Introduction
For those who skipped the first part of the story: Jenny had left her wild interlude with the General behind and was heading back to the routine of research and academia. However, everything was not to go so smoothly and Jenny was about to learn something that would become very important in her life.
*
I woke early and showered contentedly. The interlude had been pleasant but it was time for me to become the career doctor again and return to the corridors of academia and research. I took breakfast in my room, a little sheepishly because I actually didn't want to say goodbye to The General, and slipped down after everyone had left for the conference to check out and take a taxi to the airport. Everything seemed quiet and I was a little surprised I had not received a knock on my door. Strangely, that made me discontent - it seemed out of character for the General, who had been so direct earlier. Perhaps he had accepted the inevitable Friday departure.
Shrugging the feeling of faint regret away I headed to the Customs Barrier to present my passport and tickets. The long queue shuffled forward and finally I faced the dark faced, uniformed Customs Officer. He took my passport and ticket, asking my name as he glanced at the passport. He paused and took a long look at the passport. For a moment I thought my changed flight details were giving him cause to double check passport and itinerary, but he unsmilingly shut my passport and gestured to the right, where two other customs officers stood. "Please accompany these officers, Doctor."
My startled look and the beginning of a question were cut short as the one of the men gently took my arm and steered me away from the curious eyes and ripple of interest from the waiting queues. Annoyance built at this cavalier treatment and I said to myself if this was the General's idea of a joke I'd have a few words to say, but I kept telling myself it must be the changed flight details as we walked in silence to an interview room.
I turned to ask for an explanation, only to have the door close firmly behind my escort. The empty silence of the room pressed in and I felt the first stirring of doubt - just what the hell was going on? Falling back on my usual pragmatism I settled down to wait in the wooden chair next to the small table. It was nothing, I kept telling myself, and contemplated getting the laptop out to start reviewing a paper destined, or maybe not depending on my decision as to its merit, for a scientific Journal.
However, the slight unease prevented me from doing so and I found myself pretending to go over my conference notes, making meaningless corrections along the edge of the notepad. I wondered when someone would come back or if they would come back before I really needed to visit the "Ladies." Annoyance faded to calmness as I worked on familiar thing and I didn't even bother to look up as I heard the door open, merely remarking, "I really would like to ring my Embassy NOW."
The door closed, but there was no answer and I looked up a little crossly. "Jxxxx, thank goodness. Just what is going on?" I stood up, all thoughts of having a few words about his arrogant way of ensuring I said goodbye gone. I was just pleased to see his solid dark shape, even if he was in unfamiliar crisp green colours of an army uniform. He padded over to the table and looked at me, his face impassive.
"Doctor," he began. The look and tone of his voice alerted me to something. What that something was I wasn't quite sure, but a sudden wave of cold weakness ran from the pit of my stomach down my legs and up to my throat and I found myself sitting in the chair, hands resting on the table to still them.
"Jxxxx--" I tried again but he was not being very helpful.
"You were reluctant to use that name earlier," he interrupted and continued coolly, "You won't use it again
"Then tell me what's going on, why am I here?"
He sat on the table next to me and looked down. "You were going to leave without saying goodbye. I can't allow that."
How could he not allow that, I wondered. Then it hit me - he could, he had. Here in his country he was an important man and this country was not like mine. Different history, different culture, different rules. Here I could disappear and, apart from an initial flurry of desperation from the Embassy, it would all die down in a week or two. I'd be just another woman who had refused to take travel advice about "dangerous places to visit." The realisation didn't take that long to sink in - I was in trouble.
"General, what do you want?" I looked up at him, appealingly I hoped, and shifted my hand to rest on his uniformed leg. He was quiet for a long time and I found myself actually too frightened to move. The fear was like a solid ball in my throat, so tight I actually thought I would not be able to speak, even if he demanded it.
"Tell me you want my black cock so badly you'd fuck me here across the table if I permitted it."
_________________________
The solid ball of fear got bigger and I found myself staring at the one way mirror/window at the other side of the room. My white face and startled eyes were reflected back at me but who, I wondered, might be watching through the glass. The General sighed heavily and stood up. He walked away, towards the door and I realised he'd walk through and leave me if I didn't do something. "Jxxxx...." The thoughts tumbled, I shouldn't say that, oh god, what should I say. "General, please." The wooden chair clattered to the floor as I jumped up and took three desperate steps across the space between us to cling to his hand. He turned in response to the fear in my voice and eased his hand from my grip to fold his arms across his chest, looking down at me without smiling, his black eyes unreadable.
"I.... Oh shit.... Jxx.... General, please, this is a joke and it's not funny."
But it wasn't a joke. The hard look in his eyes told me that and, unable to stop myself, my knees buckled and I slipped to my knees, my hands dragging down his body to support my weakness. The room stopped swinging and I found myself leaning against his legs, wishing desperately that I didn't feel so much like a frightened little girl. With effort I convinced myself there was some steel in my body and looked up at him. It didn't help, because he loomed over me, distant and remote, and his face told me I only had one choice.
"General," I whispered. "Fuck me, fuck me now."
Once I said it I realised it was true. I could feel the heat between my legs and wondered why, in this dingy interview room, with this man standing over me, I was becoming aroused. Recollection that there might be someone watching through the one way mirror only made my nipples harden and my hands tightened on his thighs before I could control the wave of need that washed over me.
