What Happens to Little Snoops {darkest_fate&DeviantDesire}

[darkest_fate]

It was rare that an incident would come to the attention of Mr. Diaz, of Sunlit Corporations. The self-made man was not often disturbed. In point of fact, not many of the various workers of the main building nor its many subsidiaries had actually seen Mr. Diaz in action for several years. They all knew him to be getting on in years, pushing toward the upper edge of his forties, but he'd always been a robust man. They simply had to discard the rumors of his more... unsavory tendencies; those rumors that hinted toward a very obvious reason people didn't see him. They sometimes saw girls head into the Diaz mansion, but, as the rumor went, those same girls never came out. Rumor stretched even further, suggesting that, in fact, at least one girl had escaped, escaped and talked of being trussed up in a room, regularly visited with all kinds of... unpleasantries forced upon them. But no one really took those things seriously; Mr. Diaz surely had other things bothering him.

It was rarer still, however, that something would directly call the attentions of Mrs. Diaz. What most didn't realize was that the younger, striking Diaz had been running the true money-making side of Sunlit for ages. They'd been dealing in all kinds of underhanded business for over two decades now, since the then twenty-three year old Mercedes Diaz had first stumbled upon a pair of workers selling drugs during business hours. Things had expanded since then, with the Diaz family using extensive ties to Central America to process numerous substances. Only those in the highest levels of Sunlit knew the truth: that Mrs. Diaz was, simply put, a crime boss.

On some level, Mercedes Diaz looked the part. She quite often wore female pant-suits, most often dark and striped, such as the dark blue one that encased her shapely body today. The woman had always veered to the curvy side, as many Latin women did, with a "smackable" ass and an impressive bust. So far, time, money, and exercise had been kind to all, keeping the woman in an hourglass figure. The tight pantsuit seemed to help in those matters, though few would realize that a corset underneath certainly added to it. Mercedes couldn't fully fight the ravages of time. Were it not for treatments, her ruddy brown hair would possess streaks of gray. Makeup and said treatments prevented wrinkles from appearing, though it did give her an almost harsh mask. Steely gray eyes and tight lips only further added to that, as did the severe, slicked back hair that extended just below her shoulders. The woman carried herself with authority, and proudly tread the line between Bond villain obvious and aging trophy wife.

Now, however, she entered the room where her attention was needed. Her people had find a snoop, some cocky youngster who had dared look into Sunlit's deepest files. According to the information Mercedes received, this girl, and she'd been described as such, had somehow managed to get past their security. This same girl had gotten all the way to Mercedes's own private office. This girl had then somehow managed to get the codes into Mercedes' private files. This girl had then been caught mid-look, but to have gotten so far earned attention. That the girl had been described as "attractive" only further fueled Mercedes's desire to see her. For as even fewer knew: it was not her husband that kept the girls in chambers for days on end.

This girl was in a cell. There was no other word for it. A flat "bed" stood slightly off center; it looked more like a slab of cold steel. One wall contained two-way shatter-proof glass. Another had what looked to be a toilet. Another blank while the last had what appeared to be chains attached. Said room was in the bowels of the Sunlit building, and had been built to Mercedes's specifications. You weren't brought here with the intent of finding your way back out.

The impressive woman stood at the glass, her arms folded beneath her impressive breasts. She stared impassively at the girl on the other side, raking her over with those steely gray eyes. "So, you're the girl who managed to get into my office," said Mercedes, her voice only slightly clipped with an untraceable Latin accent. The Diaz family was supposedly from Mexico, but even that was, like so much, shrouded in a good deal of mystery. "Quite impressive." The woman squinted slightly, staring closely at the girl's face. "It's strange, but I swear I have seen you before. Tell me, girl, why would I have seen your pretty face?"

 

[DeviantDesire]

And what a pretty face it was. Mrs. Diaz's latest captive was a gorgeous, petite young hing. Strawberry blond hair fell in waves down passed her shoulders, currently restrained into a ponytail with bangs left to sweep out across her forehead, contrasting her light complexion. A pair of black glasses adorned her face. She would usually prefer contacts, but sometimes wanted to appear more 'professional,' and this had certainly seemed like a day for that. Her facial features were soft, youthful and feminine, and also noticeably less sharp and stern as the older woman's. Her body was also a clear show of her youthfulness. An open-at-the-top black vest over a white dress shirt covered her top quite modestly, but her small, though youthfully perky breasts were still noticeable underneath, pushing up against the fabric. A pair of black slacks were tight enough that they barely hid her more blatantly feminine feature: curved hips from a thin waist and a rear end that would look plump even for a woman who wasn't the slip of a thing that she was.

Nicole (or Nikki, as both most of her friends and news anchors giving her introductions preferred) Turner was a fresh-out-of-college reporter, working for a local station in the suburb Sunlit Corporations was based out of. A few years back, the then high school senior had been a sheltered, bookish young thing. College had seen to transforming that, however, her newfound freedom and a desire to fit in socially turning her into, quite frankly, one of the (many) campus sluts. Wild parties, with plenty of drinking and the occasional drug forced onto her, had roughly snatched away her innocence. It was nothing she was proud of, and she tried of late to put that side of her behind, but it was a fact.

Despite a lot of unwisely spent time, her natural cleverness had allowed her to do quite well in her classes. Even with that, finding a job in journalism seemed near impossible. Unlike Mercedes, she lacked the certain...authoritativeness that a professional woman needed to be taken seriously, even if she was a serious and rather skilled journalist when allowed to be. So, when she went to interview for the opening at WKTV, it was perhaps unsurprising that her dirty old man of a network executive had made her 'audition' from under his desk. Another blow to the pride of the woman who was trying to put that side of her behind and be appreciated for other talents. Her reputation had spread, clearly, as she found herself the subject of cruel jokes that she would only ever hear little bits of from her colleagues. The sports broadcaster had half forced her out onto a date with him, never calling since, and another of the anchors felt it was his turn next.

But no. This lead of her's would prove them all wrong. She'd be looking down at them after all this, from some fancy nationally-broadcasted gig. The excitement of that had caused her to be somewhat reckless, simply walking alone to the corporation headquarters. There was always whispers of surreptitious things being done at Sunlit, but details were scarce. When an insider had given her a key and vague directions on what to look for, she knew she couldn't take it to her higher-ups. They would prefer to have her on some fluff piece about a cheese festival or an animal shelter, and would send a 'real journalist' to this scoop. So instead, she just walked in to the headquarters one night. Having ducked the security guards quite sneakily, she had found a trove of information on Mrs. Diaz computer. Insider trading, price fixing, reports of income from 'shipments' that no specifics were given on, even inklings of connections to shady South American characters. It was better than Nikki could ever have hoped for.

Until one of the security guards popped in, sneaking up and grabbing her. She had managed to get a few of the files onto a flash drive, which was slipped into her bra just before the guard was upon her. He somehow missed it in his rather thorough and rude search of her, and then brought her into the little cell.

The bare room, along with the fact that she had her cell phone taken from her upon capture, made her more nervous than she tried to let on as she look back into the older Latina woman's eyes. "Maybe you have, Mrs. Diaz," the title she gave was respectful, but the way the uppity young reporter said it was anything but, "I'm a reporter, and one who is quite interested in you and what you've been up to these last few years." 'Few' wasn't exactly accurate, little did she know. "If you brought me here to try to buy me off, don't waste your time. Whatever you have isn't worth what I've found out."

The young girl was naive enough that she apparently didn't yet recognize who was in the position of power, here.

 

[darkest_fate]

Very appealing indeed, with that hair and those glasses. How long had it been since Mercedes had a playmate with glasses? Too long, that much was quite certain. The glasses would stay, and so would that ponytail, at least for the first few rounds. Possibly even the vest too, though, of course, the shirt and slacks would be gotten rid of. Strange that her men hadn't found anything tucked away in one of the pockets. Mercedes frowned at that, and at the girl's story. A reporter, a snoop, and one that Mrs. Diaz certainly didn't appreciate getting this deep into her business. The phone in her pocket beeped and she pulled it out, studying it closely. A few strokes and a file popped into view.

"Miss Nicole Turner, fresh out of college and recently hired by WKTV. Excellent credentials, though your first few years of college were rather disappointing," the woman looked up at her captive, clicking her tongue against her teeth disapprovingly. She looked back down before continuing. "Interviewed with flying colors, and has been working the hard journalist's life ever since. Skilled when let loose, but usually constrained."

The woman looked up from her phone, eyes raking the captive pretty she had before her. Mercedes made women disappear all the time, welcoming them into her lair as the spider did the butterfly. Except this spider didn't mind releasing her flies, though likely with their wings clipped and a few memories to make them terrified of webs.

"So, Miss Turner, do you really think you're in the position to make demands? I caught you trespassing in my personal office, looking at private files. You are neither an investigator nor a member of my staff. In fact," she pressed a few more buttons on the phone. "I believe that your employer doesn't even know you're here. If you'll just wait a moment, I can check on it. Good old 'Chuck' does owe me a favor."

Charles "Chuck" Ronski was the same "dirty old news executive" who had demanded the under the table service from the pretty blonde. Not that Mercedes actually knew that; it was simply that she had a relationship with the news-crew and particularly with Chuck. She had provided him with one of her leftovers; he did so seem to enjoy the girl more after they were broken. Which actually made Mercedes believe that this little firecracker in her cell hadn't experienced 'Good Ole Chuck' before. In truth, Mercedes was hoping that the girl was half as innocent as she looked. It was ever so much fun breaking them when they believed in goodness, light, and keeping themselves for marriage. Mercedes didn't see a cross around the girl's neck though. Shame. Well, the panties would tell; the panties nearly always told.

 

[DeviantDesire]

Nikki skipped a beat as Mercedes mentioned her connections with her boss, immediately frustrated by the slight showing of her intimidation. Still, she acted much calmer than she was. In truth, the fact that Mrs. Diaz had the important bits of her life story all at the click of a button terrified her. There was also the fact that even the brash, naive young journalist could recognize the fact that there was some truth in what the older woman was saying. She had little right to be here, and even less so if this woman had connections with her boss...Though she doubted old Chuck would help her, whether or not it was a friend who caught her or a complete stranger. The rest of the station would probably just have a laugh about it.

"It doesn't matter," she said, doing a fairly good job of sounding more composed and confident than she was, "Have me arrested than. They'll find out about what you've been up to, too." The blonde had the nerve to give a small, teasing smile up at Mercedes, "And I think you know which one of us will be in more trouble, don't you, Mrs. Diaz?" She tried not to think on what exactly Mercedes meant about a 'favor' or why she was owed one from her boss, fearing that would make her lose her bravery.

If she got about to stripping Nicole, Mercedes would find at least a little of the innocence she sought. The captive reporter hadn't (and still didn't, unaware of the older woman's intents) planned to be seen in her underwear today. A pair of run-of-the-mill cotton white panties covered her backside, while her bra was a mismatched yellow color, made of sheer lacy material. Innocent? Maybe not, but she wasn't yet parading herself about in a push-up bra and nothing but a string to cover her ass as the creature Mercedes intended to mold her into might do.

And she was at least trying to regain her innocence after university life had taken it from her, as if such a thing were possible. Those futile efforts would take a turn for the worse, once the little butterfly realized she was so thoroughly caught in the web of this woman.

 

[darkest_fate]

"Miss Turner, dear, stop and think for the moment, yes?" asked Mrs. Diaz, her eyes still raking Nikki's body. "You're a young, eager reporter. I am a respectable businesswoman. Who do you think the police will believe, hmm? The pretty, starry-eyed thing with truth and justice on her side? Or the respected woman who has been helping to fund policeman's balls for the last five years?" As the last words parted Mercedes's lips, she smiled. Of course she'd put some money into the police as well. You would be hard pressed to find a group around here that hadn't seen some of Sunlit's funds in one shape or another. What was truly ironic was that so much of that money was actually legitimate. While Mercedes and her husband obviously had no qualms about underhanded dealings, they also knew full well the benefits of giving back to the community. The more the people liked you, the better off you were as a whole.

Mercedes decided to let that comment stew for a while. She walked, practically sauntered, over to the door, waving a hand to unlock it. A buzz, and Mrs. Diaz walked into the cell where Nikki Turner awaited. The older woman strolled casually about the younger, studying her closely. Her men had claimed to have searched Miss Turner already; they'd removed the standard objects: phone, camera, notepads, but they hadn't found anything like files. Plus, Mrs. Diaz, having smuggled things herself, knew the best place for a woman to hide something. Admittedly, Nikki had less space to hide with than Mercedes, but the older woman doubted that mattered much. She smiled up at the reporter, before reaching up to grab hold of one of those young, perky breasts.

"You are quite the pleasing creature, Miss Turner. I can see why Chuck hired you," she gave the breast a squeeze, moving her hand subtly about. "If you had come to me with that fire in your eyes, asking, no, no," she shook her head, then smiled up at Nikki, "you do not ask, do you? No, you would demand a job. You would stand before someone who had power over you and make demands," Mercedes's hand moved over to began fondling the other breast. It looked, and it very much was, like the motion someone would give when they wanted to tease and squeeze, to feel the soft flesh and take pleasure in it. However, the fingers were also just as obviously searching for something. Her fingers drew across the surface of the mound, working toward the nipple. They'd barely started, however, when Mercedes felt something. She raised her brows, looking up at Nikki with a "what's this?" expression upon her face.

The woman's skilled hands went to undo the vest then. Expert fingers made short work of the vest and were almost as quick on the shirt. when that parted, Mercedes took in what lay underneath. Lacy, and sheer, but not, oddly enough, a color that Mercedes would have selected for that outfit. which meant that Nikki obviously hadn't intended to seduce anyone, yet she still apparently thought that sheer lace was good for an undercover operation. The Latina studied the breasts for much longer than was necessary, before she dived in with one hand. Within moments, she had the flash drive, and she held it between her fingers, right before Nikki's eyes. No words, nothing but the slight tilt of the brows. Mercedes figured she might as well see what the feisty reporter had in mind.