Beneath The Glitter

Chapter Five

When he turned, from dropping the camera on the table beside the ring light, the blow came.

For someone who had just come from an encounter that drained her physically, it was a surprising move. But for someone who had enough hate in her owing to what she had been through, it was not at all.

Her fist seared through the skin of his jaw like a knife. The multiple sharp edges on the ring, which were pinned together to fit all five fingers, sliced the jaw like a butcher’s knife, even though the cut was not that deep. On his way to the inevitable fall to the ground, she did it again, on his neck.

With a loud wail, he hit the floor, but not for long.

He got up quickly, and the blood trail followed his hasty but struggling movement out of the room to wherever he went for help.

She remembered her pain. She didn’t care anymore. She was as good as dead already.

She gathered herself, and crawled back to bed. The weight of the exhaustion descended on her once again. She lay still another ten minutes, waiting for the worst to happen.

Nothing.

She managed to go to the adjoining restroom to clean herself up. She went out, removed the stained sheets, and replaced them. She put on the change of clothes that were given to her.

But she needed to leave this place. It didn’t matter whatever it would cost her.

Her father used to say, ‘it is not about the size of the dog, but the size of the fight in the dog.’ She was ready to fight to the death to make this happen. Those words meant more to her now.

She slipped on the ring.

She opened the door, and stepped out.

There was little to no noise at that time. The sun was high in the sky and even back at home, most people were indoors, on break, or just resting at this time of the day. It was a good sign.

She went left.

There was a long row of rooms which numbered at least thirty. Each door she passed was shut, and very little sounds could be heard from outside. This was in deep contrast to how things were when she came in some hours ago.

She moved on. She marched past the rows of rooms, stealthily at times, head held high at some other times. When she got to the end of the row, there were two turnings. To the left was a long way flanked on either side by tall buildings with a gate at the far end. Was this the way out?

To the right was a lush garden, a swimming pool, and what looked like a playground for children. There were tens of trees surrounded by deep greenery further ahead. Where should she go?

She chose to go right.

Moving slowly, steadily, but carefully, she turned right, looking this way and that for any cause for alarm.

It appeared alright for some minutes, until something disturbing hit her.

She saw people alright, but no one seemed to pay her any mind. They just behaved like she was just another girl among so many, and went about their business. For the average girl, it would appear that things were going good and freedom was just around the corner. But she was smart enough to understand that it was not a good sign. Again, the multitudes of male guards that crawled all over the place when she came in were nowhere to be found.

It did not sit well with her.

But she moved anyway, determined to see it to the end.

The gate was now in sight. Buoyed with hope, she approached it, and felt for a latch or handle. There was none. It was smooth, all the way from top to bottom.

She decided to scale it.

Luckily, it was not too high. She reached up, jumped, placed her hands securely, and raised her right leg to connect to the top of the gate.

Two blows to her fingers, one loud scream from her, and she was on the ground. She was sure she would never use that finger again.

The gate rolled open, like it was controlled from somewhere.

There were at least fifteen able-bodied men on the other side of the gate, waiting and looking menacingly at her. Behind them were more than five Toyota trucks, with loud roaring engines idling.

It was almost evening when she woke up.

Her head was throbbing, her eyes hurt, there was pain in each part of her body she tried to move. She was lying on the same bed she had run away from, but this time the room had been arranged differently. She wondered if it was just her or she was imagining things. Mara was looking directly into her eyes.

‘You should not have done that.’

She said it in the calmest way possible, but the weight of the statement was not lost on her.

‘I don’t belong here! I want to go home! I want out of this place! I am not a call-girl!’

‘You have a client waiting for you at the Le Meridien by 7pm tomorrow. I would advise you to prepare yourself properly. The time we wasted looking for you would have been invested into doing that for you, and I would have been of great help. As it stands, my hands are tied, and you have little time. Before then, you have at least eight hours of content shooting for the fans. I will see you later.’

Before she had time to protest or ask what that meant, Mara had sashayed out of the room, swinging her moderately massive buttocks. That wave of desire shot through her again, and she could only forget the figure she was looking at when it was replaced by two men bearing a different colour of ring light, and some funny looking clothing. They erected it at an angle facing the bed, ands switched it on.

One of the men came close to her. He rooted out a police special, and pointed it to her head.

‘You will do as you are told. Put those on, and look at the screen.’

She knew they meant business.

Slowly, she stripped, and started with the panty hose, which stuck to her like a second skin, leaving nothing to the imagination. Her bosoms were almost bare, save for some netty clothing which covered just the core of her mammaries. There was now a teleprompter close to the ring light which bore a camera, and she was asked to perform according to what was written there.