“A Heart Corrupted”

[cgraven]

“A Heart Corrupted”

This is a closed thread for sweetnessofbondage and cgraven. You are invited to read along and enjoy.

White Slavery is something one associates with the old eastern block and the fall of the Soviet Union and the emergence of the new Russia. It was something that happened to desperate women in the east longing for the life of the west, and to escape from their own countries failed economies. Slavery and human trafficking was a problem of the third world, and Eastern Europe, it did not happen to well educated people in the west and certainly not in this country.

Michael Develin listened politely to his editors as they spun story ideas for the upcoming issue of INS’s online publication. INS had come a long way since their days as radio news service. Where other such as Pathé News had not kept up with the changing times or adapted to the new ways in which people got their news, they had gone the way of the Dodo, but not INS. “Ladies, Gentlemen we need something that will hit our readers in the gut.” Develin knew that a grain of truth, and some outrageous conclusion would do the trick, boost circulation, and market share.

“White Slavery Mr. Develin oh not in Eastern Europe but right here. After all pretty young women disappear quite regularly, who is to say it’s not slaver bearing them off”. Develin smiled now there is an idea, a few random facts to support the claim, yes that would be the ticket. He quickly scribbled a few notes and handed them to Mathew Albright. “Mat it is your idea run with it for the moment.” Develin scratched the stubble of his day old beard, "Have that new intern work up some background facts, number of girls that go missing. You know so the story will sell the idea of White Slavery in our readers’ back yard, a sprinkling of random facts and then draw them to the conclusions’ we want.”

Young interns such as Miss Anna Scarberry were not privy to the inner working of INS News or the way they subtly skew their news stories to create a sensational story for publication. No they were the ones to do the grunt work, the research that the journalist would use to craft their stories to boost INS's market share.

Mathew Albright left the meeting calling for INS’s newest intern. “Scarberry,…….…Scarberry….. Where the hell is she?” Thom Mannering smiled, he would fix Miss Anna Scarberry but good, how dare she turn down a date with him, the cold little bitch. “Mr. Albright I think she is down in the archives, she said there was nothing to do up here of interest.”

“Really Mannering!” Thom Mannering could see that Albright was furious as he went off to give the young girl a verbal hiding. When he finally got to the INS Archives he was madder than a wet hen. “So nothing of interest to do is it Miss Scarberry?” Mathew Albright’s face was flushed red, his breathing a bit labored, for a man in his fifties he was not what one could call in good shape, but he was a first class columnist and one that had won his share of awards for his writing. The closing of the better newspapers had brought him to INS and he was just trying to get by in this new world of on line medium and give Develin what he wanted.

“Well Miss Scarberry?”

 

[sweetnessofbondage]

With a 3.8 GPA at Emerson University, Anna would have thought she'd land an internship somewhere more prestigious than INS, but at least they paid. With glasses too big for her face and a conservative sense of fashion, much of her beauty was hidden, though she still drew the attention of some of her coworkers. Making her way up the building's steps, she carried a tray of coffees threatening to spill on her navy blazer and crisp white blouse as she hurried inside, barely managing to open the door without dropping anything.

The small girl was easy to spot with her long bright red hair as she quickly moved around the office, dropping off coffees at the desks of reporters with a bright smile. True, delivering coffees was not her dream internship, but it was a foot in the door for a future career in journalism, even if she didn't completely agree with the company's ethics. Though she didn't have a place in editorial meetings, something had always seemed off about the articles, sensationalist headlines and poor fact checking.

With a sigh, she looked around the office for any sign of journalists in need of assistance, but most seemed busy making phone calls or chatting as they enjoyed a box of doughnuts. With nothing else to do, she made her way down to the basement, towards the archives, to work on her own personal projects. She wanted to write a true piece of journalism that mattered, that wasn't based in sensationalist lies. The young woman was an idealist, a bright eyed girl with hope for the future. With her sugary coffee in hand, she plopped herself down at a desk, going straight to work.

Opening up her binder, she looked over the scanned copies of articles of local missing girl's, a map of the locations where they were last seen, and all of her notes. Most of the victims were low risk, beautiful young women with bright futures ahead of them. And yet the police had found no suspects or evidence to lead them in the right direction. And so she continued, marking the map with new information until she found a cluster, women taken from around the same area.

The poor girl was so caught up in her work that she didn't notice the older columnist standing right behind her until it was too late. At the sound of his voice, she stood up quickly, spinning to face him as she slammed the binder shut, her cheeks turning a bright pink. To her horror, it was Matthew Albright, the most prestigious columnist in INS, a man she'd looked up to for years. "I... I am so sorry sir. I completely lost track of time. I didn't realize how long I'd been down here. Whatever you need, I promise I'll make it up to you." She was starting to ramble, her blush only deepening as she feared he'd bring this up with her supervisor.

 

[cgraven]

The young redheaded intern was shaken from her research at Mathew Albright’s question. "I... I am so sorry sir. I completely lost track of time. I didn't realize how long I'd been down here. Whatever you need, I promise I'll make it up to you." Anna was starting to ramble; she blushed the most adorable shade of pink that only deepening as time dragged by. Anna had backed against the stacks of the archives. A stray strand of her tawny copper hair hung seductively by her angelic face, a pencil was slid behind her ear. Albright had remembered seeing her around the office usually as the coffee girl.
Manning Mathew Albright knew well Thom Mannering reputation of trying to bed each of the new female interns and Mat was quite sure that the pretty little redhead had rebuffed Mannering’s advances. He also knew that Mannering could be vindictive when his advances were turned down. “Let me see the notes you were working on Miss Scarberry”. Mat Albright was impressed by the detail of the notes that Anna had made on the disappearance of young women in the area. Mat had noticed the impeccable way the notes were made and the way that Anna had noted cross references, possible connections, and as yet unanswered questions. What was missing was a link between the girls some common factor.

“I am working on a story on the unexplained disappearance of several young ladies over the past year, and the possibility that they might be connected to White Slavery”. Mathew Albright studied the young intern closely as he continued. “I see that your own research seems to dove tail with the story I am working on”. Mat found that despite her conservative dress and her oversized glasses that Miss Anna Scarberry was a very attractive young lady. She was a petite beauty and her stunning azure blue eyes were the first thing he noticed. They were eyes that a man could become lost in, and they seemed to look out on the world with a delightful innocence.

“So are you interested in doing the research Miss Scarberry?”

Mat Albright watched as the little redhead’s stunning blue eyes grew wide with barely contained excitement. Then suddenly there was a quizzical look on her young face. Mat knew that men like Mannering made life a burdensome existence of mundane drudgery for young interns like Miss Scarberry. He looked again at the notes she had handed him and he could see how meticulously they had been done so he decided to force the issue with a simple question. “So are you interested in doing the research Miss Scarberry? You would be working for me excusably.”

Mat outlined what he wanted her to do, research the disappearance of three young girls in particular, Karri Williams, Martha Smith, and Julie Emerson. All the girls were between eighteen and twenty and with no apparent link between them, yet Mat Albright though there was something more. “You know the routine Miss Scarberry; check the police reports, and school records, anything that might link them. I’ll interview their parents and friends.” The assignment was straight forward, a search of records, cross reference, and more time spent in the archives. It was the same mind numbing work but it was for a real story this time, for a real journalist.

After a week of long days and a few long nights of hard work there seemed nothing to connect the young women. They appeared to have led a sheltered life, no real boyfriends, the only thing they had in common was that they were young, beautiful, and light haired. Karri was a redhead and Martha and Julie were blondes. Julie was a honey blonde, and Martha was a golden blonde. It was late one night when Anna came across a photograph of Karri and Julie in a line for a new club, The Chained Unicorn. It was the first time that there was any hint of a link between any of the girls. It was late, too late to call Mr. Albright. Anna could wait until morning to tell him what she had found, or she could go to the Chained Unicorn and see if there was anything to the photo or not. It was a temptation, one she that she should leave till morning……..but this could be big…….a real scoop.

Strangely seemed there was no real information on “The Chained Unicorn” other than it was a private club. In fact it seemed someone had made sure there were no real references to the club in the INS archives. What Anna did find was that it was located in a remote industrial area of the city, which was unusual for a private upscale club in its self. What Anna’s research did not reveal was that The Chained Unicorn was in fact a BD&SM club catering to the darker needs and desires of the shaker and movers of the city. Men and women who would not want their particular appetites made common knowledge, and paid handsomely to keep them secret.

 

[sweetnessofbondage]

Anna inhaled sharply when he asked to see her notes, a man she looked up to, the reporter she aspired to be, asking to see her work. There was a moment of hesitation before she handed over the binder, her heart racing as she watched his face for some kind of reaction. Nervous hands fidgeted with the hem of her blouse, watching him read through all of her notes. "I know I wasn't told to work on it, but I-" She quickly shut her mouth when he raised a hand to silence her, his intense gaze never leaving her work.

The last thing she could have expected was for this man to ask for her assistance, and Anna was unable to hide the shock and excitement from her face. Many interns might dread such work that seemed so monotonous, but this was an opportunity to work with one of her heroes on a story that she truly cared about. An article like this could shine a spotlight on these disappearances and put pressure on law enforcement to find these women. "I'd be honored!" Her voice could barely contain her excitement as she sat down, pen and notebook in hand as she wrote down everything he said.

It was a dream come true, working side by side, developing a mentor relationship with one of the only real reporters at their paper. He had her accompany him for interviews, taught her how to approach victim's families, the right questions to ask, and how to ask them. It was what she'd always wanted in an internship, and more than any of her classmates had experienced in their own internships.

Despite all of the late nights and long hours at the office, she was enthralled with the work, diving deeper and deeper into the mystery, often losing track of time until it was early morning. At ten at night, she decided to check her email for a break, only to find a photo sent from one of her sources. A lead. Glancing at the clock, she realized she couldn't call Mr. Albright, but she couldn't leave this alone. A quick google search only told her that this was a private club, highly exclusive. She might not be able to get inside, but maybe there was an opportunity she could find.

She arrived at the club in a green sleeveless blouse, not terribly revealing, but flattering nonetheless, skinny jeans, and ballet flats. Unlike most of the guests in their designer clothing, she seemed underdressed. With a deep breath, she stepped into the line, oblivious to some of the women wearing collars around their necks, or the eyes that lingered on her. Despite the awkward glasses, her beauty stood out even in the line of women dressed like models.

In her purse, she carried her notebook, pen, and the photos of the missing girls. Even if she couldn't get in, she might have the chance to ask around the area for those who might have seen them.

 

[cgraven]

Anna’s cab had pulled up in the dark heart of the industrial section of the city. Her cab driver was reluctant to let out the young redheaded beauty in the apparently deserted section of town. “Miss are you quite sure this is where you wanted to go.” All he could do was shake his head as Anna paid the fare. He decided that he would circle the block giving the naïve young beauty a chance to change her mind. As the cab pulled away Anna was left standing on the pavement under a lonely street lamp. Could this really be the place? The location hardly seemed to be the site for a chic private night club. Anna turned the corner, and saw an island of light, a queue, and finally the sign; The Chained Unicorn. The young redheaded intern from INS joined the queue.

Ginger monitored the queue on the club's close circuit TV network. It was he who would decide who would get into the club and who would be turned away. As each person approached the doorman, Ginger evaluated them. He would let in a bloke or two who were no club members but it was the young women of the queue that caught and held his interest and he would select them with an eye to what would most likely capture the club members’ interests. Perhaps one in twenty of young women would be admitted to The Chain Unicorn, as always Ginger was looking for that elusive something.

Several men and young women had been turned away at the door when it was Anna’s turn. Ginger smiled as he saw the young redhead approach the doorman. She wore a green sleeveless blouse, not terribly revealing, but flattering nonetheless, skinny jeans, and ballet flats. The jeans accentuated the sensual curves of her legs. The girl’s blouse was a simple green v-neck top which brought out the azure blue of her eyes and the “V” neck drew the viewers eyes to a teasing glimpse of cleavage, and the soft sensual curve of her firm young breasts, it was tasteful, sensual, and oh so innocently conservative. Ginger pushed a button that would signal the doorman to admit the young beauty.

At first glance there was nothing to suggest that The Chained Unicorn was anything but an exclusive private night club. There was a service bar, dance floor, and the seating was restricted to tables that were nestled in the shadows of the room around the dance floor, soft jazz music subtly played in the back ground. Thom Mannering was seated at a table in the far corner across from the door cloaked in dark shadows, surveying the young women that had made it passed the selection process at the door when he spied Anna Scarberry. Damn he muttered under his breath, what the hell was she doing here. Ginger and Michal would want to know that an intern from INS news was here, then they would want to know how Mannering let it happen. He debated with himself whether to tell them or not, but there was really no choice. He picked up the phone on his table, “Michal the girl in the green v-neck top, and jeans is an intern at INS.” Michal looked down on the main floor of the club and saw Anna as she waited to be seated. He smiled she was a pretty little morsel.

Anna was seated in the far corner from Thom Mannering. She had just ordered her drink when a tall man in his mid fifties, impeccably dressed, came and sat down by her. “I am Michal Romanoff this is my club and you are my dear.” He smiled warmly, “Tell me are you a dominatrix or a submissive?” He smiled again his eyes boldly traveling over Anna supple young body. A submissive was the thought that came to mind as the young redhead blushed crimson.