The text read Be at the Holiday Inn on 7th Avenue tonight at 7:00 P.M. that was it. Just one line, one simple command. But it was a command that Julie knew she could not ignore.
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Julie wasn't normally the kind of girl who took orders–she gave them. The branch manager for a major clothing store, she was used to barking the commands and having her subordinates jump to fulfill them. That was the order of things in her world. Or at least it used to be.
Julie Morgan had a good life. She had a successful career and had made a name for herself in the fashion industry. She had created something of an "empire" where when she spoke, people listened. She had a very nice house in a nice neighborhood... yes, Julie seemed to have a tight grip on the world until one day something happened to turn that world on its head.
It was a Friday night and like most Friday nights, she had gone to her favorite club Bottoms Up, to let off some of the workweek stress and mingle with a few friends. Nothing out of the ordinary until, as she was sitting there, a man came up to her. He was decent looking she thought, at least better looking than the majority of the guys there–most of whom were in the latter stages of inebriation.
"So what's a beautiful woman like you doing sitting all alone in a place like this?" he had started with his charm.
"I'm just waiting for my friend," she said, pointing to the ladies' room. There was no friend in there, but she thought it was a polite enough way of telling him she wasn't interested.
It worked, and with a smile, he went back to his stool at the bar. However, after several minutes, he came back again. "It seems your friend has left you here alone. Are you sure you wouldn't like some company?" he asked again.
"No, thank you. Now please leave me alone. I just want to finish my drink in peace," she said. He retreated to his barstool again to lick his wounds. But it wouldn't be the last time Julie saw this man.
A little while later Julie had finished her drink and was getting ready to go home. She took a look at the bar and noticed the man who she had reproved earlier had gone. He hadn't been rude or belligerent; it's just that she wasn't in the mood for flirtatious conversation that night.
Julie had imbibed enough that evening to dull her senses and she didn't notice the car that followed her home from the bar. As she parked on the concrete pad waiting for her garage door to open, the car drove slowly past. She didn't know it at the time, but the driver of that car was the man from the bar. And now he knew where she lived.
A week went by without any more incidents or oddities. Julie had long since forgotten about the man at the bar, writing it off as just another unlucky come-on.
Then on the following Friday, as she was getting ready to leave for work, she went out to her car in the garage and noticed an envelope on the windshield held in place by the wiper. The fact that the envelope was on her car in her garage scared her–she could have sworn that she had locked the side door to the garage.
How could anyone get in to put something on her car? And who would do such a thing? She got in her car quickly, locking the doors before pulling out and driving to work. She didn't open the envelope until she was safely in her office behind the closed door.
Once she was in her office with the door locked and sitting at her desk, she felt it was okay to open the strange envelope. Inside was a typed note:
Hello Julie,
Yes, I know who you are. I know quite a bit about you. I know where you live. I know where you work. I know your car and I know that you are the branch manager there at your store. I also know a few things about your past. Things that might be... uncomfortable given your position there.
You were quite a slut back then, weren't you? And not just a slut but also a thief–it seems you have sticky fingers and a penchant for pretty things. You got away with a lot back in those days, to be sure. But what if your company and your friends learned who Julie Morgan really was? Would they still be as forgiving? And how would your customers and business associates react when they found out–what kind of an image would that give your company?
If you don't want to run the risk of everyone finding out about the skeletons in your closet, be at the Holiday Inn on 7th Avenue, Room 210 tonight at 7:00 PM. Come alone. If you are late or do not show up, I will put the information out to your company and the Internet. Yes, I have pictures and proof of your... exploits.
Julie sat there in stunned silence, staring at the note. There was no signature and no markings on the outside of the envelope. She had no idea who wrote it or what they might have on her. Sure she had done a few stupid things in her past–who hadn't? But what could this person be talking about? And what pictures and/or proof could they have? Julie had grown up in Secaucus, New Jersey. But this was Dallas, some 1,300 miles away. And she had lived in Dallas for ten years now. What could this person know about her?
Work that day was a fog for Julie. She couldn't concentrate and she couldn't think about anything but the note in the envelope. She went back into her memory as far back as she could, scouring her past to try to figure out what this person could know about her and what's more what they wanted to keep whatever it was quiet. Yes, she did have a good job and a very comfortable life. She didn't want anything to disturb or destroy it.
She wasn't rich by any means. She had a good job that paid pretty good but she was no Rockefeller or Rothschild. If it was a shakedown for money, she could maybe come up with $10,000.00 tops and that would take a little time. She would have to cash in some stocks and borrow against her retirement.
Julie watched the clock. She would have to leave right from work, get home, get changed, and get over to the hotel as quick as she could–her mystery appointment left her little time to spare. She almost considered going straight to this meeting from work, but she didn't know what to expect and wanted to be in casual clothes for whatever was to come. Maybe if she looked like a regular housewife and not a big branch manager, he or she wouldn't think she had much money and would just go harmlessly away.
Inevitably 5:00 came and she was ready to leave work. She closed her office and rushed downstairs to her car as quickly as she could... no time for the idle chatter and pleasantries that normally accompanied the end of a workweek. She had to hustle–if whoever this was meant what they said, she didn't want to be late! Julie drove home as quickly as she could safely do, taking the most efficient route.
Once there, she ran into her room and quickly changed out of her work attire and into a pair of comfy jeans, an oversized t-shirt, and a pair of comfy flats instead of her heels. Not knowing what to expect, she tossed her wallet and checkbook into her casual purse, leaving her credit cards at home. Then she left the house and headed to the hotel to meet the stranger.
Arriving at the hotel, she parked her car where she hoped to be able to make a fast getaway. She went inside and straight over to the elevator. On the second floor, she went down the hallway until she found room 210. The door was ajar as if waiting for her. Julie took a deep breath, mentally preparing herself for she didn't know what and pushed the door open a crack.
"H-hello?" she asked peeking inside. She saw no one in the room, so she cautiously came inside. On the table in the main room, she saw a similar note to the one left on her windshield.
Hello Julie, I'm glad you decided to show up. If you will push the button on the VCR under the television, everything is set up for you. You will see a small part of what I have on you and what will be exposed if you should not wish to cooperate. Believe me, when I tell you, there is much more and much worse that I can expose if we cannot come to an understanding.
With shaky hands, Julie pressed the play button on the VCR and sat down to watch. When the screen came on Julie gasped. It was a security tape from a company she used to work for years and years ago. She remembered the office very well–she had worked the late shift for the company.
She watched in horror as the young and impetuous Julie opened the cash register and took out some money, counting it and putting it in her pocket. Then she altered the books to hide the missing money. She remembered that–she had actually done it a few times... never taking much at any one time, only about a hundred dollars or so. But she'd never realized the owners had installed surveillance cameras! She wondered why they had never said anything.
The videotape changed a moment later and showed her walking into a clothing store, presumably with her ill-gotten gains. She went over to the clothing section and while she "browsed" for something to spend her money on, she also found a bra and panty set that she felt at the time she didn't need to pay for, slipping it into her purse then walking up to the counter with her other purchases.
Then the video focused on the desk and the envelope in front of her. His voice came on the audio. "There is a lot more that I have on you, Julie, including pictures of you in college and proof that you never graduated college as you claimed on your application to the clothing store.
"In fact, you got kicked out of college in your third year isn't that right? And why did you get kicked out? For prostituting yourself to your fellow classmates and trying to seduce some of your professors to get better grades! I wonder how your company would view their branch manager after learning about her college days?
"Now, I want you to get undressed down to your panties. In the drawer of the nightstand, you will find a hood. I want you to put the hood on and lie down on the bed in just your panties and the hood. It has a built-in blindfold, but an open mouth. You will be able to breathe just fine, but you won't be able to see. I am watching you so I will know when you are ready."
Julie got a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach. Oh, God! This isn't about money at all! He wants to have sex with me! she thought. That was a thousand times worse than any money blackmail! Her first instinct was to run out of the room as fast as she could, but she knew that would be a mistake.
This man–whoever he was–knew enough to destroy her career and make sure she never worked in this field again. Not to mention getting the police involved in some of her activities. Then she remembered him saying he was watching her and she began looking around for a peephole or hidden camera or something. But she saw nothing unusual or out of place in the room.
Julie realized she was trapped; she had no choice but to do as the man said, as disgusting and sickening as it was. She had too much to lose. She began to cry as she started to undress. She couldn't believe what was happening to her. She couldn't place the sound of the voice–it didn't sound like anyone she knew. But it could be that it was a crappy recording or maybe he disguised his voice somehow.
Julie took off her oversized t-shirt and her bra. She didn't know where the camera or peephole was, so she didn't know which way to turn to hide her toplessness. Hell, for all she knew, he could have the whole room wired and there was no place to hide!
Then she took off her jeans. She was thankful that he allowed her to keep her panties on–that was something at least! She went over and opened the drawer and found the hood he had talked about. She examined the hood closely. The idea of being blindfolded terrified her and she pleaded to the unseen man not to be blindfolded.
"Please whoever you are, please don't make me wear the blindfold. I'll do whatever you want. I won't fight or argue with you. Please! I can't wear the blindfold! Please don't make me wear it!" She turned in circles as she begged, not knowing where to look into the camera.
But there was no reply... only dead, frightening silence. Julie realized that he was not giving her any leniency or reprieve on this. She had to comply with him for this to go forward. She couldn't avoid it and she didn't know how much longer she could stall before he got mad and left the hotel to ruin her.
Julie placed the hood on her head, hoping against hope that all this worked out somehow. She didn't know this man's intentions, except she was pretty sure it had to do with sex. She was keenly aware of her helpless state and she trembled because of it. Julie couldn't see anything with the hood and blindfold, and she strained to hear, but with the carpeted floor it was nearly impossible. It seemed like forever but in reality, it was only a couple of minutes before she heard his voice.
"Now that's a good girl," he said.
Oh my God, he was right beside her! Julie jumped with fright at his voice but settled back on the bed after a moment when nothing happened.
Then he began talking. "Julie, I am not a monster. I am not going to do anything to you that you don't ask for. I didn't bring you here to attack you or molest you. Unless you ask me too, I am not going to touch you, understand?"
"You're not? Then why am I here? And why am I wearing this hood and just wearing my panties?" she asked.
"Because Julie, I wanted you to feel as helpless as you make others feel when they approach you."
"What? I don't understand!" she said.
"Julie, I am a private investigator of sorts and I have done a lot of research on you and I've discovered you have a nasty habit of treating the people you come in contact with like shit. I've talked with and found a great many people you deal with or have dealt with who feel that you have some sort of superiority complex and think that everyone is here to serve you. And because everyone is supposed to be at your beck and call, you treat them like something you scrape off your shoe when you come indoors.
"Well, it's time that you learned a little humility and learned that in order to get sometimes, you have to give a little in return. And to that end, I have decided to teach you a little lesson in humility myself, just so I will know that it has sunk into that pretty little head of yours," he said.
"W-what are you going to do to me?" Julie asked, getting more scared by the minute.
"Oh nothing too terribly traumatic, my dear. As I said I'm not a monster. And you will ask me before I do anything. In fact, you will beg me. You will beg me because you know I hold your life and your future in my hands and if you fail to 'play along' it will result in everything you have worked so hard for crumbling to ash at your feet."
"You're blackmailing me?"
"Oh dear, that word–blackmail–such an ugly word with an equally ugly connotation. No, I much prefer the word encourage... it has a much more positive, happy air about it, don't you think?"
"Well whatever you want to call it, it's against the law!" she said angrily.
"My dear, nothing has gone on in this room that is illegal. I did not kidnap you and drag you here–you came on your own to this hotel room. And I did not force myself on you, in fact, I haven't touched you. As for this whole 'encouragement' thing–I simply told you I have information of a sensitive nature on you, which is the truth.
"If anyone should be worried about legalities, it should be you, Julie. You were the one who committed these crimes. And it's you who was foolish enough to get caught at it. Besides you do not know who I am so even if you went to the police and told them, all you have is that someone–you have no idea who–is trying to blackmail you because you did something illegal back in your younger days. Even my letter to you didn't say anything about money or any other kind of payment to keep me quiet. Not much of a case, if you ask me!" he said smugly.
He was right–Julie couldn't go to the police to help her–she'd be in more trouble with them if she did. And...
