Dangerous Places
written by:
Fire Starter

Authors Note:

I wrote this story because I was sick of those 3000 word fuck tales that start of with a guy wanting to fuck and end up with him accomplishing that! In sheer rebellion to this growing trend, I wanted to write an erotic thriller with a complex plot and deep multi-dimensional characters - characters who feel, who think, who have political views, who have political/racial biases, etc. People who are like you and me (not walking talking sex objects that we see in most sex stories). So if you are looking for those short sex stories that promise immediate erection followed by immediate relief then I suggest you skip this one. I also suggest that if you decide to read it then you read it in one go because once you start reading it, it may be hard to break in the middle.

Copyright Issues:

You are free to save, print and distribute as mush as long as you are not making any money from it. If you want to sell it or make money from it in any way, then I would like that you get in touch with me for permissions. Thanks.

DANGEROUS PLACES

Chapter 1:

The airport lobby was busy as usual. Two flights had landed at the same time and passengers of both had to disembark in the same lobby. While Air-America's passengers were waiting in a long cue, KLM passengers were still busy hurling their suitcases off the conveyer belt. The extra security measures after 9/11 dictated that all passengers who even "looked suspicious" were to open their entire luggage for the customs and security officials. Unfortunately no one had specified to the customs or security officials what the word "suspicious looking" was supposed to mean! Thus it was interpreted to mean anyone and everyone of Middle Eastern/ South Asian origin. People with Arabic names or some who just looked Middle Eastern were separated from the rest of the passengers for detailed checks. After undergoing body searches, men and women were made to empty all the contents of their luggage on the desks. From lipsticks, key chains and sealed tissue papers, Security officials carefully examined every single item before finally handing them back to the passengers. If something "suspicious" was discovered, such as verses of the Koran or Arabic literature, the passengers were called to explain what the literature was and why it was being carried. In the post September 11 world these people were the new "niggers" of America.

Outside the lobby, an anxious crowd waited to greet the newly arrived. As the passengers came out dragging their luggage, these relatives rushed with open arms to embrace them. Not far away from where these emotional re-unions were taking place, a man sat silently in a corner reading a newspaper. He was holding the paper in front of him in a way that prevented people from seeking his face. He would often remove the newspaper and gaze at the approaching passengers and then lean back on the chair once again stretching the paper in front of him. Suddenly, the glass door slid open and the blonde airhostess came out trotting in her high heel shoes. Dressed in Air-America uniform, she walked gracefully, dragging a small- wheeled suitcase behind her. Her strides were long and graceful and there was a certain aura of ‘arrogance' in her walk. Yet it was a graceful kind of arrogance, the kind that made men turn their heads in her direction. Just by looking at her one could tell that she was a gym rat - the kind of women you see on fitness magazines. Though not a bodybuilder, she had a visible "tightness" to her figure that could only have come from lifting weights. While most athletic women tend to be flat-chested, this was not the case with this goddess. With high riding breasts that seemed no less then a large C cup, she had the kind of body that would make most men uncomfortable around her.

Leaving the newspaper on the chair he stood up and started following her. Unaware of his presence she walked a few paces ahead of him, swaying her tight round hips with each stride. From her ‘onion shaped' hips, his eyes went down to her lower legs and he could not help but admire the shape of her calves. They were nicely shaped, well developed calves that ended in narrow ankles. She was obviously walking very fast as within a few minutes they had left the taxi stand behind them and were in deserted parking area. She made her way to the red Neon with tinted glasses and opened her trunk. After placing the suit case inside she slammed it close and went to the front seat.

Sitting in the car she started loosening her hair. The rubber band tying her blonde hair was removed and tossed out of the window on the street. She was still adjusting her hair in the mirror when suddenly her cell phone vibrated in the purse and she opened the zipper to reach for it. By the time the cell phone was in her hands, the call had ended and there was an "I LOVE YOU" message on the caller display. Recognizing the Senator David Gifford's number on the caller display, she smiled and placed the phone back in her purse. Within a few minutes she was on the highway totally unaware of the pick up truck that was following her.

Her marriage with Senator David H. Gifford was almost three years old. She clearly remembered how she had met him the first time that October evening. It was the inauguration of the communities local Fitness Club and David H. Gifford, the ex-Marine turned politician, was the Chief Guest for the ceremony. Though Gifford was a famous man, both as a politician and a war veteran, she was not the least bit excited about meeting him. Politics was never her thing and neither was international military conflict. She was the chief fitness instructor at the club and her job was to give demonstrations on the exercise machines. She wanted the ceremony to be over soon so that she could go home and fill the new fish tank she had just brought. Her gold fish had been swimming in the small crystal bowl for almost a week now and she thought the new over-sized aquarium would be a nice and spacious change for them.

When David H. Gifford finally arrived he was very different than what she had expected. At forty-two years of age, his posture was upright and alert and he looked more a soldier than a politician. Yet in his manners he was gentle and friendly with an air of charisma that really impressed her. He had watched her closely as she showed him the electronic stair climber and the treadmill etc. After the dinner, just minutes before he was about to leave, one of his assistants approached her with a handwritten note from Mr. Gifford. It read as follows:

Dear Madeline,

I usually don't write notes to beautiful women. In fact I NEVER write notes to beautiful women but to be honest, there is something about you that is making me write this one. I would be extremely grateful if you could accompany me to dinner this weekend.

Coming Saturday 8:00 pm. I will wait for you in front of Garden Terrace main entrance. It would really make my day if you show up.

Yours,

David H. Gifford.

The small piece of paper left her totally baffled. She knew she looked hot but was she really THAT good??? Was she really good enough to bring Senator David H. Gifford to his knees? She decided to show up at Garden Terrace but she had made up her mind that if this guy was some rich playboy, expecting a quick and easy fuck, then she was going to break his heart big time. Finally, when Saturday came she went to Garden Terrace and found his limo waiting there. To her surprise he was as much of a gentleman as he was at the inauguration ceremony. They went to Baton Rogue- one of the most expensive restaurants in the city and enjoyed a long conversation over fine dinner. Gifford dropped her home in the limo and thanked her for the wonderful time. This romance did not end there as Madeline began to receive gifts and flowers from him. They went out a few more times and Gifford ended up proposing to her.

It had been three years to their marriage and the sex was as good as ever. Gifford was a very sexually charged man. In spite of his busy schedule, he would have sex with her three times a week. The kind of sex he was into was wild and dirty sex that would leave them both exhausted. He would return from golf, hot and smelly and find her sweating up on the treadmill. After locking the door he would grab her and rip her panties off. Then he would throw her on the bed and they would fuck like wild animals. This smelly, animalistic sex was what he really enjoyed and had taught her to enjoy too. In the midst of this wild sex life, a few articles had appeared in the newspaper portraying Madeline the aerobics instructor as the Senator's ‘trophy wife'. She was his sex goddess and in spite of his money and status, he was a ‘worshipper'. At least that was how media tried to portray their relationship.

She took the exit from the highway and started heading towards fields. There was green uninhabited land on both sides of the road and she lowered her window to smell the breeze. After a few minutes on the lone scenic road she began to approach the railway crossing. There was no one for miles except the pick up truck that had been behind her since she left the airport. The light at the crossing was red and the electronic barrier was down. She stopped at the crossing and started adjusting her hair in the mirror. In the reflection she could see the pick up truck, which had now stopped just behind her. She was still adjusting her hair when the door of the pick up truck opened and the driver started walking towards her window.

As he came and stood next to her she looked at him closely puzzled about his intentions. Dressed in a heavy and rugged cargo jacket he was a bronze skinned man, most likely of Middle Eastern/South Asian origin. His hair, long and straight was backcombed and curled just below his ears. With raised cheekbones, his face was hard and bony with a trim beard line forming a shadow across his jaw. Through this slight beard shadow, she could make out a two-inch scar that seemed like a knife wound.

"Something is hanging..." He spoke with a strong accent and his words made no sense. She could tell his English was weak.

"Pardon me?" She looked confused. "Something is hanging from the back of your car." He said pointing to the rear of her car. She opened the door and stepped out to check what was "hanging". As she approached the rear of her car, a train began to appear from the horizon.

"What do you mean something is hanging from the rear of my car?" She said looking at her trunk, which was closed. At that very moment he grabbed her arm from the back and brought her down with a violent tug. She found herself lying on the concrete kicking fiercely in the air as he tried to mount her. Her first reaction was that he was going to rape her. She began to yell and punch madly at him as he placed his weight on her chest. She screamed for help but her screams were muffled by the sound of the passing train. He had straddled her in such a way that her left arm was trapped under his knee. With her right she pounded at his jacket but he totally ignored her struggle. With an expressionless face he pulled out a bottle of liquid and began pouring it on a handkerchief. As a few drops of fluid fell on her face she smelled that it was liquid Anesthesia! He wanted to make her unconscious. At that moment she realized that this guy was not a rapist! He was something even more dangerous.

After soaking the cloth in the fluid, he brought it to her face and pressed it against her nose and mouth. During this struggle, one of her shoes had come off and she was now rubbing her bare heel against concrete. Gradually, she began to feel heavy and her right fist, which was mercilessly pounding at his jacket, began to lose its ferocity. She had resisted like a tigress but now she knew the struggle was over. The last thing that she remembered was pounding at his chest and his cold, expressionless face staring down at her.

Chapter 2:

It was a beautiful foggy morning with grayish mist covering the trees. The fog was so thick one could barely see ten steps ahead. All that was visible of the large trees was their trunks, as the tops had disappeared completely in the mist. There was a lake on one side but it was still and silent. There were no waves or movement of any kind in the water. A wooden boat was tied to the jetty and the edge of its oar could be made out from the fog.

A confused and disoriented Madeline stood gazing into the gray haze that dominated the greenery. She had no shoes and could feel the wet grass under her bare feet. Suddenly through the mist, she saw the outline of what seemed like a double storied house. With sluggish footsteps she started walking towards it. Her head was throbbing and there was a strange drowsiness that made her sway with each footstep. As she got closer to the house she realized that it was much larger than she had expected. In fact it was a red roofed mansion with gray stones and large windows. There was a rose garden in front of it with a large white water fountain. Through the thick fog it seemed like a palace built in the clouds. As she staggered into this exotic rose garden she realized that there was something familiar about the place. There was a paved pathway that lead to the main door with fresh pink roses on each side. She knew she had been here before. In her disoriented state the place looked familiar but her mind was too foggy to place it. "Where am I?" She thought to herself as she walked towards the main door. "What is this place?"

Suddenly she woke up in the back seat of the pick up truck with wrists handcuffed and feet tied together with a nylon rope. She was till dizzy from the anesthesia and felt extremely weak. Stretched on the back seat she raised her head and looked at her kidnapper sitting on the drivers seat. Through his deep-set eyes, he looked at her in the rear view mirror and she dropped her head on the seat again.

"You don't know who my husband is..." She moaned in a weak voice. "I am the wife of a very important man... the FBI will track you down and skin you alive if you hurt me." With that last words her voice shivered and she broke down. Yet she tried to conceal her cry. Tears rolled down her cheeks on to the leathered seat as she wondered what this man wanted from her. She examined her body and realized that her clothes had not been removed. She had not been raped or molested. But that scared her even more. She had looked into the eyes of this man when he had taken her down. There was no emotion in his eyes when he over powered her. There was no anger - no hate. He was swift in his movements, too detached from what he was doing and too professional. She raised her head again and looked outside the window. They were driving through industrial area towards the east. Looking at the factories and the hardware dumps along the road she estimated that they must have been around fifteen kilometer away from the railway crossing from where she was attacked.

Suddenly, a cell phone rang in the front seat. He looked at his wristwatch and then leaned towards one side to pick up the phone. With one hand on the steering wheel, he pulled the phone to his ears and started talking in some language she could not understand. She knew it was some Middle Eastern language but it was definitely not Arabic. As an airhostess who dealt with international passengers a frequent basis and she had enough experience to tell that the language this man was speaking was not Arabic. Her intuition was confirmed when he said "Khuda Hafiz" and hung up the phone. "Khuda" was the Persian word for ‘God'. She was aware that Arabs never used that word. They used the Quranic word "Allah." This guy was either Iranian or Pakistani and she understood that her kidnapping was politically motivated.

"You are a fanatical Bastard do you know that???" She spoke with a trembling voice. "You come into this country without visas, on fake passports ... you hijack planes, slam them into buildings. You blow things up and kill innocent people! Damn you ILLEGAL IMMIGRANTS!"

He looked at her through the rear view mirror and then his expressionless eyes returned to the road. His behavior showed he had understood little of what she had said and relieved by that she rested her head on the seat again.

They drove for another ten minutes and soon they were entering what seemed like a factory compound. It was a large factory compound but the place looked deserted. There were three main buildings in the factory compound. As they drove past the first one she saw a large red and black sign that read "Storage Area 1." Then they passed in front of the second identical building and the sign read "Manufacturing Area." Finally they passed in front of the third building and this time the sign read "Storage Area 2." Soon they were out of the factory compound and in front of what looked like a three story apartment building. With a steel fence around it this building looked as deserted as the factory compound. There was an old blue and white sign that read "Residential Suites." From the other side of the fence she could hear the barking of dogs.

After pulling the handbreaks the man calmly turned around to face her, his eyes as expressionless as ever. Leaning across the seat he brought his face close to hers and looked into her frightened blue eyes. He then spoke in perfect English:

"This country originally belonged to the Native Indians... It belonged to the Mohawks, the Chippawas, the Apaches! When your ‘white' ancestors came from Europe, they neither had a valid VISA nor any landing papers. So don't you EVER call me an illegal immigrant! It is YOU who is illegal here." With this he turned around and stepped out of the car. "This whole country is illegal." He said and closed the door.

Totally baffled, she looked at him as he walked towards the fenced gate.

Chapter 3:

Dressed in his towel robe, Senator Gifford stood in his balcony gazing at the open sky. The night was silent and the sky was clear. The wind was blowing against his face and he continued to stare at the glittering stars. There was something soothing about them. Three hours ago he had come home expecting his sexy wife to be waiting for him in the living room. It was a Saturday evening and he had come home anticipating the wild and dirty sex they had reserved those evenings for. He has hoped she would be all hot and sweaty from her workout- her toned body glistening with sweat. The very thought of it had given him a hardness in his pants as he sat in the back seat of his limo. But he had found the place empty. He had then called Madeline on her cell phone and bells were ringing but no one was picking it up.

About half an hour later he had gone under the shower feeling a tinge of anger for his wife. "Shed better have a good excuse for not showing up." He had thought as he showered. The erection that he had had was still hard and he found himself stroking his shaft thinking about his wife. When he came out of the washroom in his towel robe the wall clock was showing 9:00. By now he was not angry but seriously concerned. Madeline always called when something happened off schedule. He knew something had happened to her. The suddenly his phone had rung and something he just knew that it was regarding his wife.

Eddie Stewart the Police Chief was on the other end. He told him that an abandoned red Neon was found at the railway crossing. It was registered in his wife, Madeline Gifford's name. When the vehicle was found, one of the doors was left open and a high heeled shoe was lying on the road next to the door. There was no sign of his wife but it was obvious she had disappeared after a violent struggle because stains of liquid anesthesia were on the road. The Chief believed this kidnapping was politically motivated because of the professional way in which it was done. He had said he could not reveal any more information because the case was now being handled by the FBI and several agents were already on the trail of the kidnappers.

Three hours after this phone call, Senator Gifford was still in the towel robe standing on his balcony, gazing at the stars. He was a soldier and knew how to handle pressure. His training had taught him to remain calm under the most intense pressure and that is what he was trying to do. But it was hard. "Who could these people be? Who would do such a thing?" He thought to himself.

David Gifford was a confrontational politician who, in the recent past, had made some very serious enemies. In fact, he had made more enemies in his political career then he had made in the battlefields of Vietnam and Desert Storm. Yet he was a soldier in the battlefield and had remained a soldier in politics. While most politicians spoke a diplomatic language, Gifford knew no compromise! After 9/11, he had supported the war in Afghanistan and he was supporting the War in Iraq. It was his aggressive anti-Muslim speeches that drew him the crowds. In a fragile time, people had started seeing him as a strong man who could say things other politicians were afraid to say. It was this sheer aggressiveness of his that had made him so popular. Now, with a following of millions, he knew he had to remain calm at this time of crisis. He knew that any sign weakness on his part would be used by his political opponents to destroy his image. He had to remain calm in front of the media and in the speeches he would make. He must not let his enemies use this kidnapping as a chance to destroy him politically. He had to fight.

A few minutes later, while gazing at the sky he realized that the phone inside the living room was ringing. Turning around he rushed inside the house.

"Mr. Gifford... some press people are here to interview you. Should I send them away?" It was Irene his personal operator.

He paused for a second and looked at his watch. It was 10:00 pm at night but if he turned away the press, the newspapers next day would write something like, "Senator Gifford refuses to appear in front of Press!" One news heading like that and his political career was finished. He had to face the reporters no matter how late it was and he had to look under control.

"Mr. Gifford???" Irene spoke again.

"No send them in and tell them I will be down in a minute." He said and then rushed in the washroom to change his clothes.

A few minutes later Gifford hurried down the stairs buttoning his cuffs. Dressed in dark gray trousers and a white shirt, Senator Gifford looked freshly shaven and totally in control. The light smell of his cologne filled the sitting room the moment he entered. To his surprise there was only one person waiting for him in the sitting room. She stood up to greet him as walked towards her.

"Hello Mr. Gifford. I am Amanda Young from World Today!" She said offering a hand.

"Pleasure to meet you Miss Young. Please have a seat." Gifford said as he examined the bronze skinned, ultra-tanned brunette in front of him. She was surprisingly young for a professional journalist, with dark hair falling below her shoulders in curls. Yet she had the body of a much mature woman. In the first glimpse, Gifford estimated her to be in her early twenties no more. Yet she had the sensual body of a much mature woman. At 5.8 inches without heels she was heavily built and not slim and slender. Yet the weight was in such right places that most men would just look at her and drool at those curves. As she stood in front of the Senator, her shoulders were pulled back and her large breasts jutted outwards stretching the fabric of her red t-shirt. Gifford looked at her amazing chest and calculated her bust size to be a 38DD or most likely an E. Then his gaze returned to her face and he noticed her black eyes and dark eye lashes. She was definitely a woman to behold.

"Please have a seat." Gifford repeated and sat down in front of her.

"Thanks!" She said looking a little tense. It seemed as if she was new to this profession and was probably meeting a high profile figure for the very first time.

"I am sorry about your wife and sorry to be disturbing you at this time but this news has to go in the papers tomorrow." She said brushing a strand of hair from her face.

"I understand." Gifford stated smiling politely.

She crossed her legs, pulled out a pen and placed her writing pad on her lap. This further confirmed Gifford's assessment that she was new, as professional journalists never took notes that way.

"What newspaper are you working for again?" Gifford asked.

"World Today." She replied with a nervous smile.

"Oh right!" Gifford leaned back on his chair. "What questions can I answer for you?" Gifford stated.

"When did you find out about her disappearance?"

"About ...(looking at his watch) three hours ago" "Who do you think is behind it?"

"I really can not speculate at this point. So far we have no clue."

"Are you satisfied with the progress of the investigation?"

"Oh yes I am satisfied!"

"In spite of the fact that FBI has given you no clue?"

This made Gifford look straight into her. She was scribbling on her pad without looking at him and it made Gifford realize for the first time that she was not as innocent as he had initially thought her to be. This interview was not going to be as easy as he thought. She was young but was definitely not a kid.

"Well... as you know Miss Young, investigations like these take some time. But the people working on this case are highly trained, competent professionals and I have confidence in them."

She kept scribbling on her pad.

"Do you suspect this to be the work of Islamic Terrorists?"

This was really not the question Gifford wanted to answer. A statement from him on this issue was going to affect America's image around the world. He knew that if he answered in a "yes" and it later turned out to be the work of some white trash, then he would be spending the rest of his career apologizing. He would have to eat his words just like the officials who initially accused Muslim Fundamentalists of Oklahoma City bombing. Questions like these at times like these were tough.

"I ... (he paused for a second) I really cant point fingers at anyone at this stage. Its too early."

"But I am not asking you to point fingers." She raised her head and looked at him straight in the eyes. "I am asking if you SUSPECT it to be the work of Muslim extremists? President Bush has told the nation very clearly that there are Al-Qaeda cells operating across USA. Are you totally rejecting that as a possibility?"

"I am not rejecting the President's statement that there no Al-Qaeda cells across USA." He calmly took out a cigar. "But ...is the kidnapping of my wife the work of those cells? We will have to wait and see." He smiled. He had very successfully evaded question that could have killed him.

"Thanks a lot." Amanda said and stood up gathering her notes.

"It was a pleasure talking to you. I hope they find her soon." She said shaking his hand. This time when Senator Gifford shook her hand he noticed the look of confidence in her that he had not seen earlier.

"Allow me to escort you to the gate." He said and then took out his business card from his wallet. "In case you have any more questions." He smiles at her and they exited the room together.

Chapter 4:

Madeline stood inside the house and looked around. The interior was unexpectedly posh with wooden furniture and plants. There was a red stone fireplace on one side but there was no fire. The room was dimly lit with natural light coming from the large glass window. She wanted to go to the window and see the view outside but was drawn instead to the large wooden clock mounted on the wall. She walked towards it and looked at it. It was a heavy clock with bold roman numeric against a white background- no doubt a priceless antique. For a few moments she stood motionless looking at the majestic clock. Then suddenly she wanted to know where she was. She looked around and saw a wooden stairway leading to the first floor of the house but she hesitated to go there. Instead she made her way to the glass window and looked outside at the landscape. The rose garden outside was as foggy as ever.

Suddenly, she woke up on the floor. There was no carpet beneath her and she realized that the floor she now sat on was cold. There was no furniture in the room, just some rusty, old exercise equipment. There was only a small window in the room through which she could hear the dogs barking in the night. She kept looking at it, for at that moment, this tiny window seemed like her only contact with the outside world. The sky was black with shiny stars. She kept looking at it till it turned bluish black, then dark gray and finally sky blue. The stars had disappeared and sunlight was now coming into the room.

Birds were chirping outside when the door was suddenly flung open. Her captor walked in. She looked at him terrified. He stood expressionless looking down at her. As usual his eyes showed no feeling, no emotion. "I am sorry you had to spend the night in the floor here." He said shoving both hands in the pocket of his jeans. "I was preparing the other room for you. " He said and with his eyes he gestured her to follow. It was a subtle gesture with eyebrows only. Yet it had an air of gentle authority to it that she could not see herself disobeying. She stood up and followed him out of the room. There was a sitting lounge outside with a couch, a glass table and a few cushions on the floor. There was a large TV in the corner of the room and a sliding glass window that seemed to open in a balcony outside. On the opposite side of the living room an oval dining table and a kitchen counter. They walked from between the living room and the kitchenette and then through a passage that had bedrooms on both sides. The door was already open and Madeline followed her captor till they were standing in the middle of what seemed like a large bedroom. There was a built-in closet on one end and with the exception of the bed there was no furniture. It was obvious that this apartment had been abandoned some time back and though there was not much in it, the place had been kept spotlessly clean.

"I am sorry but this is all the luxury I can give you." He said and then pointed to a corner of the room. "That is the suitcase you were carrying in your trunk." He said. She looked at where he had pointed and saw her suitcase. Of all the things, it was this that she was most glad to see. It contained a few sets of clothes, a pair of extra shoes, a tooth brush, tooth paste and other beauty care stuff she usually took with her when she went on international flights. "You have 25 minutes to get ready for the breakfast." He said and exited the room closing the door.

Alone in the room she took a deep breath and ran her fingers through her blonde hair. She still had not gotten over what had happened to her. A day ago she was on her way to her home to meet her husband and now she was in the middle of nowhere, in an abandoned residential complex in a deserted industrial area. "What the fuck!" She said and sighed. Just like the living room she had seen outside, her bedroom also had the same glass sliding doors that opened in the same balcony. She walked towards the doors and slid them open. A strong gust of inward wind blew her blonde hair back and she had to throw her head back closing her eyes for an instant. Then she stepped outside into the balcony and realized that she was on top most floor of what seemed like a residential complex for the factory people.

Standing in the balcony she examined the landscape ahead of her. The place looked like a garbage dump as far as her eyes could see. This area was not one factory but a whole abandoned industrial block, whereall sorts of industrial litter covered the landscape. The buildings, which at one time would have been factories and storage facilities, were now nothing but industrial garbage dumps. The new laws introduced by her husband's government required industries to move further away from the cities and this place, which would have been packed with factory workers at one time, was now completely deserted. It was nothing but a giant graveyard of industrial waste.

Half an hour later they were both seated on the table oval besides the living room eating in silence. The breakfast included fried eggs, brown bread and a bottle of orange juice. There was a box of cereal and some milk but Madeline never touched it. She looked at him up close. His lean bony face was as expressionless as ever.

"How long will you keep me?" She asked.

"Depends on your husband." His reply was calm.

"What do you want from him?"

He looked into her eyes and then wiped his lips with a napkin. "Unconditional withdrawal of American forces from Iraq and Afghanistan!" He said and stood up.

She looked at him baffled. Was he idiotic enough to think that her husband alone could cause this change in American foreign policy and pull the troops out of Iraq and Afghanistan? His reply made her realize that she would be here for a while. There was no conversation after that.

Chapter 5:

The office of the police chief was full of reporters. They waited outside the main door, which had been closed for over an hour now. They were waiting for the three men to come outside and give statements for the press. These statements were what the whole nation was waiting to hear.

Minutes ago an email had been received by the FBI office in which the kidnapping of Mrs. Gifford had been confirmed. The sender had placed a demand that American forces must withdraw from Afghanistan and Iraq within 2 weeks or the hostage will be slaughtered just like Danielle Pearl. After mentioning a list of atrocities American forces had committed in the region the sender of the email had said that in order to save the lives of innocents that were being killed everyday by US troops, he had no choice but to kidnap Mrs. Gifford. He had also said that it would have been easier for him to abduct a common American citizen but he wanted the political elite of America to suffer not the common man. That is why Madeline Gifford was selected.

The press had remained silent about the email for reasons of national security. But the news had to come out and they wanted a statement from the authorities. For this very reason they were gathered outside the office of Edward Spencer the Police Chief. At the moment Spencer was in a meeting with Senator Gifford and Chuck Gordon, the most experienced detective of the FBI!

"This guy is an AL-QAEDA operative can't you people see that???" Gifford yelled in frustration as he slammed a fist on Eddie Spencers desk. "Look at his demands for Christ Sakes!!! He is not asking for money... he is not asking for the release of some prisoners. He wants withdrawal of USA from TWO COUNTRIES damn it ... TWO GOD DAMN COUNTRIES!" He yelled out the last words.

Eddie Spencer looked at Chuck Gordon who was leaning calmly on his desk.

"Mr. Gifford, please gather yourself." Gordon stood up from the desk and walked around it. He filled a glass with water and walked towards Senator Gifford and placed it on the wooden table in front of him.

Gifford regained his composure, "Look, all I am saying is that this is an organized and trained terrorist cell. They are trying to influence the foreign policy of our country. This case is BEYOND regional police. It is BEYOND FBI! We need to get Pentagon involved. We need to get the Delta Force!"

Spencer took a deep breath and leaned back on his reclining chair.

"You are over reacting Senator." Chuck Gordon spoke calmly. "This is no AL-QAEDA or any terrorist cell! This is some lone guy sitting some where in the outskirts of our city. I can visualize him right now. He is sitting on a PC and a fax machine and sending these messages. In 24 hours he has virtually brought a super power down to its knees." Gordon paused for a while and then pulled out a cigar. "He is no Al-Qaeda! There are no terrorist cells in the USA and WE the FBI know it!" He lighted the cigar and took a puff. "Just look at the terrorists we have imprisoned in Guantanamo Bay! They have all been taken from Afghanistan and Pakistan. Not a single one was picked up from USA because there are no foreign terrorist cells here!" He then turned and walked around the desk. "The President and the Foreign Office give people fairy tales to believe. They have to sell two regional wars to the taxpayers so they create these fairy tales. As an FBI officer with thirty years of field experience I can assure you that there is no Al-Qaeda or any other Islamic terrorist organization in USA! This is a lone man somewhere in the outskirts and we can deal with him."

When the door opened Spencer was the first one out, followed by Gordon and then Gifford. The reporters and the news crew herded around them. "NO QUESTIONS PLEASE!" Spencer pushed his way through the crowd creating space for the two men who followed. "WE WILL GIVE OUT STATEMENTS IN THE PRESS MEETING TOMORROW" He said as he shoved his way past the reporters. Through the thick of the crowd Gifford noticed the girl in white shirt. His eyes examined the buxom figure, the amazing chest that flared outwards. He noticed how the shoulders that were pulled back causing the white shirt to press back against the roundness of each bosom. Without looking at the face he knew it was Amanda Young. When their eyes met he smiled at her but she had seen him ogling at her figure a few minutes ago. She did not return his smile. Instead she gave him an expressionless wink and that caused his boner to move inside his pants.

Seven hours later at exactly 8:00 pm that evening, Senator Gifford was sitting in the VIP dining lounge of Baton Rogue Hotel with mild Italian music playing behind him. It was the same hotel where he had brought his wife for their first date. But today he was alone on the table. There was a large fish tank behind him in which there were scores of multi-colored fish. Baton Rogue was an expensive restaurant in which reservations had to be made days in advance. While the main lounge was always cluttered, the VIP lounge upstairs was a calm place where rich business men and high profile political elite dined.

The last two days had been very hard for Gifford and he had to get away from it all. He wanted some time with himself so he had come to Baton Rogue all alone. The news of his wives kidnapping had been in the media therefore the waiters, who knew him quite well, looked at him and whispered amongst themselves. Suddenly, his cell phone rang. He was in no mood to pick it up but before switching it off he looked at the caller display. "Amanda Young" It read. Quickly he picked up the phone and said, "Hello..."

"Mr. Gifford this is Amanda ... Amanda Young from ..."

Before she could complete her introduction Gifford spoke, "Good evening Miss Young how are you doing?"

"I am fine Senator Sir." She laughed. "I was waiting to catch you this afternoon at the Office of the Police Chief but ...

"Oh yes ... we..." For a second Senator recalled the glimpse of her standing among the reporters at the office. He remembered how he had been able to recognize her just from her body. How she had seen him ogling at her and how she had winked at him. The memories produced a sensation in his trousers. It was the same sensation that he had experienced when she had winked at him. "Well Miss Young ... I do not have any new information to give you quite frankly. But... if you want to join me for a casual chat, I am upstairs in the VIP lounge of Baton Rogue."

It took Amanda an hour to get there and that hour was one of the longest hour of Senator Gifford's life. He ordered and consumed two cocktails in the waiting. Finally he looked at his watch and it was 9:00 pm. He was going to light a cigar when he noticed the beautiful brunette walking towards him. The glimpse of Amanda Young he saw that instant, was to remain with him forever.

Dressed in glittering red she swayed her body walking towards him. His eyes examined the figure hugging dress that emphasized her killer curves. It was a sleeveless dress with a low V-neck that proudly displayed her ample cleavage. Gifford had always thought of Amanda as a slightly chubby woman but the tightness of the dress showed that she was perfect. This woman definitely dressed to kill.

"I hope I did not keep you waiting for too long." She smiled and pulled a chair.

"Well it was worth it." Gifford replied as he undressed her with his eyes.

Amanda was busy adjusting her chair and probably did not hear the reply. The waiter approached the table with a menu.

"Thanks" Amanda smiled at him as she took the menu.

For Gifford, the next hour over the dinner was like a blur. They talked about a lot of things except their professions but during this conversation, Gifford spent more time studying Amanda's physical attributes than he did listening to her words. This behavior did not go unnoticed by Amanda but she did not seem to mind. Suddenly she put forward the question.

"Do the authorities believe it is some Islamic Militant group?"

The question caught Gifford off guard. He was busy staring at the tattoo on her arms when he realized what she had asked.

He regained composure. "Well ... I don't not have anything to tell you at this point Amanda." For the first time he had addressed her as Amanda and not Miss young. She continued to stare into his eyes without any facial expression.

"You spent over an hour in the office with the head of the FBI and the Chief of Police. Obviously the three of you were discussing something."

"Well ... nothing that would make a headline."

"Mr. Senator..." Amanda looked at him. "I know you get what you want. You have the reputation of that go-getter politician. I have seen you look at me a couple of times and I can see in your eyes what you want.... But you will have to give me a story."

"Oh really?" Senator leaned back on the chair and looked straight at her. "So you want a story eh?"

Amanda took a sip of her drink and smiled.

"And what do I get in return?"

Amanda looked around and stopped a waiter passing by. "Pardon me. ... is there a washroom here somewhere?"

"Certainly Madam! You go around the fish tank and the restrooms would be to your right." He smiled.

"Thanks." She stood up and looked at Gifford. "Follow me..." She said and left the table.

Confused Gifford's eyes followed her legs as she walked away from him. The red dress that she was wearing had long slits that exposed her toned brown thighs as she walked. With every stride the slit would part, revealing her muscular thighs all the way up. He had no idea what she meant by the words "Follow me." In fact he was not sure if had heard her right.

She then turned at him and with her manicured finger she gestured him to come after her. Turning around she then walked towards the restrooms swaying her hips. Gifford stood up and followed her till they were both in the lobby outside the restrooms.

Slowly, Amanda opened the door to the men's room and peeked inside. It was empty. She took Gifford by the hand and lead him inside. She lead him to the last booth which was actually meant for the handicapped. It was the biggest one with ample space for wheelchair users. She pulled him inside and bolted the door behind him.

"What are you ..." Gifford could not complete his sentence when she turned around and placed her manicured finger on his lips.

"Shhhhhhh... I wont hurt you." She smiled then started unbuttoning his shirt. Her fingers worked quickly as she undid every button in his white cotton shirt till his chest was open for her examination. "Nice chest Senator." She said and started kissing his chest. Her hands went inside his shirt as she kissed and licked near his nipple.

Gifford was already aroused by the sight of this exotic woman. As she bent low to kiss his chest, the gaping V-neck of her dress fell away from her body giving him an enticing view of her breasts as they swayed in her top. The sight was enough to give him an erection.

As his penis grew in his pants and a tent started to form in his crotch. It drew Amanda's attention right away. With a smile on her face she fell to her knees looking up at the Senator. Soon her fingers were unzipping his fly. The next instant his throbbing hardness sprang out inches away from her face.

"Mmmmm... that's a nice cock!" She said and took the shaft in her hand.

Just then they heard the main door open, followed by the sound of clumsy footsteps. Gifford controlled his breathing and gestured her to remain silent. But ignoring his gestures, she took the bulb head of his cock in her mouth and started sucking.

"Hmmmm..." Gifford released his breath slowly as he dropped his head back staring at the ceiling. They then heard the door to the booth open as the man entered and then they heard it get locked it behind him. Then they heard him take off his trousers in the next booth. Gifford wanted to maintain silence but Amanda was sucking his head like a lolly pop. He looked down and saw her deep throating him. The V neck was extremely low cut and he could easily see the valley of her boobs. He closed his eyes and ontinued to suppress his breathing. They then heard the man in the neighboring booth relieve himself.

Amanda wrapped her lips around the pulsing shaft and started bobbing her head on his dick. He closed his eyes and enjoyed her lips go back and forth on his shaft. The sensation was truly amazing. As she brought him nearer and nearer to climax, he leaned back against the wall and held her bobbing head in her hands. Amanda definitely was a good sucker. He started bucking his hips forward driving his cock as deep in her mouth as he could. Sensing that Gifford was near, Amanda increased the pace of her sucking. Just seconds away from the climax, the man in the next booth flushed his toilet. Gifford had been holding his eruption for the fear alerting the man in the next booth. As soon as the sound of the flush filled the room Gifford siezed the opportunity and eased his cock muscles just a bit. It was enough to push him over the edge and the next instant he exploded! As the sound of the flush muted his moans, his throbbing cock shot loads and loads of semen into Amanda's mouth.

In a few seconds the flushing sound had ended and they were alone in the washroom, the sound of his heavy breathing filling the air. The man had exited the washroom and the silence indicated that they were both alone. He looked down at Amanda's face and was truly surprised to see the vast quantity of semen he had produced. It was dripping from her mouth down to her neck and then going right between her exposed cleavage.

Chapter 6:

Madeline opened the sliding door of her room and walked outside on the balcony. The sun was going down and the deserted industrial area was as silent as ever. For some reason, the dogs were not barking. Her eyes scanned the compound and she saw a truck parked on the other side of the fence! It was a blue truck that looked similar to the garbage trucks that cleared garbage around the city. On the side of it were the words "CNZ Contractors" followed by a 1-800 number she could not read. This truck gave her a ray of hope that she might be able to leave the area alive. Her hands went inside her jacket and she pulled out a small pen and a notepad that she always kept when she went on flights. She then started scribbling. The quick note that she wrote read as follows:

"HELP! I am being held in the industrial area. I am in the gray building opposite the water tank.

Madeline Gifford"

She then made a ball of the paper and threw it towards the truck. It was too light to go the distance and fell in the compound.

"SHIT!" She said and tore another paper. Quickly she wrote the same words on it and attempted another throw at the truck. The paper made it across the fence this time but still fell a good five yards short of the truck. She quickly tore out a third piece and scribbled the same message. Then she looked around the room to find a pebble or a small stone. There was none. Damn! She thought for an instant and then reached for her ring. It was a heavy gold ring with a giant diamond that Gifford had presented her. She loved the ring but not more than her own life. Wrapping the note around it she made a ball of paper, which was slightly heavier then the one before. Then not fully satisfied with its weight she tore a few more pieces of paper from the tiny notebook and wrapped around the ring till they formed a ball that was almost the size of a tennis ball. She then approached the window and looked at her target. The parked truck was a good distance away. Even if she was able to land her note in the rear of the truck, what was the chance of it being found? Would the driver not discard it as garbage upon finding it? She then took a deep breath and threw the ball of paper out of the window. It landed right in the rear compartment of the truck.

"Good! She thought to herself. Now lets hope that trucker finds it."

A few minutes later they were having dinner on the same oval table on which they had their breakfast. There was lamb cooked in curry along with vegetables and pita bread.

"There are no locks anywhere in this apartment except the washroom." He suddenly said.

"Huh?"

"The doors here can't be locked except the washroom." He stated. "But don't worry. Your privacy will be respected."

"Thanks." She said and continued with the food.

"I wont be here all the time." He said dipping a piece of bread in the curry. "You are free to watch TV, cook and move around the house. However there is one room that you must never go near."

Madeline looked at him straight.

"That one!" He pointed towards the closed door besides the washroom. "Like I said there are no locks on the door but I hope you will respect my privacy the way I respect yours."

Without answering she continued with her food.

The TV was on and CNN was flashing "Breaking News!" The face of Zain Verjee appeared on the screen as she announced that four American soldiers have been killed in Iraq when their Humvee was ambushed near Tikrit.

He heard the breaking news and smiled. "They will die like dogs the way they deserve to die." He said and started filling his glass with water.

Madeline looked at his face as he poured ice water into the glass. "Do you like Saddam Hussein?" She asked.

He looked at her and the faint smile returned to his face again. "Nope, I hate him. But I hate your country even more."

"Why?" She asked.

He took a gulp from the glass and placed in on the table. "Why do people hate Saddam?' He asked. Before she could give her answer he gave his. "Because Saddam killed people! The Baath Party of Saddam Hussein seized the country in 1979 and do you know how many people they killed in their thirty years of rule?"

Madeline shook her head. "I don't know."

"Estimated sixteen thousand!" He said and took another gulp of water from his glass. "This figure includes near five thousand Kurds that were gassed in Kurdish settlements of Hajabla." He looked at her through his keen eyes once again." Now! Let me ask you another question. American cruise missiles started raining on Baghdad on March 19th and this war of liberation ended on April 9th. Do you know how many civilians American forces killed in twenty days of bombing?"

She looked at him blank.

"Ask this question to your average American and he wont know the answer. But from the beginning of the second Gilf war till the occupation of Iraq, American forces in Baghdad, Mosul and Tikrit alone killed 16000! American bombs that were dropped from the sky killed more innocent Iraqi's in first twenty days of war than Saddam Hussein and his Baath part did in thirty years of their rule. It is a fact that is not reported by your media. That is why I hate your President and that is why your country is so hated."

"And kidnapping me and holding me hostage is an expression of that hate that you feel towards my President and my country?" Madeline asked looking down.

He leaned back against the chair. "Well look at it this way. American Muslims living in USA are monitored 24 hours a day. If FBI finds anything suspicious about them, they get picked up from their homes, shops or offices. They are detained in interrogation cells where they don't have access to a lawyer. Most of these people are innocent just like you are. So I am not doing anything to you that your Government doesn't do to hundreds of people. In fact I am giving you a television a frisdge, a food whatever luxuries my meager finances allow" With that he stood up. "There is one more thing I must tell you."

"What?" She asked.

"There are two dogs in the compound below. If you step in to the compound they will attack you. So don't try to escape. No one will hurt you here in this apartment as long as you follow the rules." He said and then left the room.

Chapter 7:

Remington Hall was filled with people. Close to two thousand people had gathered under the large chandelier to listen to Senator Gifford. His statements after the kidnapping of his wife had appeared in World Today a day before and they had drawn this anxious crowd.

"Ladies and Gentleman..." The strong voice of Senator Gifford addressed the crowd. "Our nation is going through a difficult time. Every day I pick up the newspaper and read about an American soldier killed or wounded in Iraq. I think about the families of these soldiers and the agony they must be going through. I think of the mother who has lost a son, I think of the wife who has lost a husband, I think of the children who have lost a father. But let me assure you that what we are doing in these countries is the right thing for if we don't go to Iraq then Iraq will come to us. If we don't go to Afghanistan then Afghanistan will come to us. The kidnapping of my wife is the living proof of this. The enemy has chosen to bring the war to our backyard. We must send more troops to crush these terrorist networks... because in the end it will either be us or it would be THEM!"

He pauses and looks at the crowd for an instant. "Ladies and Gentleman... I know you are skeptical of the political elite that tries to sell this war to you. I know you are skeptical of these unaffected politicians who drive around in stretch limos while you weep over the body bags ... of your sons, your husbands, your loved ones. But look at me... LADIES AND GENTLEMAN LOOK AT ME! A week ago I had dinner with Madeline at Baton Rogue restaurant. I still remember what she wore ... the smell of her perfume ... the look in her eyes as she said farewell to me that night. She is no more with me and I don't know where she is. I don't know if she is live and I don't know if I will ever see her again. But my love can be sacrificed. It can be sacrificed for this country and it can be sacrificed for YOU! Let us join our hands and fight this war till the end. AND ASK NOT WHAT YOUR COUNTRY CAN DO FOR YOU BUT WHAT YOU CAN DO FOR YOUR COUNTRY!"

The stadium exploded with applause. Women took out their hankies and started wiping the tears that rolled down their cheeks. In a few minutes the sounds echoed the hall. They were the sounds of "USA...USA...USA!" The whole stadium was echoing with these sounds and the applause filled the room.

Chuck Gordon of the FBI stood in one corner with the Police Chief Ed Spencer. "According to Oscar Wilde, Patriotism is the virtue of the vicious." Gordon said as he left the hall with Lt. Spencer following behind. "According to me it is the virtue of the idiotic!" He added as they left the hall and the applause behind them.

At 2:00 am the dim bedroom lights were still on in the Gifford Mansion.

"Ohhh God your pussy is sooo wet!" Senator Gifford moaned as he explored the depths of Amanda Young.

"Mmmmm FUCK Give it to meee ..." She moaned and dug her manicured fingers into the Senators naked back. "Give it to me harder."

With a powerful thrust Senator buried his cock deep inside the sexy buxom Goddess maoning naked under him.

All this time, Senator Gifford had imagined what she would be like without clothes. She was much better than what he had imagined. Amanda Young was the kind of woman who looked slightly over weight with her clothes on. But when she got naked she looked fabulous. Right now, this busty queen was sprawled on the bed and Senator Gifford was pounding deep into her. The force of his thrusts was causing her heavy breasts to sway back and forth. With eyes closed and mouth open Amanda moaned once again. "Ohh Damn you are so good ..."

This caused Senators cock to swell a little more inside her pussy. He began to fuck her harder and faster and sounds of his balls slapping her ass filled the room. She lifted opened her eyes and raised herself a little on the bed and looked at her vagina. His hard cock was going in and out of her like a piston, sending waves of pleasure through her body. The next instant she felt Senator Gifford's lips pressed against hers as his hand grabbed a swaying breast. The feel of his hand on her large breast was far too much then she could take. With her fingernails still buried in his back she exploded pulling herself closer to him.

"Ohh damn this feels so good!" She said as she came. The very next instant she felt Giffords body stiffen as he shot loads and loads of semen into her. Their naked bodies clung to each other as they came together in waves.

Chapter 8:

Madeline was alone in the house. She stood in front of the door of the room and wondered if she should try to sneak in. She wanted to know what was going on inside the room. She thought she won't go in but she would open the door and take a look inside. She was all alone and no one would know. She paused for a second and looked outside. The fog had totally covered the greenery outside. The place looked like heaven.

Suddenly she woke up alone in her room. She looked outside and the sun was up. Through the sliding glass doors she saw the same junk of the industries. The rusted pipes, rubber wires, metal pieces and above all cardboard boxes - lots of them. Selecting a fresh pair of clothes she stepped out for the washroom. The apartment was empty. She went inside the washroom and took off her clothes and placed them in the washing machine. The next instant she was brushing her teeth under the warm shower water. Various thoughts came to her mind. Should she try to escape? Even if she did manage to leave the apartment she was worried about the two dogs that guarded the compound. She had not seen them but she had heard them barking. Besides the dogs one thing scared her more. Her captor had so far treated her with respect. She did not want to do anything that would change his attitude towards her.

As warm water came down the slopes of her figure she felt her nipples tighten. She wondered what was in the forbidden room. She wondered if she should go in and take a look. He was keeping something in there and she wanted to see. Yet, a part of her told her not to. He had respected her privacy and she should respect his. But then the counter thought came that he was a kidnapper, a criminal! He was keeping her against her wish and she was in no way morally obligated to honor the privacy of a man who had kept her hostage.

Half an hour later she came out of the washroom drying her hair with a towel. The apartment was still empty. She looked at the forbidden room and the door was closed. She stood in the hallway drying her hair and then went outside in the balcony. She looked down and realized that his jeep was nowhere to be seen. He was gone. She came back in and started fixing her breakfast. It would take her just a second to open the door and take a peek in, she thought as she fried her eggs. "Damn Madeline... JUST DO IT!" a part of her said and that was it. After taking the eggs off the frying pan she went towards the forbidden room feeling like Eve going for the forbidden apple.

She rotated the doorknob and found it open just like he had said. Pushing the door open she looked inside. It was a small room like the one in which she had woken up the first night. There was a computer table with a PC and a fax machine with a stack of newspapers and magazines on the side table. She could make out back issues of Times and Newsweek and various other newspapers all neatly stacked up. As she stepped in the room she saw a large map of USA on the wall. Areas near Washington had been marked with a black marker and she could see notes written all over in foreign writing. It was Arabic script but she did not know if it was Arabic, Persian or Urdu. Slowly she made her way to the computer table, her heart beating as she approached it. There were three passports lying on the table along with a magnifying glass and some photographs. It was obvious he was forging travel documents in this little office. She had heard of "terrorist cells" across USA but had never seen one. She wanted to try the telephone to see if it worked. She picked the receiver but there was no tone. Instead there was a voice message that said, "This phone has been locked! To make a phone call, dial the password." She hung up. Then she moved the mouse on the table and the monitor switched open. There was a message on the screen that read "Enter Password!" Obviously this man was not stupid to leave her alone in the house with all the communication hooked in.

She was about to leave the room when she spotted a blue file cover besides the fax machine. It was a plastic file cover with words "Shahnaz" written on it. She picked it up and opened. Her heart was beating for she knew she was not supposed to be in there and touch his things but she wanted to know about this man. She wanted to know his name and what he was up to. She opened the file and found the picture of beautiful woman. From the photograph it seemed she must have been in her mid twenties, with gray eyes and dark hair. There was another picture of her in an airhostess uniform. Madeline looked at her from some time and then turned the page. What she saw was an image that would haunt her for the rest of her life!

At that moment she felt she had never been in that room and never opened that file. Her hand reached to her mouth and she dropped the file on the floor. The third picture was of the same girl lying on the floor with face half burnt! There was an expression of agony on her face that showed that the last few seconds before her death mushy have been very painful. At that very instant the realization sunk into her mind that this man was kidnapping air hostesses and killing them in the most painful way. Suddenly she wanted to get out of the room. She picked up the file and placed it back in the same spot that she had picked it up from. Within an instant she was out of the room lying on her bed looking at the ceiling. Her mind was not registering anything. It was totally numb with shock and fear.

Some time later she heard the sound of the door open and the close. It was followed by footsteps coming towards her door. The knock startled her. She lay still without saying anything. He knocked again and then called her name.

"Madeline ...?"

She lay still.

"I brought some food." He said and then she heard the footsteps going away from her door.

She stood up and composed herself. ‘He must not know she had been in that room.' She thought. ‘The FBI will be looking for her and she just has to stay alive till they find this maniac.'

A few minutes later they were both seated on the table with Chinese food in front of them. She kept staring into her soup but did not taste. Instead she would occasionally stir it. He finished his soup and then opened the box of chicken drumsticks. The sound of the paper box being ripped brought her back to reality.

"These are good." He said offering her the drumsticks. They smelled very good but Madeline was in no mood to touch them.

"I am fine thanks!" She said and started stirring her soup.

"You have not eaten anything." He said. "Are You feeling OK?"

"Just a headache." She replied and then tasted the soup.

He went back to eating his chicken. They ate in silence for some time and then he spoke very calmly "You have been in the room haven't you?"

His words took all the life from her. He had said it softly but in such a tone that denying would not convince him otherwise. He knew. At that moment she felt her knees shaking. So far this man had given her the ‘space' she needed. But now she knew things would be different. He was very calmly going to violate her and he would feel justified because she had violated him.

"You Americans are all the same." He said filling his glass with water. His words or actions showed no anger as the glass filled up to the brim. "You grow up watching movies of foreigners coming into USA and terrorizing ‘innocent' Americans." He picked up the glass and drank it slowly till it was empty. "You then try to fit that Hollywood narrative into real world scenarios." Pushing his chair back he stood up and Madeline looked at his face frightened. She was terrified and made no attempts to hide her fear. This man could see through her anyways.

"Come with me and I will show you the room." He said and walked towards the closed door.

She remained seated. He opened the door and gestured her to come and she did. He switched on the lights and held the door for her. She walked in her legs still shaking from the fear - and the guilt. He lead her to the fax machine besides which the file was placed. "I knew you would walk in here." He said. "I knew you would try the phone and the computer... and above all I knew you would pick up this file." He picked it up. "In fact, I wanted you to pick up this file an open it. AND ... I wanted you to think what you are thinking now so that I can show you how prejudice your American minds are."

"This is Shahnaz, my wife for two years. She was an airhostess in Iranian Airways. In 1986, USA shot down an Iranian passenger plane and killed 217 civilians on board. She was among them. This photograph was taken after her burnt body was recovered from the wreckage. She was five months pregnant!" He pulled out the picture of his wives mutilated corpse. "You people often look at angry demonstrations in the news. US flag being stomped on and you wonder why the world hates you ... this is why." He closed the file and placed it on the table. There was a moment of silence. He then turned his back towards Madeline and shoved a hand in his pocket. "I have shown you all that I have in here. You may leave." He said and lowered his head.

***

Senator Gifford woke up besides the naked feminine form. The comforter had fallen of to one side and he could see a completely naked Amanda Young. For a few seconds he admired the softness of her curves and the smoothness of her supple skin. He was used to waking up besides a fit and toned Madeline and the softness of this buxom Goddess was different. She looked extremely sexy lying in the bed like that. Her lips were slightly parted and her hair was messed up from the mindless fucking last night. With one hand on her stomach and the other above her head her ample bosom heaved with every breath she took. Suddenly Gifford felt his penis coming to life as he touched her thigh. He was about to bend over and kiss her in the mouth when suddenly his cell phone rang.

"Damn!" he said and picked it up. "Hello..."

It was Lt. Spencer. There was no news and this was the routine call of the police cheif explaining that they have been able to find no trace of his wife but things like these take their own time.

"I don't have any confidence in you guys. This case has to go to the military intelligence." Senator Gifford said rising up from the bed. "This is beyond regional police, this is even beyond the FBI! You don't know what you are dealing with here. These are international terrorists do you hear me??? We have to give this directly to the CIA these guys are INTERNATIONAL TERRORISTS!" He raised his voice causing Amanda to wake up. Taking his cell phone he moved out in the patio from where he could see the swimming pool.

"Senator... I know this is hard but as Chuck Gordon explained to you this is just ONE MAN ... sitting somewhere on a phone and a fax machine. This is no terrorist cell. There are none contrary to what the Government wants people to believe." There was silence and then Gifford spoke again. "The time that CIA and Delta Force will take to capture this guy, wont be any different than the time FBI and our local SWAT will take. Why kill a bug with an atom bomb when you can just step on him and squash em? We only have to find out where he is that's all."

An angry Gifford slammed the phone and came back in his room. Amanda was not in the bed anymore, instead the washroom light was on and he heard her singing. Gifford sat down on his bed and took a deep breath. Though Amanda was not in the bed but her fragrance was still in the sheets. As he sat on the bed in silence, Gifford realized that being patient about his wife was not as hard as he thought. In fact with a woman like Amanda Young it was not a problem at all. He had really enjoyed fucking her deep and cumming into her pussy. But he still wanted the case to be handled by the military rather than local law enforcement authorities. It was good for his political career. Mrs. Gifford rescued by local SWAT would make him look like a victim of regional crime rather than international terrorism. He had portrayed himself as the "soldier" of a politician and a rescue operation by US army's elite Delta Force would do wonders to him image.

He was busy with these thoughts when the washroom door opened and a freshly showered Amanda young appeared wearing a towel gown that had once belonged to Mrs. Gifford. He looked at her and smiled.

"Good Morning!" She said drying her damp hair. "Any news of your wife?" She asked.

He shook his head.

She turned her back to him and started combing her dark hair. After some time, she dropped her gown on the floor and stood completely naked in front of the mirror. Gifford looked at her smooth brown skin as she combed her hair completely naked. He noticed how wonderful her breasts looked from behind. Then she placed the hair brush on the table and started pinching her nipples. Amanda had large Dolly Parton style breasts that sagged just a little due to the sheer size. The sight of her playing with her breasts was enticing.

Gifford was feeling very horny. He was feeling horny from the sight this naked woman in front of him. He stood up and moved towards her. Minutes ago he had woken up and was naked himself. He went and stood right behind her admiring her chest in the mirror. Her nipples had gotten hard from the feel of her fingers. He placed his hands on her stomach and the moved them upwards till he was holding each melon. Cupping them tightly he lifted them up feeling the weight of each breast. She dropped her head back against his shoulder and closed here eyes. Pressing her breasts in his hands he started kissing the back of her neck. She jutted her hips back till they were pressing against his hard dick.

"Is that your ... cock Senator?" She asked.

"Hmmmmmmmm" Gifford was too busy kissing her neck.

The next moment she found herself bent on the dressing table with the tip of Gifford's swollen cock positioned between her pussy lips.

"Ohhh my God!" I can't believe you are hard again. She laughed in surprise because Gifford had fucked her three times last night. Her laughter turned into moans as Gifford's cock went into her. Burrying it deep inside her pussy Gifford paused for a bit and then pulled it out. He looked down at his throbbing penis coated with her juice. It stood up hard and proud dripping with her wetness. Gifford's cock then moved from her pussy hole up till it found her butt hole. "Oooh my goodness... you are not going THERE are you???"

Gifford answered by shoving his hardness in her.

She had never been fucked in the butt before and she bit her lips as his cock entered her. Gifford's hands cupped her breasts as his cock drove into her. Soon he was slamming in and out of her ass making her scream with excitement. One of her hands found her clit and she started finger fucking herself as the Senator fucked her ass. In the mirror Gifford was admiring the sight of her swaying breasts as he pounded her.

"You like it up the ass eh?" He said shoving it deep in there.

She turned her head back and they were kissing each other with their t0ngues with his cock buried deep. Then she felt his penis pulsating within her. He pulled it out and pressed it against the curve of her butt. She fingered herself to an orgasm and as he came over her butt several times, his semen going down her thighs.

Chapter 9:

"So what was she like?" Madeline asked him looking into his eyes.

He took a deep breath and fell back against the chair. The night sky was clear and they could easily see the shimmering stars.

"Very kind and soft." He said with a little smile in his face. This was the first time she had seen him smile. "When we had gotten married, she was so shy. She would blush every time I told her how lovely she was- that would make her turn red. It took her sometime to get used to that."

"Hey ... I never asked you your name." Madeline moved closer to him.

The question took him by surprise. He thought for some time before answering. "I am aware of that." His reply made it obvious that he did not want to give his name.

Madeline ran a hand through her blonde hair. "You know we Americans tend to see Middle Eastern people as very sexually reserved. On international flights I see a lot of women wearing veils and headscarves and wonder what they would be like with their husbands, in the privacy of their homes. How they would make love. Would they ever go to their men and kiss?"

Again the smile appeared on his face.

"Did she ever ask anything of you?" Madeline asked curiously.

"Ask???" He looked at her.

"Well ... its like I often ask my husband to make love to me a certain way, to kiss me a certain way, to touch me a certain way. Is it like that in your culture too? Do women talk to their husbands like that?"

He started laughing.

"If it is too personal its alright. You don't have to answer." She said and started looking at the stars.

They sat in silence on in the balcony with cool breeze blowing their hair. There were no streetlights for miles but it was a full moon and the visibility was relatively clear. Suddenly, he began to speak:

"Shahnaz was very reserved before our marriage. Even during the first few days of our marriage she was very reserved and nervous. She would literally jump at my touch. But gradually she opened up to my advances. No I don't think she ever asked me to make love to her a certain way but ... whenever she wanted to make love, she would wear a revealing dress in the house and put on some cologne and the way she walked around me and ...her body language, those kinda things would tell me she was in the mood for it. I would grab her and she would always say "You are too much or why cant you control yourself? And I would hold her and tell her that she looked so lovely there was no way I could control myself. She never told me to do anything specific to her but I knew it anyways. I knew what she wanted me to do."

"How???" Madeline rested her chin on her elbows.

"From the way she responded to certain advances." He said. "Just from her breathing and moaning I was able to tell what she liked." He then rested his head back against the chair and closed his eyes. "I knew she wanted to be carried to the bed. Every time I saw her dressed up sexy in the house, I would go and pick her up in my arms. She loved it. I would then carry her to the bed. Her breathing pattern would change and she would get so aroused ..."

Listening to him, Madeline began to compare this relationship with the one she had with her husband. She began to realize how different her own husband was. David Gifford was a good fucker no doubt but by the end of the day that is what he was - a fucker! This man on the other hand was a ‘lover.' So great was his love for Shahnaz that after her death he was taking on a super power single handedly. She wondered if her husband would do the same if she was harmed. The answer that came to her mind was not a positive one. She had known Gifford well and thus she wanted to change the topic.

"But women in your part of the world are oppressed. They are denied education, status ... basic necessities of life. Don't you think?"

This sudden twist in topic caught him by surprise. "That's right!" He said "But the cause of that is not what you people are raised to believe."

There was silence.

"Besides ... you have basic necessities of life, you have education and you have status. But ...were you not just minutes ago wishing you were in my wives shoes?"

Now Madeline was caught off guard.

"Isn't that why you changed the talk?" He looked at her closely. "Your system has abandoned you. He is not coming for you. Every morning you wake up and look out of the balcony to see if anyone is coming to get you. No one is coming. You were wanted as long as you were giving it. Now he is probably getting it from someone else. It is THESE values that your political leaders and corporate mafia try to export into the third world in the garb of ‘freedom'."

She kept looking at him. There was total silence except the sound of one of the dogs barking. They remained silent for some time.

"Are you very religious?" She asked him. "I have never seen you pray.'

"Another stereotype!" He responded looking away into the open night. "Nope I am not religious. One does not have to be religious to be at war with USA. He just needs to be just."

"But by defying USA you are making dictators like Saddam more powerful! Haven't you seen how he oppressed the Iraqi people?"

"Nonsense! Saddam was created by USA to fight against Ayatollah Khumeini of Iran. The chemical attacks that he carried out on the Kurdish villages was because he wanted to please the Americans. Kurds were pro-Iranian and US was anti-Iran at that time. That is why American media never even mentioned those attacks when they happened. You don't have to believe me. Check out the old issues of your own American newspapers. Get American newspapers from 1980s and go through them. You wont find any mention of Saddam's atrocities in them because your government was allied with him. These atrocities are being highlighted now because they justify invasion and occupation of that country."

"What happened to your neck?" She asked looking at him. The front two buttons of his shirt were open and she could see the wound inside. It was very similar to the scar that he had on his face, just longer. It went all the way down to his chest.

"Someone was not too fond of you." She said.

He broke his eyes from hers and looked away into the sky. The moonlight was falling on his lean face highlighting the edges. The shadows and the lighting made him look like stone statue.

"SAVAK" He replied.

"Huh?"

"Shah of Iran's Intelligence." He said. "During the days of the revolution, just before the over throw of the regime, almost everyone was picked up by these guys on the suspicion of militancy. They would take you to the police station and make you talk."

"Let me see that." She said.

"See what?"

"What they did to you. I want to see." She said.

"You sure?" He asked.

She nodded.

He stood up from the chair and began to unbutton his shirt. Soon he dropped it on the floor and stood in front of her bare-chested. He was lean and brawny with scars on his chest. They looked like knife wounds. Yet, unlike those pretty boys in the gym, his physique was built by enduring real world hardships. He had gone through tough times and his body showed. As he stood in the balcony displaying himself, golden light from the living room mixed with the moon light outdoors to enhance the edges and contours of his lean and masculine form, making him look like an expressionless bronze statue.

This little talk about him and his wife had made Madeline realize that he was not the emotionless machine he presented himself to be. He could feel and he had a heart. All this time he had been the dominant one- the strong and silent type who installed a certain degree of fear and respect in her just by remaining silent. He survived by creating a psychological wall between himself and the world but this time he stood naked in front of her, exposing not just his physique, but also the wounds proof of his vulnerability.

At that moment Madeline stood up. She was wearing a white shirt and blue jeans and as the wind blew against her, the shirt got pressed against her body giving him a breath taking view of her magnificent feminine form. Yet he stood motionless in front of her like a rock. She walked close to him and began to unbutton her shirt. Her trembling fingers worked on the buttons one after another till the last button was undone and her white shirt was gaped open revealing the black bra she wore underneath. She then dropped the shirt behind her and stood in blue jeans and black bra, running her hands over her firm and muscular stomach.

He looked at her closely studying her tight figure inch by inch. He could see that she had a body that had lifted weights. Her well-developed breasts though not exceptionally large were round and well proportioned. He was admiring her when she bent over and started pulling her trousers down. As she bent to take her jeans off, her white breasts swayed in the black bra giving him a hard on. When she stood up she saw that his trousers had a tent but he was still standing like a rock, motionless as ever. She was wearing her blonde hair in a bun. After getting rid of her trousers she untied her hair and shook her head allowing them to fall behind her shoulders.

Hi breathing had increased just from looking at her and she could now see his chest heave as he looked at her. She moved closer to him and touched his chest with her hands. Then she brought those hands down to his stomach. The next instant they kissed each other, lips pressing against lips. She then stepped back and looked down at his crotch. The tent in his pants had grown more and looked even harder that before.

Standing a couple of feet away she undid her bra, slid it off her shoulders and allowed it to fall between them. Bare breasted, she pinched her nipples causing them to harden even more. The next instant she bent over once again to remove her panties and her firm breasts swayed under her she removed them. Then shoe rose up completely naked and looked at him. Their eyes met for an instant and then she walked to him once again and he took her in his arms and kissed her passionately.

She then went down to her knees and pulled his trousers down. She then pulled his briefs till his cock sprang out in front of her face. It was a brown penis, hard and throbbing - so erect that the moment she took it in her hands it started pulsing. Taking the shaft in her hand she sucked on the bulbous head like a lollypop. After some time she started licking the shaft taking it deep in her mouth.

It had been a long time since he had felt a woman's lips around his cock and this woman seemed so good that he had to restrain himself from coming into her mouth. She would close her eyes and deep throat him and them pull her head back sucking all the way as she went.

He then grabbed her from the shoulders and picked her up. They looked into each other's eyes and then he gently caressed her blonde hair. "You are beautiful." He said to her. He was going to say something more but he felt her lips coming near and he greeted them with an open mouth. His arms went around her and as she kissed him deeply in the mouth he lifted her up from the waist. She wrapped her legs around him as he carried her inside the house. After laying her on the couch in the living room he looked down at her. Her blonde hair was messed up and with dark pink nipples pointing at the ceiling her chest heaved up and down as she breathed. She looked really lovely as she lay there looking at him.

"I don't want to return you to your husband." He said to her. But then he closed his eyes and thought about what he had said. When his eyes opened, he was looking down at her with undeniable lust. He parted her thighs and placed his the tip of his cock between the moist lips. This caused her to close her eyes and he pushed his cock in slowly.

"Ooh my Gawd!" She but her lips as he went in.

Soon his cock was buried in her pussy all the way up to the hilt. She opened her eyes and looked at him. He was kneeling over her with the same expression of lust in his eyes. He kissed her lips and then pulled his shaft out slowly. Then he pushed it back in once again and this time a little harder.

"Oohhh you feel so good." Madeline said as she closed her eyes again, enjoying the sensation his throbbing hardness had produced.

The next instant he was fucking her with smooth deep strokes, her moans of pleasure filling the room. As she moved back and forth under him to meet his thrusts, her firm breasts swayed back and forth. The sight was too much for him to handle and while maintaining the same pace of fucking he grabbed a swaying orb in his hands and pressed it gently.

The feel of his warm hand on her breast was too much for her to handle. As he pushed his cock into her she erupted into an orgasm. It was a very powerful orgasm and putting her arms around him she came like a freight train. As for him there was no stopping. He kept pounding into her heightening the pleasure of each eruption until she lay exhausted on the couch. Then he withdrew his pulsating cock from inside her and exploded, shooting loads of semen on her. It landed on her stomach, breasts and neck. She had never seen a man cum so much. He had been restraining himself since the death of his wife and all the tension was released in a long powerful eruption that left her amazed and covered all over with white stickiness.

But it seemed as if this was not enough, for he took her hand and kissed it.

He then lifted her up his arms once again and carried her to his own room. He had never taken her into his room but this time he carried her. After placing her on his bedding on the floor he kissed her deeply in the mouth and the rest of the night was nothing but a blur of sexual frenzy.

Chapter 10:

The next morning he woke up with her naked body pressed against his. Her head was on his chest and her blonde curls were brushing against his face. He lay there for a second pondering over what happened last night. The more he thought about it the more uncomfortable he became. He had been defeated! There was no other way of putting it. Since after the death of his wife, he had defined himself by his hatred of USA. This uncompromising hate was what he was living for. The idea of sharing his body with an American woman was ideological suicide on his part. It would have been a different if he had just fucked her. But he had made love to her and that changed the scenario. He had made love to her the way he used to make love to his wife.

Meanwhile she lay on him with her head resting on his chest. He eyes were open and she was lost in thought. All this time during her marriage, Gifford had been fucking her. It was emotionless animal like sex temporarily pleasurable but devoid of any feeling. This last night was so different. She felt so secure in his arms it seemed she belonged only to him. This bothered her very much for he was a kidnapper- a ruthless terrorist! How could he trigger such emotions in her? All her life she had been a racist from the inside. Middle Eastern people- she disliked the most. She had always perceived them to be backward, ruthless fanatics and here she was lying in the arms of this one man, who was no ordinary guy from Middle Eastern origin but the most wanted terrorist in USA. And, she was so comfortable in his arms that it worried her. She knew well that women are often attracted to men who defy social conventions. The mystical attraction that a "bad guy" generates has created lust in many women but this was not lust. As she lay in his arms thinking, she felt it was something more.

He brushed these thoughts from his mind. It was downright crazy for him to think that he was falling for this woman. She was the wife of an American policy maker and if the Government did not withdraw occupation forces from those lands, he would kill her. If they did agree on withdrawal it would be a major victory to his cause - but it would also mean the woman would have to be returned. In both cases she was to part with him and developing feelings for her made no sense.

Just then the phone rang. Freeing himself from her embrace he wriggled out of bed and rose up. Quickly putting on his briefs he made his way to the "forbidden" room. The door was open as usual. He went in and picked up the phone. A recorded voice asked for a password and he punched it in. The conversation that took place between them was in a foreign language.

"Hello" He said.

"Kaisa hai?" The voice asked.

(How are you?)

"Theek." (Fine)

"Baat sun... waqt guzar chukka hai. Ab us aurat ko maar dai."

(Listen... the time has passed. You must kill the woman.

There was silence.

The voice continued, "Kia tu sun raha hai? Us aurat ko qatal karna ho ga warna aaj ke baad sai koi dhamki nahi suni jai gi."

(Are you listening??? We will have to kill her or none of our threats in the future will be taken seriously.)

"Lekin hamari tumhari to yeh baat nahi hui thi ... tu nai to kaha tha ke hum us ko ek hafta rahain gai or phir Senator Jung kai khilaf taqreer dai ga aur phir hum us ki biwi wapas lota dain gay."

(But this is not what we had discussed earlier ... you said we will keep her for a week and then the Senator will give his speech against the war and after that whether the President pulls out or not we will return his wife to him.)

"Mujhai maloom hai main nai kiya kaha tha. Lekin woh to Jung kai khilaf nahi bol raha... who to aur is say faida utha raha hai jung ki himayat main. Hum nay ab yeh khatam karna ho ga or apni issat bachani ho gi

(I know but he is not speaking against the war. Look at the statements in the press. He is capitalizing on this in favor of the war. We have to end this and save our reputation.)

"Us ko qatal karnai sai who aur hero ban jai ga" (But killing her will make him a hero.)

There was silence. He then heard the sound of her footsteps. The door was opened and he walked into the washroom and closed the door. After sometime there was the sound of shower opening.

"Haan lekin mera bhai yeh sarai faslay hum or tum nahi kartay. Hamara tumhara kaam sirif hokum manna hai. Agar tum behes karo gai to company police ko dai dai go aur tumharai jaga koi aur aa jai ga. Baat mano or kaam karo. Hum tumhain chobees ghanto main mulk sai nikalwa dain gai."

(Yes but my brother you and I do not decide such matters. We are here only to execute orders. If you argue against a direct order the company will reveal ur position to the police. They will finish you. Do as you are told and we will get you out of this country in 24 hours. And make sure you separate her head from her body."

CLICK! The phone call ended and he stood still with the receiver in his hand. Killing her was never part of the master plan. Now that things had gone wrong they had chosen him to do the dirty work. He sat there and reasoned with himself. American troops were killing women and children on a daily basis in Iraq and Afghanistan. It was all explained away in the news as "unavoidable collateral damage" so why should he feel anything for this woman? If the thousands of civilian casualties in Iraq were collateral damage in a just cause then why can't the killing of Madeline Gifford be seen in the same light? After all he was not fighting for the occupation for nother country like the American troops were. Instead he was fighting for the "liberation" of his lands from an expansionist super power. He had to make them pay somehow.

He then opened his drawer and pulled out a knife. It was a historical Persian dagger that is generally used for decoration but he had sharpened it for combat. Then he reached under the table and pulled out a rope. It was a four feet lone rope, with a half-inch thickness. He needed that to tie her up. With the rope in one hand and knife in the other he went towards the washroom door and opened it. She had kept it unlocked and that made him realize the trust that she had in him. It was smoggy in the washroom and through the glazed glass he could see her naked body under the shower. The glass was glazed but he could still see the outline of her figure. He could not help but admire how perfect this woman was. He opened the glazed glass door and looked inside. Small drops of water went down the curves of her body as her nipples stood erect. The amazing sight brought his penis to life.

She opened her eyes from under the shower and looked at him standing naked, holding a rope and a knife. Her eyes then focused on his rising penis. From a flaccid state she saw it rise till it was semi erect. It swayed a bit as he moved under the shower with her.

"What is that knife for?" She asked him.

"You will soon find out." He said and stepped forward bringing his lips to hers. It was a series of kisses that started off gently but then became so passionate that he had his tongue deep into her mouth. Her arms went around his back and their tongues wrestled under the shower. This was the last time he was going to have sex with her so he wanted it to be a moment he would remember forever. Placing the knife on the floor he rose up with the rope in his hand and threw it around her body.

"Ooh be gentle..." She said as she felt the rope settle in the curve of her waist and hip.

He pulled her to him and kissed her once again. "I want to tie you up." He said.

"How?" She asked.

"With the shower rod." He said and raised her arms up. "Hold on to the rod." He said and she complied. Then he started tightening the rope around her wrists tying her hands against shower above her head. The water kept falling down her stretched body, finding its way from between the valley of her breasts.

Once she was fully tied he stepped back and looked at her. She had an amazing body no doubt, so firm and right from all the exercise she used to do. As her hands stretched above her head, he looked at how great her heaving breasts looked with water falling down. She was definitely a sight to behold.

He moved closer to her and then took her in his arms kissing her in the mouth with his tongue. Then he kissed and nibbled her neck and shoulders making her moan. She had her eyes closed as she let him enjoy her body. Soon she felt his warm mouth around her nipple. "Oohh that feels so good." She said as he sucked on her breasts one after the other. Soon he was down on his knees parting one leg from the other. She raised her right foot and placed it on his shoulder giving him a clear view of her vagina.

He inserted his middle finger in her all the way and brought it out quoted with her juice. The next instant he licked it and then brought his lips to her pussy. Soon he was licking her hanging from the shower rod she swung her legs around his shoulders and trapped his head between her muscular thighs. As he licked her she started tighten her thighs around his head.

"Ooh my goodness your tongue feels sooo good..." She moaned and squeezed his head between the well-muscled thighs.

The next instant she dropped her head back in pleasure and released his head, allowing his tongue to devour her pleasure spot.

"Mmmm.. I could never have imagined you would be soo good." She said gasping for breath.

When he stood up in front of her his cock was fully erect. He grabbed her from her waist and lifted her up from her hips. Grabbing the shower rod she pulled herself up and wrapped both her legs around his waist. Grabbing her from around her waist he gently slid her down till the tip of his cock was touching her opening.

"Oohh my goodness give it to mee..." She said wanting to dig her nails in his back but her hands were tied to the shower rod above so she could only express her desire by tightening her thighs around his waist. He lowered her from the curve of her waist and hips and soon she felt him penetrating her. She kept sliding down till she had taken him all the in to the hilt. As she opened her eyes he brought his face close to hers and kissed her deeply in the mouth. With his cock buried all the way into her this was the most electrifying kiss she had ever had.

The next instant he broke the kiss and started bucking his hips upwards, driving his cock into her. Unable to hold him she gripped the shower rode above in pleasure and pulled herself up and down over his body in rhythmic waves. With her arms tied above her head, she was a sight to behold, her shapely breasts going back and forth with every thrust. Soon he felt her vaginal muscles tighten around his shaft and she began to cum. Hanging from the shower rod she came in waves moaning and grunting as she spurted her juices over his cock. Her body moved moved in such wild rhythm that it felt as if she was undergoing electric shocks. This was too much for him to handle. He pulled his throbbing hardness out of her and shot his load. The sheer force of ejaculation caused his semen to shoot upwards and land between her breasts. The flowing water from the shower took the sperm from between the valley of her boobs down to her flat stomach and then down her muscular thighs till it disappeared on the wet tiles beneath her feet.

Out of breath she looked at him. He then bent downwards and picked up the Persian dagger that he had brought. She had seen it lie on the tiles below but had no idea what it was meant for. He picked it up and looked at her in the eyes.

"What are you going to do with the knife?" She asked his with a look of fear in her eyes.

"This is the last time I have made love to you." He said raising the knife above his head. She closed her eyes in fear and brought it down at with force.

When she opened her eyes the rope between her hands was cut. "You must leave this place now." he said throwing the knife and the rope away.

"What?"

"You must go to your husband." He said looking down at her feet. For the first time his face had a look of sorrow.

She had no words.

He looked up at her and said. "You are a free woman. Get dressed and go. Take my truck. Keep driving straight to the north and you will soon hit the railway track. Follow it West and you will know where you are."

"What about the dogs you have downstairs?"

"Don't look at them in the eyes and they wont hurt you." He said.

"And what about you?" She asked.

He gulped and looked down. "The last thing I wanted was to be held by a woman. You must leave ..."

Chapter 11:

The truck driver came out of Starbucks with a doughnut in one hand and coffee in the other. He was a big man with long hair and a bulging tummy. His truck was a huge blue truck similar to those that collected garbage in the city, the only thing different about his vehicle was the words "CNZ Contractors" and a 1-800 number written on the sides. It was going to be a long drive and he wanted to pick up some music from the rear end of the truck. Opening the rear he climbed in and went towards the black storage compartment. As he went down to his knees to open the latch, his eyes caught sight of this paper ball on the floor of the truck. He picked it up and felt like something was wrapped under all the paper. He removed paper wrapping and found a diamond ring, which was beyond doubt made of solid gold. The last paper wrapping had a few words scribbled on it. He examined the writing closely. It read the following:

"HELP! I am being held in the industrial area. I am in the gray building opposite the water tank.

Madeline Gifford"

"I'LL BE DAMNED!!!" He said and took out his glasses to get a closer look at the note. He was at the industrial area two days ago and his truck had been parked a few yards from the water tank and merely a few feet from the gray building.

Within an hour the note was lying on the desk of Ed Spencer the Police Chief. "So what do you think?" he asked Lt. Gordon who was examining the gold ring that came with it.

"Its genuine." He Gordon replied. "No one wastes expensive jewellery like this in a prank."

"I will get the Senator to identify it." Ed Spencer said picking up the phone.

"There is no need. We must not waste time. Let the SWAT hit the place before that guys moves somewhere with her." Gordon said placing the earrings back on the table.

The cell phone of Senator Gifford was ringing but he was paying no attention. His eyes were on the large breasts of Madeline Young who walked around in front of him in lingerie, he shoulders pulled back as usual and large breasts jutting outwards stretching the satin fabric to the max.

"You have an amazing chest." He chuckled.

She smiled and ran a hand through her hair.

It was a weekend and Gifford had driven to the stone house in the outskirts of the city. Amanda's late night visits to his mansion could get noticed and spoil the warrior image he was making for himself. Thus they had both decided that they would meet in this scenic stone house, miles away from the city. It was the same stone house in which he had brought Madeline for the honey moon three years ago. But this morning, he was lying on the bed stroking his hardness as this other woman, a buxom brunette walked around the place in revealing lingerie.

Unknown to them both, a worn out pickup truck stopped outside the compound of stone house. Madeline Gifford staggered out of the truck and looked around. After leaving the factory area Madeline had followed the directions that were given to her. She had intended to head straight for Gifford's mansion but something told her she should go to the stone house. Something inside her wanted to go to the stone house. Thus here she was in the compound of the stone house standing on the grass without any shoes. She had not worn any shoes when she had left thus she could feel the grass under her cold feet.

It was a foggy morning with grayish mist covering the trees. The fog was so dense that the upper portions of the trees were completely hidden. The only thing that could be seen of them were their trunks. There was a lake on one side but it was silent. There were no waves or movement of any kind in the water. The only thing Madeline could see amidst the fog was the outline of the boat that was tied to the jetty of the lake. She could make out the oar.

Then she saw the outline of the double story house. With sluggish footsteps she walked towards it. Her head was throbbing and she there was a strange drowsiness about her that made her sway with each step. As she got closer she could make out the red roof of the house. It was a red roofed mansion with gray stones and large windows. There was a rose garden in front of it with a large white water fountain. It was the same place where she had spent her wedding night with Gifford three years ago. This morning it looked so different. With the thick fog around it, it looked like a palace built in the clouds.

She went towards the wooden door and opened it. There was silence inside. The interior was exactly the way she had remembered, posh and well decorated with exotic furniture and plants. There was a red stone fireplace on one side but there was no fire. The room was dimly lit with natural light coming from the large glass window. She wanted to go to the window and see the view outside but was drawn instead to the large wooden clock mounted on the wall. She walked towards it and looked at it. It was a heavy clock with bold roman numeric against a white background- no doubt a priceless antique. For a few moments she stood motionless looking at the majestic clock.

As she was looking at the clock she heard a moan come from the upper story of the house. Slowly she walked up the stairs and came on the upper floor of the house where the bedroom door was left slightly open. It was the same bedroom where she had spent her wedding night with Gifford. There was laughter coming from the inside and it was a woman's laugh. She stood motionless for sometime. There were sounds of heavy breathing and moaning coming from the room. She listened to them for an instant and then started to walk towards the half opened door.

"Ohhh Yess that feels soo good." The woman's voice came again.

Madeline pushed the door slightly and peeked inside. A busty brunette was on her hands and knees on the bed and Gifford was fucking her. The neck of her lingerie had been pulled down to free her exceptionally large breasts. She moaned and groaned as Gifford fucked her from behind. It was the same bed on which she had spent the wedding night with this man three years ago. Yet this time, there was another woman there. She saw her husband's hands grab one of those swaying melons and kiss the back of her neck. The expression on the woman's face was of intense pleasure.

Madeline bit her lip and lowered her gaze. She did not want to be there anymore. Turning around she fled towards the staircase. The sound of her footsteps alerted the couple.

"Oohh David... there is someone in the house." The woman's voice said.

Madeline was out of the house in a second running towards the truck. When David Gifford came out of the house with a semi naked Amanda by his side, all that he saw was a pick up truck taking off from the compound of the stone house.

Tears rolled down Madeline's cheeks as she drove. "Oh David... why did you do this to me?" She said as she drove. It was a very painful feeling. She felt like she was alone in the world. She wanted to be held by a man who would make her feel protected. Some one who would make her feel secure. This time she was heading back to the industrial area. After nearly half an hour drive back she came to the industrial area but this time, it was not deserted as always. Instead she could see police vans and ambulances all over. There was a helicopter hovering above the scene as well. She got out of the van and ran towards the residential building.

"Excuse me Miss you can not go in there!" One police officer said trying to stop her but she pushed her way through him.

"Hey that is the Senator's wife." She heard some one say.

There were SWAT officers on the other end of the fence. With automatic weapons they walked all over the place. When she got to the fence she saw blood on the ground. In sheer panic she looked around and saw the dogs lying dead a few feet ago. They had been shot multiple times by the SWAT. This sight of blood made her sink to her knees by the fence. A female officer came and tried to raise her to her feet but she was in a trance like state staring at the entrance of the apartment. Officers were trying to talk to her but their words did not register. Suddenly some SWAT officers came from the building entrance with a stretcher. The man lying on the stretcher was the same man who had held Madeline in his arms this morning and then given her his truck. He was covered in blood. The sheets that was put over him was also red with blood.

"Ohhh my GAWD!" Madeline sank to her knees again. "You killed him!" She said and began to cry. "You killed him you fucking bastards ... you shot him." She said as she started to cry hysterically. An officer approached her with a blanket and covered her. Medics and a few officers gathered around her but she continued to cry as if she was alone in the world.

A MONTH LATER ...

The sunset looked awesome from the beach. The gray and orange shade of the sun mixed so well with the shimmering ocean blue that the scene was breathtaking. There were a few boats near the coastline but they could only be seen in a silhouette because of the setting sun. There was no one on the sandy beach except one couple. The woman, a blonde in orange sweater was spread out on the sand and with the long haired man lying next to her. Totally ignorant of the scenic ocean sunset they were busy talking to each other."I love you Madeline." He said looking into her deep blue eyes. To him they were more beautiful than the sunset at the ocean. She looked up at his lean and strong face, the strong jaw line and deep set eyes.

"I thought you could only hate." She said.

"Deep down inside every revolutionary is motivated by a great feeling of love." He replied.

They looked at each other in silence.

"You look so lovely ..." He said caressing her blonde hair. "I want to make love to you."

There was silence.

"If you had died that day at the police raid, I would have died there with you." She said taking a deep breath.

"What exactly did your husband say when he saw you?" He asked looking into her eyes..

"He did not have anything to say. I saw him screwing this bitch in the stone house. When I said I would expose him in the press he started barganing and offering me lots of money to remain silent."

"And you asked him to let us both get out of USA?"

"Yes." She said. "To a country of our choice."

"You chose Maldive Islands?"

"You were in the hospital and they wouldn't let me see you so I had to make a decision."

"Well it was a good decision. Look at that sunset." He turned his face towards the orange sun that was barely peeping from the horizon. "It was good for his political career to have both of us dead. But killing us was not possible so he agreed to have us sent abroad to a country of our choice with a million dollars. If you read American newspapers, the story they give to the public is that Madeline Gifford was murdered by a terrorist and the terrorist was killed in a SWAT raid. It is a story that suits Gifford and it's a story that suits American foreign policy."

"Actually, it's a story that suits you and I too." She said and pulled his face towards her till her lips were pressed against his. "How is the bullet wound?" She asked.

"Getting better." He replied.

"Good... soon you will be able to pick me up in your arms and carry me to the bed."

"That I can do even now."

"Oh no don't even try it ... you will hurt yourself."

Without paying attention to her he rose up and lifted her up in his arms like he used to lift his wife once. Her protests turned into laughter as he carried her across the white sands towards the small beach hut. Soon the beach lay deserted. The sun had gone down leaving a gray and orange sky. There was no one on the each except for his lone footsteps leading to the bamboo hut by the shore.

Note: It took courage to write this story. I am sure it must have taken courage on your part to read it. Whatever your thoughts are let me know. I don't do this for money. The only motivation I have is reader' feedback.