0 comments/ 15559 views/ 1 favorites Said the Spider to the Fly By: captivate Paris was restless. Her husband had died 6 weeks ago and already she felt her body aching for a man. She also knew that her bank account would soon need an influx of cash. She devoted each Sunday to reading the papers, checking out the society page, in search of her new mate. Then she saw him. His pictures filled the Lifestyle section as he escorted a lovely woman to an extremely elegant charity event. She barely glanced at the woman, not really too interested in her. What intrigued her, mesmerized her, was the image of her new husband. She didn't require good looks for a mate, but this Paul Andrews had them in abundance. He was tall, towering over the insipid blond clinging to his arm. He was well-dressed, his tux fitted perfectly. His dark hair, with sexy streaks of silver, was artistically tousled. She stared at his lips, full and sensual, sporting a full moustache that looked very soft and tempting. The woman was looking at him adoringly, her mouth slightly opened, making her appear breathless. She avidly read the description of the gala, noting that Paul Andrews was named several times, in glowing terms. He was wintering at his beach house and was an active participant in the charity. They listed his many good works, a perfect resume for Paris; she could picture this man's healthy bank account. The next morning, Paris was up early. She lingered in a scented bath, finalizing her plans. She stepped from the tub, drying and anointing her skin with fragrant lotion. She carefully selected beautiful, gossamer lingerie and slipped into it. It wasn't that she thought anyone would see it, it was just that she worked better when she felt sexy. She stood in front of the wall of mirrors, turning to see all angles. She was a lovely woman; beautiful, really. Paris had a clear, glowing olive complexion. Her cap of dark curls had tiny streaks of silver that enchanted men; the innocence of wayward curls mixed with the sophistication of silver was nearly intoxicating. Her dark brown eyes seemed to fill her face. Her cheeks were naturally pink with high, perfectly-formed cheekbones. She had matching dimples on either side of her full, pouty mouth. Paris was petite and full-figured. She was delicate in a way that made men want to take care of her and protect her. She admired her reflection and the dainty creamy lingerie against her perpetually tanned flesh. She enjoyed looking at herself. Paris ran her fingers up her smooth skin, luxuriating in the caress, the sensation of being touched. Finally, she forced herself to end her inspection. Almost sadly, she stepped into a black dress with red accents, covering up her lovely near-nakedness. She knew how to dress, how to look elegantly understated. Men liked that. She slipped her nylon clad feet into strappy black sandals, feeling the stretch in her calves. She went to the garage and started her lovely, deep blue Mercedes convertible. The engine purred quietly as she backed down the drive. She loved driving this car. For a moment, she thought fondly of her late husband and his generosity. The car had been a gift from him soon after they started dating. Behind the wheel, she felt powerful, capable and very, very sexy. She enjoyed watching men turn to look at her appreciatively as she drove by. Paris parked at Dearling Corporation, the offices of Paul Andrews. She smiled enchantingly at the valet attendant, flashing a bit of well-toned thigh and a creamy garter as she stepped from her car. He handed her the parking stub, his fingers caressing hers gently. She knew well the effect she had on men. All men. Young, old, married, gay; they all succumbed to her effortless charm. It had been this way her entire life, and she was perfectly content exploiting that effect whenever possible. Entering the building, she was among throngs of bustling business people, all moving purposefully. She entered the elevator, ascending to the executive floor. When she stepped from the car, she found herself in a tasteful, intimate reception room. She moved quietly to the far corner, sat down, crossed her shapely legs, and waited. In person, Paul was even better than she had hoped. It wasn't long before he strode through the reception area, stopping to say hello to Janine, the woman behind the desk. He asked about her family and actually listened to her reply. As he stood there, Paris observed him carefully. He was dressed in a hand-tailored suit, a charcoal grey that looked great on him. His shirt was the palest shade of blue, his tie a deeper blue. His voice was deep and rich, his laugh authentic. She watched his hands as he gestured and talked. They were lovely, slender and graceful. Everything about him was elegant and classical. Everything appealed to her. This was a rarity. She usually didn't have the luxury of finding her men attractive, just rich and powerful. And, of course, susceptible to her charms. Paris never doubted her charms. She knew exactly how she affected men, she relied on that. Paul Andrews, her next target, would be no exception. She remained sitting quietly, just watching the people in the room, particularly Paul. She waited patiently. As Paul finished his conversation, he turned to go into his office. His gaze fell on Paris; their eyes met. And locked. His widened slightly with surprise and delight. Hers gazed at him with felicity. She slowly licked her lips, making them shine even more. He watched her little pink tongue, and found himself wondering how it would feel exploring his mouth. Paul nearly shook his head in an effort to clear it. He hadn't become a leader in industry by indulging in flights of fancy. He nodded to the woman and turned to leave. Something made him stop. He was forced to turn around, and rewarded by her most radiant smile. She stood. He nearly grinned with pleasure. She was tiny, delicate, perfectly proportioned. He watched as she moved toward him, her body swaying slightly, enticingly. Paris walked to Paul, holding out her hand as she neared him. She introduced herself in a breathy voice. He found himself leaning nearer to hear her. He was pleased to note that she smelled delicious, softly enticing. Everything about her pleased him. He asked her into his office, curious about what he could do for her. She entered before him, her scent lingering as she moved. He stepped behind his desk, waiting for Paris to be seated before he sat. She seemed to curl into the chair, comfortable immediately. He sat quietly, losing himself in her huge brown eyes, waiting for her to begin. Paris sighed deeply, and began to speak. "I recently lost my dear husband. He was the only family I had, the only person in my life. I am lonely and still quite bereft. I can't imagine anything better than to spend my time helping others. I read about your charitable works and I want to help, in any way I can. I have money to contribute, time to share, resources I can call upon. Just let me help you, please?" As she finished, her voice trembled, just a little, her eyes filled with tears, and she had to turn away to compose herself. Paul was mesmerized. This sweet, gentle woman was all alone in the world. It wasn't fair. Women like her were meant to be protected and cared for, not left to fend for themselves! He stood, quickly circling the desk and standing before her. He reached out a hand, just to touch her, just to offer comfort. He was never sure how it happened, but instead of a gentle, reassuring touch, he was holding her. Holding this wonderful woman, feeling her softness and inhaling her intoxicating scent. She rested her head on his chest, sighing deeply, as if she had come home. His hands went to her back and caressed her, gentling her, comforting her. They stood together for several minutes, both content to remain close. Then, reluctantly, they drew apart. Paris had a gentle blush on her cheeks, moisture still clinging to her full lashes. She smiled with embarrassment, which endeared her even more to Paul. He stepped back, taking her hands and smiling into her eyes. Before she left the office, Paris had been given an assignment and lists of people to contact. They discussed the acquaintances they had in common, finding quite a few. They made plans to work together the next evening, to start the newest pledge campaign underway. Paul even offered to share his office with her, making a mini-office on the large conference table. Paris smiled gently, overwhelmed by his kindness and understanding. When she left, he escorted her to the elevator, introducing her as his new associate to Janine, explaining that Paris was to be given full acess to his office. Janine looked at her suspiciously; women usually did. But it didn't matter. Paris had made the first contact with her next husband. She had begun to spin her web. To Be Continued... Said the Spider to the Fly Susan Jennings was a charismatic and charming talk show host, bestselling author, and the darling of the religious right for her perceived moral high ground. With her slim waistline and more than generous portion of breasts, added to the perfectly styled jet black hair and big deer like green eyes, it was hard not to like her. The set of the talk show was brimming with activity as she strolled to her desk. She was building up her audience for the imminent release of her latest book, a no-holds-barred look into the adult entertainment industry. The book marked a departure from her usual "PG" rated fare. She had packed every chapter with graphic sexual content. Straight sex, gay and lesbian sex, sexual fantasies, and fetishes were all explored. There were even personal interviews with strippers, call girls, and porn stars. The hype had resulted in record breaking advance orders, and was set to give Susan more of the two things she was hopelessly addicted to: money and fame. The seemingly perfect 32 year old seemed untouchable, and in full control of everything around her. That was until the phone call. It came when the filming was done and everyone had left for the evening. She was reading through her fan mail and soaking up the accolades when the ringing of the phone diverted her attention. The caller was a male who refused to give his name. His voice was deep and she felt uneasy, even alarmed as he spoke. Something was not right about this call, and it took only two words from the caller to confirm it. "Raven Fox." How could he know? She had worked so feverishly to bury it. The legal documents, the financial transaction, and the buyer's signature were all designed to erase any trace of her brief work as a nude model in the porn industry. Where and how had this unknown caller dug up her past? Panic filled her, and her heart raced wildly. If word got out, she would be ruined. Her career over, her reputation shattered, and her million dollar lifestyle gone with the wind. She had to think fast. Her first reaction was to play it cool, pretend she did not know what the caller was talking about. "I'm sorry, but you seem to have me confused with someone else. I really must go now." "I know exactly who I'm talking to. If anyone is confused it is you Susan, or should I call you Raven?" "As I said, I have no idea what you-" "250 colour photographs. All nude and sexually explicit. The entire collection of your work, it would seem. The attorney was Martin Hilliard. The collection was sold to Sterling Miles for the sum of $2,500. A poultry sum if you ask me. The contract stated that Mr. Miles was to retain them for his private collection only. They were never to be sold or distributed." Her tone suddenly turned more sour as she spoke into the phone. "And how is it you know all of this?" "Sterling Miles was my brother. When he passed away last month, he left me his entire collection of erotica. Imagine my surprise when I was going through them and found you in all your naked, enticing, explicit glory. What would your devoted fans think if they discovered that their esteemed symbol of righteousness and virtue was nothing more than a cheap whore who liked to spread her legs for the camera?" Susan was desperate for words, and even more desperate to protect her golden girl image. Raven Fox was her dirty alter ego and must stay buried. She would pay any price, do anything necessary to get those pictures back in her hands. Her thoughts again turned to the mysterious caller. Was she dealing with an inept amateur trying to shake her down for money, or a sinister male using the photographs as leverage to lure her into sexual submission. The latter thought sent a decadent thrill through her that she was quick to dismiss. "As you have noted, the contract stated specifically that those images could not be released to the public, so I don't believe we have anything further to discuss." "Yes, the contract stated that Sterling could not release them. But Sterling is dead. As his legal heir, I now own the rights to them and there is nothing in the contract that prohibits me from doing as I please with them. If you do not want them going public then I suggest we meet." Susan was shaking, her composure all gone. How could her attorney overlook a detail like that? "I can set up a meeting with an attorney. We can-" "NO! We meet alone. I hold the upper hand now, so don't try anything you will regret. I have many connections in the porn industry myself and will not hesitate to make these available to them. We must meet alone." The room seemed to spin and she felt near to fainting. Like a fly caught in a spider's web, she was trapped with no way out. "Where?" she whispered, her voice shaky and nervous. "I knew you would see things my way," the nameless voice remarked as he gave Susan the instructions on where they were to meet. As he ended the conversation, she grabbed her smart phone and entered the address into the GPS App. It was the seedy side of town near the wharf. She was now even more apprehensive. A single female driving her Mercedes in that part of town would stand out like a sore thumb. She could be mugged, gang raped, or even murdered. As she drove to the rundown apartment he had described, she recalled the details in her mind. Ten years, how quickly they had gone. She had left home. Was living in a strange city and was hungry for fame and fortune. Blessed with a gorgeous face and hot body, she immediately found work as a model. That led to nude modelling, and that led to the sex industry. While the work kept her busy, she never made it to the mainstream magazines and films. She recalled the raw excitement of fucking in front of others, and the high of seeing herself sucking cock and being fucked hard. She thought of her first lesbian shoot. Jade had the most beautiful pussy she had ever seen, and she still recalled her face being soaked in the girl's cum. Her thoughts went to the catalogue of pictures themselves. Close ups of her tight pussy, her legs spread wide with cum dripping from her freshly fucked cunt. Her tongue buried in another woman's pussy. The ones with two cocks stuffed in her mouth, and those with her face peeking out from between her own legs as she was fucked like a dog; these were the pictures that troubled her most. Some of the ass shots, and pussy close ups could be anyone, but the rest would expose her quite clearly. She had changed little in appearance since then. She had made a clean break from all of that by what she thought was an iron clad deal. She went to college, got a degree in literature, wrote a bestselling book, and climbed the ladder of success with a completely new persona. Now it was all back, and threatening to destroy everything. ************************* A soaking rain had the wind shield wipers going full speed as Susan navigated the dark street in search of the small apartment. Finding the agreed on address, she nervously made her way up the wooden steps that led to the porch. The door was unlocked as he indicated and she cautiously stepped inside. The room was spacious and moderately decorated; a surprise considering the crumbling and neglected exterior. A large throw rug covered the hard wood floor beneath. The walls were covered with pine wood panelling, and a large ceiling fan churned slowly overhead. She scanned the room to see a big screen TV mounted on the wall. A surround sound system was playing music softly in the background. Pictures of nude women in various stages of bondage were displayed on every wall. As she slowly ventured into the middle of the room she saw something in the near corner that made her stop and gasp momentarily. Spread out on a wooden table were the very pictures that she had sold years before. Her face blushed as she gazed at the images of herself naked, and her gaping pussy on full display. Even now, just looking at the pictures made her pussy dampen and her nipples harden under the light shirt she was wearing. She subconsciously compared her body to then and now. There was little difference. She exercised, ate well, and did her Kegels daily to keep her PC muscles strong. She could easily pose again. A sound behind her took her gaze off the photos. Whirling around she saw him standing there. A tall, slender man with dark, piercing eyes. His chiselled face, five o'clock shadow, and stringy shoulder length blonde hair reminded her of Patrick Swayze in "Point Break." She was quite surprised as she had expected a 300 pound, chain smoking and wheezing pervert peering at her through his oversized glasses. "I finally get to see you in person, but I must say your conservative wardrobe is a disappointment considering how you liked to flaunt that body of yours in your pics. The usual expert at social interaction, she now found herself fighting for something to say as he inched towards her. His masculine scent was already overpowering her senses. "Allow me to introduce myself. Evan Miles," he remarked with a slight grin as he stood face to face with her. "What do you want for them? I will pay you twice what they are worth." she managed to say, it sounded far bolder than she felt as she stared down at the images strung over the table. "Money I have, and believe me I could make more off those pictures than you could ever imagine." He remarked as he ran his right hand through her raven locks. "It is not your money I want. I want to see you grovel at my feet. I want to watch the prim and proper Susan Jennings become the nasty Raven Fox." She bit her lip nervously as she studied his words. "I don't understand." she spoke through quivering lips. "You understand me perfectly. You can begin by taking off all of your clothes. I want to see you naked right now." "All those pictures and you have forgotten what I look like naked?" she remarked sarcastically, trying to throw him off balance. "This is not about refreshing my memory bitch, it is about me giving you a direct order and you learning to follow it." His eyes were cold and angry and a cold shiver coursed through her body at the sound of his dominating voice. She suddenly remembered the reason she was here. The pictures. She would do whatever it took to get them back, even if it meant stripping naked for this stranger. She could surrender her dignity and pride, but she would not lose the life she had come to cherish so much. The lack of hesitation in obeying his command surprised even her as she unzipped the jacket and laid it aside. Underneath, she was dressed in a light blue shirt and skin tight jeans that showed off her stunning figure perfectly. Evan watched in eager anticipation as Susan began to undo the buttons of her shirt. It was more than just her clothes he wanted to strip her of. He wanted to possess her entirely, make her his own personal sex slave, and the pictures sprawled on the nearby table were the collateral he needed to make it happen. Susan peeled the shirt off, revealing a lacy pink low-cut bra that barely concealed her 36DD breasts. She let her hands slip down to her jeans and began removing the belt, conscious of the fact that Evan was following her every move with his eyes. As the jeans slipped below her pink laced panties she could feel his breathing become heavier. The thick lips of her pussy pressed against the sheer panties vividly advertising the fact that she was fully shaved, and the aroma of her arousal filled the room. Taking a deep breath, she reached behind her and undid the clasp of the bra, letting if fall gently into her hand. Her firm and full breasts jiggled seductively as they were freed from their confines. She lowered her panties and kicked them aside. She now stood naked before him, and felt the familiar churning in her stomach as she did the first she stood before a camera butt naked. Evan took his time gazing on her naked beauty. He walked around her taking time to admire her shapely ass and long, sensual legs before speaking. "Not bad. Not bad at all," he remarked as he returned to take a seat on a red leather winged back chair. Time seemed to stand still as she waited for what he would say next. "Now get on your hands and knees and crawl over to me. I want you to convince me to keep your dirty little past our secret." Susan trembled at his words. She knew exactly what he wanted. The stakes had been raised and he was in full control. Lowering herself to the floor was the hard part. Her will fought her the entire time, but no price was too high. She had to win. Slowly, she began crawling towards him, her head bowed shamefully, her breasts swaying, and her ass moving sensually with each move of her body. Somewhere in mid stride, a new-found confidence overtook her. She flicked her hair from the front of her face and gained the courage to look him straight in the eye. Now, like a lioness crouching towards her new master, she inched closer and closer. As she came to his chair, he placed an arm on top of her head and lowered it towards his crotch. "I want you to suck my cock like the whore I know you really are!" She suppressed the urge to lash out at him in anger. Her fingers fumbled with the snap and gently unzipped his jeans. As he rose from the chair, she guided them to the floor and pulled them the remainder of the way off. His bulging cock tented the white briefs he was wearing, and she found it difficult not to stare. She had been such a good girl in her new life, but now her inner whore was waking up. The thought of having his throbbing cock inside her mouth was wrestling against her desire to get those pictures back. "Take the underwear off with your teeth. No hands!" he whispered in a lusty voice. His voice translated control and she found herself surprisingly eager to follow his commands. She grasped the top band of his briefs in her mouth and began tugging them downward like a playful puppy. Her eyes widened as she stared directly at his freed cock and thick balls. She pulled until the underwear until they were at his ankles, and then guided them from his feet. Turning her attention back to the mouth-watering delight before her, she leaned in gently and began tracing the pulsating vein with her tongue, sensing the shaft hardening, she caressed it with her hands and began masturbating him slowly. Grasping it in her hands, she placed it between her breasts and ran it along the silky skin as she kissed the bulbous head in homage. Flicking her tongue along the tiny slit, she listened to his guttural moans and delighted in the fact that she had not forgotten the tricks of pleasing a man, and in pleasing him, she may win back the pictures more easily. Letting her left hand slip downward, she gently cupped his balls and began rubbing them as she slid her warm mouth over his cock head and began sucking it rigorously. The precum gathering at the tip of his cock let her know that he was fully enjoying the experience as well as she lapped up the sticky fluid. In moments, his ass was bucking from the chair as he slid his pulsating cock deeper into her mouth, fucking it in a steady rhythm. Just before he came, he forced his throbbing cock from her mouth. "I want to cum on your tits!" he growled. She grabbed both of her ample breasts in each hand and held them in front of his engorged member. In moments, thick globs of white cum shot from his cock and landed heavily on the ivory skin of her breasts. He watched in delight as the cum slithered over her nipples, and left her tits gleaming in a cum-drenched glaze. As she looked down at the sight of her drenched tits, she felt the stirrings of shameful pleasure. "Clean it!" he demanded as he pulled her face towards his still dripping cock. She groaned internally as she once again placed her mouth over his spent cock and began licking up the salty tasting remnant of his seed until she had cleaned it thoroughly. She relished the taste of his essence as the last drops slipped down her throat. Any thoughts that he was finished with her now, were soon proven wrong. "Turn around now. I want to see your ass." She felt a slight hesitation at the new demand, but knew resisting him would bring dire consequences. She returned to her hands and knees and presented her ass like an obedient slave. "Reach behind you and pull your ass cheeks apart. I want to see that puckered little hole of yours." "Please don't make me do that," she pleaded. "I have done what you wanted. You saw me naked, I even sucked your cock, is that not enough?" she plead all the more. "I will decide what enough is, and until that time I expect you to do whatever you are told swiftly and without complaint. Any hesitation on your part, and the whole world will be seeing what I am now looking at. Now spread that ass wide you nasty little whore!" He thundered. His words reminded her that she was a hostage. Held ransom for a group of dirty pictures she had carelessly submitted to in the past. Hot tears flowed down her face as she surrendered the last of her will and lowered her head to the cold floor to steady herself. Reaching behind her with both hands, she spread her cheeks wide revealing her most private area to him. "What a tight ass. I can't wait to bury my cock in it, but first, I want to watch you play with your pussy!" "Nooo!!! "Dammit! Do as you are told you ungrateful slut!" he shouted as his right hand landed a blistering hot slap to her bare ass. She had known him for only an hour or so, but he was systematically taking control of her. She slipped her right hand between her leg and began moving her fingers along the outer lips and onto the labia. She could lube quick if really turned on, and this promised to be one of those times. Her breathing became more laboured as she approached the top of her clitoral hood and began teasing the clit, much to Evan's amusement. Susan was hopelessly lost in her own lust as she teased her clit until it hardened and her vagina longed to be filled. "Slip your fingers in and fuck yourself. Don't stop until you cum," Evan commanded from his vantage point. Slipping two digits into her gaping hole, she began fucking herself. Without even thinking about it, she let a finger of her free left hand slip down and rub the perineum until she was helplessly lost in lust. She knew where her G-spot was and went for it with all she had. She could feel it getting more and more engorged as her orgasm formed. She pressed against the rigid insides of her cunt until she was spilling her juices rapidly and soaking her inner thighs. The orgasm erupted with incredible force from deep inside her belly as she literally screamed out in intense pleasure. Wave after delirious wave overtook her until she found herself gasping for breath, and her body trembling. With her head resting on the floor, and her ass sticking straight up in the air, she was slowly recovering when she felt his hard cock pressing against her tight asshole. She had never let a man fuck her there before, and the thought of it was both terrifying and exciting. "No!" She screamed out of pure instinct before his hand covered her mouth and muffled her screams. He would take her like the Dom he was, and regardless of her natural instinct to avoid it, she secretly welcomed it. Pinning her hands to the small of her back, he took his 8 inch cock and guided it to her asshole. Because of her tightness back there, it took some pressure to force its way inside. Once in, he held it for a moment to let the anal muscles adjust and give her a chance to catch her breath. His massive cock felt as if it would rip her ass apart, but he began thrusting harder into it. She focused all of her energy on trying to relax her asshole. In moments she felt another sensation. He began spanking her ass while he fucked her. Her ass cheeks were stinging from his relentless assault, and her anus was being stretched to its limits. Eventually releasing his grip from her arms, he grabbed her hips and began hammering his cock up her ass, causing her tits to slap together and bounce with every thrust. Said the Spider to the Fly The pain soon subsided and was replaced by a feeling of intense arousal unlike any she expected. She could tell he was close to cumming, and she wanted desperately to reach between her legs and rub her swollen clit. She felt his cock spasm followed by the hot jets of cum fill her stretched hole. Pulling slowly out of her asshole, he watched his own cum drip from her gaping hole and onto the floor below where it mixed with the puddle of her existing juices. "Get on your knees and face me!' he demanded. She groggily complied. "Now clean that cock. You can taste your own ass," he growled. Susan did as she was told, despite the growling in her stomach from such a filthy act. He slide his still erect cock in and out of her mouth and at one point she felt as if he would cum down her throat, and to her own amazement, she would not have minded it at all. After she had sucked his cock clean, he retreated to lean against a nearby table and lit up a cigarette, content with the fact that he had broken this filly. Her legs wobbled as she slowly rose to her feet. She brushed the dishevelled hair from her eyes and looked at her clothes piled by his feet. "Give me my clothes. I have to go." She said in a weak voice. "I will decide when you leave, not you." "Please. You got what you wanted. Now give me the pictures and let me go." He glanced at the pictures on the nearby table as he puffed on his cigarette. It was too early in the game to give them up now. How far would she go to get them back? What was her limit? He had to find out. "Tonight was good, but not enough to cover the cost of those pictures. We will have to meet again, and then I will decide whether to give them to you or not." "You bastard! After what you did to me tonight, I have paid for those pictures twice over. Now give me clothes. I am tired, and I just want to go home." Evan watched as Susan clutched her hand over her crotch and squeezed her legs together. She lowered her head, trying to avoid eye contact with Evan as she fought the desperate need in her bladder. "I have to use the rest room, where is it?" she murmured. "Right here," he remarked as he kicked a blue plastic bucket from under the table, and sent it across the floor until it stopped in front of her. "You can't be serious." she gasped as she looked down at it, then back at him. "I am always serious. You want your clothes, piss in it. Otherwise, you can drive home butt naked. I really don't give a shit," he sneered. With the last strand of dignity stripped from her, she slowly squatted over the bucket and began emptying her clamouring bladder into it. As Evan enjoyed his cigarette, the image of her naked in the middle of the room squatting over a bucket to relieve herself while she bowed her head in shame was one of priceless submission. As Susan stood before a full length mirror to dress, she saw the pictures on the table in the background. Deep inside, she was relieved that he refused to give her the pictures for now. How far would he take her? What depths would she allow herself to sink to pay for them? The battle of wills had now became a test of endurance. Which of them would tire of the game first and forfeit the photographs, remained to be seen.