Limits

"I'm not sure I can believe you Chris," Donna told her friend as they sat together having lunch. "Not that I don't believe what you're saying isn't true, but that what your brother's friend told him isn't," she added trying to clarify and mollify her friends hurt look.

"Pete has never lied to me," Chris stated, "and I know he wouldn't have told me all this if he didn't honestly believe it too!" she added. "Which is why I decided to come to you with it, if anyone could look into it, I know you could, especially with all your connections!"

"I don't know Chris," Donna sat thinking it over, "too much hearsay for one, and if what your brother's friend told him is really true, it might be next to impossible to even prove it unless someone was idiotic enough, and willing enough to somehow get inside under cover as it where. Donna paused momentarily as her sharp mind tried to find some sort of solution, though she just couldn't see any way around it given the information that she had. "And to be honest, I can't think of anyone in their right mind who'd be willing to even do that!"

"What about you?" Chris asked. "You've sort of done things like this before haven't you?" she asked, "Which is why I told Pete I'd come to you in the first place. If this really is going on, if it's for real, don't you think someone should expose that it is and inform everyone?"

It could indeed be a big story, especially if it was true. But finding a way to actually prove that it was might prove to be next to impossible.

"There's a big difference between my pretending to be a care-taker at a home for the Elderly and something like this," Donna went on. "All I had to do there was basically keep my eyes and ears open, help out a little with the help of the trusted staff, and eventually discover who it was that was actually molesting all those women. This is a hell of a lot more complicated than that. I couldn't just observe things the way I did there, I'd have to pretend to go along with everything for a while until I was trusted enough to be accepted. And after what you've just told me, I'm not sure that I could, I'm not sure anyone could for that matter."

"Well, perhaps you're right," Chris said dejectedly. "It was just a thought, but I thought at the very least I would mention it to you, see if you were interested in looking into it."

At just thirty-three years of age, Donna Jones was a highly regarded, very well respected investigative reporter. Aside from the Care Center report she had done, which had eventually helped the police capture and convict an individual who'd been working there for years, Donna had also gone under cover, eventually exposing a Prostitution ring at a well known and up until then, highly regarded health spa, as well as numerous other though not as highly publicized stories. She was good at what she did, having several connections as well as a team of very efficient experts with various skills that she often tapped into in order to help her in uncovering her stories and bringing about the truth.

Donna wasn't afraid to get her hands dirty either, short of actually breaking the law, doing whatever it took which had at times included her wearing disguises as her face and identity were often too well known. But as she sat there thinking about what her friend Chris had just told her, she couldn't for the life of her find a way to get inside on this one, short of actually pretending to go along with it for a time, put up with what she knew would eventually prove to be a harrowing experience if nothing else, before she'd have enough proof to substantiate her story and expose everyone involved. She was good, but she wasn't sure she was good enough, let alone emotionally strong enough to pull this one off.

"Let me think about it for a while," Donna said picking up the check as they finished their lunch together. "In the meantime, tell Pete to tell his friend not to say or mention this to anyone else, if I do decide to look into it, it could jeopardize any real hope of exposing this, especially if someone becomes aware that either I, or someone else might be, not to mention my safety," she added as a concerned thought.

In her line of work, Donna had known there was some risk, but she'd always taken precautions before hand to ensure her own safety. In this situation, there wouldn't be much she could do to honestly protect herself should she be discovered. This time, she really would be placing herself out there on a limb.

"I'll do that," Chris told her assuring her. "But promise me, if you do decide to look into this, you'll be careful, don't take any unnecessary chances or risks if it means your safety, or perhaps even your very life. Pete's friend said these people can get pretty rough, and he meant that very seriously!" she cautioned.

"I will, and I'll keep that in mind," Donna told her friend, and then headed back to her office to give this some more thought, do a little research, though she didn't expect to find much that would initially help her going in.

If there really was much truth in what she'd been told, then this would be a difficult nut to crack, the people involved where very careful, did a lot of background research themselves, had people investigated and followed before ever permitting them to be trusted enough to use once they'd been trained.

She didn't know if she could even do that to begin with. Donna would be required to act and behave in ways she had never imagined before or even thought possible.

#

"I don't know Donna," Jerry told her after listening to her for the better part of an hour. "This would be the deepest you'd ever had to go without much of a safety net," he said telling her what she already knew. "And I'm not sure Dan would even go along with it to begin with," he added.

Jerry was her best male friend and co-worker. He was also the best brain with the best technological background she knew. If she ever needed or wanted anything, Jerry could find a way to get it, which had included faking I.D.'s as well as a complete new identity with history behind it if she needed it, which in this case, she would. As for Dan, he was the owner and managing editor of the newspaper she worked for. Though she was more free-lance than a hired on employee, she had worked exclusively for Dan, and had earned a decent enough salary in doing so.

"We're not going to tell Dan anything about this," she told her friend. "Not until I've got a lot more to go on, then we'll bring him into it," she told him. "If what Chris told me is true, then there are too many people in high enough places that they could bury all of this, including me if I don't find and get the proof that we need first before going to Dan with any of this."

"I still don't like it," Jerry told her. "But I'll be there every step of the way if I can," he added already knowing as he said that, that Donna had already made up her mind. "So, what are you going to title this story if you do manage to expose it?" he asked.

Donna laughed, "Oh I don't know, something along the lines of 'The Stepford Wives meet the Marquis De'Sade?" she said.

"God Donna, just the sound of that sends chills up and down my spine," he told her.

"Yeah, me too," she said seriously, already feeling them.

#

As Jerry began work on giving Donna a complete new identity, which anyone having access to the network would easily be able to find, Donna began her own initial research on the company in question, a perfectly legitimate one on paper, and one that was also highly regarded in the industry, yet low key just enough to fly just under the radar where it mattered.

She brought up their web site. It looked just like a number of other temporary hiring/placement agencies that specialized in temporary part-time help for numerous Fortune 500 Companies for which it served. Donna shook her head wondering, just how many placements where there, where the type of activities going on were actually happening? Real? It could also be entirely false, some disgruntled ex-employee with a chip on their shoulder hoping to seek revenge for all she knew, though she'd been given assurances from Chris that this wasn't the case.

Pete's friend had stumbled into it, though even this was a "friend of a friend's" sort of thing, and Donna had learned through experience that most of the time, those sorts of rumors and accusations never panned out. Pete had insisted however, to Chris, that what that friend had told him was held in the strictest of confidence, bragging about it to him, exclaiming the truth of it, and sadly enough, how exciting it had been for him to have personally experienced it on top of all that.

"Women hired, and then trained and placed to be willingly humiliated, abused, and even tortured, all for the amusement of other men and women in high places, in highly respected positions, for well known companies and organizations, all under the guise of temporary help," Donna mused while reading through "O.B. & D Services," which stood for Office, Business and Document Services, specializing in temporary employee placements.

It was again all legit, on paper. There was nothing that she could find anywhere, where there were any filed complaints against the agency. Any firings had come from just cause, each one thoroughly and appropriately documented, but even those were far and few between. Even so, Donna knew Jerry would be thorough in checking those out.

What was odd to her in comparison to most of the other similar agencies, were the disproportionate amount of accolades and letters of excellence that the organization proudly displayed on their website, proclaiming their years of professional service to the community, backed by hundreds and hundreds of letters of support and recommendations by a majority of the major Corporate organizations and leaderships.

Donna could only sit there and wonder just how widespread and how far this really went, if any of it were in fact even true. She still had no real basis in fact to go on, nothing more than a mere rumor really, and a totally unsubstantiated one at that.

"What the hell am I doing?" she asked herself as she picked up the phone and dialed Jerry's number. As always, he knew who was calling him before he'd even answered.

"You're in," he said simply picking up the phone. "You've got an interview at nine in the morning, I'm faxing over your work history, back ground history and identifications. You'll need to drop by my place for the hard ID however on your way in tomorrow. I'll have it ready for you by then," he assured her.

No longer a blond, Donna had gone with a dark brunet look, including fairly expensive hair extensions which she added, giving her shoulder length hair a fuller, longer appearance which now fell well down to the middle of her back. In addition, even going so far as to get contacts, which now made her eyes green rather than blue. Even Jerry had been amazed at the transformation with a little change in makeup and eye shadow along with her sunglasses, which did well to hide her real look and true identity.

"You sure no one will recognize me?" she asked for about the tenth time.

"About as sure as we can be," he'd told her. "You haven't done anything significant in several months now, so you've pretty much kept your face off the news."

"Gee thanks," Donna said sarcastically.

'You know what I mean," Jerry told her. "Most of what you do is behind the scenes anyway, you've never been one to seek that kind of exposure, so I'm still reasonably confident with the new disguise, no one will know who you really are, and your new name, education and work history are bullet-proof, even if they send someone out to interview the people we have in place, they'll all verify you are who you say you are, so we should also be covered there too."

"Let's hope so," she told him. "We had to call in an awful lot of favors on this one," she added.

"Yeah, but a lot of them owed you those favors too," he reminded her. "If it hadn't been for you, some of them wouldn't be where they are now, or have the kind of justice given them that each one of them deserved to have either."

"Yeah, I know, but it was never my intention for any of them to feel obligated to me in anyway because of my help either."

"They all know that," Jerry reassured her. "They're just trying to do for you, what you did for them, so that you can hopefully do what you're about to do now in helping a few others who may no longer realize or even hope that anyone will. Right now kiddo, you might be their only hope in exposing any of this."

#

It wasn't the interview she was nervous about. Donna knew she'd breeze through that with no problems, it was getting noticed, without being noticed that concerned her. Everything else was in place, as well as it could be. She met all the criteria from the little bit they had been able to dig up and gather. She was new to the city, had no real family to speak of, her parents having long ago died, no sister's no brothers, aunts or uncles. A loner. She came from a typical midwestern background, smart without being too overly intelligent, she'd attended a trade school too poor to graduation from college, with just enough skills to get her by. Slightly above average looks, had competed in a few beauty pageants, none of which she'd ever won, though coming in as first runner up once.

She read through her bio and background again until she felt she knew it by heart. The problem was, was it enough? Was it too much? There was no real way of knowing. All she could do was go through the interview and hope for the best. After that, it was entirely up to fate the way she saw it. This was an investigation that could end right here before it had even began.

There was one small tiny piece that she had insisted Jerry include, they had argued about it initially, until she'd convinced him about the wisdom of hiding it somewhere in her background, hinting about it perhaps when required to fill out all the necessary forms which Jerry had gotten for her to look at well before hand so that they knew everything they'd need to have.

For Jerry, breaking into the Oklahoma City Police files and leaving a false record of a man Donna, now Linda Franks had once been married to was of no moment. That he had been convicted of drug abuse as well as physical abuse was just one of many such files that remained in their archives, though his was also marked as "deceased" from a drug over dose shortly upon his release. But it wasn't even this extra tid-bit of information they'd established which was as important, as the one where by Linda's own admission, she'd never reported the physical abuse to the police, because she'd never seen it as being that. Some other concerned neighbor had been the one to report it, and had she not, chances were Linda's husband might never have been found out.

Donna had swung by Jerry's apartment with plenty of time to pick up her new ID's including a drivers license, passport, social security card (all appropriately worn and weathered looking to boot) and spent a few additional minutes going over a last few minor details. Then she was off to the offices of OB & D Services.

She spent the first few minutes of her appointment filling out all the appropriate forms, all of which she'd already seen and had become familiar with well before hand. There was nothing new there.

"Mrs., Franks?"

"Miss Franks," Donna corrected the receptionist as she stood and followed the woman into a small tiny little conference room where she was told that one of the reviewers would be meeting with her shortly, and then watched the young friendly receptionist leave closing the door behind her.

Donna didn't think there would be any hidden cameras within the room, no reason for it, but she purposely didn't sit there looking around for any either just in case that there was. She acted appropriately nervous without being too nervous, and waited. Just a few moments later a young, certainly younger looking man than she was entered the room.

"Miss Franks," he said getting her marital status right, obviously that small point had been addressed prior to his coming into the room. Donna stood taking his hand, shaking it.

"I'm Dave Elliot," he said in greeting, "please take a seat, and make yourself comfortable."

"Thank you," she told him sitting down, and then waited quietly as Dave scrutinized all the required forms she'd filled out. He then asked one or two additional insignificant questions, seemingly satisfied.

"It looks like everything's in order," he told her. "But if you'll wait for just a couple of more minutes, I'd like to pass this by one of the executives, if she has any additional questions she'd like to ask, I'll come and get you and see you to her office. If not, then you'll be free to go now and wait for our call."

"Ok, thank you," Donna said once again sitting and waiting patiently as he left. As she sat, her mind quickly ran through the all the corporate names she had looked at, one in particular coming to mind, Sylvia Grant. She had seen her photo, though she was sure it didn't truly do her justice. The one thing that was strange about it, was the way she wore her nearly white-blonde hair, in a pinned up quaff reminiscent of a late forty's early fifty's type of hair-style, though many of those had once again become popular. Problem was, according to the various photos Donna had been able to dig up on her, or rather the one's that Jerry had, she'd been wearing it that way for a lot longer before it had become vogue once again to do so.

The door opened. Dave was smiling. "If you have a few extra minutes, one of our chief executive officers would like to speak with you for a moment."

"Certainly," Donna responded, and then followed Dave out back into the office area, down a short hallway, and then through a door which opened into what appeared to be much more extravagant and lavishly decorated executive style offices. She looked up at the nameplate on the door as Dave knocked.

"Sylvia Grant" Donna smiled inwardly as she heard the invitation to come in, which Dave did only so far enough to open the door for her, allowing her to go by, then stepping back and closing it. Donna noticed that her file lay open on Sylvia's antique mahogany styled desk.

"Linda?" Sylvia said addressing her by her first name, extending her hand to Donna as she did so. "Sylvia Grant," she acknowledged herself as Donna took it, shaking. "Please sit down."

Donna sat, taking a deep purposeful breath, though trying to look like she hadn't as Sylvia once again flipped through a few pages of her application.

"Only have one or two additional questions to ask you about," she began.

"Go right ahead," Donna told her sounding a bit nervous.

"I noticed that on your application you indicated that you're currently single, and though this is a voluntary question that you're not legally obligated to answer, nor that we even require, the reason I'm asking you about it, is that I also noticed one other entry on the back where you also indicated that you had been married at one time. But since you didn't check or indicate divorced, I felt I needed to ask you about it."

"Yes, well, my husband's dead," Donna told her though without an ounce of regret when she said it.

"Oh, I'm sorry."

"Don't be, it was a life-time ago," Donna responded back.

Donna watched, as Sylvia appeared to make a few notes, scribbling something on the forms. She noticed the woman as she did so, smiling to herself. She looked every bit the way her photo's depicted her to be, though taller than she had imagined reaching at least six feet. She was properly attired in a business suit, not looking too overly sexy, yet exuding her sensuality and sexuality all the same. If there was ever a picture of a Dominatrix, she was it. All she needed now was an old style German officer's cap, a whip and some sort of tight leather or latex body garment and she'd perfectly fit the bill.