Jon Reskind - The abducted bride

"Yes, I suppose you're right," he admitted, "we can go and take a look, at least that much can't hurt."

"All right then, it's settled. Tonight, young man, you're going to get an education you'll never forget." Monique beamed, chuckling to herself at the double meaning that could be placed on her statement had he known the actual state of things. "Let's go have our dinner, the party starts about midnight."

They entered the door to the villa a little before one o'clock. The dinner had been long and pleasant. Monique had purposely drawn it out to make certain Kevin got enough wine and after dinner drinks to deaden his inhibitions. She didn't want him too alert tonight, particularly in the beginning of the party. Her timing had to be very good to pull this thing off and she couldn't afford to have him get too moralistic on her and want to leave before she could put her little plan into action.

An attendant took their coats at the door and Kevin followed Monique into the large salon. As he adjusted his eyes to the light from the large crystal chandelier hanging from the frescoed ceiling, he could make out a small crowd of people gathered around a bar in the corner. There couldn't have been over twenty or twenty-five in all. It was evident that it was a fairly wealthy group as the men were in black tie and coats and the women, all young voluptuous girls around twenty, were in long evening gowns. Certainly they were not the wives of these men, as they were at least thirty years their juniors in most cases.

Monique led him over to the bar and ordered drinks from the dark appearing bartender. Kevin couldn't place his nationality but it appeared to be Arabic of one form or another. He marveled at his quiet efficiency in handling the group of people without complaint. Some of them had obviously been there for several hours and were beginning to get a little noisy. Kevin could not understand one word of the French and had to content himself with watching their animated gestures with their hands.

"It seems those two are coming to blows in just a moment," he confided to Monique over his drink. He was watching two men violently shaking their fists at each other.

"Oh, no. Not the French, it's just that we use our hands a lot like the Italians," Monique laughed, "they are just discussing whether or not it will rain tomorrow."

He laughed with her, now understanding why he thought he had seen so many "almost" fights in Paris but never the real thing.

"They'll scream and shake their fists until you are certain they are going to kill one another, but I have never seen one yet with the courage to strike," she added. "They will quiet down in a moment when things begin. Just watch."

"Just what exactly is this place," Kevin asked in a low whisper, still not certain he should have come. He would have preferred going back to his hotel and getting some rest for his meeting with his wife. He still needed to build up some courage in spite of Monique's assurance that she would melt like butter into his arms.

"It's a private club," Monique answered in a confidential tone. "The members are all nationalities and just fly in when a special party is being given. It's very exclusive and always has some extremely unique entertainment for them."

"What do you mean by unique?" he asked, his curiosity rising slightly now that he had finished another scotch.

"You'll see, my boy, you'll see before much longer. I guarantee you'll get quite a kick out if." Monique smiled to herself again. She could hardly wait to see this pup taken down a peg or two. Innocence bored her, particularly from those who had it made all their lives.

"Oh, you must meet Gamal," Monique said suddenly, interrupting something else she was going to say. "He's coming now."

Kevin turned his head and saw a short dark fat man approaching them from the center of the room. He disliked him immediately. He looked like just the type to be running a place like this. Kevin's stomach recoiled as Monique introduced them and Gamal pressed his small well manicured hand into his, shaking it like a limp handkerchief. He could smell his thick over-sweet perfume hanging heavily in the air immediately surrounding his presence. It was sickening.

"Welcome to our little get together," Gamal smiled to them. "You could not have picked a better companion. Our little Monique is always welcome here with her friends."

Kevin reached for another drink from the bar as the fat insipid little man took Monique by the arm and squeezed tightly as though he owned her. He felt like pushing his fist straight into his flat oily little nose. He had never met anyone who repulsed him so much at first sight.

"You will be participating in our little games tonight, Mr. Taylor?" Gamal asked with a sly wink, nudging Monique in the ribs at the same time. "We have never had an American here before. I'm certain you would be quite popular with the ladies of the crowd."

"No, I don't think I will," Kevin said, an indignant tone apparent in his voice. "I prefer my love life to remain private."

"Ah yes, a moralist, I see," Gamal said with a subtle mocking smile. "Perhaps you will change your mind later. Now if you will excuse me, may I talk privately with your charming escort for a moment."

"Be my guest," Kevin replied coldly, turning back to the bar. He was beginning to feel his drinks and decided as soon as Monique finished talking with that slime they would get out of here. He didn't like the setup at all and right now had no desire to see a trumped up exhibition with paid actors.

"Your little package arrived a few minutes ago, my dear," Gamal whispered with a delighted smile when they were out of earshot of Kevin. "You have done well, I must say. I will add one hundred dollars to the usual price in reward for your excellent taste."

"My dear Gamal you have not taken a close look at the young lady or you wouldn't even consider such a ridiculous offer. She is worth double the usual price if she is worth a franc. Come, let's go take a quick look at her. I'm certain you have missed a great deal of the quality."

"If you insist, my love," Gamal said with resignation. He knew he was not going to get this voluptuous young thing as cheaply as he had the others, but perhaps with luck, he could keep the price within reasonable bounds.

Monique followed him down the hallway from the salon and into a room that had a guard on the door. Jean was lying fully dressed on the bed, her eyes closed in sleep. Her dress had hiked up over the tops of her stockings and the smooth white flesh was tantalizingly visible up to her panties. She was the absolute picture of helpless innocence. Gamal liked that, Monique could tell. Her battle was almost won.

"Your desk-clerk friend gave her something to make her sleep during the trip here in the car. He says she will awaken in a half an hour or so," Gamal explained as Monique purposely registered concern on her face. She had actually instructed Shalla to give her the light sleeping potion so she would make no great fuss when she was transferred from the hotel. She just hoped that stupid Arab had not given her too much. She had to wake up soon or her plans would be ruined.

"Oh, the poor dear, I do hope they handled her gently. She's so sweet," Monique poured the compliments on, she could tell by the slight beads of perspiration breaking out on Gamal's forehead that he was very eager to get his hot little hands on Jean's young body. It was just a question of the price now and she was ready to put her plan into operation.

"Why don't you strip her down completely, Gamal, you can get a better idea of the true value that way," Monique slyly suggested, certain that he had already lifted the sleeping girls dress and peeked underneath. The slight guilty blush that passed over his face confirmed her suspicions. She smiled to herself in satisfaction. "I'll get us a drink while you are doing it and then we can discuss the final price with all the merchandise laid out before you. Business should be done like that," she smiled sweetly.