Please email me with your comments or suggestions, as I appreciate readers when they take the time to email. This short story was written for a special person and I hope these fantasies excite and satisfy her.
I receive many requests from loyal readers to do stories for them but it takes me weeks to do a story properly. After receiving this request from Michelle, I decided to try doing a real short story for her and see if it comes off okay. See what you think.
*
The week began at a furious pace. Elections happened with Sarge ensuring Rodney saw only what the junta wanted him to see. Rodney was obligated to observe all polling stations and he had to confirm that everything was conducted according to international protocol.
Sarge kept him occupied many hours a day in the capital city before they were scheduled to visit some outlying villages. Things were done merely for appearances sake, as the election outcome was really a foregone conclusion. The international community reasoned that the country was more democratic, but most of the tribal people still lived under strict, dictator rule.
Rodney was extremely relieved when Sarge told him about the plan to inspect polling stations in remote villages near the capital. "Capital city is done. Now we go villages... one is village where I come from," Sarge informed Rodney. "Not take long... we check election stations. Wife come, too. Michelle needs to see country... visit real people."
It seemed like an eternity since Rodney had seen Michelle. He longed for her every waking hour, overly concerned about her safety. It was early in the morning when the limo pulled up at the hotel to pickup Rodney and the couple was finally together again. When the backdoor opened and he saw his wife, Rodney felt the biggest wave of relief.
Rodney quickly got into the limo and he put his arm around Michelle's shoulders, hugging her close. "I've missed you, but I fully understand. You don't have a choice... so let's do whatever the bastard wants. Then maybe he will let us go," he whispered. "I guess we are making a visit to a small village... the one that Sarge, himself, comes from."
Sarge didn't tell Rodney much other than they were going to the village where he was raised. The visit was planned to coincide with Rodney's election scrutiny so that he could ensure all the voting procedures were carried out properly. They drove through the barren countryside until the antiquated dwellings came into view. Michelle cringed at the obvious poverty, as nothing looked modern, from old outdated automobiles to ancient houses. The temperature was extremely hot and there always seemed to be dust in the air.
The limo drove into what looked like the center of the village, as there were many tribal men, women and children mulling around a large statue. Sarge, along with three of his security guards, got out of the car and one of the guards escorted Rodney and Michelle out into the bright sunshine. Michelle licked her lips trying to freshen them from the parched air. She glanced around noting that most of the men wore scant clothing designed for the hot weather and the women wore long dresses that were mere wraps of bright colored cloth.
Without much ado, Sarge ushered the couple to a building next to the village square. "This is where we voted... please go over everything. The voting slips are in that metal box over there," he said waving his hand at a large container sitting on a table. "It will take you an hour or two to check... check everything. See if all was done according to American standards."
Then Sarge led Michelle and a small group to another building leaving Rodney to do his work. There was a small gathering sitting around a large table and the table was set up with food galore. Everyone stopped eating when Sarge entered with his guests. "This beautiful woman is Michelle... and she will be our guest," he said in his native dialect. "Please... sit and let's eat."
Sarge directed Michelle to a seat and he sat down next to her. Although she wasn't very hungry, Michelle tried to put on a brave face. She slowly glanced around the room, taking note of her surroundings. The table was long and quite narrow and the top was covered with various local foods. Besides Sarge and herself, there was an elder who appeared to be head of the village. Also sitting at the table were a half dozen young men who looked like tribal warriors. She looked closer at the men and noted that three of them were dressed differently than the other three. Also the three were definitely a little older plus they had numerous tattoos covering their bodies whereas the younger three were clean-shaven and without any body markings.
Sarge noticed Michelle looking around so he decided to explain a few things. "The older gentleman is Zuberi and he is the chief... leader of our tribe. We are the highest-ranking tribe in the country and all of the political leaders come from our village. The experienced, most trusted men of the tribe are sitting on Zuberi's right and they are full-fledged warriors of the tribe. The others are almost ready... and they will be initiated, as true warriors this week. It is a special ceremony and one that you American's would find interesting," Sarge said with a devilish wink.
He looked at the beautiful woman with a wide, knowing smile covering his ruggedly handsome face. The food was passed around the table and Michelle reluctantly took some fruit and bread so as not to offend anyone. After what seemed like an eternity, she started to relax a little and felt slightly more comfortable. Then a glass with a reddish drink was passed to her, which at first taste seemed very sweet, but tasteful. Sarge encouraged her to drink and even toasted her a couple of times, but Michelle found nothing strange about his actions.
Another hour passed and suddenly Sarge whispered at her. "I must go... Rodney should be almost done his inspection," he said. Sarge stood to leave and sternly motioned for Michelle to remain seated. "You enjoy Zuberi's company. You know... these men consider you a goddess... a true African goddess. And they deem it the highest honor to be with you... in your presence."
Michelle didn't want to stay in the strange room; yet she didn't have enough courage to refuse Sarge's request. Even though she hated the man, she felt a pang of anxiety when Sarge departed leaving her with his tribal friends. All of the men continued to talk loud and boisterous while she tried to be as inconspicuous as possible. It seemed quite natural to pick away at the fresh fruit and sip from her glass, which seemed to mysteriously fill-up all the time.
The sound of a car's engine sent a shiver of panic up her spine. Michelle quickly stood up to look out a window and she noticed Rodney, Sarge and his guards getting into the limousine. Everything got very quiet, as she watched the car drive away in a trail of dust. Michelle desperately wanted to run after it knowing she was in a dire situation. She stood near the window with all of the men around her and each warrior had a big grin on his dark, rugged face.
All of a sudden Zuberi took her arm and led her away. Her legs wobbled so bad that Michelle had a hard time walking, as the elder ushered her into another room of the African abode. A thousand frightening things were running through her head and it all made her totally confused and bewildered. She was in a rural African village with men and women who didn't speak English and she didn't know any of them.
Zuberi took her into a room, which looked neat, but it was extremely hot and dry. Michelle looked through teary eyes at a large wooden table, which was fully set up for some kind of celebration. There were four women standing at a stove in one corner of the room; three kids that appeared to be teenagers sitting against one wall, and two small children were playing on the floor. It all appeared like a large, family get-together but Michelle didn't feel like being friendly.
Her initial urge was to run or put up a fight. Suddenly she determined that any resistance would do no good. Michelle grudgingly allowed Zuberi to sit her down at the table and quickly all the seats were taken by the same bunch of nearly naked warriors who she met earlier. The three older tribal warriors sat across from her and Michelle noticed Zuberi had taken his rightful place at the head of the table. Then everyone started talking at once and it was all a foreign language to her so nothing made sense. It was a matter of her reading the crude gestures and Michelle quickly determined that they were going to eat.
Michelle followed the lead of the three men across from her and ate what they ate, although not as much. The native food of the villagers was completely unfamiliar to her and her stomach felt queasy eating such strange food. One, and then another, of the men would make gestures that she try certain items and they rubbed their tummy's indicating the food was very tasty. Suddenly one of the men motioned for her to take a drink and Michelle followed his directions. The drink looked very similar to the one she had earlier and she really didn't think anything strange about a slightly different taste. It actually quenched her thirst for the time being so she drank with a thirst from the desert-like air.
The meal lasted for the longest time and then everyone started getting up from the table. Michelle suddenly realized a dilemma so extreme she almost passed out. When she tried to stand, her legs were entirely uncooperative. It was like standing on rubber limbs and buckling knees. Instantly she realized the drinks were most likely drugged. Nothing seemed funny, but she found herself laughing even though her mind was in great turmoil.
Zuberi sat back down in his royal chair and watched with a grin of approval on his excited face. He shouted orders to everyone. Swiftly, all the younger men who were not old enough or experienced enough to be true warriors were forced to leave the room. Also, all of the women and children were ordered to leave which left only a handful of men with Michelle in the sweltering room.