21st Century Slave Ch. 03byCiceri©
Nearly six months had passed since Mari's sentence began. Life back in the United States had almost returned to normal for Carl save for the frequent realizations she was still in an oppressive, developing country doing hard time. He had received six letters from her in nearly as many months and each letter assured him everything was fine and her spirits were strong. However, Carl noticed an unsettling pattern in her letters becoming more and more formal and devoid of any sort of endearments. Her last letter was signed but minus salutations or loving regards. The content of her letters was nonspecific as to the nature of her service. He still had no idea of whether or not her labor was intense or relaxed and easy. None of the questions he asked of her were ever addressed. He wasn't even sure she'd received the two dozen or so letters he'd sent her.
Carl's longing for Mari was beginning to change. He'd been given a lot of time to think about her conviction and the evidence against her. His suspicion of her intent had taken over his rational thought at times and some sleepless nights did not help his sanity.
The airline tickets sat on the kitchen counter for weeks until finally the time had arrived. Carl was packed and had his passport and visa neatly ready for the next day's flight. He was restless but a sleeping pill helped his racing mind rest enough to fall asleep.
The grandfather clock in Carl's hallway chimed at 2:30 AM and moments later he was on his feet. A lucid and unsettling dream caused him to turn on the lights and rummage through Mari's office. After hours of trying different passwords to sign on to her laptop, Carl was finally able to access her files in an uncertain attempt to unlock some mysteries. Very few of the files had even a hint of something wrong. Once Carl opened the cryptic-sounding file he saw business or home-related pictures and descriptions - completely innocuous. Carl had reached a dead end. He shut down the laptop and closed it as the morning sun shone through the window. He spun around in the chair and noticed light shining on a stack of shoe boxes in the closet. He also noticed the shoes hanging on racks nearby. He decided to investigate. Each box contained a pair of dress shoes except one bound with packaging tape. This one was heavier than the others and was quickly cut open.
A bundle of dated letters wrapped like a wad of money filled the entire box. Carl did not know where to start reading but soon discovered most were written by a man and a few were from a woman. The man had written love letters sometime while Mari was in college - based on the dates. Carl spent the next several hours in disbelief as he made sense of what had happened. A friend of Mari's father had an affair with her years ago. He was a doctor and paid for her apartment in downtown Portland. He lived out in the country with his wife and would stay in town when emergencies arose. The letters also made clear the fact he was giving her an allowance and dictating how she dressed and how she spent her time outside of school. The man was a control freak. His demands got stranger and stranger according to the letters. He was heavily into bondage and discipline and ultimately convinced Mari to quit school, become an exotic dancer and even an escort. The letters made it clear she worked nearly every night for at least a year as a call girl. There was even her clipped out escort ad from the back of a local magazine.
Carl's head spun as he tried to make sense of what he thought he knew versus what he was reading. He could hardly reconcile the two. He only knew she'd dropped out of college.
The doctor's wife eventually found out and filed for divorce. Both families were dragged into the drama and Mari's parents disowned their daughter. Two letters in the box were written by the doctor's ex-wife and were filled with anger and vitriol. The doctor's letters seemed to stop around the time he moved into the apartment with her. Only sexualized little notes told the tale of what life was like for Mari and the doctor after he moved in.
Carl sat and stared at the last note in the box. Then it occurred to him to do an internet search for the doctor with the familiar sounding name. Right away a search produced several pages about a disgraced doctor convicted of sexually assaulting patients and hiring prostitutes. It was the same guy.
According to more than one article, the doctor had been arrested in his home while his live-in girlfriend was found nude chained to a bolt in the floor. Further reading indicated Mari had defended the doctor claiming to be in a loving albeit unconventional relationship with him.
The doctor was sentenced 18 years in prison.
Once again Carl slowly closed the laptop.
There was no way of trying to catch a couple hours of sleep now. Carl went through the motions of getting dressed and loading his car and driving to the airport. He did not know whether to scream or cry or turn around and drive home. But he stayed the course and was on the plane for an entire day's travel.
After several stopovers Carl had cleared customs in Yemen and was at the curb waiting for a taxi. He wasn't in the mood to give Tariq the courtesy of a phone call. Instead, he was simply going to drop in.
The aged, wooden stairway gave Tariq advanced notice of a visitor's arrival. The blood rushed from his face at the sight of Carl.
"How are you doing, Tariq? I hope you have nothing planned today because you and I are going to Amran to visit Mari."
Tariq did not even protest. He could see the ire in Carl's eyes and, besides, not much was planned anyway.
The taxi was still waiting at the curb and both men got in.
"Please tell the driver where we're going, Tariq."
The driver's eyes were fixed on the mirror waiting for Tariq's response.
Carl handed the driver a wad of bills and without hesitation, the taxi pulled away from the curb.
Tariq looked at Carl with a hint of desperation.
"I don't think this is a good idea, my friend. What are your intentions?"
Carl said nothing but stared ahead while slowly shaking his head.
Tariq could tell everything had changed and Carl was in no condition to negotiate.
"I think I will stay in the cab, if that's okay with you. I don't think showing up and taking Mari is a good idea, Carl. I don't think they'll let you just walk out with her."
Carl turned and stared at Tariq for a moment.
"That's okay, Tariq. You can do whatever you want once I know where she's at." Carl then handed the lawyer $500 dollars.
The wind blew through the window but could not dry the sweat from Carl's brow. The heat did nothing to remedy the anger and anxiety or the lack of sleep Carl was enduring.
After an hour of driving the men pulled up the long driveway until they could go no further. There was no guard to summon so Carl got out and started walking down the perimeter of the compound wall. Tariq got out and watched in disbelief as Carl disappeared around a corner.
Within a minute, a Ferrari zoomed up behind the taxi and then passed by. Tariq saw Jabreen's eyes moments before the car screeched to a stop. The door flew open and Tariq was met with the toothy smile of his friend.
"Tariq! What brings you to my home?"
Now it was Tariq who was sweating profusely. He had no choice but to tell Jabreen the real reason why he was there.
As the two men hugged, Tariq's panicked eyes scanned the area for Carl.
"Jabreen, I must tell you something. Your servant has completed her sentence and I am here..."
"Yes, yes, my friend," interrupted Jabreen. "We have some good news to share."
Tariq was completely puzzled and relieved at the same time. He was relieved to hear she was still alive but could only guess what Jabreen's good news was.
"Come, come inside," said Jabreen as he beckoned the taxi to follow.
Tariq watched as his friend hopped in the Ferrari and sped through the opened gate. The taxi lurched forward and Tariq got in just before the gate began to close.
Once the cars were parked, Tariq asked the cabbie to wait. He was unsure of how long this meeting would take but sensed the wait would be short.
Jabreen showed Tariq to the same room where Mari had been violated the time before. This time, Tariq would wait alone for ten minutes or longer. Suddenly, the door flew open and a battered and gagged Carl was shoved into the room. The burly guards had discovered and accosted him not long after he got out of the taxi.
The guards remained in the corners as Jabreen walked in with a hijab-cloaked figure following behind.
Tariq could only see her eyes but knew this woman was Mari. Her eyes did not even seem to acknowledge Carl.
Jabreen set down some documents and right away Tariq knew what was happening. Jabreen spoke in plain English so Mari and Carl could understand what was being said.
"This woman is turning in these documents. She has decided to stay."
Tariq had heard of this before. A person serving a sentence of hard labor could remain employed after the sentence had been served. Sometimes a prisoner has nowhere to go or is a pariah in their community. The certainty of food and shelter offsets the hard labor and is better than the uncertainties of being destitute. The documents Jabreen has produced are recognized by the courts. Mari nodded with approval her decision to continue as a servant and signed the documents without any sign of duress.
She stood straight after signing the last page and a smile was apparent in her eyes.
Just then Carl lunged toward Mari and coldcocked her. Jabreen quickly approached Carl but was punched in the face twice before anyone could react. The tall figure collapsed to the floor as the guards pounced on Carl and immobilized him with a stun gun. Another guard straddled Carl's chest and delivered several blows to his face before Jabreen intervened and stopped the beatings. Tariq couldn't help but notice the lack of concern in Mari's expression.
"Do not beat this man anymore. I will fire you both. Take this man to the cooler."
The cooler was basically a jail cell.
Tariq assured Jabreen the taxi was waiting and could take Carl back to town immediately. However, Jabreen smiled beneath a bloody nose and said, "That man is no longer Carl. He is now himself a slave."
A silence that filled the room begged for an explanation.
"That slave will be stripped and sold before tomorrow! He will serve a male Master completely. I will make certain he will." declared Jabreen as he dabbed a cloth to his nose.
Again, Mari showed no concern or care for her husband's predicament. She was either brainwashed or had a complete lack of empathy. Tariq was beginning to care less.
"I am sorry for bringing that man here, Jabreen. He just showed up and..."
Once again, Jabreen interrupted Tariq.
"Shhhh...No apologies, my friend. It was predestined that slave should serve. I am very glad you made the trip."
Tariq knew his old friend was true to his word. Carl would never know freedom again; only a life of hard labor and humiliation. But that was the risk of returning. Tariq had given fair warning which Carl ignored.
Jabreen gripped Mari's robe and lifted it over her head. Tariq gazed in disbelief as the last piece of fabric lifted off and fell to the floor. Mari's tan body was completely naked except this time her belly showed at least three months pregnant. Her face had a hint of self-satisfaction as she winked at Tariq.
He turned toward Jabreen with a look of curiosity and was met with shrugged shoulders. Any one of the men who had violated Mari could be the sire.
"Two hundred.. maybe more," whispered Jabreen in their native tongue.
Still, Mari had yet to speak.
"She will soon be a wife of mine. Now is your chance," joked Jabreen.
Her smooth skin showed no signs of punishment. It was clear to Tariq his friend had likely fallen for this American and eased up on her. In truth, Jabreen was most likely the one to have impregnated Mari.
Tariq studied her body and then looked down to the floor out of respect. But then he looked up at Mari and stared into her hazel eyes. Now it was Mari's turn to show deference as she stared at the floor.
Tariq was becoming aroused at this odd scenario and this seemed to be what Jabreen wanted. His hands grabbed and grappled Mari's boobs and pulled her long nipples. Mari brought her hands up and behind her neck.
Tariq hurried and unzipped his trousers. His erection wasted no time in finding Mari's shaved pussy. An awkward moment of uncertainty was resolved as Mari stepped forward and forced Tariq to recline on a table. She crawled up and eased her glistening pussy over the top of Tariq's cock and then dropped her weight. The heat of her insides felt better than expected as Tariq held her close to him. They slowly began to fuck as Mari soon gasped. Jabreen removed his belt and tightened it around Mari's neck. He pulled it tight as he jockeyed himself into position and eased his cock into her ass. At times Tariq could feel testicles bouncing off his but the ache that caused turned into ecstasy. Mari truly enjoyed this as her eyes repeatedly rolled back. Finally she spoke as she rocked in cadence with the men. Jabreen came first and dismounted Mari's backside. Tariq himself came and pulled Mari close. Her hot breath filled his ears beneath her dirty blond hair. She smelled like citrus and sex. Tariq was very pleased she decided to remain in his country. Carl did not deserve such a beautiful fucking machine.
Soon, Tariq returned to the waiting taxi and drove away from the compound. He picked up the coat Carl had left on the seat. Inside a pocket was a passport which Tariq tossed out into bramble bushes.
Upon returning to the city, the cab driver popped the trunk lid and handed Tariq two suitcases. No questions were asked and neither man acknowledged the American passenger.
Tariq ascended the stairs to his office and once inside examined the contents of both cases. One contained at least $5000 US Dollars and a change of clothes. The other case was a change of clothes intended for Mari. Tariq examined a brassiere. Then he picked up a pair of nylon panties which he quickly brought to his nose and recognized the citrus fragrance. He casually tucked the blue treasure in his pocket.
Moments before he was about to lock up and go home the telephone rang. A desperate sounding British tourist in need of a defense attorney for his wife had called.
Tariq smiled and reached for a pen and paper.