Shireen's Story: Winning Me Back

Derrick showed up about an hour into the event and wasted no time in finding a spot proximate to where I was standing next to a wall. As the conversation around the room continued, he created means of insinuating his fingers into my clothing, gaining access to my behind. But when he lifted the hem of my skirt a little too high in the back, in order both to rub my legs and feel my privates, I had to pat his hand down and move to an empty chair across the room. He was disappointed but decided that it was best to be circumspect.

Shortly after the goodies were laid out on the table, Derrick begged his leave. The rest of the folks left soon after. Jenna insisted that I stay on and give her a hand with things. I should have half expected the possibility that there was more to the request. I wondered if she was going to blow up in my face. Instead she took me by the hand, offered more coffee and cake, and sat me down on a loveseat. She took the spot next to mine and grasped my right hand in hers. The look in her eyes was one of concern, not ire.

"How long have you and Derrick been seeing each other?" she asked point blank.

There was no reason to make things up, so I spilled my guts about the way things had transpired in our marriage up to the Super Bowl party, how Derrick had been asked by Akbar to look in to see if I was fine, and how youthful desire on his part and the sense of worthlessness on mine had resulted in our subsequent affair.

"Do you love my son?"

"Well yes, but not as in marrying him or anything," I truthfully responded.

"Why are you still keeping your distance from Akbar? Don't you think your attitude is stretching your marriage to the limit?"

"I do not think he has learnt his lesson so far," I replied.

"Poppycock, he is madly in love with you," she let me know, "he is hurting inside worse than you are and is equally susceptible to sexual suggestion from elsewhere."

"What do you mean?"

"He opened his heart to me quite readily last evening," she let me know, "but I do not know if the pain he is in, will not soon lead him in another direction."

"What sort of direction?"

"Do you want him to leave you?" she queried, "or would it be better if you stayed married but he got his sex elsewhere?"

"Frankly, we are beyond worrying about extra-marital sex," I confessed, having already told Jenna about my experience at the orgy.

"But do you want things to improve or worsen? How would you like it if he spent every night fucking me instead of being with you?"

"Did he?" was the first thing that popped into my mind, "last night?"

"Let's stay on track here," she sidestepped my pointed query, "and give me a sincere reply."

The answer was easy; I wanted things to get better and for Akbar to recognize that he had pushed me into a corner I had not been willing to go into. Jenna was visibly relieved as I poured my true feelings out. She was sincerely trying to get us together and her advice was worth considering.

"What do you suggest I do?"

"Try being a little more friendly, eat dinner together and allow him a goodbye or welcome back kiss for now," she suggested, "perhaps you will soon be in bed together fucking each others' brains out."

"I doubt that would be enough."

"I also think you guys should think in terms of taking a vacation, each going to a different place, and maybe with a different partner, and completely working out your frustrations. But clean your slates while away and come back home a loving couple like nothing ever happened."

The suggestion was insanely simple and I could not believe that we had flirted about the bush without thinking directly on such lines. A look of understanding came across my face prompting Jenna to lean forward and hug me.

"See I can play marriage doctor too," she joked, "now about the fee for my consultation."

"Fee, what fee?" I wondered.

"Shireen, you have had a wonderful impact on Derrick, though we all know that your sexual relationship cannot continue. I bet you were thinking that I was going to scold you about it or worse, but you do know now that I am not interested in doing so.

"I must say that I was quite concerned about your possible negative reaction."

"Derrick is leaving on Sunday and will probably be gone forever. You have been a good influence on him in more ways than one."

"Thanks Jenna, he has helped me gain some faith in myself also," I confessed.

"Can you make sure he goes away happy and raring to prove himself?" she continued.

"What would you like me to do?" was my pretty normal response.

"Honey I am asking you to spend Saturday night with him here!" her reply was not so normal. I was in a spot and wondering what to say since Akbar would be at home.

"Don't worry, I've asked Akbar to take me night fishing, he told me you never liked the sport but I figure I could stomach it for once. I am sure he will not be concerned that you do not want to go with us," she indeed had hit upon one of his likes that I could never fathom nor participate in. Obviously they had discussed the matter the night before

Needless to say Saturday night was spent at Jenna's home, in a state of constant undress, and I received a working over that only a future professional athlete could deliver. Derrick departed for Wisconsin after having a last slice of my pie for breakfast, with a smile, a seriously worked cock, and a sense of purpose in making a name for himself that his mother could be proud of. Akbar, already happy with the thaw in our relationship had a great time on his trip, catching many a fish and perhaps Jenna too. I heard that Jenna was sick as hell for most of the time but took it like a true trooper, sacrificing herself for the greater good!

3 -- Separate "Vacations"

"How in the world did I get into this predicament?" I had plenty of time to wonder.

Not only was I sitting in a fetid hut in the middle of the jungle, my movement was restricted by the fact that my hands were bound behind me and to some kind of hook attached to one wall. As if that was not bad enough, two of the persons guarding me had each come in and checked me out pretty thoroughly, one removing my jacket and the other taking away my skirt. Thankfully I still was wearing my sneakers, though now was skimpily dressed in a blouse and panties.

"Oh God, I hope Hernan is not badly hurt," I hoped, remembering that he appeared to be bloody when beaten up by the people who now held me prisoner. My other thought was that Akbar would find some way of helping me out, since I was assuming Hernan would get a message to him in some manner or another. Though I regretted that he was not with me on this trip, the fact that he was safe in Calgary, regardless of my situation, gave me some consolation.

Things had not started off so desperately or eventfully. Out of the blue, Hernan and Kerri had called and advised they were getting married later in the year. As we talked, they had tuned in to the fact that things were not on the level between Akbar and me. Since Hernan was busy with business in South America and Kerri wanted to do some stuff in Calgary, where she originally was from, our 'separate' vacation plans sort of fell into place by themselves.

I did have a twinge of jealousy when I bid Akbar and Kerri farewell at the airport and headed to my flight gate. I was on my way to Hernan in Ecuador and they were going to Alberta. The changeover in Mexico City had gone flawlessly and I had arrived in Quito during the late afternoon. I imagined that Hernan would be at the airport to receive me and would not take much time before we rediscovered ourselves.

I was surprised that he was not there, but a hotel guide was displaying my name on a board. He advised that "my husband" should be back from work by the time we got to the hotel. So Hernan had checked us in as husband and wife. I was fine and guessed this was to not offend any local sensibilities. The Marriott was a first class affair, like so many other of its ilk around the world. I was simply whisked into an elevator, without the trouble of any check-in and taken to my floor. The concierge opened the door and saying that "my husband" was inside expecting me, bid me a good holiday.

Hernan had arranged for what may have been the Presidential Suite, the main room itself was enormous and there were doors leading to other parts of the accommodation. Hernan walked out through one of the doors and locked his lips on mine.

"Shireen it is delightful to see you again," he said, "I hope the trip was not a bother?"

"No, not at all," I responded, sipping from the glass of cold champagne he handed me. That is one luxury that he had introduced to me and I no longer was averse to alcohol.

"I figure you would want to freshen up," he suggested, "what would you like to do afterwards?"

"The question, Hernan, or "dear husband for now" is what would you like to do next?" I naughtily quipped getting a wink back from him.

The answer to that came on the bed, where we found ourselves in no time at all. He simply carried me into the bedroom and literally ripped off the skirt, bra and panties that covered my form. He was hungry for me and while it may not have been the best fuck for either of us, it slaked our thirst quite well for the immediacy. Hernan and I finished quickly, but lay together for a while just kissing, caressing and fondling each other. After a nice dinner in one of the restaurants in the facility our night was relatively tame.

Hernan got me ready early so we could head out to the Equator, located just a few miles from the city. A thick line divided the north from the south and a sign indicated "Ecuador Latitud 0-0-0." I stood with one leg on each side and Hernan quipped that he would love to get into me on the half-way line. I kidded him about it but must have set off something in his mind. We wandered around the venue looking at various exhibits and taking pictures. On approaching one of the farthest buildings placed on the line, and seeing that no one seemed to be in the last room at the very end, he led me in and positioned me with a hemisphere on either side. Bending me down, he ripped the panty off. Since I was in a mid length skirt, he hiked it a bit, keeping me bent over and drove his shaft all the way into me from behind. I was hot as could be and accepted each thrust with a riposte of mine. Fluid from my cunt drained down my leg, along with the sweat we were working up. Hernan tensed but suddenly stopped.

"I am not wearing a condom," he told me.

I simply tightened my legs so he could not pull out. "Just come in me," I let him know, "I finished my period the day I flew here and should be safe for now." He must have appreciated the permission as his sperm jetted into me and mingled with the other wetness I already was experiencing. No one but Akbar had ever vaginally fucked me unprotected before, but I was so warmed up at the time by what we were doing that I could not think straight. Hernan remained inside till every drop was done and then slowly pulled out. I could feel my knees buckle, but he held me up and straightened my skirt at the same time.

Our next adventure was a trip to the Cotopaxi volcano. Hernan had let me know that Kerri and Akbar had reached Calgary and had gone to the Rockies. The volcano is quite a sight, majestic by itself, but mountain climbing was not the sort of activity I was made for. We stopped by at a restaurant that someone had recommended to him on the way back to Quito. For the first time in my life, I had ostrich steaks. These were just wonderful and we had a good chuckle when Hernan suggested that the meat was rumoured to possess aphrodisiac qualities! It must have had some, since we went at it like banshees on our return to the hotel.

I was looking forward to the beach and was excited that there was a beautiful drive through the mountains and down to the coast. Normally I would have just tossed on hot pants and a blouse for a trip to the beach, but the weather was cool in the highlands and so opted for a jacket and a skirt. The swimwear was all ready to go in the case I was taking with me and the sneakers were ideal. The drive through the mountains was serene and it was almost a downer when we reached the first roadside set of fruit and coffee shops on the plain.

After a quick restroom break and with a nice coffee to fortify us, I looked forward to the rest of the drive. Soon we were on the way and the town of Esmeralda lay just ahead, with the beach not much further. Suddenly Hernan slowed down and I noticed some debris on the road with people around it.

Not thinking much, we stopped when signalled to and Hernan leaned his head out the window to ask what had happened. Things went haywire from there. A burly fellow pulled the door open, grabbed him by the arm and jerked him on to the road. Hernan instinctively got up to fight, but was met with blows from two other guys who appeared from nowhere. In a few moments his ability to fight was gone and soon he was lying to one side, with his face bloodied. I had jumped out of the vehicle and tried to run to him when the first guy put an arm around me and stopped my progress. One of the other fellows went over to Hernan and slapped him awake. They had a conversation and Hernan was handed what looked like a business card. I was bundled into the back of the car, another two persons joining us. While Hernan sat motionless by the roadside, a gun pointed at him, two of the guys got into the front and three into the back of the car. I was forced to lie on the laps of the guys in the back while all three felt most welcome to feel up my legs, breasts and any other part they wanted to as we drove towards wherever I was to be held captive.

When we reached a group of huts in the jungle, I was displayed to the persons in charge. The first was a well built female who would be considered attractive if she was made up and dressed in other than camouflage green. The other was a fat slob who leered at me and left me wondering about when, rather than if, I would be raped.

Given the circumstances, I was happy that I was simply shoved into one of the huts and secured inside. Two of the guys removed my outerwear, but did not leave me threadbare. Even though thirst was killing me, my mind was more focused on praying that I would somehow get out alive and unmolested. At the present time both looked like extremely remote possibilities. Oh how I missed the warm comfort of Akbar!

4 -- The Rescue

No one raped me the first night or even bothered me in any overtly sexual fashion. That did not hide the fear I had for my life or virtue every time the door opened and someone entered. In contrast to what I was anticipating, I was surprised when they brought me some reasonably edible food, a Coke and provided a large bottle of mineral water, after I had been inside for more than four hours. They left me my watch, though they took my purse and accessories. I was also unfettered and given a futon to sleep on. My query on going to the bathroom did not get as good a response as I hoped. I was led to an area a few yards from the camp and the accompanying guard watched intently as I relieved myself. On the way back, he did hand me a sheet, indicating that I could tie it around my waist. I was thankful for this, despite the fact that he had watched me bare myself to go pee. I was certain that my treatment would change the next day and to the worse. The guy with the leer preyed on my mind.

A ruckus woke me up with a start. I could hear the fat leery guy arguing loudly with some of the others. When the door to the shack opened and my imagined nemesis walked in, ignoring the entreaties I thought were coming from the others, I was sure the time for my humiliation was nigh. Indeed when he strode right up to me and ran his hand through my hair and down to my breasts, I readied myself for the imminent assault. There really was no reason to fight, their numbers would overwhelm me easily and I surmised that letting the man have his way may save my life and prevent others from joining in too.

"Senora, comb your hair and wash face," he told me in fairly decent English, handing over my brush and tossing me a canteen of water.

"Why?" I wanted to know, "do you want me to be pretty for you before you dishonour me?" I had heard of pervert's getting their victims dolled up before raping them.

"No senora, I need to photograph you," he advised, "your friends have asked for proof of life and I want to make sure you look well."

I got the immediate feeling that their motives were neither political nor sexual; they were simply kidnappers for ransom. I surmised that Hernan had made it back to safety and was in the process of negotiating my release.

"We need you to be clean so they recognize you, but we also need to convince them that we mean business."

I did not understand the back end of the threat and busied myself with fixing myself up as much as possible, washing my face and combing my hair. A lipstick was also tossed to me and I put it on eagerly. Then I realized what the second part entailed. The fat man told me, matter of fact, to drop my garments and to pose nude. I decided to comply under the circumstances and he took a number of photographs with the Polaroid camera he pulled out of a satchel. For some he made me stand holding the newspaper for the day in my hands thereby covering my vagina. Others were taken without the benefit of the newspaper and some in lewd postures that he directed me to get into. When the pictures developed, he showed me the ones in which I held the paper, saying they were very nice. He then picked up the rest, checked them out, and making a gesture to indicate that the others would enjoy masturbating to my naked pictures after he distributed them around, he left. I steeled myself for the worst and quickly clothed myself as best as I could.

He returned in the afternoon and told me that negotiations had started following the confirmation on proof of life. His hope was that the ransom amount would be paid soon. Totally out of character, he knelt on the floor and clasped his hands Indian style to me. Perhaps even he had seen some Hindi movies.

"Senora, I am very sorry for this and ask that you forgive my friends and me," he apologized and explained, "we would not be doing this if the government did not steal everything we had."

I felt somewhat better and the fact that passable food and drink kept appearing at the expected times got my spirits up. I was also allowed to go to the latrine shared by the group. Although it was filthy, I had privacy and was not leered at while performing a basic human function. Still I was their prisoner and fear for my safety continued to gnaw at the back of my mind. As if to underscore that concern, when I asked if I could wash the grime on my body, I was led to an overhead tank out in the open to which a tap was attached. The female handed me a towel but indicated I should remove my bra and panties. As I moved to the water, she held out one of my bikinis that she had retrieved from my travel case. The meaning was obvious, I had to bare myself before I could shower up. Since the clean clothes would be welcome, I stripped down and began to shower. I was not alone, however, as the female decided to join in, all dressed, and insisted on soaping me up. The whole camp turned out to watch and they roared enthusiastically as she kept rubbing soap on my body and prolonging my stay under the water. Finally I was allowed to dry off, put on the clean garments and return to my prison.

Apparently my concern regarding my situation was justified despite their being relatively kind to me so far, public nudity notwithstanding. Midway through the third day, the leader visited me again, in a verifiably foul mood. Something had seriously gone wrong.