The Twelve Labors of Karen McDougal by jermaine

It was a peaceful Sunday morning, with a slight drizzle and a cloudy sky hiding the unwelcome rays of the morning sun. A great day to be lazy and catch up on some rest. A gentle smile formed on Karen McDougal's gorgeous face as she rubbed her eyes and realized that this afternoon, her boy-toy Irish would be back in her arms. She planned to leave for LAX after lunch, then drag her man back home for some serious sexual gymnastics.

"I neeeeeds my man!" she told the mirror, even as she yawned and stretched her exquisitely toned arms.

A perfect start to a perfect day? Not exactly. The damn phone was ringing! She picked up the insistently ringing line with a polite, "Hello?" then realized the husky female voice on the line was a recording. She nearly hung up on what she considered another annoying telemarketer. But something within her told her this call was different - chillingly so!

"Hello Karen," the voice began. "I hope your Sunday morning is going well. Let me introduce myself. I'm called Aikka. It's unlikely you've heard of me but in some circles, I'm known as Aikka the Pervert. Those who use that name do so to insult me, but I rather like it. You see, I'm a supreme authority on the darkest sexual arts. If pathetic public opinion considers it perversion, I'm its master practitioner."

Karen finally managed to break in and said, "Thanks for that wonderful introduction, Aikka...or whomever. Why exactly should I give a rat's ass who you are or what you do?"

The recording stopped to be replaced by a live voice - the same sinister, husky female voice, "Excellent question, my dear Karen. Are you at all familiar with a most attractive young man who calls himself Irish? Well, he's recently become my house guest, although I have to complain he could show his hostess a bit more courtesy!" Aikka's voice faded and Karen heard faint muffled screams of a male voice close by Aikka's telephone. "Unfortunately, the ball gag in his mouth and the battleship chains around his arms and legs make communication...well, challenging," she went on. "But he IS responding nicely to the slightest little tug on my leather testicle lasso. I can see why you like him so much - he's verrrry expressive, isn't he dear?"

Karen spoke into the phone using a stern, deliberate tone, "I'm warning you, Witch. Get your filthy hands off him NOW. If you harm one hair on his head, I'll kill you with my bare hands."

"Oh, I'm leaving the hair on his HEAD alone, dear. No need to worry. But I find his cute little pubic hair simply irresistible! Forgive me, I can't help myself...." Aikka's voice dropped away, another muffled scream from Irish came through the phone.

"OK, you sick bitch, what's you're game? If it's ransom you want, give me your terms. I have resources."

"No ransom, honey. Something far more delicious," Aikka replied. "I must tell you I loved your performance in ‘The Arena.’ What a cute little gladiatrix...and so brave! Now, Ms. McDougal, I've planned twelve challenges for you, although you may call them ‘labors of love’. Something like Hercules' labors of old. You will face, without prior warning, mortal threats to your life from eleven of the most gorgeous and deadly females in the world. Some you may have met before and let me say, they are especially keen to have another 'go' at you. Others you'll be meeting for the first time but all have been instructed to take your life in the most painful manner possible."

"Now, on the one in a million chance that you avoid defeat and death from all eleven, then - and only then - will I invite you to my own humble dungeon. There, it will be my pleasure to kill you myself, with your dear Irish as the only witness. But, I wouldn't worry about that if I were you. You'll be dead long before that. And HE, by then, will be my completely loyal lobotomized love slave, awaiting my command to drive the dagger through you himself!" Aikka cackled diabolically at the thought.

"Our adventure begins, rather conveniently for you, this afternoon. You had planned to pick Irish up at LAX. Simply keep to the schedule. Park your car and look for my emissary at the Bradley Terminal. He'll give you a one way ticket on tonight's flight to Barcelona. I warn you, I can be very vindictive when disappointed. You, won't disappoint me...will you, Ms. McDougal?"

With that, the phone line went dead. Karen searched her mental inventory of deadly enemies.

Silvstedt? No, this woman had already shown far more cleverness than the Swedish blockhead could muster in a lifetime.

Layla? No, the hood ornament up her butt sent a message not to fuck with Karen McDougal for a while!

Dergan? No, the voice was too different; it had authority, and that definitely wasn’t Lisa's strong suit.

Finally, the light went on! Of course! Cindy "friggin" Crawford. The voice was eerily similar to Crawford's. But just as Karen lips curled up indignantly at the thought, she glanced at her TV. On the screen, Cindy Crawford doing an interview with Brooke Burke, live from Acapulco. There was no way she could've been on that phone line just 20 seconds before!

A chill went up Karen's spine. Aikka the Pervert was a completely new menace. Karen knew she'd have to take this new menace seriously -deadly seriously. Robotically, she packed her things for a trip to Spain. She couldn't concentrate on anything but the memory of Irish’s mournful moaning. Into her bag went wool scarves, two bikini's, sandals and snow boots. She was too distracted to even care about getting a forecast for Barcelona, so she prepared for every kind of weather. In a flash, she was on her way to LAX. The last thing in the world she wanted to do was 'disappoint' the mysterious Aikka.

Karen's only hope of securing Irish’s safe release would be to face, and defeat, all eleven of Aikka's hired killers at eleven different points around the globe. Then, and only then, if she somehow managed to prevail over all eleven of them, she'd earn the privilege of dying at the hands of Aikka personally - with Irish the sole, helpless, witness to her demise! Karen realized she was dealing with a madwoman - but a very determined and committed one. She couldn't afford to offend or disappoint Aikka; her only hope was to survive the gauntlet of twelve labors. According to her instructions from Aikka, Karen's first labor would begin with an overnight flight to Barcelona....