'Out!' Her husband, who she always obeyed, used just one word to order her from the warmth of the car into the cold outside Terminal 4 at London's Heathrow Airport.

As she perched on her highest heels in a short silk suit that was far too cold for a damp Wednesday afternoon in January, she thought about running after the car. But she realised that to disobey the explicit orders he had given her, would result in his intense anger and displeasure. She did not want to receive even the smallest of resulting punishments. She just craved the praise she would get for the successful conclusion of her task.

'Are you alright, Madam?'

The question had startled her and she turned to see a policeman, wrapped up in a thick, waterproof coat. 'Fine! Thanks!' She replied, somewhat unconvincingly.

'Haven't you got a coat?' He looked her up and down. 'You'll certainly need one tonight. We've been told it will freeze later!'

She smiled to disarm the officer. 'No! I won't need one where I'm going!'

He returned the smile. 'Somewhere nice?'

'Yes!' But she could say no more, as she had no idea where. She hoped the officer wouldn't ask! She smiled again, hoping to keep everything a secret.

'Well then! You'd better get into the Terminal.' He pointed to the automatic door. 'It's much warmer in there!'

***

She approached the British Airways ticket desk and when an agent was free, she drew the note from her handbag. 'Hello! Have you a ticket with a reference of X-Ray, Yankee, Yankee, Foxtrot, Alpha, Alpha?' She was pleased that she still remembered the phonetic alphabet.

The agent said hello with her face, said nothing else and typed the characters. 'Yes! That's Washington on the 223 in two hours and back on Sunday!'

She hoped she didn't look too surprised. She had thought she was going to the sun!

'Do you have any bags?' The agent looked her up and down and noted she only had a small handbag. 'If you don't I can check you in as well!

'No!' She decided to add an explanation. 'My husband took everything I'll need!' It was true, he had left her with nothing except what she stood up in and the contents of the bag.

'I wish I could travel that light.' She handed over the tickets and a boarding pass. 'You'll need a coat when you get there! It's ten below zero!'

***

She took a drink of mineral water and sat down at a typically uncomfortable table and chair, that is never found anywhere other than in an airport, a railway station or a well-known chain of burger bars. She started to contemplate what she had let herself in for!

Facts were few!

She was at London's Heathrow Airport, dressed in an unsuitable, white summer suit, albeit a very good one in an expensive silk. She had no change of clothes and did not even have any spare underwear or stockings.

She had a boarding card for an economy class flight to Washington. She at least had a firm return ticket, so at worst, he did not intend to leave her there!

She was no wiser now, than she had been three hours ago, when she was ordered to get dressed, about why she was going! Was she being given to a friend for the week-end? He'd never done that for longer than a few hours! And he always preferred to be there! Or was he just sending her on some wild goose chase, for his own enjoyment?

To add to her facts and try to make some more sense, she opened the small handbag he had packed for her. It contained little. Her passport, fifty dollars and a few pounds, her emergency make-up repair kit, tissues, a Visa card with an impossibly useless two hundred pound limit were the only things of any use, if she were in trouble. She laughed as she felt the tissues might be of help if she started to cry. But that was something she rarely did!

At the bottom of the bag, he had packed two things of no use to her, but of infinite use to anybody she would have to obey! The first was her specially made and fitted ring gag, that made it impossible for her to speak, but still capable of pleasuring a man! The other was an effective blindfold in soft glove leather, which she had never seen before. Her husband liked her to see what was happening and fully understand her fate. Obviously, where she was going, neither talking and seeing would be a priority!

***

An hour before the flight, she decided to do what she knew was the riskiest move, she would have to make that day. Getting through the security control and into the departure lounge.

She was not particularly worried as she went through passport control, as they would not bother too much about her lack of possessions and money! Although, it might be a different matter when she arrived in the United States, as they didn't like those who would be unable to support themselves. But then did she look like an illegal immigrant?

It was not how she appeared to be dressed either! The steel collar locked around her neck and mainly hidden by her shoulder length, brown hair, would pay havoc with the metal detector!

***

The inevitable alarm sounded and the man from Security called her over.

'Madam!' At least he sounded pleasant enough. The man of about fifty was even smiling. 'Could you please take your necklace off and go through again?'

'I can't!' She could feel herself blushing with embarrassment. 'There's a padlock at the back under my hair.' She tried to look as demure as possible. 'I don't mind being body searched.'

His smile grew. It was obviously something he didn't mind either. 'We could get a lady if you wish!' She was sure he licked his lips.

'That's no problem.' She was growing in confidence and raised her arms up for him to start his search. She felt the short skirt rise slightly. She hoped it wasn't revealing to everyone that she was wearing stockings and not tights!

He started at the collar, feeling carefully all around and at one point checking that there was indeed a padlock at the back. He shook his head very slightly and she thought he winked. Well at least she might have made his day.

He continued downwards, checking gently down and under her arms and then around her upper body. Not that he thought there was much there, as the suit jacket was cut low, revealing her large cleavage. A close visual inspection sufficed. She winked back at him and she could see that he was having difficulty controlling his emotions.

As he progressed downwards to her body, he felt the tight corset enclosing her body and reducing her waist to a precise twenty inches. At last, the guard could not resist saying something. 'You are a very interesting lady!' She could feel his hands exploring the corset. 'Are you always dressed like this?'

'Yes! Always! I wear the corset nearly twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week.' She decided to add some more to make his day even better. 'You will also notice, that I have no knickers on! And stockings not tights!' She felt a hand roam to the side of her body to check for the suspenders. 'My nipples, labia and clitoris are also pierced.' She was getting bolder, had rolled the words deliberately and was enjoying the flirting. 'But you'd need to do a full body search to check that!'

The guard's face was now bright red. She knew now that she had the upper hand. 'Is there an-y-thing else?' He was now stammering badly.

She indicated her handbag at the end of the conveyor. 'There's a ring gag and a blindfold in my handbag over there!'

He collected it and gave it to her. She thought he was shaking. 'Can you show me?'

She took the handbag, undid the clasp and retrieving the articles, she held them in front of his face.

'You had bet-t-t-er g-g-go!'

***

When she had sat down in the departure lounge, she had felt very pleased that she had passed her first test. But as the time progressed towards the departure time of the flight, she was getting more and more uneasy. What if the guard felt better of what had happened and decided to tell his superiors? What if the incident had been observed by someone watching the all-seeing cameras? She had after all been rather blatant with the gag and the blindfold.

She could feel a cold sweat breaking out!

She had had considerable reason to be apprehensive. Forty minutes before the flight was due to depart at fifteen-twenty, a tall, slim, black woman in a sober, dark, trouser suit approached her.

Discretely, in her hand was a Metropolitan Police warrant card.

Copyright 1999 by Ewart Higgins