Primal Nature

by Monique Singleton

  Soaking in the hot bath she relaxed and decided to just wait and see. In any case it ruined any chance of finishing the mission this weekend. With so much security it would be impossible to leave the compound, even in the manner that they had chosen. The risks were just too high. Not that she’d had any real chances up till now. But she remained alert for any moment of relaxation on the side of Ortiz.

  The dress was astonishing. It fit her like a glove. The clinging material followed every curve of her body and the colour contrasted fantastically with her bronze skin. The lace gave it the extra feminine detail. It was chic and sexy at the same time. Absolutely fantastic.

  The makeup applied by Dulce was the finishing touch. It accentuated her unusual exotic ochre eyes. Her hair was fixed up in a simple but very effective way.

  She was admiring the result in the mirror when Croc barged in the room to announce that she was expected. He stopped his summons mid-sentence, too astounded to continue. She turned slowly and enjoyed the moment.

  ‘You are summoned… uh…expected’ he stammered, ‘follow me’ regaining his composure he turned and walked to the door, holding it open for her. She glided out of the room, the hem of the dress lightly touching the floor, enhancing the image that she was floating, her feet never touching the carpet.

  Croc led her to the formal ballroom. It was decorated with thousands of flowers and the scents were overwhelming. Her entrance stopped all conversation as she moved through the large crowd that had already amassed. All the guests were dressed in formal evening ware. Men in tuxedo’s, white and black, women in long dresses in a multitude of colours. These were not the whores of an earlier party, but the wives and trophies of the VIPS. Women of class.

  The crowd parted for her, whispering their admiration and jealousy. Many a man became the recipient of an elbow from his spouse in an attempt to stop his eyes from bulging out of their sockets. At the end of the tunnel of people stood Ortiz, beaming. When she was a few feet from him, he stepped down from the dais and walked the last steps to her. She held out her hand and he pressed his lips to her fingers.

  ‘You look ravishing, my dear,’ he whispered, just loud enough for the people near to hear. ‘Clearly the belle of the ball, thank you.’

  ‘Thank you, my love’ she purred in return, ‘As always your choice of a dress is impeccable’ acknowledging that he was the one responsible for her perfect attire. Taking his arm, she allowed him to lead her to the dais. Ortiz stopped them in front of a couple flanked by the security chief and another muscle-bound brute in a tux. Ortiz turned to the man.

  ‘Please allow me to introduce the love of my life. Tonal’ turning to her.

  ‘My dear, allow me to introduce you to the Honorable Raimundo Esposito, El Presidente, and his beautiful consort, Señorita Salina.’ Tonal did a small curtsy towards the President, bowing her head as was expected. So that was the mystery guest, well they didn’t get very higher up the ladder than this.

  ‘Your beauty seems to have stopped conversation my dear’ the President remarked ‘quite an achievement in this gathering.’ Looking up she saw the amusement in his eyes and smiled. Glancing to the woman next to the President, she was surprised by the out-and-out hostility that emanated from the beautiful eyes.

  ‘I am sure that it pales by the radiance of your beautiful lady’ she cooed. The hostility in the air lowered a degree, she resolved to try and make the woman feel more at home. ‘I cannot come close to your beauty and elegance’ aiming her comment to Salina who acknowledged the compliment with one of her own.

  ‘Your dress is as if it was made of air, beautiful.’ More compliments followed, from both men and others in the inner circle. Tonal noticed that Salina only complimented her attire, never her person. It would take a lot longer and more than idle compliments to win this one over.

  She observed the other woman; a petite dark beauty. The lines in her face attended to her Latin ancestry, but the mocha colour of her skin implied other race influences. She was beyond doubt extremely beautiful, with thick long jet-black hair that flowed beyond her hips almost down to the back of her knees. Her figure was impeccable. Tonal estimated her age at somewhere between fifteen and twenty. Despite her small stature and young age, she oozed strength. This was a very strong-willed young lady. Not one to dismiss easily.

  Raimundo Esposito was a tall thin man of about sixty, his face was soft and friendly, his eyes though were hard and cold. He was comfortable in his stature, totally relaxed in these surroundings and his status. Fully content to leave his safety to the hired help, he was here to enjoy himself. Impeccably dressed in the latest fashion for formal ware, his tie and pocket handkerchief were in the exact same hue as Salina’s dress. Esposito continued his casual bantering as he downed his champagne.

  A white clad servant appeared at Ortiz’s side with a new tray of champagne, after Esposito had taken one glass, Ortiz took two, offering one to Tonal and one to Salina. He took a third for himself and dismissed the servant with a wave of his hand. The four of them were once again the only ones on the dais—the central focal point of the party.

  CHAPTER SIXTY-SIX

  Salina was definitely a beautiful woman. But cold and distant. Her eyes weighing everyone and everything and finding them wanting. This was not an easy woman to please.

  The President held on to her arm in a way that was not exactly friendly. His fingers left red welts where they had obviously been holding her too tightly. Initially she seemed fragile, so small—petite really—but on closer look she was hard as granite. She had a will of her own, one that did not always find itself in line with the President’s. During the evening she never openly contradicted him, but her demeanour was enough. It was clear that she was bored, the luxury of the party was not making an impression. Later on, the President gave up trying to steer her in the direction of his liking, and just let her do what she wanted.

  Unlike him, she was sparse with alcohol—staying alert. She was also quite outspoken in her interest of the younger men in the official company. Ortiz’s brother interested her for a few moments. But none could measure up to what she wanted and nearing the end of the evening she once again turned her charm and attention to El Presidente. He was used to her switching moods and not the slightest bit annoyed or surprised at her change.

  She eyed me suspiciously for the first part of the evening but lightened up when it became clear that the President wasn’t interested in me. Oh, sure he acknowledged my beauty, admired the dress and what he could see of my body. But it never excited him like the other men around. Ok with me. I had my hands full with Ortiz.

  His time would come later.

  CHAPTER SIXTY-SEVEN

  The evening progressed easily with a lot of banter and casual conversation. Ortiz and Tonal stayed in the neighbourhood of the Presidential couple all evening. They sat together at the immense dining table for the fantastic five-course gourmet dinner. And later retired to the second dais opposite the stage specifically built to offer the best place listen to tonight’s concert featuring the best artists of the decennia.

  Finally, in the early hours of the morning, the President retired to his suite of rooms. Slowly the other guests left, and the servants started to clean up. Ortiz took Tonal by the hand and led her to his quarters. He was friendly and even tender that night. It was also the first night that Croc was not in the room the whole time. Sr. Esposito was also high on the list of the resistance and would have been a nice bonus. A shame that she could not make use of the circumstances, but it was impossible.

  In the morning, after a sumptuous buffet breakfast, the President and Salina left, thanking Ortiz extensively for his hospitality. Even Salina was all smiles and hugs.

  Ortiz remained a gentleman for another hour while they had coffee at the side of the pool and chatted about the party. It was quite surreal.

  ‘I will send for you again soon.’ Ortiz stood up, kissed her briefly on the cheek and so dismissed her. Turning back, he added as an afterthought.
‘You did well.’

  Surprised at the change in Ortiz’s demeanour, she called for Dulce and left the pool. Gathering her things and leaving the beautiful dress hanging on the dresser’s dummy, they packed and left the compound. Both were a bit disappointed that they had still not been able to fulfil their mission and that they would have to keep up the façade and come back again.

  It didn’t take long for Ortiz to send for her. She had been in the hotel for two days when Croc showed up at her door, demanding that she leave with him. He was obviously disgruntled at being sent as a messenger and his temper was showing. Dulce raced to pack a small bag with the necessary items for a short stay. She wasn’t quick enough to his liking and when she stumbled with the bag he hit her across the face with his flat hand. Tonal felt the hairs on her back stand up, the claws ready to burst through, but feigned indifference. After all, Dulce was only her servant. Red faced and starting to swell near her left eye, Dulce doubled her speed and within five minutes they were seated in the car heading back to the compound.

  Ortiz wasn’t there when they arrived, she was ordered to wait at the pool edge. After more than two hours he arrived in a foul mood, covered in sweat and what looked like blood. Indicating she follow him, he strode to the immense bathroom in the main building. Tonal helped him undress and was rewarded with a back handed slap to the face. The result almost identical to that of Dulce. She knew enough not to comment or ask what the problem was. After a long and languid bath, where she was expected to wash his back and he almost drowned her pushing her head under water to administer to him, his mood was somewhat better.

  She dried herself off and dressed back in the clothes she had come in. Finally asking what was on his mind.

  Observing her closely he recounted the mornings activities. The mayor of one of the villages in his domain had come forward to warn him about a possible attempt on his life. The only hope the mayor had of diminishing the fall out shattered when Ortiz rode into the town with the mercenaries and proceeded to slaughter not only the alleged perpetrators but also all their families and neighbours. The mayor’s son being one of the innocent bystanders. Usually this would have improved Ortiz´s mood, but the thought of an attempt so soon after the President’s visit was bothering him. The mayor had said that the traitors initially wanted to kill the President and that was not a rumour that Ortiz wanted spread around. The party had been an enormous political success and he wanted it to remain so. His rage sated, he calmed down. Outside Tonal could hear the sounds of the mercenaries with one of the young girls they had taken from the village as bounty. The girl was screaming, the men laughed. Looking out of the window she saw that they had her hanging upside down over the edge of the lions’ enclosure. The lions bellowed, frustrated that their prize was just out of reach. The bullies tired of the game and pulled the luckless girl back up and tore the clothes from her body. She and the other two girls that had been taken were ravished by a large number of mercenaries.

  Turning back Tonal joined Ortiz on his couch, seemingly oblivious to the violence outside the building.

  After a long and boring meal, they watched the latest stream in the cinema room. Dulce and Croc as always near, then retired to the bedroom. Once again, the old Ortiz was back, as he hoisted her up by her arms and abused her. But the drive was gone, and he tired of the games quickly. Ordering Croc to untie her, he let her clean the blood and gore from her body and join him in the vast bed. Totally unexpectedly, he sent Croc away. ‘Go have some fun with the bitches.’ Ortiz added.

  ‘They are spent.’ Croc answered. Earlier they had heard the sound of at least one of the girls being thrown over the edge and the lions fighting over her body.

  ‘Maybe I’ll take the maid.’ It was not a real question, but he needed Ortiz´s permission.

  ‘Why not?’ Ortiz laughed, looking at Tonal.

  Her blood as cold as ice in her veins, she feigned indifference. ‘Whatever.’ This was not part of the plan. It had always been possible, but she had pushed it from her mind, sure that she would be able to prevent it from happening. The smile on Croc’s face broadened. He sensed that she was unhappy with the situation, but there was nothing she could do. Finally, he had her over a barrel. If he couldn’t have her again, then her petite servant was a nice pass-time. He would not kill her—Ortiz would not be pleased—but he could certainly hurt her a bit and have some fun.

  Ortiz grabbed Tonal as Croc closed the door behind him. He pulled her close to him and started to pinch her breasts. ‘The bruises are gone, my dear, I will give you new ones.’ Her mind raging, she forced herself to play the game. Wincing at the pain he inflicted. Distracted she forgot to stop the healing process and the bruises disappeared almost as quickly as they came. This enraged Ortiz, and he intensified his administrations. Remembering—but too late—she tried to halt the healing process. Ortiz was piping mad again. He rolled her over, straddled her and grabbed her by the throat, folding his hands around and squeezing hard enough to bring up bruises and almost stop her breathing.

  She had had enough.

  Grabbing his wrists, she pulled his hands from her neck.

  His eyes bulged, surprised at the enormous strength she had. Speechless, he strained to retain his grasp on her neck, to keep control of the situation.

  The hairs were starting to grow through her skin on her back, and she let them come. Finally enjoying the familiar tingling of the change. Pulling his hands from her and in the meantime breaking his right wrist, she threw him off her and changed the tables. Sitting on him she slowly let her muzzle form, her claws pushing through and pinning Ortiz to the bed. His stupor was replaced by mind-blowing terror.

  ‘Now it’s your turn’ the words were contorted by the change of her facial muscles and vocal cords but were clear none the less. Ortiz bladder emptied, he was so terrified by the sight of her muzzle, with the long canine teeth slowly moving to his face and closing around his throat. With a last bout of terror-driven energy he tried to scream and throw this monstrosity off him, but it was too late. She had his neck in her jaws and bit down, almost severing the head. She held on for a few moments more, just to be sure, finally letting out all the pent-up anger at what this tyrant had done to others and to her. The violence, the degradation. At last it was over, her anger bled out with Ortiz.

  Changing back, she cleaned the gore off her body, it would not do to attract attention covered in blood, then pulled a shirt over her naked form and slipped through the door. No one would dare to disturb Ortiz’ slumber until the morning, so she had time. Now she had to get to Dulce and stop Croc from hurting her or worse.

  CHAPTER SIXTY-EIGHT

  She stayed in the shadows of the buildings, listening for the slightest indication of where he had taken her. Moving to the room that Dulce stayed in when she was here, she heard the sound of flesh striking flesh and the intake of breath when it hit. Her scent was strongest here. He had looked her up in the servant’s quarters.

  There was no one around at this time of the night. The servants didn’t dare venture out of the relative safety of their rooms, and the mercenaries were sated with the girls from the village and the booze. Croc’s laughter confirmed that she was at the right place. Peering through the window she saw Dulce tied to the bed naked. She was bruised and bleeding from shallow cuts. Croc was standing over her, an enormous knife in his hand. He slid the blade down her form to the right nipple and mimicked slicing it off. Dulce begged and pleaded, but he continued his cruel game. Throwing the knife to the side he pulled his shirt over his head and unbuckled his pants.

  This was more fun than he had imagined. She was tough and hadn’t cried out until the last few minutes. Mind you, she would have to be strong to be with that bitch. Nice body too. Not the supple muscled form of her mistress, but certainly adequate for now. One of these days he would do away with Ortiz and take over. He had made new friends at the party last week and the President’s security chief had indicated that no one would mourn Ortiz’s passing, shou
ld it occur. That was the backup he needed, so soon—very soon—he would feed Ortiz to his beloved lions. Piece by piece. And then he would be top dog. The bitch would be his. To do with as he fancied. Until he tired of her and she ended up as cat food.

  The thought alone was almost enough for him to climax in his pants. But that would be a shame. First this one. Pushing his pants down he stepped out of them, standing in his boxers.

  A noise at the door spun him around.

  Stunned, he just stood and stared. Tonal was standing in the doorway, totally naked. Her seductive body reclined against the doorpost. The moon shone on her bronze skin and detailed muscle. She was sexier than ever. Not a blemish on that perfect form. Her hair accentuating the curve of her breast as it draped over her upper body.

  ‘Are you really going to waste your time with the hired help?’ Her voice the epiphany of seduction. She slowly moved into the room, closing the door behind her. He couldn’t keep his eyes off her, this magnificent creature that filled his mind every waking and sleeping moment. The need was excruciating. He had to have her, he had to… …

  Coming to his senses, he demanded; ‘what are you doing here? Ortiz let me have her, you have no say in this.’ Her fingernail moved from his shoulder over his pecs to the six-pack he was so proud of, almost but not exactly touching the bulge in his shorts.