VIPs in bondage – Four

The dark, stretch limousine cruised silently through the cold, deserted streets of Los Angeles, snaking through the streets inexorably towards its destination. It was late at night, just past midnight and in this business area of town on a Saturday night you rarely saw anyone around. The long car wound around one last corner and gently slowed to a stop in front of a non-descript grey stone building, whose windows were tinted out ? not that that was uncommon around here. Almost as it came to a halt the drivers door swung soundlessly open and out stepped an immaculately attired chauffer, his dark suit and tie contrasting with his bright white shirt. He took off his cap and unconsciously brushed at his hair with his hand as he clicked the back door open.

From the darkness inside emerged a long stiletto heel, then another and finally all of Whitney Houston came into the open. Clad in an ankle length, black coat that covered her totally except her head she stood up straight, took a deliberate glance at her diamond encrusted watch and fixed her driver with a withering, cold stare. They were three minutes late, Whitney hated being late and her look told him exactly what she thought of him. He couldn’t bring himself to meet her eyes.