Fighting for Custody
Copyright© 2012 by neff trebor
Fiction Sex Story: Chapter 1 - Jenny's daughter is taken from her by her ex-husband, who flees to another country. She pursues them only to be subjected to humiliating sexual abuse in return for the promise of her daughter being returned.
Jenny was sick. She fought the urge to heave. Deep down she knew what had happened, but was reluctant to face facts. She had been warned but chose to ignore everybody's advice. Her husband had taken their daughter and fled the country. She should have seen it coming.
Jennifer Marie had met her husband, Ali Kahn at the University. He had been her calculus teacher in her freshman year. He was a full professor. She had been taken in by his tall athletic physique, sophisticated grey beard and British accent. As an eighteen year old girl, she had been taken in by his intriguing stories of his early life in Pakistan; how he had managed to get out and carve a new life in the U.S. They had dated secretly after her class was completed.
Her family was devastated when she announced that she was pregnant. Never the less, he seemed to be an honest man and married her before the girl was born. Stephanie was cherished by both of them and raised in a loving home. Over time, things started to change.
When Stephanie turned fourteen, Jenny learned that her husband was still having secret liaisons with a number of the new freshmen girls. Jenny got into his computer and found through his email that this had been going on for years. When the school learned about his behavior, he was fired. Jenny left him and he was soon unemployable.
Ali's behavior seemed to deteriorate with his employment prospects. He was now living on the couch of another professor from the same country. He had asked to take his daughter out for dinner on her birthday. She and Jenny had already made plans with other friends, so Ali was to take her out the following Friday night.
When Friday arrived, Ali said he had a surprise for her. He said he was taking her out to dinner at a surprise location. They were to fly from Kansas City to Chicago for dinner at his uncle's restaurant. Stephanie was excited and could hardly wait.
They boarded the plane for the short trip to Chicago. What Stephanie didn't know was that they were on a direct flight to Pakistan. Stephanie boarded the plane, not having any idea how long it would take. When she dozed off, she had no idea how long she was asleep. When she woke up, she did not recognize the country she was flying over. It must be the clouds, she thought.
Once she landed, she realized she had been deceived, but didn't know what to do about it. Nobody seemed to speak English. Her father no longer spoke English. She was escorted out to a dusty old Jeep and away they went; down a dusty old road between an endless row of dusty old houses.
Finally they arrived in front of a large stone wall with huge timber doors. The doors parted and they drove into a lush green garden with large fruit trees and green grass. The house was a compound of interconnected buildings. Several older women took her clothes and changed her into the traditional Sari and scarves. Her face was covered with nothing but her eyes showing through the slits.
Once she was secure, Jenny received the phone call. Stephanie was no in full custody of Ali. He would need about $100,000.00 per year for her share of the private school she was to be sent to.
Jenny knew there were no private schools in his city; it was a shakedown that Ali knew her wealthy parents would pay. Jenny was devastated to know that she would not have her daughter. She also knew that if she did not come up with the money, her ruthless ex-husband would get money out of her one way or another. She knew her daughter's welfare was in peril.
Jenny took the next flight out of Kansas City and flew to Pakistan. She knew from the cell phone bill exactly where her husband was staying. She had pictures of his father's house and had even been there before they were married.
The taxi took her to the right house. Jenny got out and used her cell phone to contact Ali. One of the servants came and opened the door. Jenny was escorted into the compound.
Jenny walked up to Ali. He was sitting in a large circle with a number of other men. "I want my daughter back. You had no right to take her." Jenny said defiantly. In this country, the women do not speak unless spoken to. This thirty five year old woman with a form fitting silk dress that buttoned down the front and no scarf over her face or hair was, in their eyes dressed obscenely, almost naked by their standards. For a woman dressed like that to speak defiantly to a man was outrageous.
Ali puffed on his long pipe without responding. The other men looked almost in horror to him, not believing he would stand for such disrespect from a woman. They did not understand English, but understood the tone and body manners of this foreign woman. This could not be tolerated.
Ali laid the long pipe down on an end table beside him. He let the smoke out slowly. His calm deliberate manner let Jenny know she was in trouble. If he was irate, she was in charge. His calm slow movements let her know he knew he controlled all the options.
"First of all, Miss Jenny Kahn, you are not in your country. You are in our country. We can take your passport, credit cards and any cash. You do not speak the language. What do you think you are going to do to me? You are in my house and insulted me. Women cannot speak to men like that. You are dressed like a prostitute by our standards. If you are going to look like a slut to my friends, you will be treated so. They do not know who you are. I do not have to tell them you are my ex-wife.
"If you think you have any remote chance of getting your daughter back, you will do everything I say. Do we understand each other?"
Suddenly Jenny knew she was in trouble. Everything he said was true. "I'm sorry Ali. I love my daughter and want her with me. You had no right to take her. Please let me know what it will take to get her home."
Ali picked up his pipe and took another puff. He was now much more at ease. Jenny was beginning to capitulate to his terms.
"You are dressed like a prostitute. That is not satisfactory. Please take off those offensive clothes."
Jenny froze. This was too much to absorb all at once. She had flown from her home to another country. She had basically left all of her rights at the top of the airplane ramp when she left the airport. Jenny almost gagged again. She felt like she was ready to vomit.
'I need to get through this. I need to do what I need to do to get my daughter back." She thought to herself, not even realizing what he had ordered her to do. Gradually she realized what he had said. What were her options?
With her ears pounding and the veins in her neck throbbing, the humiliation was starting to sink in. What else was in store for her?
"Ali, honey, you know I can't do that in front of all of these men. I could never do such a thing." Her voice shuddered as she spoke, knowing she was gambling that he might listen.
"Listen, you dumb fuck Cunt. You do what I fucking say, or I bring Stephanie out her to take your place. I can take her naked to the town square and have her begging with a cup in her hand. I can get more money for a virginal fourteen year old girl in this country than all the money your rich parents could send me. I can pass her around this circle and let her fuck and suck everybody her if I want. It's your fucking move."
The tears started to form in the corners of her eyes as she reached her lead lined arms up to the top of her grey silk dress. She unbuttoned the first one. She could feel the cool fresh air normally considered refreshing, now obscenely fluttering the top of her dress.
She moved her hands down to the next button. The old men were speechless. What was going on? This spectacular middle aged woman was opening her dress.
The next button parted and Jenny was now exposed to the bottom of her breasts. The nude transparent stretch fabric of her bra did little to conceal the melon sized orbs that were now being exposed.
Jenny pulled the bottom of her dress up so she could stand straight and unbutton the bottom button at the hem. One by one, she worked her way up the dress until there was only one button left holding the two sides together. The last button seemed to explode before she was ready. The dress fluttered on each side of her; held together by the fabric under her armpit and between her fingers after the last button had been opened.
"Take off the fucking dress you slimy cunt!"
Jenny shuddered as she lifted her arms away from her and towards her shoulders. She tucked her thumbs under the shoulders of the dress; arched her back and let the dress slide off and puddle around her feet.
The bra was essentially useless. The fabric was transparent. All it did was to offer mild support for her melon sized breasts. They weren't huge. They had no sag. They were about as big as one could get without any sag. Humiliated, Jenny arched her back as she reached around behind her. The bra seemed to explode, telegraphing the release of her clasp. Jenny reached around in humiliation to catch the useless garment before it fell to the floor as if it mattered. The stretch fabric hid nothing except a token of her psychological modesty.
"Let it go!" her husband shouted. Humiliated, Jenny pulled the sheer fabric from her, extended her arm and let it drop to the floor in front of her. She crossed her arms in front of her as if that might shield herself in some manner. No matter what she did, she could not cover anything.
She stood there with her long stemmed pink nipples peeking out between her cupped fingers; head up in defiance as she locked eyes with her husband. Her panties were even more proactive than her bra.
The panties were made of the same sheer stretch fabric as her bra. The tops were high waisted, but the legs were cut almost up to the waistband. The sheer fabric did nothing to conceal the fact that her pubic hair had been shaved into a "landing strip" design above her slit. From her slit down, she was shaved bare. It was obvious without stripping off the fabric.
Jenny didn't have to be told. She knew what was next. She raised her thumbs and stuck them into her waistband on each side. With a slight push, they cleared her hips. They dropped to her knees, where they caught at the tops of her high heeled black suede boots that zippered up the sides.
Jenny raised her hands to cross over her nipples and vagina as she stepped up and out of her panties; one leg at a time. Her head dropped so her chin rested against her chest; unable to maintain the defiant stare at her ex husband. She was defeated; she was humiliated. She could not stop the tears from streaming down her face and dripping off of her naked breasts. Her shoulders and abdomen shuddered in humiliation waiting for the next order. She clutched the middle of her reddish brown fishtail side braid thinking somehow that somehow the long braid would give her some cover.
"Stand up straight and put your fucking arms down!" Jenny was shocked to hear so much vulgar language from her ex-husband. Since she had left him, he had grown progressively more vulgar with each confrontation they had. Embarrassed beyond description, she let her hands fall to her sides. Her reddish brown fishtail braid hung down her right side, covering part of her right breast and a slight part of her vagina. Her slightly freckled but Coppertone complexion only accented her nudity. Her alabaster white vagina and breasts were accented by the surrounding tan. Her daily runs along the jogging paths throughout the city were evident with her rippling abdominal muscles. There was no fat on this Dara Torres type of body. Her Bai Ling nipples were easily twice as long as most her ex-husband had ever seen. They were mesmerized by the luscious pink of a redhead. Arab men were not used to seeing this.
The room was silent. Jenny felt waves of Goosebumps rush across her as she stood in humiliation. "Turn around!" She did as she was told. "Bend over and spread those lips."
Jenny sobbed as she turned her back to her ex-husband. She had taken her clothes off as ordered. That was humiliating enough. She didn't think she could accommodate him anymore.
"Get my daughter in her!"
"No! Please don't. Please give me a chance to get used to this." She whimpered. Jenny bowed her head. Her fishtail braid hung down away from her as she placed her palms on her thighs. Her mind struggled with the image she knew she was presenting to the men around her.
"Spread those fucking legs!" Humiliated, Jenny put one of her high heeled shoes about shoulder-length away from the other, hoping that would be enough.
"You need to bend the fuck over a lot farther than that. I know you can keep your knees straight and put your palms on the floor. Do it." Jenny was ready to die. Slowly she spread her legs a little farther in order to reach the floor. The cold floor was not nearly as cold as the chill she felt when the lips of her labia parted and she could feel the breeze between them.
"I told you to reach back and spread them Mrs. Kahn."
Humiliated, Jenny's head hung down between her legs as she struggled to raise her hands up and behind her. She fought the urge to gag as her fingers reached inside her to spread the moist pink tissue.
A middle aged woman who had been taught to cross her legs and that revealing any part of her panties was an unthinkable act was struggling with the words and images she was being subjected to. "I am going to do whatever it takes to get my daughter back." She repeated to herself whenever she thought she could not continue.
Ali got up, turned and went into a back room. He came back carrying a scarf and a five gallon plastic bucket. He sat down again with the other men in the circle. The women need some water for cooking tonight. Put on this Nigab; go down to the well at the end of the street. Fill this with water and bring it back. Jenny was horrified. How much more would she have to endure? Ali got up and brought the scarf over to her. The Nigab was a ceremonial scarf worn by the Muslim women in public. It covered their hair and was draped so that their eyes were uncovered enough to see where they were going.
Jenny was horrified. The Nigab was a graceful black scarf that was supposed to cover her hair. Her long fishtail side braid hung down to her crotch. The garment was not long enough to cover her nipples when she walked. It would flutter and expose them. Humiliated, Jenny took some rubber bands and tied her hair up far enough to be covered by the scarf. She held the yellow plastic bucket in front of her.
"Carry it by the steel handle while it is empty. You can balance it on your shoulder or head when you bring it back full." Her husband said with a smile. Jenny was devastated. First she stripped naked in front of these savages. Now she would walk down the dusty street in public naked. How could she do it? This was beyond any humiliation and degradation she could ever have imagined.
Jenny wiped some tears from her eyes as she picked up the bucket. Her high-heeled suede boots clip clopped across the honed limestone floor as she headed uncertainly towards the door. A servant opened the door and she was almost blinded by the sudden burst of natural sunlight. Her nakedness was now on display to the other servants in the courtyard. There were muffled gasps and clicking of tongues as she walked past them.
When Jenny reached the heavy main doors of the compound that had let her car in, a set of servants opened the heavy timber gates. Jenny was numb as she turned out onto the public street. The street was about a lane-and-a-half wide with worn granite cobblestones covered with the dust of worn travelers. There was a narrow sidewalk on each side of the road. It was about a foot higher than the road to keep people from having to walk in the open sewer that was sloped to the center of the road. Jenny knew it was sewer water by the smell.
Humiliated, she walked along the uneven pavers on the sidewalk, stepping over the foul substances draining across the sidewalks into the putrid street. She struggled with her high heels. The metal tips on the bottom of her shoes seemed to announce to anybody who was not aware of her presence, that a stranger with unusual shoes was in there presence. The semi vacant street seemed to creep to life as curious little boys and old women stuck their heads out of their own compound to see what the noise was. The young boys ran back inside to alert the others. Soon, there seemed to be a growing crowd of curious people clicking their tongues in disapproval as they followed her.
"I need to get through this." The devastated woman repeated to herself with each step she took. Her nipples jiggled like manometers counting each step she took. Jenny seemed to be blushing in places she never imagined. Her alabaster breasts seemed to be turning slightly pinker as the humiliated woman continued down the street.
By the time she got to the well, she had quite a crowd of young boys giggling and older women shaking their heads and clucking their disproval. Jenny stood at the well and struggled with the apparatus in front of her. Embarrassed by her nudity, she was even more devastated that she had to struggle there to figure out how to get the bucket filled and get back. The rope was hopelessly too short. What the hell was it for? Finally the exasperated women dropped to her knees and broke into tears. The naked woman was stranded in public, unable to perform the simplest of tasks and return, thus ending her public humiliation.
Finally a young boy of about eight took the bucket from her. He placed it under a rusty pipe and pressed an almost invisible button. The pipe whirred as the submersible pump at the bottom of the well filled and sent a geyser from the bottom of the shaft up into her bucket. When the bucket was almost full, the young boy hit the button to shut it off. By the time the pump stopped, the bucket was full. Jenny was even more humiliated. She was unable to perform one of the simplest of tasks and needed this child to bail her out.
Humiliated, Jenny picked up the bucket and with all of her strength, struggled to get it up on her shoulder. Try as she might, she couldn't do it. Embarrassed and exhausted, she dropped to her knees, sobbing in despair. A couple of older boys helped her up and raise the bucket to her shoulder. The young boys were starting to take sympathy on her. They were fascinated with this beautiful exotic naked stranger with pink nipples.
Jenny struggled back to her compound, naked, exhausted and splattered with foul-smelling matter by the passing cars. She could hardly stand as she struggled to lower the bucket from her shoulder to the hot white limestone floor. She was silent as one of the servants took the water into a back room.
A couple of women dressed in burgas came out with towels and a pitcher. They bathed the standing naked woman and toweled her dry. Jenny was numb now to what else they might do to her. Jenny turned to see the men gathering into a smaller circle on their knees. They put a number of stones into a straw basket. Each reached in and pulled out one rock and passed the basket to the next. All the stones were white. Finally, one of the men drew his hand out and showed a black one. The men cheered.
One of the servants brought out a small platform and put a very ornate carved wooden chair on it; kind of like a throne. The man with the black stone walked over and sat on the throne. He acted like he had just won the lottery. He was a tall dark man of about six feet six inches tall and weighed a good two hundred fifty pounds. He would have made a good tight end in the NFL.
"My dear Mrs. Kahn, you have won the opportunity to comfort this tired young man. At the end of the day, it is your job to sooth his nerves from a strenuous day. Ali grabbed her hand and escorted her over to the foot of the throne. Ali said something to the man on the throne in a mixture of Pashtu and Urdu. His eyes lit up. Slowly he raised his tunic and put his hands on the drawstring of his salwars.
Jenny did not understand the words being spoken, but had a good idea where this humiliating set of actions were taking her. They were about to make her perform oral sex in front of all these men. The big man raised his hands; palms upward and wiggled his fingers frantically, signaling "come on" or "hurry up." With her reluctance or lack of understanding, her husband guided her hands up to his waistband.
"It's time to suck him off. I know you know how it's done. Suck it like you mean it."
Jenny had her two hands positioned on his waistband. She tucked her head against her forearm in embarrassment and sobbed. This was in her mind, the ultimate humiliation, and her husband knew it.
He had silently been bitter for so many years about her reluctance to perform this act on him. Now he had her over a barrel and she knew it. He would now have his revenge. "Suck it like you mean it." The words hit her like a hammer. She had tried to put him off all these years; sweetly, cleverly, but deviously reluctant to do what most men expect. She had no trouble accepting the same affection from him, but would not reciprocate.
The tall stranger put his hands over hers and guided her as she guided his salwars down past his knees. She had heard her husband call this monster "Hussain." She soon learned that the real monster was not Hussain. The real monster was little Hussain; only it wasn't that little. She watched in terror as it slowly began to uncoil. The more she was embarrassed; the more she was outraged; the more it throbbed and uncoiled.
Hussain grabbed her left hand and guided it to the base of his shaft. It wagged back and forth. When her soft tender thumb and forefinger were wrapped around the base, it throbbed like a horse trying to break free of its tether. Jenny hung on, too terrified to know how to react. She sobbed in humiliation at her predicament.
"Get with it you Cunt!"
Jenny was humiliated and saw no way out. She kept telling herself; "I have to get through this."
With no options or alternatives, Jenny leaned forward. Terrified, she pressed her lips against the tip and kissed it softly. She let her lips part and rubbed them from side to side, massaging the tip against her clenched teeth. Jenny drew back to make eye contact with Hussain. She turned to her husband. "Is this what you really want me to do?" she tried to express with her eyes. Seeing his cold stare, she knew she had no choice.
Jenny leaned forward. She wrapped her two hands around his shaft; with one hand in front of the other, like on a baseball bat. Her fingers attempted to encircle him. She placed her thumbs against the canal along the bottom.
She knew she could control the flow of semen through this channel; stopping it before it got into her mouth.
Jenny held the shaft straight up against his abdomen and rubbed the side of her cheek back and forth along the bottom, trying to get her mind to accept what she had to do. She brought it down and squared it up with her mouth. She leaned forward and flattened her extended tongue. She fluttered the tip of her tongue along the bottom, sides and tip of the purplish throbbing crown. She pulled back and turned to her husband. "Is this what you want?" her eyes questioned.
She looked back at the crown. She could see the large pores in the sensitive skin. She could feel the shaft throb and pulsate. She leaned forward; opened her mouth and slid her lips over the edge of his crown. Her tongue fluttered along the bottom of his shaft, struggling to find a comfortable place in her mouth crammed full of this obscene monster. She held her pose, breathing through her nose.
Jenny's neck and cheeks bulged to reflect her capacity for its invasion. The veins down the sides of her neck bulged, trying to accept him. She pulled back until only the tip was in her mouth. She bit down with her teeth just past the tip. It wasn't a savage bite. It wasn't a painful bite. It did not draw blood. It was a huge surprise.
Hussain's head went back. His legs and feet stretched out. His hands wrapped around the back of her head. One hand grabbed her fishtail braid and tugged; hoping to ram his cock completely down her throat.
Her hands wrapped one in front of the other braced her cheeks and chin from being forced down onto him. It gave her time to recognize the trembling. When he erupted she was ready; somewhat. She felt the explosion coming past her first thumb. She trapped it before it got passed her second thumb. She let him erupt, shudder, shake and groan. When his shuddering started to subside, she allowed his eruption of ectoplasm to pass incrementally into her mouth in controlled spurts. Her humiliation and degradation was now complete, or was it? Jenny thought they were through and let one hand off. But no; her came more; shooting into her eyes; into her nose and all over her face.
The excited old men cheered and clapped. "Who would be next?" they all wondered.
If anybody is interested, I will continue the story.
Should Jenny be allowed to return with her daughter?
Should her daughter get away unpunished?
Should Jenny be subjected to further indignities?
This is obviously pure fantasy in a country where men fuck young boys.