Prolog
A couple of years ago, I fell hard for an aging, beautiful, intelligent, blond stripper, named Gina. I didn't see her as a stripper. She was a woman that I wanted to get to know outside the bar scene, be her friend and maybe even her lover. Sounds pathetic but it was true. She said all the right things to string me along. She accepted my gifts, gave all of her body and lips to me at bar but broke all our outside dates. I quit going to the bar on the nights she worked. Seeing her was too rough on me. Gina had her life well ordered; she did not need any disruption from my friendship; and she got enough attention from her numerous drooling, young, studly admirers. She didn't need any attention from a much older man.
Three months ago, a mutual friend told me that Gina had disappeared into the small, rich, mid-East island country of Albai. Seems the Sultan's thirty-five-year-old son, Prince Tulan, had taken a fancy to her and invited her to visit him for a wonderful vacation. Showing infinitely bad judgment, she had gone.
Now, I needed to prove my judgment could be as bad as Gina's. I was bored, financially well off and had never been to Albai. I decided to go look for her and started by calling in some old markers from my many years as a Siemens' executive. My B.S. in Electronics, MBA and five years running a design and manufacturing operation for utility control equipment helped. Soon, I had a cover and a reason to meet Tulan. My study uncovered that he was very powerful, was quick to use all his power and was known to have a sadistic side, especially with women. I definitely wasn't proud of it but I had briefly embraced that dark side in Viet Nam forty years ago.
Showing the Dark Side
Unexpectedly, a long white custom Mercedes limousine was waiting on the tarmac when my plane touched down in Albai at 9 a.m. Plans had been changed; I would be staying at one of Prince Tulan's villas. All my hotel reservations and in town meetings had been canceled. Tulan did not want to waste time traveling or be inconvenienced by strange surroundings while we discussed his elaborate plans to bring healthy running water and electricity to all the homes in his country. He even wanted personal control of the central automation and management of those utilities. My suite was lavish; a lunch for one was already waiting. A note said to be prepared; I would be summoned at the Prince's convenience.
A little before one, I was ushered into Tulan's massive, windowed office. A black African girl of about 18 knelt at his feet. She had obviously displeased him. He slapped her hard. Tulan grabbed her hair and pulled her over backward as he walked toward me. She fell clumsily and hard. To Tulan, she was trash, dumped on the floor and already forgotten. He knew I had watched. Without making eye contact, he bypassed any greeting, "You do not approve of my actions, Mr. Carter."
"To the contrary, Your Highness. I was admiring how you restrained your anger and disciplined the young female. She is lovely and desirable. With your strong hand, she may learn to please you." His deep, evil black eyes looked straight at me, trying hard to decide if I were just trying to cater to him.
"What does a Westerner know of such things? Westerners do not know how to control their women. Your women laugh at you and disrespect you."
I knew this was my first test and I had to pull this off. "Your Highness rightfully has absolute control in His country. You own that beautiful girl. It is her place to serve and surrender to you. You can punish her as severely and as painfully as you please. You are correct, in the West, we men have lost most of the control we should exercise over our women. However, there are some western men and women who know their proper roles and understand the pleasures of dominance and submission."
"I doubt that, Mr. Carter, maybe, we'll have time to see what you know. Now let's work on the utilities for my country."