A Desirable Property

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by Nicole Dere


  There was no getting over the fact that it was all a little too weird for me to feel at ease. Koloba, it must be clear to the whole world by now, was as much our kidnapper as Krista and the gang. From the very beginning his soldiers had taken over guard duties, enabling the hijackers to come and go as they pleased. And yet, I realised with growing disbelief, Sir Gordon was treating him as if he were our saviour, as if he personally had saved our lives, snatched us from the jaws of death at the hijackers’ hands.

  The crunch came, though, a little later in the comfortable library, when only the president and Sir Gordon and me were present.

  ‘Things are poised rather delicately,’ Sir Gordon stated smoothly, addressing me. ‘We haven’t given in to your kidnappers, but we’ve made some significant concessions, all in the strictest confidence, of course. There’s no need for you to know the details, but as I’m sure you can guess, negotiations have been going on for months. Considerable measures have been taken to ensure your safety and eventual return. The president,’ he turned with a practised politician’s smile towards the grinning host, and I felt a disturbing surge of fury which took even me by surprise, ‘has been tireless in his efforts for your release…’

  As I listened to his rhetoric I wanted to scream at him. Did he know, for example, that one of the president’s tireless efforts was to have us brought to this very palace, upstairs somewhere, and have us used as entertainment for him and his cronies? And did he know that just two days before he had blindfolded me and fucked me whilst flying in a helicopter over the capital city? I wanted to shout this at the urbane statesman, but I remained silent. Months of captivity, punctuated by the occasional but quite painful punishment, had taught me to hold my tongue… well, at least when it came to asking questions and defending myself verbally. I had learned that if I wanted to remain comfortable, and not have a backside covered with uncomfortable welts, there were better uses to which I could put my tongue.

  ‘The problem is,’ Sir Gordon went on, ‘that there has been so much speculation. Such wild rumours flew about after the release of the other hostages, especially the American girl and the stewardess. One thing we have had to give our word on is that we will suppress publicity as much as possible when you and the rest of your companions are finally released. Even the president’s role in the affair has been called into serious question. There has been so much made of the fact that Leontondese military were used to guard you, when in fact it was the only way President Koloba could guarantee your safety.’

  Nice one, Mr President, I thought, but still I made no comment.

  ‘We thought you could exert your influence over your husband, and Mr and Mrs Freeman…’

  Of course! For the first time since I had been whisked away by the presidential helicopter, I experienced a glimmer of understanding, which to my confused mind and emotions felt precious as gold. The president plucks me up in the air, literally, flies me off to his palace, pampers me and dresses me in silk lingerie and all the rest, and I fall swooning at his feet ready to do whatever he asks of me. It was such an obvious ploy I felt disgusted with myself for not having seen through it sooner. And yet, to be fair to myself, after months of wandering around naked, deprived of all but the most basic creature comforts, and rutting like an animal with every one and any one who wanted me, was it any wonder I had succumbed to the dream-like spell of silks and satins and scented baths and gourmet meals I could enjoy with my clothes on? ‘Well, needless to say I can’t answer for how the others feel,’ I said finally. ‘Some awful things – some very terrible things – have been done to us. Not just to Jane and me, mind you, but to the men as well.’ My voice faded and I felt saddened as I thought of them still back in that sweltering hot compound probably worried sick about what had become of me.

  ‘There is something else that might help persuade you.’ The president’s abrupt tone contrasted with the ambassador’s clipped diplomacy. ‘You had better see this before anyone else does. Khotan and the German girl, the two brains behind the hijack and the kidnapping, have copies of what I am about to show you, and they are threatening to release them if you do not cooperate.’

  My stomach churned with dread, instantly understanding. Unable to move, I sat in the plush armchair watching in horror as he moved over to a television and switched it on along with a video recorder. My fears had been justified. There we were, all four of us; Jack and Jane, her limbs interlaced about his, Carl’s head buried between my thighs… Jane and me in the shower… Carl and me in the shower…

  The cruelly beautiful images went on, blurred and dissolved in the tears of defeat, humiliation, and acquiescence flooding down my cheeks in front of the shocked British ambassador.

  Chapter 19

  Of course, they knew damned well they had me just where they wanted me, from the moment those explicit images appeared on the screen I was theirs to command again.

  ‘Turn it off, please,’ I said quietly, feely utterly defeated and degraded.

  Sir Gordon recovered himself quickly and his voice was as silky smooth as ever. ‘Of course, my dear, I understand what terrible pressures you were put under to provide those pictures. But I’m afraid the world media will not be quite so sympathetic in their treatment of you. They could very likely make your lives intolerable after your release, and you will find yourself exchanging one form of captivity for another. Life in the disapproving public eye can be quite a strain,’ he warned, and then shrugged philosophically. ‘I do think, however,’ he went on impassively, ‘that the kidnappers can probably be persuaded to keep it all quiet. But unfortunately the newshounds will be after you as soon as you reappear no matter what. They are like sharks following the scent of blood.

  ‘So we thought we might offer you some kind of protection. We though it might be best for you and your companions to ease your return to the real world by spending time at a kind of retreat for a whole, to give you a chance to rehabilitate yourselves before you pick up your lives again.’

  I sat there miserably, tortured by the shocking scenes we had just witnessed. At that moment I would have agreed to anything, agreed to go anywhere. But they didn’t rush things, the president and the ambassador. After Sir Gordon took his leave, as phlegmatically charming as ever, Koloba took me up to bed once more – and a night as intense as the previous one had been promptly ensued.

  But there was a subtle difference, which grew less subtle as the long night progressed. He was still a casual lover screwing me, but now there was an easy possessiveness, a hint of his former mastery, which had been on full display when he had used the others and me purely as objects of gratification. And, ashamed though I am to admit it, there was that same response from my own treacherously submissive body; a deep desire that welcomed the very subservience that degraded me.

  I only stirred in the first grey light of dawn – we had not been asleep very long – to feel the president’s bulk rolling out from beside me. ‘Duty calls, my little malaya,’ his deep voice rumbled. ‘You may go back to sleep, but I still have a country to run.’ He chuckled.

  When I surfaced from a dreamless sleep again it was, I felt, hours later and the room was full of the sunlight filtering in through the long drapes. Again I felt the mattress moving beside me, and still drifting sensuously up through the receding layers of sleep, I turned expecting to see the large man had returned.

  ‘Hello Moira.’

  I looked up and was stunned. I struggled up onto my elbows, my mouth open as I gazed in disbelief at Krista’s smiling features! I could not believe I was awake, but then the reality of what I was seeing was confirmed as she sank down beside me on the bed and kissed me passionately. I fell back down into the softness of the pillow and the mattress, her feminine weight moulding to me, her tongue sinking into my mouth and possessing me until I gurgled weakly in my throat for mercy.

  Her body lay along mine, every inch making sensual contact with my own. ‘You look surprised,’ she mused, after the long, lingering kiss she had bestowe
d upon me after our long separation. ‘You did not think you had seen the last of me, did you? I could not leave without saying goodbye properly.’ The seductiveness of her tone sent shivers of longing and apprehension through me. ‘I have already said my goodbyes to Jane,’ she went on. ‘And now it is your turn.’

  The uneasiness in my eyes undoubtedly made her glow with satisfaction, and when my gaze darted towards the door, she chuckled in a feminine version of the president’s low, gratified laughter. ‘Oh, don’t worry, my pretty,’ she purred sweetly. ‘We will not be disturbed. I have got as long as I want with you.’ She eased aside a little and peeled the bedclothes clear off my naked body, and I saw then that her clothes were neatly folded beside the bed. This was no secret, clandestine visit. The president was obviously aware of what was happening and was keeping well clear of the scene. But despite my concerns, my body trembled with that frisson of excitement Krista always inspired – and it was not to be disappointed.

  I made no attempt at all to put up any resistance against her. Not that I could have summoned up the necessary will, either physically or in spirit. She took hold of my arms and I let her pinion my wrists to the bedrail above me with a short length of silk cord she had brought for the purpose, and it was not until she began to make teasing love to me that I discovered how securely she had tied me, for instinctively I sought to respond, to return the passion of the embraces she lavished on my captive flesh, only to feel the bite of the bonds on my skin as I strained to move my arms.

  She was wickedly tender at first, holding herself away from me, allowing contact only at our hungry lips, nuzzling and nibbling in the first gentle bites of love. With infinite slowness her mouth worked down the length of my body, from my throat to the rise of my breasts, my nipples swelling with their need to be caressed, a need she instinctively satisfied as her lips closed over those upstanding buds of desire in turn. Then on down she went over the hollow of my belly, her tongue riming the shallow little eye of my navel, before proceeding over the quivering paleness leading to my uppermost chestnut curls, and the swell of the mound where my sex cleft clamoured for her attention.

  But she made me wait until my frame writhed and twisted, lifting hungrily off the bed, my thighs squirming in that desperate need for fulfilment. While I struggled with my need, her mouth went on devouring me, inch by inch, moving over my thighs where the muscles locked, down to my knees, my shins, my ankles, and even my wriggling toes. And then up again she came, all the way up that trail of yearning hunger. Lost to everything except my need for her, I wept and begged for release. Not from the bonds, which were biting unnoticed into my tethered wrists, but the merciless gnawing at my very centre, which ran with its insatiable demand for her conquest. The tears poured from me, soaking the hair at my temples. She lay on top of me, every inch of her shapely frame moulding to mine, and I thrust up in desperate appeal. It was an age of sweet torture, then at last that lovely mouth bore down again, this time assisted by those knowing fingers, which peeled me open, laid bare that throbbing core to the ecstasy of her consuming tongue and teeth and lips. She ate into the very heart of me and I exploded, flooded, fragmented, with a blissful power beyond any means of expression.

  Floating, above time, I drifted back through cloud layers of utter contentment to the reality of her comforting weight across my legs; her breath fanning the wet strands of hair that crowned my lower tummy, her cheek pressing against the top of my thigh, her fingers, still sticky with my fluids, toying absently with my pale nipples. I felt her turn me over onto my front, knew what was about to happen, dimly embraced the pain of the punishment which somehow seemed so fitting after such a total and willing surrender, even while my muscles tensed and the cheeks of my bottom hollowed with the anticipation of the scorching fire they were about to imbibe.

  She used a thin belt this time, lashing my quivering flesh with a slow appreciation that was an integral part of her own consummation. The branding fire of the first sharp cut rippled through me. I buried my face in the smothering softness of the pillow, stretched my mouth wide in a silent scream and bit savagely into the material, choking the cries of pain in a kind of helpless tribute, and acknowledgement of my victim’s role in her subjugation of me. The fire rippled again and again, and I felt my tautened flesh scoured, felt the ridges of pain-seared tissue standing up, vivid, scarlet emblems of the conqueror and the conquered, joining us as intimately and powerfully as the sexual union we had just shared. The pain rose and possessed me until I could no longer contain it. I lifted my flushed visage from the pillow and screamed, the cries torn from my inner spirit, blind howls which were, in their way, mirrors of the screams of ecstasy her loving had torn from me only minutes earlier.

  The steady throb of the torment beat through to my swooning senses, telling me that the ordeal was over. She knelt, once more a lover, and then sat astride my legs and I could feel the seeping wetness at her satin crotch. And it was as a lover now that she finally rose, moved away, returned with a blessedly cool towel she had soaked in water, and dabbed at the burning weals standing up in scarlet stripes across my bottom.

  I lay on my front, unable to move, and heard the soft rustle of her clothing as she dressed. She did not attempt to turn me over onto my back, which would have been cruel indeed, only lifted my head a little, and tenderly brushed the damp swirls of hair away from my neck and cheek to make room for the gentle kisses she rained down on them, before capturing my mouth for one last embrace.

  ‘Goodbye,’ she breathed huskily. ‘Do not forget me.’

  I lay still, apart from the involuntary trembling, the sobs gradually dying until my tears stopped seeping from my eyes, the pain a dull throb of acceptance.

  ‘No way! They’re not buying me off so fucking easily!’

  I cringed at Jack’s vehement words and the belligerent thrust of his red face towards mine. The discomfort in my aching bottom reminded me it was only two days since I had endured the thrashing, and the final farewell loving, from Krista. Was it really possible she had no more control over our lives? And yet we were far from free, I was sure of that. In some ways I could scarcely explain to myself I felt we would never be free again.

  I studied the elegant slacks, the smart shirt I was wearing, and the designer safari boots. And underneath, I appreciated the soft caress of real silk underwear. Across from me, Jane and Carl and Jack also looked strangely glamorous in their new and expensively cut clothing.

  A deep resentment welled up in me at Jack’s intransigence. He knew well enough what I had gone through in the eventful week during which I had been separated from him. He had seen the livid marks of my chastisement by Krista, and knew without asking how I had played the president’s concubine. Surely he too, like the rest of us, should still be bemused at the good fortune that had so swiftly fallen upon us? The fine clothes, the sumptuous food and the luxurious surroundings, after all those months of privation and uncertainty? But no, apparently he was not at all bemused, and I was caught partly admiring and partly pulling my hair out in exasperation at the way he could so easily adapt to every dramatic change. Just the relief of seeing him and the others again, at being reunited, had reduced me to sobs of gratitude.

  Later, when I faced Jack across the large silk covered double bed, in the guestroom to which we had been ceremonially escorted, I blushed like a virgin bride recalling all that had happened to me in the period since I’d last seen him – the amazing mid-air encounter in the helicopter, the nights of passion with Koloba, and the shockingly wonderful dawn of love with Krista. They stood as a great chasm between us – until Jack flung himself on me, with no more than a growl of happy lust, feverishly undressing me and shedding his own newly acquired clothes, to push me back onto the bed, to spread my legs wide to his rampant repossession of me. I was gasping in breathless excitement as his lovely rigid cock thrust its way to the hilt in my wet and willing tightness.

  ‘You missed me?’ he grinned, minutes later, when he lifted his sweating face to m
ine after our simultaneous climax. I was speechless, helpless to cover the enormity of the gulf between us.

  And so it had been, in the hours that had passed since then.

  ‘You must relax,’ the president told all four of us, while I meekly stared red-faced down at the carpet, cringing with embarrassing memories of the things we had done together. ‘I hope your accommodation will suffice,’ he went on. ‘Your troubles are over now. You are safe. Please – enjoy.’ He paused and gave me a knowing smile, which did nothing to ease my chagrin. ‘Your rooms are adjoining. Please feel at liberty to make your own arrangements as you wish. As I said, you are free now. You may do as you choose.’ I knew exactly what he meant, and judging from the red tide which swept up Jane’s pretty face, so did she.

  Sir Gordon called at the palace later in the day and made the same speech, with slightly less directness, that he had made to me about us finding a safe haven – a kind of ‘retreat’ to accustom ourselves to our liberty. When we were alone again, I told my companions, my voice pained, about the video the president had shown me in the ambassador’s presence, and their insistence about the necessity of remaining silent, or at least disguising the truth about our ordeal. Hence, Jack’s fierce outburst.

  ‘They can’t keep us hidden away, or shut up, for ever,’ he ranted on indignantly. ‘I tell you; there’s a fortune to be made out there. It’s waiting, worldwide. Our story; the way it really is and has been. We could tell the whole world Koloba’s real role with those kidnapping bastards, and the deals that must have been struck between them. We could tell the whole world!’ he repeated fervently.

  I glared at him, my hands at my sides clenched into tight fists. ‘For God’s sake, Jack!’ I exclaimed. ‘Do you really want to tell the truth?’ I gestured at all four of us. ‘Shall I ask the president to let you see the tape? I’ve told you, it’s all there! Every sordid detail of what we got up to! Carl and Me in the shower! Jane and you… all of us… together! Is that what you want the world to know about?’ The other two looked as sickened and ashamed as I felt, but Jack’s expression looked positively ugly, his face twisted in a beleaguered defiance.

 

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