Free The Contract by Sarah Fisher Page A

girl's exposed back.
    Emily screamed and instinctively hunched, throwing herself forward. Leonora wasn't put off; with deadly accuracy she struck again, lifting a second red weal across the girl's spine. Emily sobbed, trying to roll out from under the whip's scorching kiss. As she moved she exposed her newly pierced breasts. The whip's hot tongue exploded across their peaks, wrenching a gut curdling scream from the writhing creature.
    Leonora glanced at Max. His eyes were bright with expectation. Kai was still looking down but her rapid breathing announced her own excitement. Emily began to try and crawl away – the whip exploded again across her back.
    "What is the first rule?" said Leonora coldly.
    Emily's answer was a miserable sob.
    The whip cracked again. "What is the first rule? Answer me or I will give you a dozen more strokes."
    Emily froze. "Silence," she whimpered, the word barely coherent through her sobs.
    "Good," said Leonora, placing the whip back in the rack. "Kai will arrange for you to eat and then take you into the main hall to begin work." She paused. "Don't forget, Emily – silence. Think of being at Deuvar as joining a convent. We demand total obedience, the only thing we don't expect is chastity." Leonora allowed herself a smile.

Chapter 5
    While Emily Lawrence, sobbing and terrified, was led away by Kai to eat and begin her first full day at Deuvar, and Johnson tried to trace the mysterious disappearing patient, Peter Howard slept like a baby. When he woke in the middle of the afternoon he found that Angela had left a phone on the bedside table, together with a stack of directories, pens, and a note pad. He grinned and tapped in the first number that came into his head.
    The man at the far end of the line was stunned when he heard Peter's voice. Peter's requests were simple and straightforward. The voice read back his list and then hung up. Peter yawned and lay back amongst the pillows.
    He felt much better already. Angela – practical nursing sister to the last fibre of her body – had left a walking frame alongside the telephone table. With some chagrin Peter used it to propel himself to the little bathroom where – without too much difficulty – he showered, shaved and dressed himself in a pair of clean pyjama bottoms and dressing gown, thoughtfully provided by his hostess.
    When he re-appeared some time later he felt much more like his old self. Five weeks inactivity might have rendered his body weak, but his mind was as sharp as broken glass.
    Another phone call and he had arranged to have funds made available to him. When he'd finished he picked up a local directory and thumbed through the business pages. It was while he was making a final call that he heard the door to the annex open, and looked up.
    Angela stood in the doorway wrapped in a sheer, almost translucent, robe that gift wrapped her ample curves from chin to ankle. Her hair, which had been tidily arranged in a bun while she was at work, now curled in tumultuous auburn waves onto her broad shoulders.
    "I thought I heard you moving around," she said. "How was your shower?"
    "Wonderful. By the way, I've arranged for some equipment to be delivered here." He glanced at the bedside clock. "They've said they can have it here later today."
    Angela lifted an eyebrow. "You really must have some clout, Peter. Usually you can't get a pizza delivered this far out in the sticks."
    Peter watched her moving around the room. The woman was a banquet. As she pulled the curtains open her heavy breasts moved with fluid grace inside her wrap. As if sensing his interest, her nipples hardened, pressing themselves into an erotic relief. She had called him Peter! He was not Peter to anyone at the hospital… but it seemed so right…
    Such great tits…
    He was still a bit woozy…
    "Are you hungry?"
    "What?"
    "Hungry?" she repeated. "Are you hungry?"
    He lowered himself back onto the bed. "Rather depends what's on the menu -" His tone didn't suggest he