CHAPTER SEVEN
Rescue and Return
It wasn’t the first time I have been unwillingly stripped naked in public. At least this time I didn’t have a gun or two pointed at me and I didn’t have to do it myself. Andre` had returned to the platform. He picked up my shirt from where the eunuchs had thrown it and pulled the pen from the pocket. Then he walked over to stand in front of me holding the pen almost against my chest.
“I assume this is one of your signature needle guns,” he said in a mocking voice. “Is it a knock-out dose or does it perhaps contain a kill shot?”
He pressed it directly onto the front of my chest and said, “Shall we try it out?”
Firing one of my needle pens usually requires twisting the top all the way to the left, then all the way to the right to arm it, and then pressing the plunger three times to fire it. You can preset everything up to the final click if you think you are going to need it in a hurry. Andre` laughed slowly and deeply as he went through all the required motions. He had to pull the pen slightly back from my skin in order to click the plunger the three times.
A slight look of shock appeared on his face when all that happened was the writing tip of a ballpoint pen appeared three times as he pressed the top. He furiously unscrewed the pen and then threw the parts down on the floor of the platform.
“You pathetic excuse for a man,” he snarled angrily. “You walked into what you knew was a trap and you brought no weapons... not your Glocks... not your knife... not even your needle pen.”
He then stalked away to stand behind the general as the eunuchs carried me down the front steps of the platform. I struggled weakly against them. I really wanted to knock them on their ass, but a man who had been drugged as I had supposedly been would be able to do no more than struggle weakly against the combined strength of the eunuchs.
The soldiers had brought a small platform out and placed it on the ground directly in front of the general. There was a thick pad of some sort which covered the entire top of the platform. The eunuchs threw me into the middle of the pad where I crumpled face up. Then they went to get Tatiana.
She was naked and slightly sweaty, but it didn’t appear that she had been beaten. Maybe she had been beaten, but with her deep black skin it was hard for a white man like me to discern the bruises. In any case, she stood next to me defiantly staring at the general.
“So, Malagasy woman,” he said with a sneer, “do you think you are woman enough to make a man out of Mister W today?” He looked out toward the gate and then said, “Or do we have to beat him until he gets a hard on out of fear like we did with Mister Bricker?”
“Tat,” I said weakly. She looked down at me and I croaked out, “It’s important.”
She knelt next to me and set her ear down next to my mouth.
“I’m faking it,” I said very softly. “I didn’t drink the wine.”
Her eyes widened, but she showed no other response.
“I have a needle gun and a beacon,” I continued. “The attack group will be here seven minutes after the beacon is pressed. But we must capture the general. And you have to have be close enough to hit him in the chest with the needle gun. It self-activates on impact. Just hit him in the chest with it.”
“Get on with it!” a voice yelled from the platform. It wasn’t the general, I thought it was Andre`.
Tat stood up and said, “He’s telling me how he could never fuck me even if you hadn’t drugged him,” she called out. “But give me a minute and I will get him up and ready.”
Tat didn’t ask where the beacon and needle gun were. She was a pro who knew where such things could be hidden for an operation like this. I was naked. There was only one place they could be. She swung around and straddled my face with her legs. I’ve been in this position before, but usually there is not an audience, and there is the strong smell of an aroused woman. Tatiana was not aroused. She was totally dry and there was almost no woman smell.
She leaned over and began rubbing my stomach and my legs. Then she bent over and took my prick into her mouth. That was not helping me stay flaccid, but she knew that. She knew that I was going to get hard regardless of what she did, so she was hiding my erection from the general by keeping my prick in her mouth. She began more frantically rubbing the insides of my legs and my ass. One hand slipped between my asscheeks while the other continued rubbing and rubbing.
Luckily Tat was not bobbing on my prick because a man can only withstand so much. Her forcing two fingers into my ass also helped keep things in check. Then I felt her pulling the small capsule out of me. Both hands were now deep between my legs. I couldn’t tell what she was doing, but she wasn’t rubbing my leg and her fingers weren’t in my ass. Hopefully, it looked to those on the platform like she was playing with my balls.
Then I felt something pushing against my rosebud. I hadn’t told her that the beacon would work “in situ” as they called it, but evidently she knew it would. She must have opened the case, triggered the beacon, and then put everything except the needle gun back inside me.
“Time for a little dramatic display,” she said softly. Her words were muffled from speaking around my prick. “When I pull my mouth off of you,” she continued, “I want you to spurt high up in the air.”
Sometimes it is nice to work with a real professional spy. This wasn’t one of those times. She needed to get to the general, and there was only one way that was going to happen. She had to taunt the general into coming to her. And as part of her plan, I was going to ejaculate in public on command like a common slave.
I’ve done worse. But this is definitely on the list for the top ten... or bottom ten, however you want to phrase it.
Tat began working with her tongue as she bobbed up and down. Even if she had not told me I had to cum on cue, I wouldn’t have been able to help it. She knew how to press a man’s buttons and where those buttons were. A few moments later she went upright on her knees gasping for air. She bent way back as if needing to gulp in air and pressed her ass against my face. Strangely, this time there was the smell of woman. She had me so close that her smell was all it took to take me over the edge. I spurted high into the air in front of her.
I could hear the general laughing. “Didn’t you understand what you were supposed to do, Malagasy woman?” the general said mockingly. “You were supposed to fuck him, not jack him off with your mouth.”
Looking between Tat’s legs I could see the general coming down from the platform.
“I am sure that Mr W, in his drugged state,” he was saying as he walked, “had only one in him, so... I guess I will have to fuck you.” He laughed and said, “But I have much more than one in me and will enjoy all of your openings.”
One of the eunuchs reached up and rolled me off of the padded platform. I dropped to the ground on my side and lay there as if in a stupor. There was nothing else I could do now. It was up to Tat to keep the general occupied for the seven minutes it would take for the assault/rescue team to arrive.
I could see the general step up onto the padded platform. Tat was more or less sitting facing him. “How do you want me?” she said flatly. Her voice sounded oddly distorted.
“Let’s start with your cunt, Malagasy woman,” the general said as he pushed her legs apart and then forced her back flat on the mat. She truly was a beautiful woman, but I doubt the general saw her as that. His repeated phrase, “Malagasy woman,” clearly showed he thought she was from an inferior tribe or area of Africa. All he could see was a cunt, ass, and mouth that would satisfy his needs.
He opened his zipper and pulled out his prick. It was flaccid, but was quickly coming up to hard.
“I expect you to respond like a proper Malagasy slut,” he said harshly as he knelt between her legs. Then he reached down and fingered her cunt.
“Not wet,” he said derisively, “but not totally dry.” He smiled at her and said, “That’s good, because I like things a little dry. It gives more grip on my prick.”
He then pushed into Tat and began thrusting. She lay there for a moment and then began matching his thrusts. It was only a couple of minutes until he groaned slightly and pushed heavily into her.
Almost immediately, he pulled out and said harshly, “Ass!”
Tat sat back up and reached down to scoop some of the cum from her cunt. She rolled over onto her hands and knees and reached back with one hand to smear the slickness onto and into her rosebud.
The general laughed and then said, “That’s enough.”
He did have a very short recovery time. He was already back to hard, or at least hard enough to try to push into her ass. He grabbed her hips and began thrusting. Again Tat waited for just a moment and then began pushing back at him to meet his thrusts.
“You are a true slut,” the general said with a smile just before he groaned and pushed her down onto the mat. He lay on top of her for a moment and then pushed himself back up to his knees.
“Now you can clean me off with your mouth,” the general said, laughing.
Tat got back onto her hands and knees facing him. She moved forward as if to suck his cock, but instead bent down coughing loudly into her hands as if trying to throw up... or not throw up. I saw something about the size of a short pen slide out of her mouth and into her hands.
“If you stain my pants,” the general said harshly, “I will have you whipped to death.”
In response, Tat raised quickly up on her knees and swung her right fist toward his chest. For a fat man, the general’s reactions were very fast, however, and he caught her fist with both of his hands.
He held her hand high and said with a sneer, “What do you say now, Malagasy woman?”
Tat looked directly into his eyes and said firmly, “I’m left-handed.”
The general’s eyes widened as her left fist slammed into his chest. He released her right hand and grabbed for her, but she moved sideways and let him fall face first onto the mat.
I jumped up onto the mat and pulled the general’s pistol from its holster. It was old... a WWII era Colt 45 automatic, but I was sure it was in good order. I clicked off the safety and pointed it at one of the eunuchs who was running toward us. Then I said loudly, “Your general is dead. Do you want to die for a dead man?”
The general was just unconscious, but the eunuch couldn’t know that. He stopped running and started walking slowly toward me. I was hoping I wouldn’t have to shoot him. It wasn’t that I liked him or anything, but once anyone starts shooting in a situation like this, all hell could break loose.
He was just about at the point where I would have to shoot or run when the whole area turned to extremely bright daylight and the soft “whup, whup, whup,” of stealth helicopters filled the air.
One of them must have been a gunship because a stream of bullets thudded into the ground directly in front of the big platform with the general’s throne on it. Several loudspeakers began blaring in at least four different languages. I recognized French and I could understand the English. One of the other languages was probably Swahili. God knows what the fourth one was.
They were saying, “If you leave you will live. We only want the general. If you fight you will die.” It was evidently a recording on a repeat loop because it continued the same words at exactly the same pace. The wording was perfect. “If you leave you will live,” means get the hell out of here, we won’t stop you as you escape. “We only want the general,” means we will leave with him and not go after you. “If you fight you will die,” means exactly that.
Most of the soldiers began running back into the relative darkness of the compound. A few soldiers, evidently roused by the commotion, came rushing to the open area from one of the buildings deeper in the compound, but the gunship... or gunships... drew a clear line across the ground in front of them with a mini Gatling and they stopped where they were. After the warning tape cycled once or twice, they too melted back into the darkness.
Almost everyone on the big platform around the general’s throne was standing stiffly looking out at the fallen general. One figure, however, bolted off the side of the platform and ran toward the edge of the compound. It was Andre`. I really wanted that bastard, but there was no way I could risk leaving the general unguarded. A helicopter landed in the open area and a small squad of troops rushed out. Whoever was in command yelled out, “Get the general and any captives.”
He held up a small radio and said something while pointing toward the gate. A second helicopter landed outside the gate and began freeing those captives.
You don’t realize how silent a stealth helicopter is until a regular helicopter takes to the air. The loud engine and rotor noise of the helicopter rising out of the dust caught everyone’s attention. It was Andre` trying to make his escape.
He should have known better, but either he panicked or he wasn’t very bright or both. A bright streak of light flashed from one of the stealth helicopters and Andre`’s craft exploded in the air creating a bright ball of light that illuminated three other copters sitting at the edge of the compound. One of the gunships moved over slightly and soon there was nothing left on the ground but wreckage.
“Time to go,” the officer said to me as two of his men picked up the unconscious general and carried him toward the open doors of the copter. Tat and I and little D walked under our own power. Once inside, someone gave Tat and Denise a blanket to cover themselves. I got a smaller hunk of cloth that I wrapped around my middle.
As soon as we were in the air, I requested the use of a satellite phone and called Master Tyrone, the head of The Society’s Council. “Master Tyrone,” I said quickly, “rescue was successful, but we have thirty-six African pleasure slaves with us that we weren’t expecting. Whether they were sold or captured, they will never be accepted if they try to return to their villages. So, they will need some special care and assistance to adapt to a new life somewhere. Would you please contact Mistress Ramala and get her to London? She is native African and speaks Swahili along with several other African and European languages.”
Master Tyrone laughed and replied, “Mistress Ramala is already here in London. She is again living up to her name as Predictor of the Future. She said you would be coming soon with guests and that she would need at least ten hotel rooms for herself and what she called ‘the dancing girls.’ She also asked me to get in touch with Master and Mistress Renault in Las Vegas. Something about a fabulous new act for their casino.”
“Sounds like everything is in good hands,” I said, matching his laugh. “I will file a full report when we get to London.”
Two hours later we landed at the Juba Airport in South Sudan. Juba is not the safest place in the world, either, but evidently the various warring factions there decided it was worth setting aside their differences for a short while to help bring down the Divine General Agua Amin. I would not doubt that a sufficient amount of money also changed hands to facilitate the negotiations.
There was a huge US Air Force C5M sitting on the edge of the runway. Support crews quickly folded the rotors and pushed the helicopters aboard. There were also two charter jets for personnel. I was still a little worried about our safety, but as we boarded the plane, I noticed two fighter-bombers flying low circles around the airport. There were probably more of them at higher altitudes. Our takeoff and flight back to England was uneventful.
I sat next to Little D for the flight. Someone had gotten her– and me– some clothes. “Thank you, Uncle W,” she said softly after the plane was in the air. She looked around and added, “To think all of this just to rescue me.”
“It wasn’t just to rescue you,” I said. “I would have done that somehow regardless, but your rescue was possible because the general had thumbed his nose at too many rich and important people from too many important countries.”
“Oh,” she said softly and curled up against her pillow. I let her stare out the window for a long while and then asked, “Did you find out what you wanted to know?”
She turned very red and stammered back, “I think so.”
“There is no need to be ashamed, Little D,” I said softly. “If that is what you are, that is what you are.”
“When they broke into my room,” she said, not looking at me, “they tied me up with these big belts and put me up against my door to take my picture. I should have been afraid... and I was. But I was also very turned on. My legs were wet from... from me.”
“I know,” I answered. “I saw it in the picture.”
“Then when they got me to that place,” she continued, “that fat old general was going to fuck me, but one of the big men told him I was a virgin.”
“Are you?” I asked, “or did he lie?” I knew I was pushing things a little, but it might be important for... her future.
“He didn’t lie,” she answered, “I’ve never had anything in there... not a tampon... not a vibrator... not even my fingers.” Her voice became very flat. “It’s like it’s there, and it feels nice if I rub my button, but nothing really happens. ... Unless I spank myself or put clothespins on my nipples or use mom’s TENS machine set on strong pulses as I rub it. Then I get off.”
She looked up at me with wide and fearful eyes, “I’m a freak, aren’t I?”
“No,” I said, “you’re not a freak. Your pleasure and pain circuits are just wired differently than most people’s.”
“He spanked me,” she said softly.
“Who?”
“The fat general,” she replied. “When they told him I was a virgin, he said, ‘Then we will treat her like the baby that she is.’ I think he wanted to send a video of him fucking me to my parents, but since I’m a virgin, he instead decided to send one of him spanking me.”
“Did he send it?”
“I don’t know,” she wailed. “He expected me to cry or something, but I didn’t... I didn’t. Instead I had the most powerful orgasm I have ever had in my life. After I calmed down a little, he pushed me off his lap and I collapsed down on my knees in front of him. I was crying and trying to hide my face. He looked down at me and smiled that really evil smile of his and said, ‘Well, well, well, a virgin painslut. What a marvelous price you will bring at my auction.”
She started crying. “I am so ashamed,” she said. “I should have been yelling at him or something, but instead I almost had another orgasm at the thought of someone owning me... and maybe whipping me... and fucking me.”
“Little D,” I said, stroking her hair, “your parents will understand.”
“How can they?” she said, her eyes widening. “I am what the general said I am, I’m a painslut. Pain turns me on.”
“Your mother is a Dominant,” I said, “And your father is a submissive. He may even have some pain-pleasure issues of his own.”
“Are there a lot of painsluts?” she asked. She was now looking like the inquisitive Little D that I remembered.
“Not a lot,” I answered, “but many.” I ruffled her hair slightly and said, “And the trick is to find a masterful man... or woman... who will love the painslut for who she... or he... is in addition to being a painslut. Then the Master or Mistress will have a mutual relationship where the slave will be treated properly and not used up or destroyed.”
“How can that happen?” she asked.
I laughed slightly and said, “I need to have a heart to heart talk with my little sister. I think it is time that Mistress Laney and teddybear... and you... joined The Society.”
“You also need to have a heart to heart talk with me,” a pleasant voice said from the aisle. Tat was standing there looking down at both of us.
“I will call you at your hotel after we get to London,” she continued. “I want to thank you personally for rescuing me.”
“That really isn’t necessary,” I said quietly.
“And it wasn’t necessary that you treated me with respect at Finn’s club,” she replied. “Nor was it necessary for you to have me be the one who needled the general.”
“That was necessary,” I said firmly.
“You could have waited and needled him in the back or in his ass or wherever,” she said almost angrily. “I didn’t have to do it.”
“Yes, you did,” I replied softly.
She looked shocked for a moment and then smiled and said, “Maybe I did. It did feel really good to jam that device against his chest.” She smiled at me and continued, “He was an arrogant, racist bastard. That was the first time I have ever encountered black on black racism.”
“But you defeated him,” I said.
“You are a very strange man, W,” she said, looking into my eyes. “I really would like to have a heart to heart talk with you... and maybe a little more than that.”
“Call me,” I said, smiling back at her.
As she walked back up the aisle, Little D leaned over to me and said, “You both have that look. Maybe that’s why you are attracted to each other.”
“What look?” I asked and she laughed slightly. “That look,” she said firmly. “I was told that Andre` was the only casualty in the raid, but I saw you standing there. You were ready to kill and so was Tat. It’s inside you. It’s what you are. And you have to work all of the time to control it.”
“Are you talking to me or to yourself,” I asked firmly.
“Both,” little D replied with a shrug and a smile. “We are both what we are, and we both have to live with that as best we can.”