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OLGA'S STORY... PART 1
Olga Kernitser rarely enjoyed her job. As an escort she was obliged to take on whatever assignments were given to her... almost. At first, she had tried to be more like the other ‘girls' when working with clients. She attempted to be flirtatious and frivolous with them, even though she felt a mild disgust towards them. Even the ones that treated her with some respect (which weren't many of them), were little more than ‘just another job' to her.
After a few months, she gave up on this false bonhomie and although she was easily able to maintain a professional standard of poise and beauty, she became more aloof towards these men and behaved more like an ornament than a pseudo-girlfriend. To hers and her boss's surprise, this natural indifference towards her clients only served to make her more in demand than ever. She realised that by behaving more as she really was... cold... she was exciting the ‘chase' her clients wanted. Ironically, their increased attempts to attract her to them made her evermore intolerant of them. This didn't stop her from accepting the expensive gifts they showered on her though.
Olga was 28 years old and had been living in London for 5 years. Originally from the Northern German city of Hamburg, she had moved to London to pursue a career as a model. To her intense annoyance, the London agencies were only interested in 'rake thin' 16 year olds, and even though she was a striking looking woman, they didn't even consider as a model.
One day however, one of these agents called her and offered to introduce her to a colleague at a different kind of agency. She met Anna-Marie Harper at a pub near Waterloo Station. Anna-Marie was small blonde woman in her 40's. Her curly hair worn at shoulder length, and friendly demeanour belied the fact that she was a tough business woman, and she wasted no time in grilling Olga about her background, her sexuality, her ambitions and most of all... her moral standards. She made it clear that the job demanded acceding to clients sexual demands with a range of men and occasionally even some women. She would be paid extra for this of course. It was one of the very few occasions in her life, when Olga was to talk openly about herself. She found Anna-Marie to be intriguing, and even got the impression that they were alike in many ways. She remembered thinking that this woman would stop at nothing to get what she wanted... which clearly was money... lots of it.
By the end of their meeting, Olga had agreed to work for the escort agency that Anna Marie ran on behalf of a group of ‘gentlemen in the city'. Olga correctly surmised that these ‘gentlemen' had probably set up the agency as a ‘side-line' to their more legitimate businesses, but this didn't bother her. It was clear however that Anna-Marie had little liking for these people. Olga had seen hatred flicker across people's faces before, and had also learnt to recognise the carefully chosen words that disguised contempt.
Around 75% of Olga's clients were foreign businessmen. They rarely approached the agency direct, but were instead given the agencies services as a ‘perk' by their London based business partners. Almost all of them were interested only in being seen with a beautiful woman at the restaurants and clubs they were invited to, then taking the girl back to their hotel room where they drunkenly fumbled and thrashed about in an attempt to satisfy themselves. It happened on a few occasions that the client turned out to be different to the usual oafish morons, and they would stay relatively sober for the evening. These men, she later learned, were the more successful and experienced people. They had done their years of ‘laddish' buffoonery, and were more focused on the ‘finer' things in life. The evenings were more tolerable with these men, but the activities in the hotel rooms afterwards were often a different matter. These men demanded ‘special' services, and from these assignments... Olga learnt the arts and skills of the dominant and the submissive. The dominant roles came easy to her. She was oblivious to the feelings of others anyway, but she did have to learn tell the difference between fantasy and reality. On one occasion, she had an Italian banker pleading for mercy as she thrashed him with a leather belt. She had thought it was going rather well until he hid under the table still begging her to stop. It was only when he showed her the open wounds that she realised she had gone too far. He paid her anyway, but booked another girl on his next trip.
She also realised that this was where the real money was, and that if she were to play this game... she would need to throw herself into the role. Not wanting Anna-Marie to know what she was up to, Olga spent her own money on a holdall which she filled with the necessary equipment. Leather skirts, silk blouses, fish-net stockings, assorted bras and panties, hand-cuffs, riding crop, some make-up and a silencer and gun. Olga didn't intend taking any chances if she didn't have to. She would deposit the holdall at her client's hotel on the day of the assignment, then go back to her apartment to get ready for the restaurant. She always paid extra to have her ‘equipment' placed in a safe rather than stuck in a cloakroom. She didn't want some petty thief to find her secret insurance policy.
The meeting with her ‘handler' had gone well. Anna-Marie was sure Olga would be a useful recruit. She had already been alerted to Olga's purchase of a gun and silencer by her ‘handler', so she knew the girl was resourceful and determined. The ‘handler' had also been busy building a file on ‘Frau Kernitser'. Although she had never been named as an official suspect, the Hamburg police retained some suspicions about her on the night three drug dealers had died. The two men had been shot at close range. A bullet each in the middle of their foreheads. The noise in the bar had easily masked the silenced shots, and no one had seen the killer slip the gun into her coat pocket and walk out into the night. The third victim wasn't actually a drug dealer... but the girlfriend of one of the men. Her only mistake had been to suggest, at a meeting... a deadline by which ‘the new girl' had to come up with a deposit for joining their group or else...
The ‘new girl' had looked at the bitch when she said it, but quickly looked away when she was met with a steady gaze in return. She decided there and then that approaching this group for work in the first place had been a bad idea that needed fixing.
Elena Kemp had been getting ready to go and meet her boyfriend at the bar, when the doorbell rang. She opened the door to be met with the muzzle of a gun. Elena was unable to react for a second, and the ‘new girl' grabbed her round the throat and pushed her back into her apartment, kicking the door shut behind her. Elena was pushed back against the wall and the gun pushed into her belly.
"Where is it!?" snarled the ‘new girl'. Elena shook her head. The gun was removed, but Elena felt her assailant's knee smash into her groin. She doubled over and fell to the floor. She crawled a few feet further into the room, and looked up. The pain coursing through her body.
"I won't ask you again you fucking pig whore. Where is the packet?" Elena realised that her only chance of escaping with her life was to give up the consignment, so she nodded towards her bag on the table. Even amongst the pain she felt, she was silently swearing to kill this fuck at the first opportunity.
The ‘new girl' took the well taped package out of the bag and stuffed it into her coat pocket. Elena asked her what she was going to do. "I'm going to kill you." Elena's breathing became rapid. "Please," she said... " I won't say anything. I'll say I lost it... or I got burgled!"
To Elena's relief, she saw the ‘new girl' push the ‘safety' on and put the gun in her pocket. Then she came and crouched down beside Elena and looked down into her face. "Do you promise?" she said. "I promise. You can trust me!" The ‘new girl' thought for a moment, then nodded her head. "I thought so" she said.
Elena felt the hands grip her neck and she grabbed the wrists in a futile attempt to pull herself free of them. Her legs arched up and she kicked out as her scream of terror came out as nothing more than squeaks and gurgles. Her eyes started to bulge and then her rigid tongue flicked out of the side of her mouth as her strength began to ebb. The ‘new girl' leaned down and whispered into Elena's ear... "You think I'm that stupid?" she asked...
Elena never got the chance to answer, her desperate struggle became weaker and weaker... eventually subsiding into short spasms as she urinated over her new carpet. After she had become unconscious, the ‘new girl' released her, then stood up, looking down on her victim. She felt real pleasure at what she had done. Elena's terror had made her feel in control, and something else... something in the pit of her stomach... something strange...
Suddenly Elena twitched and started choking. She drew in a desperate gasp of air and her eyes opened. The ‘new girl' was looking down at her. Her gun was back in her hand, and Elena was staring straight into the end of the silencer. She tried to speak, but she was still labouring to get air into her lungs. Instead she pleaded with her hands, but the silencer had moved from her face down to her chest. The two shots thudded into her and her legs straightened out as she fell still. Her lifeless eyes still full of pleading and her open mouth still arched in horror. The ‘new girl' had another appointment at a local bar, and she left Elena to stare up at the ceiling, later to be found when the police called with some questions regarding her boyfriend.
The police had interviewed Olga a few days later, where she stated that she had spent that particular evening with her grandmother. Olga's grandmother did indeed provide a statement saying she and her granddaughter had spent the entire evening together. She was a deeply religious old lady and had spoken to the police officer with deep conviction... deep enough to convince him that she was telling the truth. The police knew that Olga had had contact with the drug dealers, and recently... but there was no chance they could secure a conviction without evidence and with a firm alibi in place, so they shelved the investigation as they had too little information that was worth pursuing.
The old lady had been suffering the onset of Alzheimer's disease for some time, and it had not been difficult to persuade her about the details of their fictional evening together. In fact the old lady had laughed at a joke Olga had told her... obviously one she had heard years earlier from someone else. Olga had spent several hours coaching the old woman
Three months later, the old lady was properly diagnosed with the illness by a meddling local doctor and placed into the care of a local home. She was no longer any use to Olga, and now that Olga herself was free from suspicion for the murders, she had money from the sale of the package... she decided it was time to move on, and without a backwards glance, she left her home town and headed for a new life in London.
To be continued...
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