1 comments/ 17225 views/ 4 favorites Victoria's Fall By: nicecthulhu Please note that this story is a sequel to Holly's Winter, Cecee's Spring and Jenny's Summer. Cecee's Spring has not been written as yet. I appreciate all votes, comments and feedback. I am looking for an editor. I I find I must begin my own story with someone else's. Her name was Victoria Smart. She was a very beautiful woman of average height and slim, with long, dark hair, dark eyes with long lashes, full, pink lips and delicate facial features. Her body had an elegant and very female beauty that in ages past would have made her a rival to Helen or Cleopatra in the desire that she inspired. In addition to this, she was no mere empty shell. Her mind was clear and quick and her character was beyond reproach. Perhaps some might think her promiscuous, or even a slut, when reviewing her past relationships, but she was the type of woman that men dreamed of and she knew it and she saw no reason not to enjoy herself and bring pleasure to others while she sought what life had to offer. In some ways she was an innocent, even though she was already in her early twenties when I first encountered her. It was her fine character that induced Santa Claus to show up at her apartment on Christmas Eve and whisk her away to the North Pole. It was an invitation she relished, as it took her away from her boring job at a municipal library in Halifax. Once at the North Pole, she settled in with the other women Santa had chosen to be his companions. She embraced the opportunity to have sex with this legendary figure, thinking it was a chance for her to find love. Despite the warnings of her friend Holly, Victoria believed the lies of an elf woman named Titania. It wasn't until everything was out in the open that Victoria realized what good friends Holly and the others had been to her. At that point, her life took a turn for the better as she and the other young women cooperated to protect the North Pole from invading Russian sailors. Victoria was a key part of the four woman team that infiltrated the submarine and then commandeered it. She was also instrumental in ensuring that Holly and Doug, the new Santa Claus, discovered how much they really cared for each other. Victoria Smart was quite a woman. She still is. II Sergei was becoming adept at recognizing the signs of melancholy in a young woman that pointed towards a need for a lifestyle change. First it happened with Jennifer and then with Victoria. However, Sergei was also the type of man that understood long-term happiness often did not coincide with short-term happiness. "You need a change...a vacation, Victoria." They were both dressing for breakfast. The morning meal at the North Pole was communal and relaxed and as a result, there was no hurry to begin breakfast by a certain time each day. "Like Jenny did? I don't want to leave you in the lurch, Sergei. I've liked being with you. I've liked it a lot." As Victoria brushed her hair, Sergei came up behind her and rested his hands on her shoulders. "I know. But neither of us is going to like the other's company for much longer, I fear. It is time for us to move on." Victoria sighed. "I know. I'll talk to Doug after breakfast and see if he can take me back to Halifax. I haven't seen my folks since I first came up here eight months ago. They're probably worried sick about me." "You did call them in the spring to tell them you were all right. Also, I am sure they saw you on the news during all the trouble that Cecee and Yuri had at the United Nations." "Yes, that certainly convinced me that I just wasn't cut out for being an ambassador, although Holly and Doug did offer me a position." Victoria sighed again. "I feel so useless sometimes, Sergei. Holly helps Doug in so many ways and she came up with the plan to take over your submarine." "Oh, the hard work of her soldiers should have paid off in a medal for each," said Sergei with a wink. She set her brush down in front of the mirror and pushed his hands from her shoulders. "They don't give medals for having sex with the enemy, Sergei." "You used what weapons you had available." "Besides, Cecee is doing so much at the U.N. and Jenny and her friends stopped that horrible monster. What have I done? Nothing! I should be contributing but I don't know how best to do so." She hugged herself. Sergei lifted her chin. "Victoria, you ask too much of yourself. You are only twenty-four. Soon, you will come to a realization about what your purpose should be and then you will do it. Be patient. But do go visit your family and recharge yourself mentally. When you come back things will seem much clearer to you." "You are a great guy, Sergei. I wish we were in love." "Yes, it would be nice if we were, but we're not and it is best for us to part ways before the little idiosyncrasies we each have taint our mutual fondness." III Victoria did talk to Doug after breakfast and late in the afternoon they both loaded up Santa's sleigh with her belongings and after several tearful goodbyes, the reindeer pulled them into the sky. Neither Victoria nor Doug felt like talking as they flew southwards to the Maritime Provinces. Victoria, bundled up against the cold, had time to think about how to say goodbye to Doug. She had made a play for him when they had first met and he had turned her down politely but effectively. That had been a first for her and though she would never act on it, she often wondered what being with Doug would be like. He was as good a man as Sergei and Yuri. Two of them were out of her reach and the third she had not fallen in love with and likely wasn't going to. She was still brooding over these thoughts when she saw the lights of Halifax in the darkness below. She directed Doug to the suburb where her parent's home was and he landed on the street directly in front of the old house. Victoria pulled back the hood and undid the buttons on her long, grey, winter coat, given to her by the ancient elf woman, Breeleigh. Doug set her suitcases on the sidewalk and then hesitated. "I felt so sad saying goodbye to everyone at the North Pole, Doug. And now I have to say goodbye to you. When I first met you I hoped that maybe we could have been a couple." "Maybe, but Holly had my heart from the first night I met her." "Yes, your 'lingerie model'. If I'd known that was what it took..." she teased. "You'll be missed, Vicky. If or when you ever decide to return to the North Pole, please let us know. You will always be welcome there. Also, Jenny and Cecee both wanted me to pass on invitations to visit them. And, Breeleigh and Puckrin also wanted me to inform you that there will always be a faerie nearby keeping an eye on you, so if you ever need help simply call out for it." Doug stepped forward and hugged Vicky tightly. "You're a brave and smart woman, Vicky. Whatever you set your mind to accomplish you will succeed at. And if we at the North Pole can be of any help, simply let us know." Victoria hugged him back and then heard a commotion behind her. She let go of Doug and turned to find her middle-aged parents standing on their porch and staring at the two in wonder. Neighbours were staring out open doors and windows of their own houses. She could hear a couple of excited children shouting, "it's Santa Clause! He's early!" She and Doug laughed and then he climbed back up onto his red sleigh. He waved at the houses around them, and then he gave Victoria a wink as he flicked the reigns to urge the reindeer to pull the sleigh away into the night sky. Everyone silently watched the magical vehicle disappear. Then Victoria picked up her bags and walked up to her parent's house. They greeted her warmly and had a thousand questions for her. The three talked late into the night and Victoria nearly fell sleep in her chair before her mom and dad sent her off to her old room. She changed into a nightgown, snuggled into the bed and quickly went to sleep, untroubled by doubts. The next day the family had several visitors, all of them curious about Victoria's involvement at the North Pole. She found the attention uncomfortable, but politely answered what questions she could. Late in the day, one of her old friends came by to invite her out for drinks and dancing. Victoria was eager for the change of pace. She had always enjoyed being out at local bars with her friends and sure enough, she found herself having a wonderful time at the pub that her friends had picked out for their reunion party. The music was loud and the dance floor was full. The mix of men and women was about equal and Victoria managed to find herself quite a few dance partners. One in particular held her attention. He was tall, fairly well built, fair-haired, blue eyed and well groomed. He was articulate and confident and she saw a few of the other ladies frowning when he asked her for a second dance. He wasn't a great dancer, but he was enthusiastic and laughed at his own occasional clumsiness. After their second dance, she brought him back to her friends to chat a short while. "Oh, we all know Bob," said Lizzy, rolling her eyes. "He's my cousin from Fredericton. He's a business lawyer." At Victoria's questioning glance, Bob nodded. "So what brings you down to Halifax, Bob?" Vicky asked, speaking into his ear. "I'm opening up another firm here. Business is good. So what do you do for a living, Vicky?" Victoria gave him a look and then stared at her friends, who were all hiding their laughter behind their hands. Bob looked a little uncomfortable that they were all having a joke, apparently at his expense. "I don't have a job right now. I've been unemployed since last Christmas." Can he really not know, she wondered? "Oh." Victoria immediately regretted bringing their conversation to a potentially sad topic. She opened her mouth to explain, but Bob interrupted her. "They're playing a slower song, now. What say we find a nice spot on the dance floor and chat a little more?" She smiled and offered her hand. He led her to the middle of the dance floor and then gave her a crafty look. Victoria stood innocently, holding his hand and hoping he would find a more private dancing area so they could cuddle while they danced. He seemed to read her mind. He diverted her to the edge of the dance floor, where there was more shadow then lighting. He put his hands on her hips and pulled her close. "That's sad that you don't have a job right now." "It's not too bad. I've just moved in with my folks and I'll find something to get by." Victoria moved her hands up his arms, over his broad shoulders and up to his neck. She let her fingers idly play with his short hair. He smiled down at her and she tugged gently on the back of his neck. Bob followed the hint, leaned down briefly and they kissed. It was a quick, tentative kiss and then their lips parted and they both looked around shyly to see if they had caught anyone's attention. His hands moved up to her bare back. Her top was a sparkly material that covered her from the base of her throat to her jeans in the front, but in the back two strings, one around her neck and the other across her back near her lower ribs, was all that she wore. They gyrated their hips in a slow synchronized motion. Victoria loved dancing and had very little practice over the last several months. The way Bob was smiling he seemed to be enjoying himself, as well. Victoria raised her arms over her shoulders and did a mock belly dance for him, while slowly rotating. When she was facing away from him, his hands went to her hips and he held her in place. Her heartbeat quickened and she backed gently in to him so that her butt was rubbing against him as she continued to undulate. He held her in this position for a short while, enjoying the friction and the very suggestive contact, and then his hands rose along her hips. She gasped, but managed to keep her rhythm as his hands slipped under her top to her stomach and then slowly continued their way up. Her bottom stayed in contact with his pelvis, now, as she let his rhythm take over the dance. Sweat beaded on her skin and she licked her lips in anticipation. His hands met the bottom of her breasts. His fingers tentatively touched their way over her roundness until at last he cupped a breast in each hand. Victoria could feel her nipples hardening under his fingertips and let her head roll back onto his shoulder. Her eyes closed and she murmured, "that feels so good, Bob." He played with her breasts, teasing her nipples and lifting and squeezing her boobs until she felt like her top would fall to the floor. She could feel the bulge in his pants through her own jeans. She opened her eyes and saw they were still a little isolated from the rest of the dancers, but the dance floor was not private enough for what she wanted now. She continued to grind her butt against him as sweat dripped along her forehead and down her neck. Bob was breathing deeper and in time with the rhythm of their hips. Oh, we really have to find someplace more private, she thought. She disengaged his hands from her breasts and turned around in his arms. She stood on her tiptoes and pulled his head to her until they kissed and this kiss was unmistakeably passionate and full of promise. She let go of his head and looked into his eyes. As if reading her mind, he said, "why don't we find somewhere more private, Vicky?" "Yes," she agreed, huskily. She took his hand in hers and intertwined their fingers. They moved across the dance floor, both of them full of an almost giddy anticipation. Her friends saw them and she gave them a quick and dismissive wave with her free hand. Lizzy gave her a 'thumbs up' signal and then turned to talk to a man who had just brought her a drink. Victoria and Bob left the club and stood outside the entrance uncertainly. A few passers by were using the sidewalk, but no one seemed to notice them. "I guess your place is out of the question?" he asked. "Parents," she reminded him. "My car is a block that way. The parking lot looked pretty deserted when I parked there," he suggested. At her raised eyebrow he added "I'm staying with Lizzy's folks until I move into my place at the end of the month." "The car it is, then." They walked quickly, with that urgency that tells your partner that you are a little afraid he or she might change their mind. Sure enough, the parking lot was poorly lit and deserted. His car was a small, expensive, European sports car that she guessed had cost him at least one hundred thousand. Victoria did wonder how they were going to be able to do anything inside the small car though. The sudden sigh from Bob made her think he had just come to the same realization. "It is fairly warm," she suggested, "and we don't have to take everything off." Bob smiled at her, walked her around to the back side of the car and pushed her against it. He lifted her top, exposing her large, pale globes and kissed her lips. Victoria's hands went down to his pants and she struggled with his belt and zipper. He broke the kiss. "You know, you can live at my place once I've moved in. You don't have to find a job. I'll take care of everything." Victoria giggled as she undid his pants and then began massaging his erection through his boxers. "No, I'm getting a job. I have to support myself. And living with you is rushing it a bit, don't you think? Maybe in a week or so I'll come visit you up in Fredericton for a weekend." His hands stopped kneading her tits. "No. You'll have to stay in Halifax. I'll see you when I come down here. You can't visit me back home." Victoria's hands dropped. "What are you saying, Bob? Why can't I visit you 'back home'?" "Because I don't want my wife to find out about you? What did you think?" "You're married." "Of course, I just said that." He moved forward to kiss her lips and she turned away. "Now what's wrong with you? I said I'd take care of you. You would have your own place to live and a comfortable allowance. When I'm in town you'd have to spend your time with me, but when I'm away you can do whatever the hell you want. Except you're forbidden to fuck anyone else." "You're married." "Will you get over that? What the hell is wrong with you?" He grabbed her arms tightly. "Why were you playing up to me on the dance floor? Lizzy must have told you I was married and looking for a girlfriend while I'm down here. You can't be so na•ve as to think I'd leave my wife for you." "You asshole! You're fucking married!" Victoria pushed him away. "God, how could I have been so stupid? I've been around such nice guys lately I'd forgotten what jerks some of you could be." She pulled her top back into place. "If Lizzy asks where I am then tell her I've gone back home." An image of the North Pole flashed through her mind when she said 'home'. Bob fixed his pants. "Get off my car you god-dammned, stupid bitch." Victoria moved from the car, keeping out of Bob's reach and watched as he climbed in, started the ignition and roared out of the parking lot. She walked home. She wasn't worried about muggers, as she knew there would be a faerie around her somewhere, protecting her. When she arrived, her parents were already sleeping so she simply stripped, slid between the sheets and went to sleep. The next day, Lizzy came by to try to 'talk some sense' into Victoria. It seemed that Bob had confided in her and he was willing to forgive Victoria's behaviour, as Lizzy had assured him that she was a great girl. When Lizzy made it plain that she was well aware that Bob merely wanted a mistress Victoria ordered her out, using some choice words that made her parents blush. Later that afternoon, after moping around the house Victoria told her parents she was going to Ottawa for a while to visit her best friend. She called up Jenny and was surprised when Jenny told her that there would be a jet waiting for her at the Halifax airport the next day. Sure enough, after bidding a loving farewell to her parents, who demanded she keep in touch more often, she took a taxi to the airport to find a private jet was waiting for her and only her. Even though the flight was short, Victoria found the service excellent and the crew were very accommodating. Although they would only address her as Miss Smart and absolutely refused to call her Vicky. IV Once the plane reached Ottawa, it was a short walk for her from the jet to the limousine. The smartly dressed, brown skinned chauffer opened the door for. "Welcome back, Vicky." "Oh, Ahmed! You remembered that I prefer Vicky." She gave him a thankful smile. "I remembered that you were very insistent when you hired me, miss. I'll have you back to the residence shortly. If you'll be seated you'll find there is juice and alcohol in the fridge and a small selection of snack food. I'll collect your bags and we'll be on our way." "Thank you, Ahmed," she said while settling herself comfortably on the soft seat. He closed the door behind her and she took a quick look at what was available to eat and drink. She selected a Canada Dry and some small sandwiches. Soon enough, the car was moving. She would have preferred sitting up front and chatting with Ahmed while he drove, but she also remembered he was a Moslem and a little uncomfortable about being around a single, non-Moslem woman. When they arrived at Jenny's home, Ahmed opened her door and helped her out of the car. "If you'll go up to the door, Vicky, someone will open it for you. I called ahead to let them know we had arrived. I'll take your bags to your room." "Thank you again, Ahmed." She hesitated. "I was meaning to ask you, how do you like working for Jenny and her partners?" "I like it a great deal, miss. They allow me a great deal of free time and I have been able to visit all the museums here in this city at least once. I have also visited the Parliament Buildings." Victoria's Fall "I actually meant: are you okay working for Santa Clause?" "Oh, I don't worry about that. Mr and Mrs Clause are very nice. They've even asked me about the best date to give gifts to Moslem children and what gifts would be appropriate. I put them in touch with my Imam." "Thank you, Ahmed." Victoria took a few steps toward the door when Ahmed called for her attention. "Vicky, I just wanted to say thank you for giving me this opportunity. I think you'll find that everyone is very happy to be here." She stared at him for a few seconds as he walked back to the trunk and then she continued walking up the steps to the large, wooden doors of the mansion. She felt a little happier inside, even if she had no clue what she was going to do with her life. After all, when would the circumstances that led to Jenny living here be duplicated? As Victoria reached for the doorbell both doors opened. Standing in the doorway was Jenny, wearing a light-coloured sundress and with her wavy, strawberry blonde hair hanging down to her shoulders. Jenny and Victoria rushed together and hugged each other tightly. "It's so good to see you, Vicky. I'm so glad you came for a visit," drawled Jenny, with her sexy, Georgian accent. "I'm glad I came, Jenny. I've been going over some things in my mind and wanted to chat with you." Jenny grabbed Victoria's hand. "Come on, Phil and Sabrina have just started lunch." Vicky pulled her back and lifted Jenny's left hand. "A wedding band? You promised me I could be your maid of honour, Jenny. I had big plans." Jenny pouted. "It's the only thing I don't like about life right now. Legally, there has been no wedding. It seems that three adults who love each other can't go before a preacher or a justice of the peace and get hitched. By the time we can get legally married, it'll be far more likely that you'll be my matron of honour rather than my maid of honour, Vicky." Sorry that she had brought the subject up, Vicky decided to change the topic. "Well, at least you and Phil and Sabrina are happy. Let's go eat. I've only had a small sandwich since breakfast." As they walked into the dining area, Victoria heard silverware drop onto plates and chairs being pushed out. "Vicky!" Phil and Sabrina chorused. Phil was a tall, dark-haired and handsome man who towered over the three ladies. Sabrina was aboriginal with long, black hair, a complexion not quite as dark as Ahmed's and shining brown eyes. Each gave her a familiar hug. "Have a seat and grab some food, Vicky," offered Sabrina. The four sat and Victoria and Jenny pulled food off various trays and onto their own plates. Phil and Sabrina waited for the two ladies to start eating before they continued their own meal. "I am glad to see the three of you doing so well," said Victoria. "Well, I am aging a bit fast due to stresses from..." Jenny let loose with a raspberry, interrupting Phil. "Don't let him fool you, Vicky. He chases us around the house constantly." "What man could resist either of you ladies?" "Flatterer!" accused Jenny. "So tell us what has been going on with you, Vicky." Vicky told her story and they listened patiently. "Seems simple enough to me," said Sabrina. "She should just stay here for a few months. She can relax and enjoy herself. You do know we have a very large swimming pool here, don't you Vicky?" "You just want to see her in a bikini," suggested Phil. "And with the figure that she has, you don't?" Sabrina responded in mock shock. "Seriously Vicky," said Jenny, "you can stay as long as you like. But I can understand what you mean about wanting to do something useful. So why don't you?" "Like what?" asked Victoria. The three seemed to mull this over in silence. "What are you good at, Vicky?" asked Phil, after some time. "Besides wearing a bikini?" teased Sabrina. "This isn't helping, Sabrina," pointed out Jenny. Sabrina turned to Victoria. "I'm sorry. I suspect too much good loving has each of us a little giddy and possibly permanently horny. Please don't take offence at what I've said to you and please don't feel pressured to do anything you don't want to do." "I understand and I'm not offended, Sabrina. Your sense of humour is very similar to Jenny's." "Ha! I told the two of you that and you didn't believe me," accused Phil, jokingly. "No one understands how hard this life is on me." "If you two are finished lunch then maybe you should go out for a bit and let Vicky and I have some real girl-talk?" asked Jenny, ignoring her husband's teasing. "We'll see you at dinner, Vicky," said Phil, rising from his seat. Sabrina also stood up and gave Victoria a friendly wave, before leaving arm in arm with Phil. Victoria waited until she was sure the two were well out of earshot before speaking. "Jenny, I've been thinking about investigating one of those null areas you found in that old, faerie atlas." "Don't you dare! I wouldn't wish that on my worst enemy! It is way too dangerous!" "Well, I just thought that somebody has to do something about these places. The faeries can't sense anything about them so it means humans have to explore them. What if they are all filled with Windigos and they're killing anybody who stumbles upon them?" Jenny seemed torn. "I understand your concern, but dealing with one of those evil faeries requires a navy seal team or a group of superheroes, not a young woman." "Still, even if someone scouted around these areas and then alerted the military to the danger that was there, the world would be a better place." "Don't think about these problems right now, Vicky. Just relax and enjoy yourself. A solution will come to you, eventually." "You're probably right." V Four days later, Victoria had been wined and dined and entertained and was feeling a little bit like a fifth wheel. She broke the news to the others that she had decided to return to the North Pole and see if Holly or Doug had figured out some way in which she could contribute. She called her parents from the mansion, telling them of her plans and then a short time later Doug showed up in his Santa's sleigh. Her parting with Jenny and her spouses was both sad and cheerful. On the other hand, her return to the North Pole was entirely cheerful and she felt that she was home once again. That feeling of returning home, stronger than what she had felt at her parent's place, fixed the idea in her head that no matter what anyone else told her she was going to make a contribution in her own way. As soon as she could find private time, Victoria disappeared into the library and examined the same old books that Jenny had pored over, months earlier. She did her best to not let the others know what she was doing and everyone else was so busy that it appeared to be working. She learned and researched and eventually came up with a plan to help make the world a safer place. VI Victoria stood outside the door to Holly and Doug's living space, impatiently shifting a pile of books and papers as she awaited permission to enter. At last the door opened and Doug ushered her through. He was in his forties with brown hair beginning to grey and was wearing a plush, red bathrobe and upon seeing what he wore she immediately regretted interrupting the couple. The room was the one that contained the famous 'list', in encyclopaedic bound books on the shelves along the walls of the room. Victoria set her heavy load down on an empty table and glanced at Holly. Holly was a pretty, titian haired woman a few years older than Victoria. She wore a negligee that did not conceal her bulging abdomen. Victoria could guess very easily why the two looked ready for bed shortly after lunch, Holly had confided in her that pregnancy made her hornier. She smiled at Doug and he pointed to a chair at the table. Holly rolled her eyes. "You do that without thinking, don't you Vicky?" "Do what?" "Immediately charm the men as soon as you walk into a room. And don't say you don't know what I'm talking about." Victoria closed her mouth. "Yes, I guess I do, Holly. But you do know that I would never try to seduce Doug, don't you?" "I know that, Vicky. You gave up on him as soon as you figured out someone else was on his mind." "And I don't think I really stood a chance, anyways. You're quite sexy, for Mrs. Santa Claus." The two ladies giggled. "Uhm, if we've gotten the greeting out of the way then maybe Vicky can tell us what was so important she had to interrupt us?" Doug stood with his arms crossed. "Oh, sit down honey. We'll have plenty more time for lovemaking right after she leaves." Doug sat down, but his cheeks reddened a bit and he didn't look Victoria in the eye. Victoria opened some of the books. Doug and Holly groaned. "Well, you've seen these before," Vicky said. "Yes. I should have destroyed them, but Breeleigh and the others wouldn't let me. If I'd known you were going to be following in Jenny's footsteps I would have ignored that little elf girl. Put all this stuff back in the library. You know better than any of us exactly what kind of terrible things Jenny and her two friends went through. They were lucky to survive," said Doug. "I agree, Vicky. Put this stuff away and forget about it," added Holly. Victoria looked at the two of them intently. She knew they were intelligent people and that it was their concern over her safety that prompted them to say what they had said. "First, hear me out. Jenny located thirteen areas on the globe that the elves and faeries could not sense. She, Phil and Sabrina destroyed the monster that resided in one of them, the area in Quebec. That creature was vulnerable to technology, the same as the friendly elves and faeries. Also, that creature was preying upon animals, faeries and humans who came anywhere near its territory. I say we have an obligation to check these other areas out, if we can, and try to find some way to put an end to any beings that may threaten faeries and humans. We are the only ones who can do this." Doug and Holly exchanged glances. "We've discussed this between ourselves, Vicky," said Doug. "But there is the problem that Windigo was extremely dangerous and even downed a small plane. How can we investigate these areas safely?" "Well, I've thought about that, Doug. If we take some technology for protection such as guns, radios, notebooks, GPS or whatever else we can come up with, then if there is a dangerous creature its power will be greatly diminished. Also, if we only skirt the danger region and consult with natives and local faeries then we can gather some intelligence on what we are dealing with. Then, we return back to the North Pole. We send word to Cecee and Yuri at the United Nations to alert the countries in that region to the danger there. Those countries can then step in and wipe out the evil creature." She sat back in the chair, pleased at being allowed to speak her piece. Doug and Holly looked thoughtful. "I don't like it. I think it might be better to simply alert the nations concerned to the danger and let them explore." "That won't work, Doug," replied Victoria. "What if it isn't a threat? What if it is a friendly faerie trapped somehow? Remember the water faerie near Windigo's lair? She would have been killed. How would the normal authorities know what they were looking for?" Doug shook his head. "I think this might work, Doug." He stared at his wife in surprise. "Well, think about it honey. She's only going to scout out the area, not actually to face another Windigo. She talks to some faeries and humans who live in the area and learns what is going on and then comes back. She'll promise us that's all she is doing." Victoria's eyes lit up. This was going better than she hoped. She would get a chance to travel around the world while making a difference and really helping both people and faeries. "I promise I will do as we've agreed. I will not go into one of these regions, I swear." Doug was still not convinced. "You'll need bodyguards." "You mean chaperones?" "No, I mean bodyguards. There are many places in this world that are just not safe for anyone. We can ask some of the Russians if they are interested in accompanying you. Did you have one particular site in mind?" Victoria quickly put her finger on a map. "Africa. I've always dreamed of going to Africa one day and going on a photo safari. This won't quite be the same, but it'll be close. Or maybe a preview." Doug stood up. "Then I'll talk to the Russians and see if any of them have been to Africa before, especially around that area." Doug examined the map. "As far as I know, that area could just be all jungle. You'll need someone who has been there before." Victoria gathered her papers and books and after thanking Doug and Holly for their trust in her, she left their quarters with a big smile on her face. VII Victoria rolled off Sergei and lay beside him, sweaty but feeling wonderful. "Something is wrong, isn't it?" he asked after a few minutes. "Yes. I think our relationship is over, Sergei. I care about you, but I don't love you in the 'til death do us part' sense." She listened to his even breathing for a few seconds. "How do you feel about that?" "Well...I guess I'm devastated, Vicky. You have such big, beautiful, bouncing boobs and I'll miss them a lot." Vicky rolled over on to her side and draped her arm across his chest. "You are such a tease, Sergei." "I'm trying to make light of our break-up, so it is a happy affair." "It has already been a happy affair, Sergei. I just don't want to be responsible for breaking your heart." "Ah, but I'm such a womanizer that I have no heart left to break. So, you are going to Africa?" The tangent caught her by surprise. "Yes." "I am going with you." "No, you are not. I don't want someone coming with me because they're in love with me. We're breaking up and it has to be a clean break." "Ha! I've been to this region of Africa before. I have already told Doug I would go and protect you. A few other sailors have also volunteered. We all do it out of love for you, dear girl. None of us want to see you come to any harm and the best way to make sure you are safe is to protect you ourselves. Doug has already agreed." "I'll talk to him and explain the situation. You are not going, Sergei." "Holly agreed, too," he added quietly "Oh. I guess you're going then. But we're not going as lovers, Sergei." "It will be a little difficult for both of us, Vicky, but I agree. You lead this expedition and I am in charge of your bodyguards. When do we leave?" "In three weeks." Sergei sat up and stretched. "I'd better use the bathroom and then find somewhere else to stay until we leave." Victoria sat up in bed and watched silently as Sergei put on some clothes and left the room. Then she sighed. Sleep did not come easily to her that night. VIII Including Sergei, there were seven Russians that travelled with Victoria as her escorts. Two elves came along, as did Casper, a wraithlike faerie that had built a bond with Vicky during her ten-month stay at the North Pole. Fillik and Brendalla had both been to Africa centuries before and were there to advise the humans of dangers that only they could sense. Doug flew them there in his sleigh, with the humans unconscious in Santa's bag after a special drink of hot chocolate. He landed his reindeer in a wild area that the faeries assured him was free from immediate danger and they set about waking the sleepers. After a few hours, everything was unpacked and Vicky and her team bid Doug farewell. They watched the sleigh disappear in the sky and then, after consulting a map, began their long trek to the mysterious area they sought. They marched through dry scrub and their path wound about to avoid small hills and thickets of bushes or trees. Sergei kept glancing at Victoria and eventually she called a break and demanded to know why he was staring at her. Sergei looked at Victoria and then looked at his five men. "Mikhail and I have been to equatorial Africa before. We knew how to dress appropriately and we instructed the men on what to wear and carry. You dressed yourself and I see you chose your clothes and hat very wisely." "Even you Sergei? Everyone sees these melons and assumes I must have almost no brains. Well, gentlemen, I do have some brains." She continued the march, keeping her smile hidden from the chastised Russians. All Victoria knew about being in tropical Africa was what she had read in a Tarzan novel. They marched for six days, with Casper and the elves mostly out of their sight. On the seventh day they entered thick forest, which quickly became thick jungle. Going from a brown or yellowish landscape to an entirely green landscape, peppered with brilliantly coloured flowers was a little disorienting. Victoria found the heat, the constant buzzing of biting insects and the continual animal calls distracting at first, but she quickly grew accustomed to all of it. Sergei seemed completely comfortable with the environment while most of his men reacted in a similar manner as Victoria. As time went by, they all became accustomed to the chopping of undergrowth and vines to make their way. Victoria marvelled at the abundance of life; even the air felt thick with living things. It was seven days later, when the elves brought in good and bad news. The bad news was that they were unlikely to find any faeries about, but they could not determine why. The good news was that there was a village ahead, perhaps two days journey. Victoria and the Russians were glad for the chance to see people again, but they were also wary as they didn't know what kind of reception they might expect. The two elves led the group to the village, where several men, who carried rifles and wore worn t-shirts, shorts and sandals, met them. Sergei and his men kept their own weapons pointed at the ground in an attempt to show their group's peaceful intent. Victoria stared at the village and she noticed the people here were fearful and very poor. An unarmed villager left a mud and straw hut and approached Victoria and the Russians. He was a fairly young man with intelligent eyes and those eyes kept going back and forth between Sergei and Victoria, as if he wasn't sure which of them was in charge. "Do you speak English?" asked Victoria. "Yes. Yes, I do. You are from England, then?" he responded after a second or two of thought. "No, not from England. We're from the North Pole. Are you the leader here?" she continued. "No, I am merely the translator. But I will take you to our Elder. Where is the North Pole?" "Far from here. We are seeking information. May we meet with your leader, please?" The man looked at Sergei, who had been silent throughout the exchange, and then motioned for Victoria to follow him. He headed back to the hut he had come out of. Victoria followed him and then paused at the doorway. "Sergei, you come in with me. Have the others keep watch. Fillik. Brendalla. You come with Sergei and I," ordered Victoria. Then she bent down, pushed the curtain aside and entered the hut. It was very dark inside and smelled of sweat and smoke. There was a scraping noise and some embers flared, lighting up the small hut. The translator sat across the hut from her, beside a very old man. He was wrinkled, had thinning white hair and only wore a wrap-around loin cloth that reminded her of India, somehow. The Elder squinted at her and then waved a stick-like arm in her direction, muttering something unintelligible to the translator. Victoria self-consciously removed her hat and sat across from the old man, crossing her legs uncomfortably as she did so. The three then waited for Sergei and the two elves to seat themselves, Sergei crossing his legs only with great effort. Victoria's Fall "The Elder wishes to know why you have come to these forsaken lands," said the translator. Victoria glanced at Sergei and then took a quick look at the faeries before facing the old man. "Near here is a place that our friends there cannot go to and yet they can go anywhere else in the world. We wish to find out why they cannot go there. Do you know of this place?" The old man gave forth a cackling laugh. He pointed at the two faeries with a bony finger. He spoke for a minute or two and then the younger black man translated. "He says that those two cannot go everywhere in the world and if they told you they could then they are liars. They are not people. There are many places they cannot go. Near here is one such place. It is a place of darkness and evil. Those who go in do not return. There is an ancient enemy deep in the jungle who devours men's souls. This enemy came from the north long, long ago, from a land where the men built mountains of rock to hide their dead." The translator thought for a few seconds and then turned and asked the old man something. There was an exchange for a couple of minutes and then he turned back to Victoria. "He is speaking of Egypt. The enemy or evil god who waits in the jungle came from Egypt, but it was a long time ago." "Ha!" said Sergei. He leaned over to Victoria. "We'll get nothing here but lies and myths." Victoria looked over at the two elves, both of whom were watching the old man intently. The Elder started talking again as he raised a finger to Sergei. The translator waited patiently and then explained, "he says that if you wish to live you should return to your boat that does not float all the time." Victoria smiled at Sergei, who now looked very thoughtful. The old man spoke again and then the other translated the message. "The Elder says that you will meet the Destroyer, but you will also go through great trials before that time. The Enemy plans for your arrival and he hungers for all of your souls." The old man scratched at the dirt with a stick he had drawn from the glowing embers collected in the center of the hut. Everyone watched quietly. "That's a map!" announced one of the Russians, before Sergei hushed him. The translator then explained what the Elder said, as the old man moved the stick from place to place on the crudely drawn map. "A few days to the north and west is another village. These people are within the power of the Enemy, but they will not threaten you. The Enemy is near this point, due west from here where he waits in an ancient stone temple, like a spider. All of these lands, even our village are claimed by a cruel man named Shakra who would kill everyone who does not accept him as absolute ruler." The Elder then stared at the translator and spoke harshly. The translator argued, but the old man was emphatic and clapped his hands in the younger man's face, silencing any further debate. The translator turned to Victoria. "My name is M'Bengo. I am to travel with you and teach you our language, as you will need to know it when you meet the Destroyer." "Well, thank you M'Bengo, but our journey is dangerous and the village probably needs you here," countered Victoria. "No. He has told me that I will die shortly if I remain here. If I go with you, then I will have helped you to meet the Destroyer and achieved your fate. I must go with you and teach you our language." He looked down sadly at the dirt floor. "What do you think, Sergei?" "He should come with us. We can always return him here in a couple of weeks." The old man started laughing. He continued laughing as M'Bengo led them out of the hut and brought them back to the rest of their party. Victoria performed introductions between the native and her group. "Shall we head to this other village, Victoria?" asked Sergei. "Yes. But we'll keep an eye out for this warlord Shakra, whoever he is." The group sat and ate, sharing some of their food with children who timidly approached. M'Bengo sat apart and seemed very sad. Once lunch was finished, the group left the village. The villagers did not say farewell to M'Bengo and he did not wish them goodbye either, which struck Victoria as very odd behaviour. IX As bidden by the village Elder, the group marched straight northwest as best they could. Victoria was a little concerned that they had not seen Casper since before they had visited M'Bengo's village, but she assumed that he would show up sooner or later. After all, it wasn't like any wild animal could hurt him. Jenny had learned that on her long hike with the ghost-like and nearly immaterial faerie. Every time they stopped their march, M'Bengo came to Victoria and taught her his language and much to her surprise, she found she was picking it up fairly quickly. The days passed slowly in the heat and humidity. Much of the group found the walking very boring and there were a few comments to the effect that one patch of jungle looked like every other. Victoria and Sergei realized the morale of the group was dropping quickly and they pressed forward, eager to reach the other village and relax for a few days. They were still about two days away from the second village when an accident occurred. One of the Russians was bitten by a snake, fell into unconsciousness and quickly died. While Sergei and the others dug a grave, Victoria cried. Death was new to her and the sudden and unexpected passing of a man who had come along to protect her was an emotional shock that seemed to shatter her confidence. That night, Sergei went into Victoria's tent to have a talk with her. "You are taking Vladimir's death very hard, Vicky." Victoria wiped the tears from her cheeks. "I know. I can't believe that he died just because I was on a lark. We should return to the North Pole." "No. If we give up then Vladimir died for no reason. We must go on, Vicky. We knew that there were dangers here, beyond what faerie magic we might find in this region. All of us came knowing we might die. All of us except you, it seems." "Maybe I was too caught up in Jenny's fortune and I forgot her misfortune. I should have planned better, Sergei." "You planned this trip well. We have no intention of entering the actual 'zone of mystery'. We are only scouting to determine what we can about any threat here." Sergei paused in thought. "Vicky, maybe it would be best if I were in charge for the next few days, or until you are feeling more like yourself again." "Okay." Sergei cringed when he heard Vicky respond in a voice that made him think of a lost, little girl. "You tell me when you are ready to take over again and you're in command. When was the last time you saw Fillik or Brendalla?" Vicky sobered up. "About a couple of days ago. Why?" "No one has seen them since then. They just vanished early one morning and no one noticed they were gone until after Vladimir was bitten. The elves were supposed to warn us of dangerous animals." "They've usually told us when they were going to be away, but not this time. Where could they have gone? Oh well, they'll return soon enough." "Yes, they likely will." Sergei hesitated as if he wanted to say something more, but he couldn't quite get the words out. Vicky waited patiently. She too felt the urge to make a comment or point out something important, but whenever the words collected in her mind they just seemed to flit away before she could speak. "Good night, Vicky." The next day, another Russian broke his leg in a pit that had been naturally concealed by the thick vegetation. Sergei designated two others to carry him along. The group continued its journey and Vicky learned more and more of the native language. In the evening of the day after that, a spider crawled into a tent and bit one of the Russians. He was feverish throughout the night. When dawn broke he was still ill. Vicky caught two of the Russians breaking camp and informed them that they would stay where they were until the friend had recovered. She thought it odd that they were getting ready to go, but didn't think it important enough to discuss with Sergei. The following morning found the Russian dead. They dug a grave for him and then continued on their trek. Victoria noted that Sergei and the remaining Russians made favourable comments about their progress through the jungle. She felt buoyed that things seemed to be going well, having somehow forgotten about the two men who had died. That night, Victoria fought through the fog that was forming in her mind and visited Sergei in his tent. "Sergei, shouldn't we have reached the other village by now?" She found she had trouble looking at her former lover unless she was facing him. Sergei too seemed to glance at her and then stare at the wall of the tent. "Our arrival time was an estimate. What does M'Bengo say?" he asked in a disinterested tone. "He says we should have been there by now. I was just...there was something about being afraid...are we going in the right direction?" "I checked the compass a day or two ago, Vicky." Sergei pulled the compass out of his shirt pocket and showed it to the dark haired woman. "Oh, okay. I guess we'll arrive in a day or two then..." "Yes. Probably another day or two..." "Good night, Sergei." But more than two days later found the group still searching for the second village. Another Russian had died, slain by a leopard. The Russians had shot the emaciated beast and then buried their friend. Victoria shed no tears, which she thought odd because she had a vague memory of weeping at some similar sad event a few days earlier. Sergei, Victoria and M'Bengo set up camp that night while they waited for the remaining two healthy Russians to carry in their injured fellow submariner. M'Bengo went to his tent before dinner and without a word. While Sergei and Victoria ate, two Russians reached the camp without their crippled friend. No comments were made, nor were any questions asked. As the four ate, one of the Russians pointed out a large snake slithering into their camp. They watched it make its way around the tents between spoonfuls of food, not with fear but with a vague curiosity. The reptile slithered into M'Bengo's tent and there was a brief yell and then silence. The snake slithered out of the tent and then slowly made its way back into the jungle, unmolested by those watching it. The next morning, the four abandoned their camp and proceeded into the jungle. Not one said a word as they trudged over fallen and rotting trees and through mud and rotting vegetation. Victoria felt sure they were approaching their destination, but she had no memory of what that destination actually was. She merely knew that they were so close they could not stop. The four waded across a wide, slow moving stream. Leaches burrowed under clothes and fastened themselves to exposed flesh. A couple of crocodiles made short work of the remaining two Russian sailors. Neither Sergei nor Victoria fled from the attack or tried to help their friends. They merely continued wading and then climbed the far bank, unconcerned about the danger they had escaped. They may have walked for another day or for several days, but time meant nothing to the two of them. Their clothes tore, their skin caked with dirt and their hair became infested with insects. They continued on until they saw a massive, black stone monolith ahead. They reached the rectangular block lying on its side and did not wonder who had cut it or why it was in this place. Sergei sighed and then sat down with his back to the stone. Victoria stared at him as he closed his eyes and bowed his head. She felt torn. She wanted to stay with Sergei, but something else was calling her on. In the end, the second call was stronger and she walked with her eyelids half covering her eyes, past more stone blocks until she entered a building made of similar black rock. "Stop," commanded a male voice from deep within the dark temple. Victoria stopped walking and stood still awaiting the next command. Her eyes took in the partially ruined temple with its flooded floor filled with brackish water and vines and branches poking in through gaps in its walls. She smelled an overpowering stench of mould, rotting vegetation and perhaps decaying flesh. The air felt a little cooler than it had felt through much of the jungle. But some innate sense told her that there was an overpowering spectre of evil throughout this building. She heard splashes in the water to her right, but could not see what made the noises, as she had not been told to turn her head. Terrified sobbing welled up from deep within her, but her eyes shed no tears. "You have travelled very far to reach the Temple of Set, child. And I see in your mind that you came to kill me." The voice spoke in the local tongue and from close beside her. Victoria heard a hiss and a large snake slithered onto her shoulder and started winding its coils about her. "You and your friends at the top of the world should have known better than to try to slay a god. My powers have not diminished over the millennia. I am as strong now as I was when the first pyramids were built in a far off land. I see in your mind that Windigo has been slain. No matter, he was weak. And it means there is one less of us now, but none of us really like to share." The snake sometimes squeezed parts of Victoria's body painfully, but she could not see it as she stared straight ahead. She could feel it and she heard its hissing very clearly. "My power is to bend others to my will. You, my dear mortal, will be my plaything for the next little while. When I tire of you I will send you out into the jungle to live as an animal. Perhaps you will eventually be found or perhaps you will be eaten by some wandering carnivore, but whatever command you are given you will be happy to obey, child." And Victoria's first trials began. X Victoria was prowling through the jungle when she was first seen by the hunters. They watched in surprise as she leapt upon a rotting log and her hands darted out to catch grubs, which she quickly devoured. They watched the white-skinned woman curiously, for they realized she was white-skinned despite the fact that she was covered in a thick layer of dirt and mud. After a quiet debate they determined that she must be a servant of the Evil God who lived nearby in the black temple. As such, she belonged to them, as they were also his servants and she was closer to their village than the lair of her master. They agreed to bring her back to their village. They approached her, but she ignored them as she continued her hunt for insects. One of them called to her to stop and she did so, to their wonder. They saw she wore a crude belt of vines and a loincloth that hung down from the belt, covering her bottom and groin. There was a necklace about her throat that hung down between her large breasts. The hunters recognized it as a gift to her from the Evil God. They explained to her that they were going to take her back to their village, not expecting her to understand their words, and she docilely and silently went where they led her. XI Once in the village, it was quickly discovered by everyone that this girl obeyed every command given to her. The women took possession of her and had her cleaning skins, rugs, blankets and huts day in and day out. They marvelled that she never complained about the hard work, nor did she stop for food or to relieve herself. The women learned, though, that it was in their best interest to give her breaks and order her to eat and perform other necessary body functions if she was to continue doing so much of the drudgery for the village. But it wasn't long before some of the men decided that this white skinned woman held some interest for them. True, she didn't have the beauty of ebony skin and tightly curled hair, but her breasts and hips were quite pleasing to the eye and several of the men argued that in the darkness one wouldn't notice that her skin was so pale. There was a debate. The chief was wary about allowing the men to have sex with the girl for two reasons. He was very concerned that the Serpent God would object, in which case his life would be over quickly and likely in a very unpleasant manner. He was also concerned about his own wives as they talked to the other women and it had been whispered that if the men enjoyed her charms they might have less interest in paying attention to their own wives. In the end, the chief announced that the white girl would choose a husband and his wives smiled happily at the thought that the girl would naturally choose the chief, the most powerful man in the village, and then they would have less work for themselves. The villagers prepared themselves for the wedding ceremony. The men dressed themselves in their finest skins. A few, including the chief, had clothes from other parts of the world that they donned proudly. The women took Victoria aside and told her she would have to choose a husband. They cleaned her thoroughly and then brought her before the men. Victoria was told to choose and, obediently, she simply raised her arm and pointed at the man directly across from her. The young man, perhaps nineteen years old, whooped and danced in joy at finding a wife, especially one who obeyed every command, while many of the other men grumbled their dissatisfaction. The chief bound Victoria's wrist to that of the young man, in the fashion of their tribe, and the groom led Victoria to his hut. An argument ensued across the village, one that was loud enough to make the groom pause and turn back to look at the disturbance. Then shots were fired. Screams were heard. Victoria faced the open hut, slightly curious about what was going on behind her but unable to turn around as the groom had ordered her to follow him to the hut. There were more shots and then a look of fear on the young man's face. Then a single shot rang out and he collapsed to the ground in front of Victoria. She neither wept nor smiled, she merely waited for the next order to be given to her. A few seconds later, a strong hand gripped her upper arm painfully and jerked her around until she was face to face with a tall, black man wearing camouflaged army clothes. He held a gun in his free hand and there was a grin on his cruel face. He examined Victoria carefully, sticking his fingers in her mouth to check her teeth, squeezing one of her breasts to test its firmness and lifting her loin cloth to see what surprises might be hidden there. Some soldiers came over to him and waited. The large man pulled out a hunting knife and cut free the cords bonding Victoria to her dead husband. "Have they run off?" he demanded. "Or they died, just as you ordered. Of what value is she, General?" asked one of the soldiers. "She's a pretty girl and lucky for her I've been feeling a little lonely lately." He threw her at one of his soldiers. "Put her in a jeep and bring her with us. If I find you've done anything to her I'll skin you alive." The soldier blanched and dragged her to a jeep. And Victoria's second series of trials began. But luckily for her, General Shakra quickly grew tired of this girl who would do whatever he told her to do and did it without a trace of shame. He preferred a woman fight back, or at least cry or scream, but Victoria did none of that. So an idea occurred to General Shakra. XII "Your father wants you. Now!" ordered the soldier, waving his pistol at me. He would not dare shoot me for his own life would then be forfeit, but he felt free to threaten me as I never uttered complaints against any of my father's men. What would be the point? I folded and carefully set down my two month old newspaper on my bed. I yawned and stretched; it was my own petty rebellious act against those who served my father. I stood and then while buttoning up my shirt, I followed the soldier out of my own room and up to the fifth floor where my father awaited me. Victoria's Fall My father was 'holding court' in his office, which was a large room overlooking much of his compound in this small, deserted town. The blinds were down, ostensibly to keep the afternoon sun out of the room, but in reality it was to keep assassins from having the opportunity to avenge themselves upon my father. There were six guards about the room, all well armed and standing as close to attention as soldiers did under my father's command. My father, a large man with a cruel face, was seated behind his massive desk and he grimaced when he saw me arrive. There was a white man seated on either side of him. A large ceiling fan slowly revolved in the center of the ceiling. I had returned from foreign schools over a year before, intent on killing my father and ridding the world of a great evil. In the end I was too much the coward to do so. But, I was still brave enough to resist every temptation he set before me to become as he was; it was my mother's influence perhaps. XIII The two white men were financial supporters of my father. The one on his left was an American whose company wanted access to certain rare minerals in the mountains nearby. He and his company supplied my father with weapons and intelligence in exchange for my father keeping the mines stocked with labourers. The white man on my father's right was well past middle age and was a government representative of a European power. His nation had political interests that currently coincided with my father's, as neither wanted the democratically elected government of this country to actually hold power. So he too supplied my father with weapons and intelligence. My father pointed at a chair and I sat before him, but at a fair distance from he and his desk. "So, you see my son before you gentlemen. He is a great failure. The influence of his weak-minded mother, I believe. I sent him to Cairo, to Russia and to schools in Europe to learn what he could and did he come back with military strategies or engineering knowledge to build me better weapons? No. A great failure..." The room remained silent for some time after my father spoke. "Sometimes the acorn does fall far from the tree, General," replied the American in our language. "Do you have another successor picked out?" My father scowled at the American. "Of course not! I have a long life ahead of me yet. It was foretold. But I have another plan for my son." "You have no other children, Shakra? I had thought you quite the lady's man," said the European in French. I chuckled and was rewarded with an angry look from my father. I had once told him that I believed myself to not be his son as my mother had not been the only woman he had raped and if he had the ability to impregnate women then he should have many children. He had answered me with a beating and then he had shot the two soldiers that had heard me speak. "No. No other children, my friend. But perhaps I might have some grandchildren." My blood froze as the thought that perhaps he knew of the handful of women I had slept with while I was away at school. If he managed to get his hands on any of them... "Bring in the girl!" he barked at a soldier. The man saluted and opened a closet door. He reached in and pulled out a half-naked white girl. She was pretty with large breasts, long, black hair, dark eyes and a good build. Her only adornments were a crude, leather belt, which supported two pieces of cloth, one covering her ass and one covering her groin, and an odd necklace with a silver chain and a large quartz crystal. I shook my head as she wasn't anyone I remembered. "My son, Michael, is weak. When my own guards taunt him, he either laughs or taunts them back. If he were strong he would strike them down or shoot them. You can see that he is armed. He will not beat a woman. I've given him some pretty cunts over the last year and he refused to rape even one of them." Both white men looked at the white girl and then glanced at my father. They didn't mind the idea of him, or I, raping a black woman, but laying hands on a white woman bothered them. Wealth and power granted no freedom from ignorance and racism. "Michael, this woman is yours. I have worked hard to make her obedient." The guards all snickered. I could well imagine what type of 'lessons' my father had taught this hapless, young woman who fell into his clutches. "She is going to teach you what it means to own a slave. You will learn to see everyone else as slaves." He turned to the white girl. "M'Gwalla!" The girl turned to face him impassively. "I am your Lord! My son Michael is your Master! You will follow all of his orders except where I have ordered differently! My son will have sex with you every twelve hours or you will kill yourself! Do you understand?" "Yes, Lord." Her voice was unemotional. I cringed inside at the thoughts of what she had gone through to make her so pliant. And then I remembered some of the things I had actually seen my father do and I realized no cruelty was too cruel, for him. "General, I'll pay you one million for the girl," said the American nervously. "So, you like her? She is pretty, isn't she? But she belongs to my son right now. Offer me another price in six months and I may reconsider." "I'll give you one and a half million, Shakra," said the European in our native language. "I can sell her in Europe for two million, easily." "I extend the same offer to you, sir. But for now, I must begin my son's training. M'Gwalla! Pleasure my son. Guards, hold him in the chair!" I was immediately grabbed by two pairs of hands, which held my arms in place and forced me to remain seated in the chair. I struggled against the iron grip of the smiling guards. I didn't realize that M'Gwalla had drawn near to me until I felt her hands upon my pants. I stared at her in wonder as she unzipped my shorts, reached her hands in and gently drew out my penis. She bent low and I felt her lips kiss and suck. "Father! This has gone far enough!" I pleaded. "Why simply try to persuade her to stop, my son. Didn't your learning teach you how to talk to people?" he mocked. Her hands were pulling on my penis and her mouth was teasing the head. The physical sensations were causing it to harden and rise. I looked about in embarrassment, but there was really no one there who was going to help me. "Please, Miss. You don't have to do this." She ignored me and continued her efforts to bring me fully erect. She was very gentle with her hands and mouth, perhaps if she had been rough and businesslike I would have been able to exert my will properly, but I found I could not. Soon her head was bobbing and the sensations I was feeling made it hard to remember the situation around us. "Please, Miss," I whispered, "we don't have to do this. I'll make sure my father doesn't kill you for disobeying him." But I knew as soon as I said it that I was lying. My father would indeed kill her for disobeying him, especially in front of the white men and his own soldiers. Far sooner than I liked, she brought me to full erection and as much as I didn't want this to proceed, a part of me did. M'Gwalla gave my cock a lick from base to tip and then rose to her feet. She lifted her loin cloth, showing me a patch of dark hair, and then shuffled forward so she could straddle me. I didn't know what to say or do. She slowly lowered herself down on to me, while guiding me in to her wet pussy. Once I was fully immersed in her she shuddered and wrapped her arms around my shoulders. Her breasts were pressed against my thin shirt and I felt her nipples hardening against my chest. It was her signs of excitement that convinced me that perhaps she was not as unwilling a participant as I had thought. The contraction of her vagina around my erection made me close my eyes and kiss the side of her head. She slowly lifted herself and then lowered herself, adding the wonderful sensation of friction to all those I was currently experiencing. I moaned, knowing that it would not be long before I came inside of her. She, too, seemed to be close to orgasm. She gasped and then bounced upon my lap as her breathing accelerated. Her face turned to mine and I kissed her full lips. The kiss was difficult to maintain with the speed of the bounces and then I felt that incredible release as I came into her pussy. She continued to bounce for a few more seconds until she also came with great gasps. And then she simply stepped off of me and stood, all trace of orgasmic bliss gone from her face. "Clean him with your mouth, M'Gwalla," ordered my father. She obediently bent down and began licking all traces of semen from my softening cock. I wondered what kind of woman could be so excited at the prospect of being a slave and then find herself here, under the spell of my father. After a minute, the girl pushed my penis back into my shorts and zipped me up again. "So you see the power I have son? I have learned to make other people into perfect slaves. Take this girl back to your room and do with her as you see fit. She will neither complain, nor fight, nor argue. She is the perfect woman now." I ground my teeth. The soldiers released me and I stood, anger consuming all other sensations. I scowled at the two who had held my arms and they smiled back at me, understanding completely how impotent my rage was. I glanced at M'Gwalla and then walked to the door. "Michael!" I turned and looked back at my father. "If I have to order her to follow you, then she will follow you everywhere no matter what you say. If you order her to follow you, she will leave you alone when you wish it." The guards laughed. "M'Gwalla? Come with me, please." And I walked out of the room, hoping the girl would not follow me. But she did, walking silently on her bare feet. XIV When we reached my room I headed for the bathroom and she, in all innocence, followed me. I sighed. I wiped my face and neck with some water from the tap and then stared into the mirror. "Why do you follow me into here?" "You said I was to come with you," she replied in her monotone voice. "I don't want..." I leaned over to her and sniffed. "When was the last time you bathed?" "I was bathed three weeks ago, Master." "Call me Michael. Why don't you have a bath now?" "Because you have not ordered me to do so, Master." My mouth dropped open. Could she have misunderstood the question? She spoke with an accent and I thought it was an American accent. I repeated the question in English in case that was her native language, but her response was identical. "M'Gwalla. Have a bath, please." She immediately set about readying the bath tub for her own use. When she dropped her loincloth I hurried out of the room, embarrassed. I waited on the bed, lying on my back while pondering this unexpected situation. I could hear her in the bath tub, water splashed, but there was no humming, singing or chatter that I had come to expect from a woman having a bath. Too soon, the water was drained from the tub. I walked over to ask her why she had not taken advantage of the water for a few minutes longer, but saw she was already drying herself off. I also noticed her necklace was wet. Why had she not taken the odd piece of jewellery off for her bath, I wondered? I went back to the bed, lying down again and tried to put the pieces of this puzzle together in my head. She was clearly not from anywhere near here as her English was spoken with a combination of an American and perhaps an Irish or Scottish accent. M'Gwalla was not likely to be her real name. She was beautiful. She didn't seem frightened of my father or myself. I could understand her not being frightened of me, but my father? She walked quietly out of the bathroom and stood beside the bed, waiting. "M'Gwalla, why are you not afraid of my father?" She didn't answer. She didn't seem stupid, but perhaps something had happened to her that affected her reason, I thought. Then I recalled that she had been in my father's clutches for who knows how long. "M'Gwalla, are you afraid of my father?" "Yes." "You don't show it." I waited but there was no response. I cursed myself for a fool as I remembered I had not asked her a question and she only seemed to speak to answer questions. "Why don't you show it?" "I have not been told to." A chill ran up my spine. How could my father have ever gained such power over another human being? What had he done to this poor girl that made her behave in such a way? She had no will of her own. "M'Gwalla, what is your real name?" "M'Gwalla." "What name were you born under?" She stared at me for a few seconds. "I don't know, Master." "I told you to call me Michael." She was silent. "Will you call me Michael?" "No, Master." "Why?" "Because Lord Shakra has told me to call you Master." "But he isn't here and he will never find out. I will not tell him and I hate him. Call me Michael." She was silent. Clearly, the orders my father had given her would be followed without question. If he had done this to a woman, it was only a matter of time before he could do this to soldiers and then he would have an unquestionably loyal army who would throw their lives away at his command. I thought about walking up to my father, pulling out my gun and...I knew I was too much of a coward to do so. I was no killer. I decided to see what I could learn about this poor girl. "M'Gwalla, who first named you M'Gwalla?" "Lord Shakra." "What were you called before he named you?" She was silent. I waited hopefully, but she did not answer. "Has my father ordered you to forget who you were before he met you?" "Yes." I groaned in exasperation. Even if I could somehow get this girl away from here and back to her family, whoever they were, she would be irreparably damaged. I sat up, with the sudden realization that she must be tired standing there. "Have a seat, M'Gwalla." She sat down beside me on the bed and stared out into empty space. Her stomach grumbled. "Are you hungry?" "Yes." "Why didn't you say anything?" "You didn't tell me to, Master." "Go get yourself something to eat. There is fruit on the table there, you stupid girl," I ordered her harshly. Then I felt ashamed, as I remembered she was behaving like this because of something my father had done to her. Unabashed, M'Gwalla had risen from the bed, walked over to the table and was now eating hungrily. "Use the washroom whenever you need to, M'Gwalla. If you are hungry, please tell me and I will get food for you." I had nightmare visions of her completely vulnerable, unable to say no and walking amongst my father's soldiers looking for food. For the rest of the day, I hounded her with the same questions over and over again, trying to find out who she was and where she came from. It was no use. She could not answer those questions and as I finally gave up and started eating my cold dinner, I wondered how I was ever going to get out of this situation. It took me a few mouthfuls to realize that my plate had extra food on it. I looked at M'Gwalla and thought that she must be hungry by this time. Why had she said nothing? "M'Gwalla, are you hungry?" "Yes, Master." "Here take my plate and eat your fill." It wouldn't bother me to go hungry if it meant this poor girl was able to get some badly needed sustenance. I could see her ribs. Then I remembered that she had told me that she was hungry and I had been so fixed on seeking answers to my questions that I had ignored her. "I am sorry, M'Gwalla. I didn't listen when you told me you were hungry." She wolfed down the food, evidently not concerned that I would be upset about her eating my dinner. "I will try to take better care of you." XV The room was pitch black and I could hear insects buzzing outside. Something had woken me. I had felt something brush against me. Suddenly I tensed and listened intently. Could there be a snake or scorpion in the room? I looked about fearfully. A shadow passed across me and I realized there was something in the window. I sat up on the hard floor and turned to look at the window. I could make out a human form climbing out over the sill. Now who could that be, I wondered. And then I remembered M'Gwalla. I reached up to the bed and didn't feel her. I jumped for the window and grabbed at her as she was standing up on the ledge just outside the window. I pulled her back in with all my strength. She didn't duck and her head cracked against the top of the window frame. She went momentarily limp and I pulled her back in. I cradled her in my arms and cursed myself again. I had been a fool. I should have realized that she might think me the same as my father. It was only natural that she would try to kill herself once she thought I was off my guard. She murmured dazedly, as I lifted her up and carried her slowly to the bed. I set her down while whispering soothing words. Her eyes opened and she tried to push me away. "It's okay, M'Gwalla. I am not going to hurt you. I'm not like my father. I want to get you out of here and back to your own people. Please relax and we can come up with a plan so you don't have to kill yourself." She continued to try to push me away. I thought she had just been through too much and had finally given in. "M'Gwalla, please tell me why you are trying to kill yourself." "Because Lord Shakra ordered me to," she said in a deathly calm voice as she stopped struggling with me. "Do you want to die?" "No." And then the time occurred to me. As I held her down on the bed, I looked over my shoulder and saw that it was almost exactly twelve hours after my father had given me this girl. I looked back into her face with horror and she looked back at me with no emotion. "Were you really going to kill yourself because it has been twelve hours and I have not had sex with you?" "Yes." My heart seemed to stop beating. I know there are men out there who would think this some kind of glorious sexual fantasy, but all I could think was this poor, poor girl who looked just a couple of years younger than I. "What can I do to stop you from killing yourself?" "Have sex with me." "What if I tie you up, M'Gwalla?" "I will find a way to kill myself." "Do you really want to die?" I asked, pleading. "No." I let out a great sigh. "Okay, M'Gwalla, my father wins again. I will have sex with you." I released her arms and she sat up in the bed. But now the problem was that I wasn't in the mood. We faced each other a short distance apart and her breasts were heaving, as she was still breathing heavily from her exertion. There was a subtle sweet odour, which I assumed was her natural scent. But how could I get in the correct frame of mind, and quickly, to do what I needed to do to save her life? "Is there any chance that having sex with me will bring you some pleasure?" "Yes." "Wait a minute. Despite all the terrible things that have been done to you, you can still find some pleasure in sex?" "Yes." I thought I could concentrate on the fact that I was making up for some of the tortures she had undergone at my father's hands. I touched the swelling bump on her forehead and winced, just as she did at my careless touch. "Sorry," I apologized pitifully. "Does it hurt?" "Yes." I dropped my eyes down to her full breasts. I reached out and cupped one. It was soft, round and felt warm in my hand. My thumb ran across the nipple and it rose slightly, drawing forth a small, quick breath from her. But I wasn't rising. "I think I need you to...I think we need to work together to get me to rise to the job. Do you understand, M'Gwalla?" "Yes." She reached out with her hands and undid my zipper and belt. I stood and dropped my shorts to the floor, along with my boxers. Then I sat back down on the bed. M'Gwalla shifted her position so that she was sitting beside me. Her fine hands caressed my penis, tenderly teasing the tip and occasionally pulling on the shaft as if to lengthen it. Victoria's Fall I leaned back on my arms and let her do what she could. I looked at her breasts hanging forward, over my abdomen. With every pump of her hands they swung slightly like pendulums. I licked my lips; she was indeed beautiful. I felt my manhood responding to her delicate fingers, slowly rising and growing firmer. I momentarily hoped she might use her mouth again and then felt guilty for thinking in such a way. She cupped my balls in one of her hands, playing with them gently. If I ever really wanted a slave then this is exactly what I would want her to do. And then I felt a pang of guilt for thinking that way. My father had no conscience and I had that of two men! I concentrated on examining her with me eyes. Her long, dark hair was draped down over her shoulders. Her back was entirely bare to me. It was smooth and curved and I traced her spine with my index finger, from her neck down to her belt. I lifted her loin cloth and marvelled at the curve of her bottom as she sat beside me on the bed. Her white skin seemed almost to glow in the starlight. Then I realized that my erection was ready and if I let her continue too much further, I would cum in her hands and not in her womb. Would that qualify as sex? I thought not. I gently pulled her back so she lay beside me and then I kissed her shoulder and her cheek. I reached my hand down to her short tuft of hair and then beyond, cupping my fingers to begin teasing her pussy. But I paused when I felt moisture. "M'Gwalla, are you wet? Are you excited?" "Yes, Master." I pushed myself up from the bed and positioned myself between her thighs, lifting both legs so her feet hung over my shoulders. I eased myself into her pussy as she smiled and then let in a long gasp of air. She was indeed wet and I felt myself on the edge of an orgasm already. If I were to make this pleasurable for her, though, I needed to slow myself down. "What do you want me to do to make this feel better for you?" "Pump slowly, Master." I did so. With each thrust I felt her legs tense a little. I tried to think of the fact that she was a slave to cool my lust and it seemed to work, as by the time I felt like I was drawing close to my orgasm M'Gwalla was humping in time with me, squeezing her breasts and moaning. All at once, my thrusting became erratic as I felt the power of the orgasm burst in my balls. My cum sprayed into her as I thrust deeply. She was moaning and pinching her nipples. And then my knees and thighs weakened. I withdrew from her pussy and lay down beside her on the bed, my cock slowly drooping. "I'm sorry. I couldn't wait any longer," I apologized. "Were you close to orgasm?" I asked. "Yes." "Did you have one?" "No." "Do what you need to do to have one, M'Gwalla." "Yes, Master.' The bed began to shake and I heard her breathing quicken and deepen. This went on for a couple of minutes. I was too tired and too ashamed to watch her. At last, she let out a gasp and I felt her relax beside me. I waited a few minutes for the glow of the orgasm to wear off. "M'Gwalla, do you mind if we both sleep in the bed tonight?" "No, Master." We adjusted our positions, so she lay on her back and I lay with my back to her. I waited until her breathing became slow and steady and then allowed myself to drift to sleep. I slept fitfully, having terrible nightmares that the girl had regained her will while we were having sex and tried to fight me off, accusing me of raping her. In my dreams I tried to explain that I was just saving her life, but she would have none of it. The nightmares either ended with her screaming how much she hated me or stabbing me with a dagger that suddenly appeared on the bed. She awoke before I did and the sounds of her eating the remainder of the fruit on the table awoke me. I sat up and looked at her. She was beautiful, but in her current state she reminded me of a child more than a woman and the thought made me nauseous. I decided to set up some basic rules for her so she had some independence from me. "M'Gwalla?" She turned to face me, while she continued eating. "If you need to use the toilet, please do so. If you are tired and need to sleep, please let me know. If it is time for us to have sex, please tell me. For each of these things, please do not wait for me to ask you." "Yes, Master." I left the room and returned with some more food. We shared the bread, water and cooked meat and then I went into the washroom to clean up. As I finished my morning routine, I realized that I probably had to order the girl to do the same. I did so as I left the bathroom. For the rest of the morning, I questioned M'Gwalla again trying to determine what I could from any clues she let slip. I still knew almost nothing about her. Later in the morning, she reminded me that it was time and we went to the bed and had sex. I let her rest, afterwards, while I paced the floor in thought. Heavy footsteps in the hallway reminded me that my father was overdue to check on me and I braced myself for his presence. He opened the door and walked in, surveying the scene. M'Gwalla lay naked on the bed, while I wore my shorts. He gave me a brief look of disgust and then walked over to the bed. "My son, what has happened to her here?" he asked, pointing at the large, purple bruise on her forehead. "Well, she hit her head..." I stopped talking when I saw that my father was smiling at me. "It's okay, my son. Being rough with a woman is completely normal. There is nothing as stimulating as seeing the look of fear in her eyes as you fuck her. I know those women in Cairo and Europe probably didn't appreciate that, did they?" I grunted noncommittally. "You have pleased me son. I had given up on you, but clearly you have inherited something from me. For your good behaviour I will reward you. Some of my men caught and killed a journalist and his crew. I know how you like electronics so I will give you their equipment to play with. You see what a good father I am?" He strutted out, smiling with pride. Had my mother stared at him in terror as I was conceived? The thought made my skin crawl. I looked at the bed. M'Gwalla was sitting up and staring at me. I thought I saw a hint of emotion in her eyes. Was it fear? "Face the wall and stare at it until I tell you otherwise!" I yelled at her. Immediately, I regretted my command. She did as I bid, but it wasn't her fault that I was afraid to find out if my father was right about me having the same tastes as he. I stood tensely, flexing my muscles and imagining my hands around my father's throat...until I was interrupted by a knock at the door. "Come in!" I barked. Several of my father's soldiers entered, carrying a variety of electronic equipment. One of them looked at my face and then nearly dropped the bag he had brought in. "Your pardon...sir." The others looked at him in surprise and then followed his eyes. They, too, were shocked by what they saw. "Drop the stuff and get the hell out!" I ordered. I suspected they had seen a family resemblance and I didn't want to think about that right now. I started rummaging through what they had left and I quickly found a laptop and some peripheral equipment. With a smile I realized that what my father had given me might be the means of my escaping with this girl. "M'Gwalla, come here and help me please." Two pairs of hands soon had the laptop set up, along with some other equipment that I hoped would give me e-mail and Internet access. But it wasn't until I turned the system on and then made some reconnections, that my hopes were realized. I grabbed M'Gwalla and joyfully kissed her on the lips, but she did not respond. Far more important than contacting friends, whom I hadn't communicated with since I had returned to Africa, or checking on world news for the last several months or anything else that I could think of, was trying to find out whom this young woman sitting beside me really was. I reasoned that she was either kidnapped by my father's men or had fallen into his clutches by accident, such as a plane crash. Either way, there should be something on the internet about her. I began a search of missing women over the last six months. The number of hits was horrendous and made me pause. I wondered, with a shudder, how many women worldwide had gone missing in the last six months? How many in the last year or ten years? I didn't want to think about the vast numbers. I narrowed the search to white women and the numbers went down, but not nearly enough. This might take me days to trace down a photograph of every missing woman. "M'Gwalla, can you tell me anything about your past before my father met you?" "No, Master." I fumed in silence. There was no point in berating the girl because she had been told not to answer such questions... "M'Gwalla, describe how you first met my father, please." "It was in the village, Master. I had just been married to a warrior when soldiers began shooting everyone. Your father grabbed me and had me brought with him and his men." I rubbed my chin, thoughtfully. This had been the first headway I hade made in finding out something about her. She clearly had answers for me, but I just had to be clever and ask the right questions. "How did you meet your husband?" I wondered if perhaps she had been a missionary or aid worker. "He was in the village." "Sorry. M'Gwalla, I mean were you trying to convert them or were you working with a medical team in the village?" "No." "What were you doing in the village?" I asked, perplexed. "Working. Cleaning. Harvesting. Rebuilding. I did whatever they wanted me to do." "Who do you mean by they?" I asked, my fingers poised over the keyboard ready to type in the name of whatever organization she named. "They, the villagers." "What? Wait a minute. Do you mean that before you met my father you did whatever the villagers commanded you to do?" "Yes, Master." "So my father wasn't the one who made you obedient?" "No, Master." "Then who was...no, we're getting off topic. Who brought you to the village?" "The villagers." I grumbled in frustration. "Then who gave you to the villagers?" She hesitated and her mouth opened then closed and then opened again. "No one, Master." I sat back in the chair and stared at her face. She had not been sure what to answer to that question. Why? "Describe when you first met the villagers, please." "They found me in the jungle, while I was searching for food. They ordered me to come back to the village with them." I stood up and paced around the room, while she patiently waited for my next order or question. The villagers found her but she wasn't sure who gave her to them? Maybe she wasn't sure if someone had given her to them? I thought the matter over for awhile. M'Gwalla indicated she needed a bathroom break and I told her to go ahead. Her necklace tinkled as she stood, catching my attention. Once she returned to her seat I decided to press on. "M'Gwalla, give me the necklace, please." "No." "Excuse me?" She sat waiting for my next command or question. She is a slave ready to have sex with anyone, but she won't hand over her necklace? "Did my father give you that necklace?" "No." "Did the villagers give you that necklace? Or perhaps your husband?" "No." "Did you have it when you first met the villagers?" "Yes, Master." Now, I really wanted to take a close look at that necklace and the colourless crystal that hung down between her breasts. I reached out to take it from her and she stood up suddenly and then backed away from me, her chair flipped on its side in her haste. I lowered my hands slowly, but she stayed in place. "M'Gwalla, I won't try to take your necklace from you." She returned, fixed her seat and sat down beside me. "Who gave you that necklace?" Again, she struggled to speak but no words came from her mouth. I waited over a minute and she continued to struggle to answer the question. "It's okay, M'Gwalla. So, what were you doing in the jungle?" "Searching for food, Master." "What kind of food?" "Anything that I could eat." "No, I mean what prompted you to go into the jungle in the first place?" Again, she struggled to speak. "I...we were looking for...we were looking for..." "Food?" I ventured. "No, Master." But I knew she could not tell me why she had entered the jungle. So, clearly I was facing a dead end to my questions, which meant that I would never find out who she was unless I could find something on the internet. I turned back to the computer and looked at how many hits my search had yielded and sighed. Glancing at her, I refined the search by limiting the ages of the missing women to between twenty and twenty-five. Then I refined it for her hair and eye colour. I briefly thought about typing in 'large breasted', but who would put that description in a missing person's report? The search was yielding far fewer hits now and just as I was about to review them, there was a knock at my door. I froze in fright. Had my father been monitoring my computer usage? I didn't think he'd even know he could do such a thing. Besides, he wasn't one to knock on a door. "Speak," I called out to my visitor. "Uhm, Michael, your father wishes to speak to you in his office." "I'll be right there." I glanced at M'Gwalla. "Stay here, unless you need to use the washroom or eat or have to sleep. Do you understand?" "Yes, Master." I cleared my internet activity log and turned off the computer. I then went off to find what my father wanted from me now. XVI I found him alone in his office, busy with some paperwork on his desk. "Ah, my son! Good news! We have sold M'Gwalla for four million American dollars. Do you have any idea how many weapons we can buy with that money?" I felt my stomach churn. "Who are we selling her to?" I asked, trying to conceal my fury. "Well, it seems that my two guests got in a bit of a bidding war after they left. They were both quite taken with the girl. In the end, the American had more money so I sold her to him." Neither man deserved to live on the same planet as she, nor did my father. "Father, your guests have gone. Can you confide in me? I don't believe you made M'Gwalla to be obedient. What really happened to her?" He stared at me and his face went cold. I thought he might be deciding the best way to kill me, but I had to press on for her sake. I realized that I needed a good explanation for what he would view as an impertinent question. "It's just that people have been trying to brainwash others for centuries and you somehow manage to figure out how? It doesn't make sense." He broke into a grin. "You are very smart, son. You must have got that from me. You're right, I didn't break her." I cringed at the reference to 'breaking her'. "I found her that way in a small village far to the south. They had found her like that in the jungle and believed that she was a servant to Set, some savage's jungle god." "Thank you for telling me, father." "I see now that I may have been wrong about you, Michael. After the American takes his slave away with him tomorrow morning I will begin showing you how to command soldiers. Go to her and have your fun while you can, but do not damage her." XVII I closed the door behind me and leaned against it. I had so little time! How was I to get her away to safety before the American came for her? I knew the answer was to spend the evening searching for her family on the internet and then try to flee the compound before morning. I had a gun and the trust of my father. I wondered how far we would really get. My father would kill me when he caught us. Was it in this young woman's best interest to attempt to escape? The American might return her to America. But he was very wealthy, so it was very likely she would be kept from prying eyes. Either I had to rescue her or she might be trapped for the rest of her life. M'Gwalla was still seated in the chair by the computer. "Turn on the computer while I wash, M'Gwalla." When I sat down in front of the computer it was ready for me to renew my search. I entered in all the parameters I could think of and then started working my way through the hits. An hour and a half later I had figured out who she was. "Your name is Victoria Smart and you are from Canada. How in Hell did you end up here, Victoria?" She did not answer, supposedly because she did not recognize the name Victoria. "You will answer to the name Victoria whenever I say it. You've been missing for almost two months and you are an ambassador from the North Pole. What the Hell?" I started searching information on the North Pole and found the world had seemed to go topsy-turvy shortly after last Christmas. Santa Clause was real? Victoria was one of a bunch of women taken to the North Pole, potentially to marry Father Christmas? The Russians had invaded and a submarine full of them had been defeated by just four women? And one of those women was Victoria?? I looked at her in shock. She certainly didn't look like some kind of super-soldier. I sat back in the chair and tried to mentally digest all that I had read. Had the entire world gone insane? I checked a few links and found the information I was reading seemed to be valid. All the major news dispensers in the Western World had expressed shock and wonder at the proof that Santa was real during some event at the United Nations, last spring. There had been some soap opera like tale involving the kidnapping of the husband of a friend of Victoria's by Russian agents. There was even a photo of this woman, her husband, Victoria and another young woman at the United Nations, shortly before the black American woman addressed the General Assembly. How could this all be real? I sat in deep thought while M'Gwalla-Victoria sat silently waiting for me to speak to her. My stomach growled and I realized that the dinner hour had somehow come and gone. "Are you hungry, "M'Gwa-Victoria?" I asked, putting my hand on hers. Knowing her real name and some of her past made her suddenly seem so much more vulnerable. I knew I had to keep her safe until her friends could save her. "A little." I stood up and led her to the table where there were still some bananas. "You get started on these and I'll be back shortly." I left and returned within fifteen minutes with an assortment of bread, fruit and meat, which I then shared with Victoria. She seemed to eat in a more feminine fashion now and I wasn't sure if it was just my imagination or the fact she may have been underfed until I took possession of her. Once we were finished, we washed up in the washroom and then returned to the computer. "Victoria, I am going to see if I can somehow contact your friends and arrange to meet them somewhere so they can return you to your family. Do you understand?" "Yes." I began clicking through links and scouring websites in an attempt to decide how to contact someone she knew. It took some time, but I eventually had an e-mail address and I crafted a message and sent it off. It read 'Please reply to this message immediately! I have Victoria Smart and she is in grave danger! This not a joke or a hoax!' Victoria and I waited for a reply. Eventually, I stood to stretch my legs. "Victoria, are you comfortable sitting in that chair all this time?" "No, Master." I sighed and cursed my own stupidity, once again. "Please get up and stretch or do whatever it is you need to do to feel comfortable again." She rose to her feet and began slowly pacing about the room as I had been doing. Then she bent over and began massaging her calves, slowly working her fingers up her bare legs. I turned my back to her and cursed my weakness, which had kept me watching her for several seconds.