After Her Disappearance (PM interest)

[saedo]

After Her Disappearance (closed for haremfaery)


Renoir glanced through the materials a final time. Anxiety was unusual for him, but this project represented a unprecedented amount of time and effort on his behalf. If all went according to plan, in a couple weeks he'd receive the largest payday of his nefarious career.

He had been at this project for months, ever since Sergei had called. Sergei ran a widespread criminal enterprise with its fingers in gambling, prostitution, drugs, smuggling, and half a dozen other illicit activities. Renoir managed a large portion of their sex trade, so he had intermittent contact with Sergei to discuss profits and expenses. Consequently it was unusual to hear from him before the next monthly report.

"Ve have an opportunity, Renoir, " he had said. "Vun sat I sink vill be most lucrative if you prove vorthy." Sergei's thick accent and silken tones were unmistakable. "Ze Sultan has a... request. Vun I vant you to procure for him."

Renoir's ears perked up at the mention of the Sultan. It was not his official title, but merely a codename for a particular client. Most patrons of their prostitutes dealt with local pimps; Renoir did not handle the day-to-day operations on that scale. But the Sultan was a major client of the organisation's weapons and opium trade, so he was powerful enough to deal with Sergei directly. Since information was power and discretion a mandatory virtue, Sergei never mentioned him by his real name to subordinates.

Renoir only knew of the man due his sexual penchants. Whenever he was in town, Sergei would call and put Renoir on notice to have his best performers on standby. The girls had mixed emotions about such news. The Sultan paid extremely well, so it was a banner payday for them. But though he did not look it, the Sultan was sexually formidable. His size and stamina readily testing (and occasionally exceeding) the limits of Renoir's most seasoned professionals. He was also quick to show displeasure with his fists.

Renoir knew better than to complain about any damage inflicted on the merchandise. The Sultan was a man of wealth and power who operated at a level far, far above. If he broke some whore, there were plenty more to replace her.

But this time, the Sultan wanted something different. Rather than one night, he wanted a girl for his own little harem, according to Sergei. Renoir shrugged at the idea. While sex slaves were not his standard business, procuring new supplies of female flesh for the organisation's brothels was not much different.

The Sultan, however, had a particular list of requirements in mind. It was easy enough to find destitute women from eastern Europe or Asia willing to sell their bodies, but the Sultan wanted no part of such trash. His desire for a healthy young female with good teeth skewed towards a country with solid health care. He wanted her drug-free meant finding some desperate junkie was also out of the question. What the Sultan wanted was someone pure and innocent.

Renoir was hesitant at first. Enslavement meant kidnapping. Doable when it was just some random streetwalker, but an innocent would be somebody's daughter - somebody who would call the cops when the little darling went missing. That substantially increased the risk.

But Sergei was not a man you wanted to disappoint. Moreover, the price he had quoted was gargantuan. Renoir's commission on this one deal would easily double this year's earnings. He was prepared to go to great lengths for such a reward.

It still taken months to set up and arrange. Just finding candidates who fit the profile had taken weeks. The physical characteristics had been exacting. Dark hair, blue eyes, and pale skin weren't too difficult. The figure had been more difficult. The Sultan had rejected some initial exemplars as insufficiently busty despite their DDs. Complicating it further had been the Sultan's demand that her breasts also be natural. And since the woman had to be toned and beautiful, that severely narrowed the field.

Having eventually located a few promising candidates, the issue was then how to arrange for their disappearance. None was native to France and international kidnapping took them away from his support network.

At last he'd hit upon the notion of getting the girls to come to him. It had taken months to arrange, but it had finally worked. His favorite candidate was now under the impression that she was arriving in Paris this evening to begin a semester studying abroad with a dance program at a regional university. The university was real, of course, but the addresses, phone numbers, and contacts she'd been communicating with were all phantoms. Via some misrouted files thanks to a client with serious gambling debts to Sergei, Renoir had seen to it that the university thought the girl had dropped out of the application process. Consequently, when the police investigated, their would be no immediate trail.

He looked at her photos again. The dark hair cascading down her back, the brilliant blue eyes, the soft curve of her lips, the brilliant white smile. Her headshot alone would make any man take notice. And given her titanic bosom overlooking a smooth, taut belly that flared into a some lovely hips and a delightfully plump ass, and all of it perched atop legs toned by a decade of dance -- she'd be stopping traffic wherever she went.

He'd seen video of her in motion. As he narrowed the final list of the candidates, he'd dispatched operatives to observe the top choices. She had vaulted to the top once he'd seen her in motion. He'd expected someone so voluptuous to be a bit ponderous in her movements, but her extensive dance experience gave her a sensual grace that stirred his blood to behold. The Sultan would pay a fortune for her.

Two of his men awaited her at the airport now. The daylight world would soon see its last of Ms. Carlisle.

 

[haremfaery]

Jennifer Carlisle was more excited than she had ever been in her life. She was traveling to Paris by herself to begin a semester abroad at a prestigious university of art and language. She had been invited to participate in a special world dance class.

Dance was her passion even after her hopes of ever being a prima ballerina were dashed at puberty. Her breasts grew. And grew. Dancing kept her figure lean, but her breasts had other ideas. Since middle school she had been a vegetarian, perhaps that had something to do with it. perhaps it was in her genes, since her mother had a drop dead figure that she maintained through rigorously cardio and weight training. Whatever the reason, Jennifer would never be a ballerina.

She voraciously learned any and all dances from ballroom and Latin to African and Russian folk dances. She had recently begun Middle Eastern dance lessons and that was very well suited to her body type. In Paris, she would be able to study with master teachers from all over Europe and learn many different types of folk dances. She hoped to turn all of this and a degree in psychology into some sort of movement therapy to help women suffering from body image problems. Dancing had taught her to walk tall and not hide her chest, but to be proud of her assets.

Jennifer shifted in her seat. She was trapped against the window. Two business men had the other seats. The one in the middle seemed to keep brushing her arm or her leg. She didn't think it was on purpose. It was tight on planes these days. She put on her sleep mask and changed her iPod to the sleepytime songs she had programmed. She didn't want to arrive all jetlagged. besides, it would keep Mr. Businessman from trying to get friendly.

---

Jennifer debarked from the plane and into the terminal. The letter from the university told her someone would meet her at baggage claim area right after she went through customs. The person would have a sign with her name. She would be taking a limo to an apartment house for the international students.

Jennifer's parents had insisted she learn French and Spanish. her earliest nannies had been native Spanish speakers, later, her nannies were French Canadian or from France.

She following the signs to the baggage claim area, collected her things, and trundled her way to the customs line. Customs was uneventful, thank goodness. She walked past reunited families and lovers to a line of people holding signs. There it was. A swarthy man, Slavic looking, was holding a sign with the large and carefully written CARLISLE on it.

She dumped her carry on on the floor to hold out her hand to him. She spoke in French, "I am Jennifer Carlisle. You're the one taking me to the students' apartments? This is all my luggage. I'm going to call home once I'm settled to have them ship anything else I need."

There she stood looking very Americaine in her jeans and red converse high tops. She had a royal blue tee shirt on and a dark blue hoodie. Her hair was pulled back into a now messy pony tail that fell in waves past her shoulders. She looked at the man with large bright blue eyes.

 

[saedo]

Yefim felt a little tongue-tied as the beautiful American spoke up at him. At 6'3", he towered over her, but she seemed not the least bit intimidated by his bulk. Nicolas had told him she was attractive, but her pictures hadn't done her justice. Even dressed as simply as she was, the lushness of her body was unmistakable. He could feel his blood pressure mounting as he tried to find words.

"Oui... oui," he stammered at last, his French heavily accented. He bent and picked up the luggage she'd deposited at his feet. A distant voice in his head objected to being treated like a beast of burden, particularly by some American woman, but the swelling lust in groin drowned out any insult to his self-esteem.

Encumbered by her bags, he looked down at her again. "Mon nom est Gerard. Je suis ici pour vous conduisez." She rolled her eyes slightly and he instantly felt dumb for having said it. Cowed, he mumbled, "Suivez-moi, s'il vous plaît," and lumbered towards the exits.

She fell in alongside him. Fortunately, he didn't have to make much conversation. The Carlisle woman began chattering away at him in a mixture of French and English. Yefim spoke very little of the latter and found himself wishing that he'd let Nicolas take the lead on this one; the Frenchman was so much better at small talk. Yefim could do little more than grunt the occasional "yes" or "no", though the woman apparently needed little more to keep up a continuous stream of words as they headed out of the airport.

Yefim had texted Nicolas as soon as he'd spotted the woman, so the midnight blue SUV was parked on the curb only a few dozen yards from the exit. As they neared the vehicle, a lithe figure sprang from the driver's side and came around to greet him.

"Ah, Ms. Carlisle, bienvenue à Paris!" Nicolas announced, a wide grin splitting his face, showing his very white teeth. "My name is Rene'", he lied effortlessly, switching to English, and holding out his hand. Taking Jennifer's in his, he kissed the back of her hand, "It is a pleasure to meet you," he said with a twinkle in his eye.

Nicolas kept the smirk off his face as the young woman blushed slightly. Nicolas had the effect on women. His natural good looks and bedroom eyes tended to incline women towards him. Combined with his practiced charm, he could have most women eating out of his hand in short order. Renoit ordinarily put Nicolas' skills to more lucrative tasks like conning rich dowagers out of small fortunes in elaborate schemes, but had specifically assigned him to make sure Ms. Carlisle's acquisition went without a hitch.

Once introductions had been exchanged, Nicolas escorted Jennifer to the front passenger seat and helped her board. He let his hand linger slightly on her arm as he did so, noting how her blush increased slightly. Yes, like most American women, a handsome man with a French accent definitely revved her engine. She'd soon follow him anywhere.

Glancing at her as she stretched the shoulder restraint strap over her massive bosom, he felt a pang of disappointment that he wasn't allowed to try the goods. But Renoit had made clear that this Carlisle woman was a special project of Sergei's. Nicolas had never met the Russian personally, but he knew well the stories. One did not cross Sergei unless one had an urge to die slowly and painfully.

After loading her luggage in the back, Yefim climbed into the rear seat on the passenger side while Nicolas took the wheel. Nicolas piloted the SUV into Parisian traffic while keeping a running conversation with Jennifer. His practiced gift of gab let him talk easily about most anything, so he had her chatting away, heedless of their direction. It was nearly half an hour before she noticed that the bright lights of the city center had given way towards the darkened warehouses near the docks. She voiced a concerned, "Um, where are we?" as Nicolas turned the car from a dark side street into an even darker alley, but by then it was too late.

Nicolas looked in the rear view mirror and nodded at Yefim as he slowed the car to a stop. Jennifer's next words Samantha’s last sentence was cut off in a squeak as Yefim's Gerard’s meaty right paw closed over her face. His other hand encircled her from behind, pinning her upper chest and arms to the seat so she could not struggle.

While she was distracted by Yefim, Nicolas withdrew a syringe from inside his jacket and removed the protective cap. “Je suis désolé, ma petite fleur,” he murmured, then plunged the needle into her left thigh. Jennifer squeal was muffled by Yefim's hand. She struggled in vain against his iron grip, her squirming growing steadily weaker as the ketamine took effect. The dosage had been carefully measured for her body weight and blood chemistry (Renoit had her medical records hacked months ago), so it was not long before her head lolled to one side as she fell into unconsciousness.

"Bien," Nicolas pronounced, and Yefim let loose his grip. He put the car in gear and headed towards the warehouse. Though she did not know it yet, Jennifer had seen all she ever would of Paris. And the world had seen the last it ever would of her.

 

[haremfaery]

((Great post! I'm not sure where she is being taken and by what means and when and where Jennifer will wake up... I'm assuming she'll end up somewhere not France, somewhere in the middle east? the Balkans? Or some villa that is more like a compound... But in the meantime, will she wake up on a plane or train heading to her new destination, or just wake up when she gets there? I'll be happy to make edits. I looked up ketamine--I'd never heard of it. Apparently you can have hallucinations and/or strange dreams for up to 24 hrs after using it. Poor Jennifer will relaly be out of it for awhile.))

Jennifer had to smile at the big man. he seemed like such an awkward teddy bear. He looked and sounded like he might be from the middle east. She knew France had a lot of middle easterners living there now.

She hefted her carry-on bag on her shoulder and walked along with 'Gerard.' That couldn't possibly be his real name. Perhaps he took it to fit into French society better. There was a lot of prejudice here. She imagined he and the driver had been hired by the university to pick her up.

She told him how excited she was to be in Paris to study here. How her parents had finally given her permission and were looking forward to visiting her here. Which made her very happy because her parents were so busy they usually didn't pay much attention to what she did. She went on and on as they made their way through the terminal to the exit. She even mentioned that she was learning middle eastern dance. That won her a look and another grunted 'oui' from the man.

"Rene, please call me Jennifer. Or Jenn. Ms Carlisle is my mother." She smiled and blushed at the handsome man. His French was impeccable and made her feel like she was speaking baby talk. But this would be good practice and Rene was so personable.

They had been driving for some time, longer than they should have, Jennifer thought. She frowned and asked, "Where _are_ we?" She realized that her student apartment would not be in the poshest past of Paris, but they were no where near anything that looked like a university. Just what was going on here? She was more puzzled than anything else. Rene probably missed a turn while they were talking. She had done that herself on a few occasions.

Jennifer was wrong. 'Gerard' grabbed her from behind holding her against the seat with one hand while his other clamped over her mouth. As if anyone could hear her scream. There was no one around al all. No cars. Nothing. Her eyes looked at Rene in horror. How could he do this to her? Why?

Jennifer struggled, but it was no use. Rene plunged the needle into her thigh. She yelped and bucked, but 'Gerard' held her helpless. Finally she succumbed to the drug and the strange dreams it created.

Dreams of serial killers and sexual sadists. Dreams of dancing dancing dancing. Dreams of floating and falling. Of being manhandled and stripped. Voices. Masculine unfriendly voices. Arguing. About her?

Her body felt like it was encased in cotton, her mouth was dry. She couldn't move. Not even to twitch a finger or open her eyes. But her hearing was coming back. Slowly. She was so tired. Why was she tired.

Where was she? How did she get here? What was the last thing she remembered?

The Paris airport. The big man, Gerard, and the handsome man, Rene. Driving to her apartment at the university. But...wait. Why couldn't she remember? They did something to her. They _did_ something to her. She wanted to scream and could not. Dear god, she was locked inside her own head.

 

[haremfaery]

((argh, this was supposed ot have posted 20 mins ago, so I did it again and now have two. So ignore this.))

 

[saedo]

Renoit gazed down at Jennifer. The fluorescent lighting overhead was not particularly flattering to anyone's skin tone, but even with that handicap she was still quite a vision. Clad in nothing but a hospital gown, she lay back in bed sleeping.

Her unconsciousness was drug-induced and had been kept this way for the past few days. He'd eventually need to take her off that regimen, but for the moment he preferred to keep her complacent and senseless. Still, he had her arms and legs tied to the bedframe, just in case.

He turned to the man in the lab coat who was currently flipping through a chart. "Dr. Larouche?" he prompted.

Larouche looked up, a nervous expression on his face. Larouche always looked nervous in Renoit's presence, or indeed amongst most anyone who worked for Renoit. Given the man's aversion to the criminal element, Renoit often pondered how the man had managed to gamble his way into a six-figure debt with one of his bookies. But so Larouche had, which was how Renoit was able to command the services of one of the top internists in the city.

"Ahem," Larouche began. "The patient is quite healthy. I detect no infirmities or other chronic conditions. Her cardiovascular system is in excellent condition and she shows excellent muscle tone. She's quite athletic, which is rather unusual given her rather voluptuous build. Does she spend large amounts of time at at the gym?"

Renoit cast a baleful glance at Larouche. "Is that pertinent to your assessment, Doctor?"

Larouche paled slightly, sensing he'd overstepped. "No, no, not particularly. I was-"

Renoit raised a hand sharply, cutting the doctor off in mid-sentence. "Then do not waste my time. What about the other factors I asked you to look at?"

Larouche swallowed and continued. "Uh, yes, of course. Her tox-screen came back negative across the board, save of course for the sedatives I've been using to keep her under. I did a hair test for illegal drugs, which did have some trace elements for THC, the active element in marijuana. Given the lack of anything from her blood test, I'd postulate her exposure was limited and that she shows no signs of being a habitual drug user."

Renoit nodded approvingly. "And her sexual status?"

"Her hymen is indeed intact. All signs indicate that she is still a virgin."

Renoit resisted the urge to grin broadly in front of Larouche. His surveillance of Carlisle had revealed a boyfriend of what the investigator estimated was a couple months. Given that plus her age and appearance, it seemed likely she was sexually active by now. This discovery would prove a major coup. He could readily demand three times the price for a certified virgin. The thought of the euros he would clear from this deal made him giddy.

Still, no need for Larouche to know more than he needed. Forcing himself to contain his glee, he merely nodded. "What about the breasts?"

Even with his anxiety in front of Renoit, the doctor's mood perked up immediately. "Oh, quite remarkable. I thought certainly they must be implants given their size and resilience, but the scans reveal them to be completely natural."

Renoit nodded, again relieved. The stolen medical records they'd acquired for Jennifer had not indicated any plastic surgery, but he couldn't discount the possibility that the records were incomplete. Had that been so, the whole deal would've been blown. The Sultan had been very insistent on that point.

"A thorough examination revealed that the patient has a particularly high ratio of ductile to adipose tissue." That earned the doctor a withering gaze; Renoit did not care for Larouche's propensity for medical jargon. "Ahem -- I mean that she has very little fat in her breasts relative to the glands and ducts involved in lactation. This accounts for the breasts' rather surprising firmness."

"And with regard to lactation?"

"I'd estimate she'd be quite a producer once induced. As we discussed, I could provide her the necessary hormones to simulate a pregnancy. Combined with sufficient manual stimulation of the nipples, it would take about 2-3 weeks for milk production to begin."

Renoit nodded. Though the Sultan hadn't requested it, careful documentation of the Sultan's past patronage of Renoit's stable had indicated a possible fetish for it. On one occasion a year ago, the Sultan had reportedly been delighted to discover one of the women servicing him was also nursing. After sucking the woman's breasts dry, he'd doubled his usual (and already generous) tip. Renoit had no intention of missing the slightest chance to improve Carlisle's appeal. Given the amount of money being discussed Ms. Carlisle, even a 5% gain in the purchase price could be a considerable sum. "I'll think about it and let you know whether to begin treatment. Is there anything else?"

Larouche shook his head. Renoit cocked his head towards the door. Recognizing he'd been dismissed, Larouche departed.

Renoit gazed at the sleeping woman and took a deep breath. Time to tell Sergei to notify the Sultan. He hadn't dared give the go-ahead till he'd fully checked out Carlisle lest some hidden disqualifying feature reveal itself. Given that Renoit already had tens of thousands of Euros invested in her, it was a relief to have his expectations confirmed.

Sergei had an auction already planned in just over a week's time. A variety of contraband would be up for sale for a variety of criminal elements, so the Sultan would likely be in attendance. That gave Renoit the remaining time to get Carlisle made ready. He ticked off the things yet to be done - lingerie, dress, shoes, make-up, mani/pedi, waxing, perhaps the doctor's treatments, etc. She'd also likely have to be conscious for at least some of that. He'd make sure a ball gag and restraints were on hand in case she proved too stupid to behave.

He sighed. Still so much to do. But the end was in sight.

 

[haremfaery]

Jennifer's dreams continued. or rather nightmares. The most common dream now was of aliens. She was abducted by them, poked and probed. She would awaken on a table with bright lights overhead. Male voices spoke, she could make out some words but never enough to make sense of what was said.

Sometimes it seemed like she was having an out of body experience. Her soul was hovering somewhere above her watching things happen to her body. Some sort of doctor giving her injections. Talk of lactation. had the aliens made her pregnant? When would they send her home?

She thought she would go mad trapped inside her head not knowing what was real and what was a dream. But all of it was strange. It all had to be a dream. A never ending dream. That was the only thing that made sense.

Sometimes she had stretches of lucidity when she thought about Paris and her parents and iof they were looking for her. She had no sense of time. She didn't know how long she had been here or where she was. Then the aliens would come back and everything was dreamtime again.

Once she had a dream that an alien came to her and knelt over her. He took out his alien cock and rubbed it between her breasts. He held her breasts together tightly and fucked her beasts. She should have felt it, how hard he held her. She could hear his moans. He came with a final grunt. She should have felt his cum as it dripped down both sides of her neck. But she could feel nothing. She screamed inside her head. It was disgusting to be used like this. Was she some alien's sex doll?

Her dreams drifted away to other things.

 

[saedo]

The night of the event came far too quickly for Renoit. Somehow he'd managed to accomplish everything he needed. Jennifer sat against a high backed wooden chair, her upper arms bound with soft nylon ropes to keep her upright. Though he'd reduced the level of sedation, she was still sufficiently woozy as to pose no threat of physical resistance.

She glanced up at him, her eyes glassy and confused. For perhaps the dozenth time in the past half hour, she mumbled, "Where am I?"

"You're at the party, remember?" Renoit said brightly. It didn't matter much what he said since in a few minutes she'd forget she'd asked and inquire yet again. His friendly tone seemed to ease her mind and she'd go back to numbly observing her surroundings for a few minutes.

Despite her semi-drunk behavior, she looked good. She wore a nice evening dress that clung delightfully to her curves. Her nails gleamed from this morning's manicure and her hair and makeup highlighted her natural beauty. Beneath the dress, her lower torso had been waxed to silky smoothness, save for a thin vertical strip above her pussy.

Sergei had called several minutes ago. Their other business concluded, he was bringing the Sultan by to inspect their special selection just for him.

Renoit smiled down at Jennifer. "It won't be long now, dear," he murmured.

 

[haremfaery]

Jennifer smiled at the handsome man. They were at a party. She liked parties. She had a vague recollection of getting ready for the party, having her hair and nails done. She shifted in her seat. "I don't like this chair." She murmured. The room seemed too bright. if this was a party, she wanted to dance.

"Where am I?"

 

[saedo]

Kadar followed Sergei into the room. It had been a long day of negotiations. Sergei's ability to procure weapons was impressive, but his relentless attention to detail did grow wearying after several hours. Kadar was eager to return to his yacht to rest, waving off Sergei's offer of dinner and an evening's entertainment from Sergei's brothel.

However, Sergei promised one last item for Kadar to consider. "Something special," he'd purred in that thick accent. Tired as Kadar was, he could not help but be intrigued.

"Ah, Sultan, let me present my associate, Mr. Renoir." Kadar nodded curtly at the Frenchman, not deigning to shake hands with such an obvious subordinate.

If he minded the slight, Renoir knew better than to show it. "Your excellency, with regard to your special request.... " He paused, smiling broadly. "We found her."

Kadar's dark brows raised. Her? Could it be...?

Before he could ponder further Renoir stepped aside, revealing the dark-haired figure in the chair behind him. Kadar's heart began thud in his chest. The woman had the face of an angel, though it was marred slightly by a dopey grin. Drugged, no doubt, making her easier to control.

Kadar kept quiet as Renoir launched into his sales pitch. The Frenchman smoothly described the woman's background, medical history, and training. His patter continued unabated as he guided Jennifer to her feet to better show off her assets.

Kadar barely minded Renoir's words. He'd nearly forgotten mentioning the idea to Sergei months ago. The idea had not even been his own, but rather that of his wife, Fatima. Their marriage had been more about politics and familial obligations than any burning affection, but they'd developed a fondness and respect for one another. She had also borne him three lovely daughters and proven to be an excellent wife and mother.

Sexually, however, they had never been very compatible. Fatima was a slender, petite woman. - the epitome of a frail desert flower. Kadar, though not particularly tall, had a broad, stocky build. Though in middle age, little of his heavy limbs had turned to fat. With such physical disparity, intimacy meant he had to constantly hold himself back. Even that gentleness was limited; even after three children, Fatima found his tremendous girth uncomfortable to bear. Consequently, neither found much sexual satisfaction.

Still, Fatima never refused him, considering it her marital duty to attend to his needs. Kadar had thus never taken out his physical frustrations on her. He also confined his infidelities to his trips abroad so as to let no dishonor fall on her from the local community.

But last year Fatima had been diagnosed with bone cancer. The prognosis for survival was slim and the treatments needed to fight the disease would impose a horrific toll on her. Recognizing her fate, she had spoken directly to him. "Kadar, I wish you to take a mistress."

She predicted quite correctly that eventually the chemotherapy would sap her strength and leave her a pale shell of her former self. Knowing well her husband's ravenous appetite, she would not have him go unserviced when she no longer could care for him. Kadar initially refused, but she insisted. She only asked that he keep his liaisons secret and not select anyone known to the local community.

So Kadar had briefly indulged his fantasies in describing his ideal lover to Sergei. He'd never imagined such a woman might actually be procurable. But judging by what he'd seen of Jennifer so far, Sergei might have just done the impossible.

 

[haremfaery]

((Good to see you're back!! ))

Jennifer wobbled a little when Renoir helped her stand. Her dress clung to her thighs before gravity helped it fall in graceful folds around her legs.

She put her arm around him to steady herself. She giggled. She was not normally a giggler but everything suddenly seemed very funny.

Did Renoir call the man a sultan? "Sultan? Like Aladdin?" She giggled again. "Do you have a magic carpet?" She absentmindedly stroked Renoir's back. She was feeling very tactile. She didn't remember drinking anything, but she must be very drunk. She giggled again. The drugs were wearing off enough for her to feel very drunk and still not making sense of what was going on.

 

[saedo]

Kadar observed in rapt silence as Renoir continued to describe Jennifer. Standing up, her curves were all the more apparent. The dress flattered her beautifully. His mouth felt dry with desire.

Renoir continued to point out her features. All natural curves. Legs of a dancer. It was all vaguely reminiscent of his last trip to the Bentley dealership.

Renoir smiled at her and said charmingly, "I'm sure the Sultan would like to a bit more, Jennifer. Let's show him just how fit you are." Renoir reached behind her neck and tugged at her dress. Moments later, the delicate fabric began slipping down her torso, pooling at her feet.

Kadar's eyes widened with lust. Jennifer stood before him in several hundred dollars of scant lace and silk lingerie a shade of blue similar to that of her eyes. Her massive breasts rose and fell with hypnotic grace at every breath. It was only with some effort that he was able to notice her trim belly and the slender, toned musculature of her legs.

Jennifer seemed not to notice the attention being paid to her, but merely giggled. "Chilly in here," she murmured softly. Indeed. Kadar whispered a quiet oath as he saw two impossibly thick indentations form in her bra as her nipples hardened.

"Oh, and one last thing . . . ," said Renoir with a sly smile. "Our physician has given her a thorough examination and certifies that she is a virgin."

Virgin. The word set a tuning fork off in his loins. This young goddess was untouched? The lust pooling within his groin coalesced into a bar of iron running down his right pants leg. He must have this woman.

Kadar turned to Sergei. "Sold," he grunted.

Sergei looked puzzled. "But we have not yet negotiated a price . . . ."

Kadar held up a hand. "I will not haggle over this. Put her on my yacht. I trust you to charge me a reasonable fee for your efforts." He paused and narrowed his eyes slightly.

Sergei nodded. Kadar would pay a high price for quality, but he would not be cheated. "Renoir will see to it."

Kadar turned and left and Sergei followed. Renoir turned to Jennifer, confused by the circumstances in her drug-addled state. "You did well, my dear." She smiled, glad for the praise, though not understanding why.

He placed a blanket over her shoulders. "Here, this will help with the chill." As she pulled the warm cover around her, Renoir stepped behind her and withdrew the small vial and handkerchief from his side pocket. Tipping a few drops into the cloth, he swept his arm around her and clamped the dosed cloth over her mouth and nose.

Jennifer struggled but a moment, but her already drug-induced haze made her easy prey for the swift-acting anesthetic. She wobbled against Renoir as her muscle control faded. He guided her collapsing form into the chair, letting her chin sink to her chest as she faded into unconsciousness.

Renoir smiled softly at the dozing girl. Such incredible beauty. It seemed rather sad to know what a dark fate lay in store. When next she woke, she would be in a world far removed from any she had ever known.

He sighed. Such sentimentality had little place in his line of work. "Goodbye, my sweet," he whispered and left the room.

 

[haremfaery]

((Hmm, I didn't like what I had posted previously at all and after thinking some more, I came up with this...))

Jennifer woke up a little, the room was dark. She had a headache. She rolled over and went back to sleep.

Jennifer woke again sometime later with her fist between her legs. She sighed a little and rolled onto her back putting her hand inside her panties. She kept her eyes closed, she wasn't ready to wake up yet. She had such strange dreams the night before, she wasn't ready to ponder thos either.

She stroked her clit gently rocking her pelvis She never put her fingers inside her, somehow that made this dirty. But she had let her boyfriend to it. But that was all. Maybe if they had dated longer he would have finally coaxed her into going all the way, but she was afraid it would hurt. She didn't use tampons because she had so much trouble getting them inside.

She wadded up the sheets and shoved them between her legs and rolled over on her stomach. She humped the sheets slowly at first, then faster and faster. She moaned in to the pillow rocking her hips until--she cried out as she came. She rocked her hips a bit longer enjoying the aftermath. But she was starting to remember things.

She rolled onto her back and opened her eyes. She had a slight headache. Probably from the party last night. She frowned. She couldn't remember anything except being at a party. But--she frowned. Where was she? She could remember the plane ride and being picked up by that handsome man. But--she had no recollection of going to her student's apartment in Paris, or anything else for that matter. Not exactly. She had strange memories, of medical procedures and bright lights, of strange men and low voices. She almost laughed, had she been abducted by aliens? That must have been some party. Yes, she drank. But she didn't do drugs. She wondered if someone slipped her something.

She looked around the room. Where the hell was she? She got out of bed and regretted her quick movement because now her head was pounding. There was a carafe of water and a glass on the nightstand. She filled the glass and downed it, then filled it again and only drank half. She was parched.

The room was large and what she could only describe as opulent. Rich colors and textures, the furniture looked expensive, antiques maybe. She looked at herself in a large mirror. She didn't look anythe worse for wear except her hair was a mess. She was wearing a blue slik nightie with a matching thong. The blue brought out the color of her eyes. Except, she didn't own anything like this.

Jennifer didn't know if she should be curious or frightened. Maybe she was still under the influence of the drug because she couldn't seem to stir up any real panic although a part of her deep in her mind was screaming at her to do something.

She tried a door across the room that seemed like it should take her out. It was locked. She tried another, it was also locked. She tried a third smaller door and discovered a large bathroom with a huge tub. She took care of her morning business and washed up.

She went back to the bedroom and looked for a phone. The place had the air of a hotel room she thought. No phone. Now she was beginning to panic. She went through every drawer. All empty. She tried every door. The bathroom, a closet and two locked doors. She pulled the curtains open to reveal that there were no windows. She paced. She thought about screaming. She banged on the locked door.

((Not sure where you planned on having her wake up. I'm imagining she is somewhere in the Sultan's compound. Since there are two locked doors, anything can be behind them... If you need me to change something based on your future plans for Jenn, just let me know.))

 

[saedo]

The guard keeping watch on her room had reported that Jennifer had begun banging on the outer door. Kadar kept her waiting in suspense for nearly hour, lingering over his strong, dark coffee.

At last, Kadar approached the thick door and unlocked it. Several feet back stood an anxious Jennifer. She opened her mouth tentatively to speak, but then shut it in fear as two of Kadar's bodyguards followed him inside. One of them carried an armload of leather straps and the other a metal chair, which he set down with a muffled clang.

"Sit in the chair," Kadar commanded.

Jennifer looked confused and frightened. She began to speak, but Kadar interrupted. "Sit in the chair. I will not tell you again."

As he had expected, Jennifer was too used to her decadent upbringing to understand being treated so callously. She backed away, demanding to know what was going on.

Kadar barked out an order and the two guards immediately strode forward. Jennifer made an attempt to flee, but had nowhere to go. She lashed out and struggled, but her dancer's training was of limited use against the burly guards. Soon they had her pinned down in the chair, whereupon they strapped her to the heavy metal frame with the leather straps. Soon her only freedom of movement were her feet, hands, and head. To combat her yowls of protest, a ball gag was strapped in place around her head.

His property secure, Kadar left the room. As previously instructed, the guards hefted Jennifer and chair off the ground, following after their employer. Kadar led them downstairs and into the courtyard. He sat down at a table underneath a large umbrella, its center dominated by a large plate of fresh fruit. The guards set down Jennifer's chair a short distance away. Jennifer blinked at the brightness of the morning sun as it streamed across the outer walls of the compound.

Kadar picked up a pale red apple from the table and sliced into it with a knife. The crisp flesh released a sweet aroma as he carved out a piece. He could see by the longing in JenniferJennifer's eyes how hungry she was. He smiled, then bit into the slice, watching her watch him eat.

"Jennifer, I do not care for repeating myself, so listen closely. Your life as you knew it is gone. You will never see any part of it again. You must let your past go and accept your new existence.

"You belong to me. I own you. You are my slave and will do as I wish. Your body is my plaything and I shall enjoy it as I see fit. Obey me well and you will be rewarded. Disobey and you will be punished.

"You may initially think of escape. To attempt it would be foolish. My compound is well guarded and my men know I am not a man to be crossed; none of them will help you.

"Beyond those walls lies miles of nothing but rock and sand. It barely past morning and already the heat of the sand is unpleasant to your bare feet; imagine the pain of walking across it at midday.

"You are also the only Caucasian woman in hundreds of square miles who does not speak the language. You will not be hard for my men to find. And I assure you that there is not a soul in that space who would help you rather than currently my favor by delivering you back to me.

"So you have but one choice to make." He gestured and one of the guards removed her ball gag. "Do you take me at my word? Or do you wish to test my claims to power?"

 

[haremfaery]

((Thumbs down? Poor Jennifer.))

Jennifer fought like a demon but she might as well have been pounding an a brick wall. The men were big and seemed impervious to anything she did or said. She might have been a piece of furniture for the way they treated her. She had never even seen a ball gag let alone had one used on her. She thought she might retch the way it kept her from speaking. Swallowing was difficult.

Jennifer was frightened and angry. Part of her retreated from what was happening. It was simply too unbelievable to be real. She was carried downstairs and into a courtyard. It was bright and much warmer outside than in the house. Her heart pounded and she tried to make sense of all of this.

Her eyes went to the table laden with fruit. Her mouth began to water, the saliva trickled out of the corner of her mouth and dripped onto the silk of her nightie over her breast. She watched as the man cut into an apple and took a bite. She could smell the sweet scent, she could imagine how crisp the apple would taste. Her stomach growled. And she was very thirsty.

She listened to the man but was having a hard time registering what he was saying. This had ot be a dream, or a joke. This wasn't real. This sort of thing didn't happen in real life.

When the ball gag was removed, Jennifer swallowed and licked her lips. She breathed deeply her full round breasts heaved. She looked at the man and nearly screamed. "I am an American citizen. This is illegal! You can't hold me against my will." She struggled in the chair. "The university will know I'm missing. My parents will know I'm missing. Interpol will be searching for me already. You can't do this. You won't get away with this." She shouted.

 

[saedo]

Kadar smirked at her outburst. Arrogant American. Naturally she believed that she was still entitled to deference from the world.

Even with her hair in disarray and her face contorted with anger, she was stunningly beautiful. His shaft thickened at the thought of her pouty lips wrapping around it. Such a pity that he would have to wait a while longer to bed her. But first she had to be brought to heel.

Kadar turned to his guards. "Put her in the box."

The guards nodded. Lifting the chair she was strapped to, the two men carried Jennifer across the courtyard to where a pair of corrugated metal structures stood. Roughly cube-shaped, the metal was dull and dusty from years of exposure. The metal sides fit poorly, allowing finger-width gaps in a few places along the seams. The front of each featured a door that latched shut with a simple sliding bolt. The guards opened the right one, the screech of unoiled metal hinges loud in the mid-morning air. The interior featured nothing but the sandy dirt as a floor. Jennifer and her chair filled up most of the space, for the box was too cramped to stand up or stretch out in.

Jennifer had continued to protest loudly throughout this process. Her voice took on traces of fear as she realized her impending imprisonment. The guards ignored her cries and closed the squeaky door, muffling her now frantic squeals.

Kadar left to attend to various business. He did not return for several hours. As the sun dipped towards the western horizon, he had the guards retrieve Jennifer from the box. A much quieter Jennifer emerged. Sitting in the sun, the poorly ventilated box's interior had climbed to unpleasant heights. Jennifer's silk nightie clung to her like a second skin, now several shades darker from her sweat. Her face looked haggard and drawn. Her breath came in shallow gasps.

She looked balefully up at him, but her gaze locked onto the bottle of water Kadar carried in his hand. Satisfied he had her attention, he twisted the plastic top off and extended the bottle over her head. Unable to move due to her bonds, she craned her head back to follow his grasp.

Smiling cruelly, Kadar tipped the bottle over. The water splashed down into her face. Jennifer strained to catch what she could in her mouth, lapping at it like some thirsty dog. Most escaped down her face, but her eyes proclaimed how precious that portion she was able to get.

Kadar turned away and went inside. Two guards followed behind, carrying Jennifer's chair. Re-entering her bedroom, he strode past the sumptuous bed with its satin sheets and instead opened up one of heavy metal doors on the far wall. This revealed a room with featureless concrete walls and floor. The only objects inside were a metal toilet bolted to the floor and a folded wool blanket.

The guards unstrapped Jennifer from the chair. The broadness of the straps had kept them from cutting into her skin, but she would definitely have bruises from where she strained against them all day. Once free, they carried her exhausted form inside and let her slump to the floor. The door closed after her with a somber clang.

Kadar nodded. A day of dehydration followed by a night on a concrete floor and drinking water from the toilet should convey his message quite clearly. Tommorrow he would see if she had yet learned her place.

 

[haremfaery]

Jennifer was shocked to see the metal boxes in the corner of the courtyard. They were like something from an old prison movie, or stories told about how prisoners were treated in foreign countries to try and get information from them, to break them.

What did this man expect to gain from her? She wasn't worth anything politically. Her parents had some money, but they weren't nearly wealthy on a scale to make ransom lucrative.

Jennifer struggled in her chair for awhile, but it wasn't long before the stifling heat made doing anything impossible. She could feel the moisture being sucked out of her body. She couldn't remember the last time she had anything to eat. Or more importantly, when she last had something to drink.

"I'll die in here!" she yelled. But it came out hoarse and had no power. Jennifer decided she would be better to stay calm and preserve her strength.

Time slipped by. Jennifer had no idea how long she stayed in the box. At first she felt like every pore in her body was sweating, but after awhile her lips dried and chapped. It was hard to swallow. All she could think about was water. Or that apple. That apple the man had cut and bitten into with his very white teeth. She imagined apples all around her, rubbing them all over her skin, sucking the juice, crunching into the flesh. Her head lolled. She didn't even have any tears left to cry.

When she was finally removed from the box, the cooler outside air hit her like a shot of whiskey. She glared at the man who had done this to her. he taunted her with a bottle of water. She licked her dry lips. She couldn't help herself. Then the bastard tipped the water and spilled it over her head. She was able to catch some of it in her mouth. It tasted like heaven. But the bottle was empty all too soon and most of the water had just soaked her face and dripped down her neck and chest.

"More," she croaked. "I need more water." The man strode away. "I
ll die without water, you asshole!" She tried to scream at him. His guards, or whatever they were picked up the chair and carried her back inside, through the room she had awakened in to one of the doors she had found locked earlier.

It was a room from some cheesy Babes Behind Bars movie. They carried her into the room and unceremoniously dumped her on the floor. It was rough under her skin. She didn't have any fight left in her to scream any more.

She laid on the floor for awhile. Her body ached, she was so tired. Her thirst finally made her get up and inspect the room. No sink. How could there not be a sink? Just the toilet. Was she expected to drink out of that like a dog? Her nightie was stiff and scratchy from the dried sweat on it. She plucked it away from her skin and thought about taking it off. She licked her lips again, she was so thirsty.

Somewhere Jennifer remembered reading that some people drank their urine as part of a ritual.and that you could drink your urine three times before it wouldn't be any good for hydration. Also that urine was aseptic. But poop, that was just, ew.

She wondered how long it had been since someone used this room. How long since it had been cleaned. She wondered if that guy, the one who clearly was in charge, kept a series of women in here. It didn't look like he had just built it. What kind of a sick puppy was this guy?

She looked at the toilet again. If she flushed it and got fresh water in it, that would not be so bad, would it? Oh god, look at her, seriously considering drinking from a toilet. She crawled over to the toilet. Her body ached. She flushed it. The water didn't smell bad. she scooped up some with her hand making herself think she was drinking from a basin. Once she started drinking, she couldn't stop. She mind might rebel from drinking from a toilet, but her body needed the water and once she started she didn't stop until she was sated.

She crawled over to the blanket and fell asleep.

 

[saedo]

The next morning, Kadar had Jennifer brought to him in the courtyard. He sat at the table, enjoying his breakfast. She looked much the worse for wear today. The silk lingerie she wore was stained with dirt and dried sweat. Her long hair was in need of brushing and her whole body could do with a shower.

Even so, he still could not doubt her core beauty. She was a ragged goddess in need of a bath, but a goddess nonetheless. Even in this bedraggled state, he could consider fucking her.

He bit into a slice of orange and chewed a moment. "Now you have seen what fate may await you if you displease me. Serve me well and you will live a life of luxury. But flout my authority and you will know nothing but torment and degradation.

"So what will you have today? If you like, you may join me for breakfast and then have a hot bath and clean clothes. Or you may refuse me further and be punished accordingly." Kadar shrugged. "I suggest choosing the first option. "

 

[haremfaery]

Jennifer had no fight left in her after a night of sleeping on hard concrete and drinking from the toilet to try and get enough water into her dehydrated body. She hadn't had to pee at all, which she was thankful for because drinking from the toilet was disgusting enough. She would have cried if she had the energy.

Jennifer was again brought before the man who must own this place. He acted as if he owned the world. He made her the offer of food and a bath if she complied, or more punishment if she did not. Her eyes slipped sideways to look at the metal box where she had spent sweltering the day before.
Jennifer salivated watching the man eat an orange. She could smell it from where she stood. She hated herself for it, but she gave in. She couldn't escape if she were dead. No one would be able to rescue her if she were long dead and buried.

She nodded and looked down at her filthy feet. "Food please." She had no idea what the man wanted from her, but for now, she wanted food desperately.

 

[saedo]

Kadar nodded approvingly, and signaled a servant. Moments later a plate of assorted fruit slices and pieces of sweetbread. He watched with a smile as she tentatively began to dine.

"Good," he pronounced. "It would be such a shame to see your beauty waste away from hunger. Later today, think of some of your favorite meals and I shall see the chefs are made aware. Though we are surrounded by desert, I have access to quite an array of commodities. I should like that you find comfort in your accommodations."

Kadar watched her eat a moment more, then stood. "My duties call me away, but I shall return tonight." He paused. "I am told that you are skilled in the art of dance. Tonight you shall demonstrate." He nodded, pleased with his decision.

"If you have any requirements, ask the guards. Abdul speaks reasonable English." The shorter guard with the thin mustache nodded. "Of course, you will be confined to the compound. Should you attempt to flee or disobey the staff, they have my authority to lock you in your room until I return." His eyes narrowed menacingly. "Do not give me cause to punish you."

He held his glare for a moment, then his eyes widened along with his smile. "Very good. I look forward to your performance. " Kadar turned and left, leaving Jennifer and the guards behind.

 

[haremfaery]

Jennifer used all the self control she had not to stuff her face with the food. She pretended that she had been invited to brunch and was wearing a pretty lacy dress and not a sweat-stained nightie that stank.

Jennifer was confused. Now he was being nice. Was this some sort of brainwashing he was trying to do to her? Was he going to try and make a suicide bomber out of ehr or something. She thought about Patty Hearst, captured, brutalized and raped by her abductors and then she ended up working with them.

She wondered what bizarre or difficult food requests she could make and if they would try and make it for her. Really, she did not eat that much, as a dancer, she had to watch her weight. She tried to eat healthy foods.

"You want me to dance? But I don't have any of my music, or leotards, or a costume." She said and was immediately surprised that she even spoke to him. But she took her dancing very seriously and she couldn't just dance to any music, nor wear just anything to perform.

"What sort of dance were you expecting? Lyrical? Contemporary? Ballet?" She didn't want to do a dance he didn't like, he might put her back in that box. She could at least act like she was trying to be accommodating.

Jennifer looked at Abdul. How cliche. But the look the man gave her chilled her to her core. Hadn't she been punished enough? She almost sighed aloud when he left. It was then she realized that she still didn't know this man name. This man who seemed to control everything and everyone.

She finished eating an orange. "Abdul, what is that man's name? What am I supposed to call him?"

"Is there a place I can practice after I get clean and change?"

Abdul didn't seem like one for small talk, so Jennifer decided she would keep asking practical questions.

((If you want her to try something after she's washed, let me know.))

 

[saedo]

Abdul merely grunted, acknowledging her inquiry but choosing not to converse with her. When she had finished eating, he grumbled, "This way." His accent was far heavier than his employer's; he had much less use for English than Kadar.

Jennifer fell in step behind him, the other guard trailing behind. He lead her back to a room across the hall from the sumptuous bedroom (and its much less pleasant concrete cell). Opening it revealed a sizeable room. Near the door was a series of cabinets, standing wardrobes, and shelves. Further in stood a makeup table, as evidenced by a collection of neatly stacked lipsticks and mascara cases and the large, well-lit three-way mirror.

The far enIn the far corner of the room was a tiled area that was clearly a bathroom. In addition to a simple toilet and sink, a glass-walled shower glinted in the light. Unlike the simple overhead shower she was used to, this fancier version featured water nozzles mounted on both sides and at multiple heights. Next to the shower stood a large tub. As with the shower, it featured nozzles all along the sides, showing it to be part jacuzzi as well.

"Clothes there," Abdul grunted, pointing to the nearby wardrobes. Indeed, several of the shelves featured various forms of female footwear - primarily high heels, though Jennifer spotted some tall leather boots as well as a few pairs of ballet slippers. Opening a wardrobe, she found a similar mix of dresses, mostly of satin or silk. Tugging on a drawer revealed neatly folded panties in various hues. Jennifer suspected she would find that everything had been sized to fit her.

"You behave, you get to use these things. If not . . .," Abdul trailed off, the suggestion of what punishment might await her misbehavior left open to the imagination.

"Clean up now. Put dirty clothes there," Abdul instructed, pointing at what at an empty basket near the door. "We wait outside." He closed the door behind him, leaving Jennifer alone.

 

[haremfaery]

"Thanks for nothing." Jennifer muttered. How was she supposed to know what sort of dance to do? How long had it been since she arrived in Paris? How long since she practiced? She was used to clocking lots of hours practicing different forms of dance. She felt...squishy. She needed to dance, her body missed it.

She finished her meal in silence since Abdul refused to answer any questions. She wondered if he had done this sort of thing before: guarded some poor girl for that man. her thoughts kept shying away from just what that man wanted from her. She didn't think he just wanted someone to dance for him. She imagined he had enough money to hire anyone to do anything he wanted. So why this? Why abduction?

Now that she finished eating all she could stand without making herself sick she really wanted to get clean.

The ever-talkative Abdul led her to a room across from the one she had spent her first night in. It was the biggest dressing room she had ever seen. The shoes and clothes all looked to be her size and colors that would look good with her skin and hair and eyes. At least at first glance, Jennifer didn't see anything that looked like it was her own. Renoir had taken her luggage. She wondered what happened to it. She wondered if her parents had come to Paris to find her.

Jennifer peeled off the disgusting nightie and thong and tossed them in the basket. She brushed away a tear and headed for the bathroom. She looked around for hidden cameras, it would not surprise her at all if that man got off watching her in here. There were bottles with labels in different languages mostly French and what she supposed was Arabic and bars of different soaps. She sniffed them and picked the ones that smelled like some sort of spicy jasmine.

She turned the shower on and adjusted the water temperature. She wasn't sure she liked the idea of getting bombarded by water on all sides at once. It seemed an awful waste of water. She fiddled with the shower heads so she wasn't getting squirted in the face. She took the bath sponge and soaped it up. What a luxury to rub her body and rid it of dried sweat and stink. She washed her hair three times before she was satisfied it was squeaky clean. She stayed in the shower for a long time just letting the water cascade down her body.

Jennifer stepped out of the shower and found a french body lotion and smeared it over her arms and legs. She decided she should enjoy anything and everything she could just now. She kept pushing thoughts away of what the man would do to her if he wasn't happy with her. She really saw no way she could escape.

She wasn't sure how to dress. What was she expected to do the rest of the day until she was supposed to dance for Mr. No Name.

She opened the drawer where she had discovered the panties before and picked a pair of pastel striped bikinis. She hunted for a bra and finally found a drawer with an assortment. They were all pretty fancy and all her size, though if the man knew anything, just because it was her size didn't mean they would fit, or be comfortable. She found a lacy white one that was a style that she generally liked and put it on. There were no jeans, no tee-shirts. Nothing casual really. Clearly she was expected to wear dresses.

Most were silk, satin or chiffon. Any of them would work for a lyrical dance or even something more contemporary. She found a dress in a blue that she knew would set off her eyes. It had an empire waist and fluttery short sleeves. She pulled it on and looked at herself in the mirror. She had to admit, she felt like a princess in it.

Jennifer sat at the makeup mirror and applied some blush, lipstick and a swipe of mascara. She really wasn't that big on makeup unless she was performing. Lastly, she looked at the shoes and made a face. They all looked like fuck-me heels. That thought made her stop and feel sick to her stomach. She sat down and put her head between her knees had a minor panic attack. When was someone going to come and rescue her?

She went back to the shoes and put on a pair of black ballet slippers. If she was going to be dancing in them, they would need to be broken in. No toe shoes though. She expected the man didn't care for pointe.

Jennifer debated just sitting in the room and waiting for Abdul to come in for her. Would that could as an infraction fo the rules? She didn't think she was ready to try and push things. The memory of the box was still too fresh, that and there was an implication that worse punishments awaited her for non-compliance. She swallowed and tried the main door. Locked. Why was she surprised at that? She knocked at the door. "I'm ready."

 

[saedo]

Kadar flipped through the reports as he headed home. The Bentley's suspension did a good job of smoothing out the bumps in the dusty road, so Kadar paid little mind to the trip as his driver navigated him out of the city. It had been another long day.

Still, at least he had something to look forward to. Abdul's report on her day indicated Jennifer seemed to be accepting her new situation. He had devoted most of the second floor to her, providing her with almost all the essentials of a well-furnished apartment for her use. Abdul had even observed as she made use of the athletic equipment that Kadar kept on hand. While she might not yet accept this as her new home, she was at least starting to adapt.

This was good, because Kadar's resistance to her temptation was wearing thin. He liked his women complacent; he'd rather spend his energies on his own pleasure rather than exert himself imposing punishment. Had he the fortitude, he'd have held out another week to give Jennifer further training.

But his own libido had gone unfulfilled far too long as it was. The mere thought of her voluptuous curves sent a stiffening desire into his loins. No, he would not withhold such delight from himself any longer. Tonight, she would dance for him and afterwards he would have his way with her. If she submitted, so much the better. If not, well, then he would teach her further the folly of disobedience.

 

[haremfaery]

Jennifer spent the day feeling confused. If she hadn't spent a day in a metal box and a night on a concrete floor just off her very extravagant bedroom--at least she thought it was to be her bedroom--she might actually have enjoyed her day. Instead she spent it trying to go through the motions of normalcy but she had a sick feeling in her stomach, a tension between her shoulders. Even when she was not being watched, she felt that she was.

She used the top-of-the-line workout equipment in a room that had a wall of mirrors and an actual dance floor at one end. It might have been a dream come true, but it simply cemented the fact that someone planned for her to be here for a very long time.

Abdul was no help at all. he barely spoke. She still had no idea what sort of dance to do for the man when he showed up. Abdul would not even tell her the man's name.

Deep down she had a cold fear that she knew _exactly_ what the man wanted from her, and an even bigger fear that she was never going to be rescued. She pushed that thought down hard. This had to be a misunderstanding. This guy was some super-rich eccentric Saudi prince who wanted some pretty girl to dance for him, then he would pay her a lot of money and send her back to Paris on his private jet. She clung to that version of things whenever other thoughts started to intrude, and lost herself in concentrating on her workout. Clearly the man wanted her to stay in shape, when he wasn't trying to kill her by keeping her in a tin box all day.

After lunch, Jennifer stretched at the barre and found some music. She still had no idea of what sort of dancing the man expected. What if she picked something he didn't like? It was also creepy to have Abdul hanging around all the time. She put on some music and danced. She tried to gauge Abdul's reaction, but he might as well been cut from stone.

She used a towel to wipe sweat off her face and neck. "Do you think" what was she supposed to call this guy anyway? "Your boss will like that sort of dance, or is he more of a classical ballet type? And while we're on the subject, just what am I supposed to call him? I don't think 'Yo Dude' is going to cut it." Of course Abdul wouldn't even crack a smile. Probably had an operation to cut out any humor he might have had.

Abdul looked at his watch, "Dress for dinner now." He was not going to tell her Kadar's name. he would not presume to know how Kadar wished to be addressed by her. It was not his place to say.

She followed him back to her room. He opened the door for her, "I wait here." She stripped off her sweat soaked leotard and padded into the bathroom. She filled the tub and turned on the jets. She relaxed for awhile then turned off the jets and got out. She went to the shower and began to wash. She looked at her pubic hair. A landing strip. Ew, it just looked tacky. How was she supposed to maintain this? Were they going to bring in someone to take care of it? Normally she just used scissors and trimmed it herself and got a bikini wax every now and then so no strays showed in her leotard. She wondered, not for the first time, when this had been done to her. She shaved her legs and her underarms then washed her hair.

Jennifer left her room to go across the hall with a towel wrapped around her. "This is silly. I need to go to the dressing room and find something to wear." She said to the ever-present Abdul. Maybe she should bring some clothes into her room and leave them there. 'Her room.' She hadn't been here a day and she was calling it her room. It took her a long time to decide on a dress. Everything seemed chosen to be sexy and revealing. Showing up in sweats was probably a bad idea. She chose a blue dress that would bring out her eyes. It was one she could dance in with an empire waist and floaty chiffon layers that came nearly to her knees. The neckline showed a lot of cleavage, but all the dresses seemed to be that way. She found a black satin bra and matching bikini panties. They would have to do. She stayed bare legged and stepped into a pair of leather pumps that were soft as butter and surprisingly comfortable for high heels. She spent little time on her hair and makeup, she just wasn't that sort of girl. Besides her hair looked best if she blew it out just a little and let it air dry into its natural waves.

She walked into the hall. "This is ridiculous, you know. I can't _go_ anywhere. I should at least be able to have the run of this floor without you hanging around." She complained to Abdul. Not that he would say anything.

"Dinner now. You are late."

"Then you should have told me what time to be ready." She sniffed. She followed Abdul down the hall to the stairs.

((Here's a dance that Jennifer practiced: and [URL="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YutJVYSNMEE"]another I hate that she has a black leotard on under the blue one.))

((I'm putting these up now because I have time to hunt for videos. If Kadar sees the other dances and asks for something sexier, Jennifer will do this unfortunately, this girl doesn't have Jennifer's body.))

((I think we also talked about Jennifer knowing a little belly dancing, since she loves to dance I'm sure she has taken all sorts of dance classes, but I don't think her first response would be to belly dance for Kadar. he can tell her and provide costume(s) if that's what he wants.))