onto her knees.

Hoc Tran smiled, his gold tooth glinting in the flat glare of the
room.

"No. I am just a businessman and businessmen have to be ruthless at
times, if they are to be successful.  Now I must recover my property.
Maybe I cannot obtain the drugs but I can get the money back that you
have cost me, which is why I arranged your escape.  If I am not seen
to be taking steps to recover my money then I will lose face amongst
my associates and that is very bad for business."

"How am I supposed to help you?"

"You are an American.  All American women are whores so I am just
giving you the chance to do what comes naturally."

"WHAT?  You want me to become a whore?  No fucking way.  I'm not doing
that for you or anybody"

He shrugged, unruffled by her outburst.

"You are not in a position to object.  The death sentence was passed
on to you in absentia.  See, I can speak like a lawyer too.  So the
authorities want you back.  Big loss of face you escaping like that,
no appeal now, no way.  You go back you die.  My way you live.  With a
sore pussy sure, but at least you live."

She gaped at him as her mind worked furiously.  She couldn't escape.
For a start she didn't know where she was, second, she'd have not only
the police after her but this guy's thugs as well.  She had no friends
and she was half-naked and chained.  It was hopeless.  She'd have to
submit whilst she searched for a way out of this mess.

"So do you want to live?" 

She nodded.

"Then you must start to learn your new craft and <he unbuttoned the
fly on his camouflage trousers> I will help you to learn.  You may
start by sucking this."

She shook her head furiously.  "No way.  I've never done that, even
with men I like."

He nodded to his men and they forced her head towards his crotch.
When her mouth was inches from his penis he lifted her head and looked
down into her eyes.

"You will either suck me or I will hand you over to my men.  There are
several hundred of them and they will appreciate a Yankee whore.  Now,
which is it to be?"

She considered the alternatives and self-preservation came out on top.
Getting serially gang-raped really was a fate worse than death.  She
almost wished she hadn't escaped now.

Her mouth moved forward and engulfed his penis.

********************************************

It was a typical Soldier's bar.  Garish lighting, loud music,
semi-naked girls and, when the action started to flag, a more than
explicit floorshow.

Katie, or Tammy. as she was now known, waited in the alcove they
laughingly called a dressing room.  It was her turn next.  Her
trainer, a petite and iron-willed Vietnamese, stood next to her, whip
in hand.  It was time to see if the training had truly paid off.

Hoc Tran had chosen her trainer well.  The girl's mother had been
gangraped by American soldiers.  Now she was able to reciprocate, by
proxy.  Tammy-Slut represented the whole American nation to her and it
was payback time.

Day after day Katie was whipped and raped until she willingly
performed the most depraved tasks.  Day after day of poor food and
constant abuse.  Over a dozen men a day shoved their filthy cocks into
every available orifice in her body.  Day after day her trainer stood
over her, 'correcting' her mistakes with her whip,  teaching her how
to best use her body for the pleasure of men.  Day after day of lack
of sleep and continuous torture, until she was dazed and confused and
begged for mercy.  Promising anything just to stop the abuse.

Now it was time to see if she really was broken.

The MC stepped on stage and announced Tammy-Slut and Mistress Dep.

The whip stung Katie's ass cheeks, urging her onto the stage.  She
could see the outlines of the soldiers beyond the bright lights of the
stage, as they crowded around waiting for her humiliation.

The MC kept up a barrage of light-hearted patter as Mistress Dep
forced her through a series of humiliating sexual positions.  Katie
tried to keep the plastic smile plastered over her beautiful face as
she inserted various objects into her body for the amusement of the
crowd.  Inside she was cringing like a little girl as she plumbed the
depths of her own personal hell.  The whip played constantly over her
naked body, each time adding a firey stripe to her pale torso.

Then the finale.  

Katie had a belt strapped tightly to her waist on which there were two
stirrups fitted, which bounced merrily on her hips.  Mistress Dep
forced her to straddle a long, thick dildo that had been bolted to a
stool.  With a series of loud cracks the whip forced her to lower her
body onto the dildo until about six inches of it had penetrated her.

The crowd was shouting and making ribald comments as she squatted in
crimson mortification.  This was her personal nadir, when she finally
slipped from her Katie Fuller personae, bright, articulate and learned
down to Tammy the Barslut, who only existed to allow the pleasurable
use of her holes.

Mistress Dep cracked her whip and Katie dutifully bounced.

When Katie reached an acceptable speed Mistress Dep placed her feet in
the stirrups and hauled herself upright.  The strain on Katie's thighs
was enormous as she was forced to carry their combined weights in
order to prevent herself being ruptured by the 18" long dildo.  The
whip continued to slash across her body as Mistress Dep forced her
crotch into Katie's face.  Even though they had practised this many
times Katie still balked at the thought of performing a degrading
lesbian act in front of an audience of horny men.  A few well-placed
strokes across her back temporarily cured her of her aversion and
before long she suckled Mistress Dep's pussy like a pro.

The chanting of the crowd grew louder as Mistress Dep urged her to go
faster with pulls on the chains connected to her breasts which she was
now using as handles to pull Katie's mouth harder into her pussy.
Faster and faster Katie bounced and faster and faster she deep-tongued
Dep's pussy, until, finally, the Vietnamese girl shuddered and cried
out, clamping Katie's head to her sweaty thighs as she spent herself.

The crowd went wild as Dep stepped off and pulled Katie upright
causing her to moan in shame and pain as the dildo popped free from a
her body with an audible squelch.

Mistress Dep acknowledged the roar of the crowd, by bowing her head
and forcing Katie to kneel and touch her head to the floor in
supplication.

Katie was  given a few minutes to clean herself up, apply her makeup
and dress herself in the ultra mini wraparound cloth that was her only
permitted clothing.  She was then ushered into the bar.

Her quota was at least five men per night.

Mistress Dep made sure she didn't fail to reach her target.

***********************************************

Julian Westerbrook settled back in the deep leather of the Police
Commander's visitor's chair.  He had started to get reports back from
the agent he had infiltrated into one of the main trafficking groups
in the country and he was here to provide an update and to gauge the
Police reaction.

"So what do you think?" he asked mildly.

"It certainly looks like the heroin comes from up country." The
commander admitted.

Julian didn't allow his annoyance to show.  That much had been known
for months.  The question was, who was behind it all?  He decided to
change the subject.

"Have you finished interrogating that doctor?"

"Yes.  The final report will be completed tomorrow.  He didn't admit
anything, but then they never do, do they?"  A faint smile.

Alarm bells were starting to ring in Julian's mind.  The doctor, a
young Frenchman serving with Medicines Sans Frontieres had been caught
at the airport with nearly two Kilos of pure grade A heroin concealed
amongst his medical supplies.  The sniffer dog, specially trained in
London and supplied after the Katie Fuller affair, had found the
drugs.  The doctor had protested vehemently, to no avail.  In all
aspects it mirrored what had happened to Katie.

At a whim he decided to drop down and look at the remains of her
suitcases.  

A thoughtful frown creased his face as he left the air-conditioned
sanctuary of the central police station and plunged into the swirling
humanity.

********************************************

Hoc Tran glared at the customs officer.

"This is most unfortunate.  Two consignments have now been lost.  Do
you realise how much money that has cost me?"

The terrified official squirmed in his chair, then, raising his hands
in supplication he said.

"But twenty consignments have been safely delivered."

Hoc Tran pulled out his pistol and pointed it between the quaking
official's eyes.

"It is still ten per cent.  How am I supposed to run a business with
losses of ten per cent, you worthless dog?  I pay you to ensure there
are no problems.  So now there are problems.  How are you going to
deal with them?"

"It's not my fault they have brought over a sniffer dog.  It can find
the merchandise wherever we hide it.  Also one of the baggage handlers
nearly got caught breaking open a suitcase last week.  Things are
getting too hot, we must stop shipping for a while."

"Stop snivelling, you piece of shit!  My agents in the US need
constant supplies if we are to break into the west coast market and
you are telling me to stop.  Just find a way to continue the supplies
or you and your family will be finding a new home.  In the harbour."

With a flick of his fingers he dismissed the sweating official.

*******************************************

John Smith felt a lump rising in his throat as he surveyed the empty
cage of his beloved Buster.  He had hand-raised him from puppyhood
until they became one of the most formidable search teams that British
Customs had ever produced.

Over 40 million dollars worth of cocaine and heroin had been seized at
their main base in Dover before they were seconded out here.  He'd
even managed to detect cocaine in a crate of ground coffee, a feat
considered impossible by most law enforcement agencies.

Now he was gone.

'Bastards,' he thought.  'Miserable rotten bastards.'

Overcome by emotion he sat down and wept.

********************************************

Tammy stood impassively, her bimbo smile plastered like makeup on her
face as the customer pumped his finger in and out of her cunt.  He
muttered something and she opened her legs wider to allow him better
access.

Finally he rose and pushed her towards one of the booths at the back
of the bar, his hand fondling her buttocks incessantly as they went.

Dep smiled.

*******************************************

Julian Westerbrook had a formidable panoply of resources available to
him.  As the front man for both the local DEA team and the British
Effort.  Men, arms and money were all at his disposal and at his
discretion.  Usually they were involved in the painstaking process of
building up a case against local drug barons, providing enough
concrete evidence such that they couldn't wriggle out from under, with
the connivance of various corrupt officials and a Government not
overly concerned with prosecuting its own nationals.  Much better if
the problem could be laid at the door of foreigners.  Better politics.
Bigger face.

Now he started to focus his teams.  Like a terrier down a foxhole he
wouldn't let go.

For weeks he infiltrated his agents into the airport, probing at the
soft underbelly where security was lax at best, hideously corrupt at
worst.

Finally the breakthrough came.  As usual it came on the off-chance
when one of his agents observed a baggage handler picking the lock of
a businessman's suitcase.  Careful observation led to a senior customs
official.

Julian still didn't pounce.  He wanted Mr. Big, whoever he was, and he
could afford to wait.

*********************************************

The new dog act had proved to be very popular.  The dog itself, a huge
brute of indeterminate breed - who answered, curiously, to the name
Buster - had one outstanding feature and that was currently being
pumped furiously inside Tammy's cunt as the crowd howled its
appreciation.

Katie's personality surfaced occasionally, but less and less as time
wore on and the humiliations increased.  Now she was trying hard to
suppress it, and her shame, as she bucked back against the dog.

"Fuckee Doggy.  Fuckee Doggy." She chanted as the brute pummelled her
sore body with its massive prick.

As she felt the knot expand and the thin seed spurting deep inside,
she wondered if it wouldn't have been better to have died on the
gallows than to suffer this.

Finally the dog pulled free, slopping its juices down her thighs to
the delight of the customers.  Her ordeal, for tonight at least, was
nearly over.

Now all she needed to do was to find at least 5 men who were willing
to fuck her.

*******************************************

The Police Commander got wind of the operation and, unbeknown to
Julian, decided to raid the airport, arresting the customs officer
plus other assorted individuals.  They even managed to sweep up two of
Julian's agents in the dragnet.

Julian was, to put it mildly, furious.  Now he'd have an even harder
time trying to get to the ringleaders.

The one bright spot was the fact that one of the baggage handlers
admitted to putting the drugs into the cases of unsuspecting
travellers, usually travelling to the west coast of the US or to
Japan.  In this way he vindicated both the Doctor and Katie Fuller.
Both were granted a full pardon, although Katie would still have to
answer to the charges of escaping from police custody.

The question was, how was he to let her know?  And, more to the point,
where the hell was she?

****************************************

Hoc Tran was equally furious and convinced himself he had been
betrayed.  So he picked up the customs officer's wife and her two
young daughters.  They too would learn the lessons Katie had learned
in serving men.

He had already considered a sideline in hard-core pornography, of a
kind that was both illegal and dangerous to produce in the US.  Now he
pressed ahead with his plans.  The revenues from this venture would
help to bankroll a new supply route to replace the one compromised by
the Police action.

Advertising would be via the Web and the merchandise would be shifted
via front men in Tokyo.

Katie was to become a film star.

******************************************

Justin Donnelly furtively pointed his news browser at
Alt.Binaries.Pictures.Erotica.Bestiality.

It was lucky he had his own office.  He was sure the senior partners
wouldn't be particularly amused to find him scanning pictures of women
with dogs, especially on company time.

He was searching for the infamous pictures of Linda Lovelace.  So he
was mildly excited as he noticed some new scans coming up.  About time
too!  He don't know who that redhead was but she'd had more bandwidth
than The Beatles.

The first picture jogged his memory.  The second started his heart
beating faster.  By the time he had downloaded the last of them his
heart was racing.

It was Katie, he was sure of it.  Cool, beautiful Katie.  The girl he
had dreamed of inviting out on a date.  Now here she was, fucking dogs
and God knows what else besides.

He printed the pictures out and purged them from his hard drive.

He leaned back in his chair and stared at the ceiling as he wondered
what to do.

********************************************

Katie soon got used to the cameras.  It seemed easier, somehow, to be
fucking and sucking for the benefit of the dark eye than for a bunch
of coarse men.

She felt sorry for the eldest daughter of the customs officer, but she
tried to push it to the back of her mind.  If they didn't make their
lesbian tryst realistic then they would both suffer.  She moaned
theatrically as she massaged the girl's virgin breasts.

"White on Brown!"  Another classic was being born.

***********************************************

A routine intercept at Tokyo airport, based on an anonymous tip-off
from New York,  threw up a case full of pornographic films of the
hardest kinds.

Usually it wouldn't have concerned the DEA but one of the video cases
had a fine dusting of heroin on it.

A low-grade report was issued to all stations in the pacific about a
possible link.

It took nearly two months to reach Julian Westerbrook's office.  One
of his men was about to file the report when he noticed the blond
woman featured in one of the more seamy films.  With considerable
acuity he followed it up and compared the poorly-faxed photograph with
those in their territory files.  The girl looked older and more
unkempt than the police photos of Katie, but there was no mistaking
her perfect features.

He hurried into Julian's office.

***********************************************

Tammy lay in her narrow cot staring at the ceiling.  It was just after
dawn and the sounds of the camp coming to life drifted through the
woven walls.

She'd been here for 9 months now and had completed the whole lexicon
of sexual acts.  There was hardly a type of large mammal alive that
hadn't put its penis inside her or against her, usually for the
benefit of the cameras.

Her old life seemed so far away now.  It was as if it had never
happened.

She wondered what her reaction would be if the authorities came here
and tried to arrest her.  In the beginning the acts they forced her to
do were so horrendously depraved that she would have gladly submitted,
even if it meant the hangman's rope.  Now she was not so sure.  She
had become inured to the constant assaults upon her and she now viewed
life as being more precious than her humiliation.

Dep, while not actually growing to like her, at least treated her like
a human being.  A sub-human to be sure, but one that was at least
capable of sentient rationality.

She realised that she had grown used to the life and, whilst she
didn't enjoy it, she at least tolerated it.  Once the social taboos
had broken down then even the most evil acts became acceptable, even
normal.

One thing kept her going.  When the girls became too old or
unattractive for the bar they would be thrown out to fend for
themselves.  So one day, in a few years maybe, she too would be tossed
out.  By then, the authorities would surely have forgotten about her
and she could find a way of escaping back to the States.

Exactly how she would do it never occurred to her.  She wasn't
required to think much in this job, in fact it was positively
discouraged, so she didn't tend towards mulling things through to
their conclusion.

Free.  Free.  One day she would be free.  That's all that mattered.

********************************************

The raid was meticulously planned and, unusually, it wasn't leaked.  

At dawn the soldiers attacked the perimeter of the camp with their
heavy weapons as the choppers swooped in.  Fighting flared up all over
the camp with the druglord's men fighting fanatically.  They knew what
capture meant.

They nearly turned the attack, but reinforcements of heavily armoured
police arrived and the counter-attack was blunted.  The rebels were
forced back to a couple of strongpoints.

The bar girls were terrified as the rattle of machine guns and the
crump of explosives drew closer.

Katie had forced her way into Hoc Tran's office and was scouring his
desk for a weapon of some kind.  Finally she found an old British army
service revolver and she held it to her chest as she hid behind the
stout desk.

The door crashed open, making her whimper in fear.  She risked a
glance over the desk and gaped open mouthed at the figure standing in
front of her.

It was Julian Westerbrook.

She held the revolver out in front of her.  There was no way he was
going to take her now.  Not after what she'd been through just to
survive.

"Katie.  I've come to take you back.  You are......"

He never finished his sentence as the shot rang out in the tiny room,
temporarily rendering her deaf.

So she never heard him whisper that she was now free.

********************************************

Jowtown had a particularly depressing air about it when seen in the
alcohol-free clear light of day.  Litter blew around the cracked and
pot-holed streets and the early morning whores blinked owlishly in the
unaccustomed light.  Meanwhile the raucous clamour of a city choking
on its own fumes was in full swing even at this early hour.  A nervous
Katie was ushered into a newly refurbished Candyland where she was
confronted by the hard, feline eyes of her new mistress, who was
tapping her whip lightly against her long, lean, leg.

"Another yankee whore!" she spat disgustedly.  "We buy you cheap, you
no good now your owner in plison and governmen' want to get rid of
their mistake.  So Candyland your new home, so govermen' happy, sell
cheap.  Now you mine and you fuck hard for me or I whip you.  Take
clothes off, ret me see." 

Katie hesitated and was rewarded with a searing stripe on her thigh.

"You will rearn to do what I say.  You unerstan?"

Katie nodded tearfully and quickly pulled off her skimpy clothing.
Mistress Tam walked slowly around her, searching for blemishes in her
perfect young body.  Even she was impressed.  This one would make a
good addition to the bar.  Vopat would be pleased.  She turned to a
bikini-clad woman who was standing in the shadows.

"You got new girlfren' now.  You pray new game with her.  Many people
rike you two.  You take her now and show."

The statuesque blonde stepped forward, out of the shadows.  Her grace
and poise in direct contrast to the general air of shabbiness about
the place.  Katie looked stunned and miserable.  She had survived one
horror only to end up embroiled back in another.  The girl noticed her
expression and immediately felt sorry for her, she reminded her so
much of her own daughter.  Reaching forward she touched Katie's hair
tenderly and then took her hand.

Annie, the former Roxanne Bodwell, led Katie away to her new life.

********************************************** Watch out for the
sequel.   Coming to your screens shortly!