Foreign Affair Ch. 01

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Collateral affections in kidnap and ransom.
3.8k words
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Part 1 of the 2 part series

Updated 09/22/2022
Created 09/23/2009
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She was awakened by the muffled sounds of men shouting, dull thuds, and the slamming of doors through the walls of her hotel room. She lay still, eyes wide open, straining to discern from beyond which wall, specifically, the noises were emanating. She sat up in bed. She could hear them out in the hallway now. It only took a few seconds for the young American to wrap her mind around what was taking place. She leapt out of bed, bolting for the window. Her room was situated on the ground floor of a small hotel in what the locals would consider a less than desirable part of town, and she was dismayed to find that for security purposes the window was barred from the outside in such a way that not even her narrow frame would be able to squeeze through. She heard the pounding of some blunt object against her own door. She dove under the bed just as it swung open with a violent crack. The lights went on and she watched, terrified, as a pair of military issue boots strode into the room.

She felt sure, even with the chaotic din taking place in the hall, he would be able to hear her breathing, but it wasn't so. He first went in the bathroom, and she heard the grating of metal on metal as he whipped aside the shower curtain. He flung open the closet before stalking toward the bed, throwing the covers off onto the floor. The boots stood still a moment, barely a foot from her face. Her heart stopped as five long fingers curled under the bed frame. Everything started happening in slow motion. His grasp tightened against the frame as the man dropped to one knee. The washed out green material of his uniform was worn particularly thin where it made contact with the hard wood. She experienced the moment with mesmerizing clarity, her heightened sense of awareness the product of utter terror. When his face finally came into view, peering through the incomplete darkness of her hiding place, she was unprepared for the sight of him. He was young, much younger than she had expected from his commanding gait and work worn fingers. He was lean and dark with a strong jawline. Curls of dark brown hair fell over his forehead and ears. Her body was seized by a momentary paralysis, and she stared helplessly into his deep green eyes as they flashed with surprise.

When he found her under the bed, it was unlike anything he had ever experienced before. He stared back at her, dumbfounded. Her thin, athletic body lay taut on the floor, braced with panic and anticipation. Her blond hair was particularly foreign to him, and even though he had been briefed for this operation with pictures of all the targets, her dark brown eyes wielded a strange power he was entirely unfamiliar with. His whole body flushed hotly with desire. He was still kneeling by the bed when the others rushed it. He stood up, dazedly looking on as one of the men ran around the bed and dragged her out from under by her ankles, another forced a rag over her mouth. Her struggling subsided, and she was unconscious within seconds.

She sat before them in nothing but a short satin nightgown, a modest cotton bra, and thin cotton panties. She laid her cuffed hands in her lap and shivered uncontrollably, hoping this kidnapping would come with some explanation. She had been appointed to international affairs when she first joined the Company, and had been there long enough to understand the dangers of her position. Some of her coworkers had kidnapping stories of their own. So, although there was cause for alarm, everything she had heard about that possibility in this country was benign, a moderate inconvenience. Kidnapping had, in fact, become quite lucrative for organizations pushing some radical religious and/or political agenda. The Company, like many other multi-national corporations, was well insured and the transaction had become so commonplace as to be considered, "business as usual." Still, the entire situation up to this point had been more than just a little unnerving.

When they removed her blindfold she looked around to see a dimly lit room with a desk upon which sat a large black phone. A number of outdated computers were positioned against the wall in the back with innumerous colored cords running from them to various other instrumentation around the room and eventually into the walls. There were three men at the desk in military uniform. The one in the middle addressed her by name.

"Caitlyn Riley," he declared. They wore the uniforms of local military officials but the patching was different. Rebels, she determined. The Rebel Army had been seeking a theocratic overhaul of the National Government for over 50 years, but it was only in the past decade that they had gained any political favor. Over the past 5 years they had grown increasingly radical in their ideology and method. They entered into the kidnapping trade out of necessity a couple years ago to fund a modest increase in following and remain a competitive faction in the abundant pool of illegally operating separatist communities.

"Age: 24..." He was reading allowed.

"You go by Katie. Originally from Telluride, Colorado. You are currently a resident of Boston, Massachusetts. No immediate family, and you have been in the employ of the Company for almost 4 years."

She began to speak, stuttering, trying to affirm the information and question everything that was taking place simultaneously. He saved the silly American from an exercise in futility, cutting her off as he continued.

"We have already made contact with the appropriate personnel at the Company and will be in negotiations for your return within the next few days. We require that you abide by certain protocol while you are with us. Firstly, you will be blindfolded and accompanied by at least one guard during transport at all times. Transport primarily occurs between your housing to the mess hall, showers, or negotiations compound, where the accompanying guard will remove the blindfold at the appropriate time. At no point are you under any circumstances to remove the blindfold. Any attempt to remove your blindfold will be considered a security breach, a volitional intent to compromise our location, and is quite punishable, in a variety of ways..."

Katie nodded mechanically. She was still feeling the effects of anesthesia, and had gone into shock besides. She was no longer processing any of the information being given. He went on through a number of other rules before conferring briefly with the other two men at the table in a language native to the region and entirely foreign to her. He then began to bark orders at a number of other men present in the room. Katie turned around to see four other men standing at the door behind her. She had barely recognized this fact before her line of sight fell on the bizarrely magnetic green eyes of the young soldier from her hotel room.

"Riley!"

The man at the desk was shouting at her. She wheeled back around in her chair.

"I warn you, girl, do not forget your place here."

He then looked beyond her to one of the soldiers near the door.

"Malik."

She tried to be as compliant as possible with whichever one of the guards it was that stepped up behind her and roughly tied the blindfold over her eyes. She felt a large hand grab her by the arm and she was ushered hastily out of the room. When they reached the outside she could feel the night air and wondered how much time had passed since her abduction. He walked at her side, guiding her forcefully by the arm at first. They had gone some distance down an incline before his hand slipped to her wrist and held her softly as they continued down the path. When she tripped forward over a branch he caught her in his arms, and held her there for a moment. His face was close to hers, she could tell by the warmth of his breath against her cheek. She could feel the powerful rising and falling of his chest. He set her back on her feet and they continued on. It was not a long walk. When the surface under her feet became cold and hard, they stopped. She heard a metal door shut and the blindfold was quickly yanked off her. It was dark and her eyes had not yet adjusted as she saw the form of a man on the opposite side of a barred door walk through a gate, shutting it behind himself.

Slowly, she was able to make out certain details. She was in a small cement room. The only features therein appeared to be a narrow cot in one corner adjacent to a small stand on which sat a basin of water and in the other corner, a covered metal pail. She wrinkled her nose. She looked back towards the door. It was barred, and beyond that a wooden fence blocked out any sight of their encampment. She grasped the bars and rattled them once. Shaking her head, she flopped back on the little cot. She was still drowsy from the chloroform and it didn't take long for sleep to come.

When she woke it was light out, but still early she surmised, for the pale color of the sky and the damp cool air were characteristic of morning. She spent the day in a frustrated tedium, exploring every inch of the cell, listening to the birds, the wind through trees, and the far off voices of men. Though her view was obstructed by the fence, the diverse variety of natural calls resounding within her hovel made it quite certain that the Rebels had occupied one of the abandoned monasteries outside the city. The hill country surrounding most of the major cities was speckled with communities of this kind, but many had been vacated in the 1950's during the Occupation.

The day seemed endless. By the end of the afternoon she resigned herself to the cot. She lay on her back, staring up at the bleak gray ceiling. It wasn't long before her thoughts turned to the green-eyed soldier. Her little dress was bunched up just below her breasts. She ran her fingers idly from her belly button to her rib cage and back. She wondered if he liked her appearance. She hadn't considered until just then how much she took for granted the modern American conveniences that made her body so desirable. Her hand slid down under the lacey elastic of her panties to feel the thin strip of soft hair just above her clitoris, and then further...

It was already getting dark by the time someone came for her. She stood up and went to the door when she heard the latch on the gate rattle. A soldier she had never seen before entered and instructed her in very poor English to turn around with her back against the bars. He blindfolded her, unlocked the door and guided her out. They took the same path as last night she thought. The soldier kept a brisk pace. When the blindfold was removed she found herself exactly where she had been before, sitting in the chair like before, only this time the man who had addressed her previously sat at the table with one other man. They were eating dinner. Katie was quite enthused to find a plate had been prepared for her as well. She made her approach tenuously at first, but the men continued with their conversation without acknowledging her efforts, so she relaxed and ate. It was only after the table had been cleared that the two men finally turned their attentions toward the apprehensive little female seated before them.

"You will become fairly familiar with this room, Ms. Riley," said the man who had spoken to her before.

"This is our negotiations compound. Captives are brought here for identification, appraisal, and initiation into the system, which is what you were doing here last night, as well as certain key time points during the exchange process."

He then added wryly, " In this case, we simply enjoy the company of certain detainees more than others..."

He chuckled and glanced toward the other man, seeking affirmation, it appeared. Katie restrained any indication of her disgust from affecting her expression. She knew that the soldiers in the Rebel Army were mostly fundamentalists of a religion that forbade pre/extra-marital sex, but in the chaos of terrorist warfare, what rules, if any, still applied? The other man at the table must have sensed this concern.

"As an insured affiliate of the Company in international affairs you are a unique asset to our interests. A high priority case, if you will."

She was appreciative of his reassuring tone. His name was Geraud, she soon learned, and though he was much older than any of the others, he was on point. The nature of his discourse as well as his mannerisms gave her the impression that he was a shrewd businessman more than a militant extremist.

"We are in communication with not only the Company's insurance provider, but also the U.S. government. Needless to say you are to be privileged with an expedited transaction. Your cooperation throughout the preparation stage and during the exchange will ensure a safe and rapid return to your home country."

The conversation continued for another half hour, though she didn't say much. Finally, they called for Malik. Katie turned to catch a glimpse of the man who had handled her so provocatively the night before (hoping he had green eyes...), but no such luck. The blindfold was on and she was whisked out of the room.

It had cooled off outside, but the day's heat still radiated from the ground. Katie was becoming familiar with the circuit and kept her footing without difficulty as they descended the hill. As his hold on her arm gradually softened, she felt goose bumps emerging over her entire body. She wanted so badly for him to be the soldier from the hotel, but there was no way of knowing. She almost spoke to him, but stopped. She had only been there a day, two maybe, and already she was getting in too deep. She needed to snap out of it. She thought about everything Geraud had said. This is a business transaction, she told herself. Be objective.

This is business he kept telling himself, over and over again in his head. His emotions had been getting the best of him from the start. He felt her influence over him even as she lay unconscious in the truck bed, anesthetized for transport back to the encampment. The other men looked away, heeding the ancient discipline. The scripture warned of the exotic nature of temptation. Within such a seductive form flows the blood of an infidel. He had been indoctrinated with the same beliefs, and though they were all guilty of violating certain of the more esoteric codes (physically pleasuring oneself being chief among those), and more than a few of the other guards had boasted of sexual exploits with captives, the spiritual consequences of associating with a foreign demon of this kind were calamitous. He knew this, and yet none of it mattered any more. With his hand on her arm and the lights of the main building fading into the background, he allowed himself to experience the sensations she stirred within him. He felt possessed and released all at once. The pale blue satin of her nightgown, illuminated by moonlight, acted like a beacon. She walked onward, and he followed. They had nearly reached her one-room hold when his internal conflict resolved itself. He would take charge of his own fate, and hers.

She felt the cold cement beneath her feet before she heard the sound of the gate behind them. Katie began to recognize that he was guiding her further into the cell than before. Her instincts and apprehension caused her hesitate, but he kept moving, walking right into her from behind. Their bodies were flush against one another. Katie froze. A chill ran down her spine as she felt the substantial bulk of his erection pushing firmly into the small of her back. He backed away from her, and her mind raced with the possibility and likelihood of what would happen next.

She was frantically weighing her options for escape, compliance, or dissuasion as the guard, Malik they had called him, grasped a warm hand around the back of her left thigh and lifted her knee up onto the thinly padded cot in the back corner of the room. He stood behind Katie, pressing up against her lightly. There in the small dark cell on the outskirts of their encampment he heard nothing but the sound of her breathing. He placed his left hand high on her chest, and felt her heart bounding within her. His mind, too, was flooded with thoughts of what would happen next. In the few years Malik had been with the Rebels, he had never felt such an infatuation with any of the captives. Back in the city, before it became necessary for the resistance to relocate, they were taken to clubs where female dancers and even a few waitresses could be taken into backrooms and pleasured before an audience of men. Despite the strict religious covenant that bound the Rebel contingency to their cause, masturbatory acts had become, out of both necessity and desperation, the single tolerated form of sexual release outside of the marital and procreative. It was a rite of passage as well as a scandalous source of entertainment for the men that he and the other young soldiers were obliged to take part in, eating out some slattern with ruined prospects until she screamed just as they had witnessed the older, more experienced men do. His faith precluded him from satiating his own desires within the body of a woman, and never before had he resorted to forcing himself on anyone. Something happened to him in the moment Malik set eyes on the beautiful confident American girl. He needed to have her. He wanted to satisfy her. He even began to imagine what she might do to him, what he could make her do...

With his right hand, he felt his way down her torso, pausing briefly at the spine of her pelvis before trailing along her panties with his fingers.

"Please," she spoke quietly, her voice shaking, "don't..."

Malik turned his face to hers as he spoke. His lips grazed her cheek, and his breath was hot against her skin

"I'm not going to hurt you," he whispered as his eyes wandered from her face down the length of her body. Though she was still blindfolded, Katie closed her eyes, straining to make the most of her other senses. His voice was low and rough, but his accent was unlike the men at the table, and he had to be young, as young as her, maybe. He smelled of the negotiations compound, the strong musky odor must have been characteristic of all the soldiers, but when she inhaled, with his face so close to hers, their bodies responding to one another, she smelled something desirable, even erotic. He ran his fingers over the fabric, following her body. The thin cotton distended easily where it had been saturated, allowing his middle finger to travel further into her than the rest.

"I want to know more about you."

He pulled aside her panties with his left hand as he said this, allowing the right to continue his exploration between the folds of her labia. He led primarily with his middle and index fingers, rubbing gently against the base of her clit in slow circles. He began working his way down towards the opening of her vagina until he felt lubricating fluids wet the tips of his fingers. He applied more pressure to the rhythmic circulation of his movements, which seemed to dissolve a great deal of the tension that had gripped her body. When he entered her with his fingers, her mouth fell open slightly, and he burned to induce stronger reactions from within her. He felt the infatuation growing. Malik sensed only vaguely how little control he had over himself. He almost removed the blindfold so he could see her eyes.

As she was, still standing on one leg, leaning back against him, his reach into her was limited. He alleviated this inconvenience by hoisting her other leg up onto the cot with his own. He could now thrust his fingers fully inside her while rotating his thumb against her clit. She threw her head back, letting it fall on his shoulder as her face pressed against his, her lips against his cheek. She sank down on her knees, letting her bottom rest on his hard cock which was now pulsing with desire, dampening all the way to the outside of his fatigues with pre-ejaculatory fluid. The intense sensations he stirred within her caused her back to arch uncontrollably. She moaned softly and breathed heavily, grinding against him in ecstasy. Malik barely managed to restrain himself from succumbing to carnal desire. Just the thought of penetrating this tight little American, thrusting his cock into her, and ejaculating inside of her almost sent him over the edge. He was ready to suffer any consequence that might come of unzipping his uniform and letting his cock fall out just far enough to rub the tip against the opening of her vagina or even slide into her if he could make it that far without cumming. He could tell she was reaching her climax as the muscles within her tightened around his wildly pumping fingers, and so he let go of his sinful fantasy turning to kiss her neck, and satisfy ever inch of her body he could influence. His fingers worked furiously, and her body went rigid in orgasm. For the few seconds that her body was suspended in pleasure, Malik knew it would never be enough. He feared what actions he might take in order to quench the ravenous desires building in him.

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