Mail-Order Bride - Cover

Mail-Order Bride

Copyright© 2009 by BoonDock

Chapter 41: Change of Direction

Romantic Sex Story: Chapter 41: Change of Direction - Being lonely is a bitch. Rupert has been divorced for over a year and can't seem to manage the dating scene. His daughter pushes him into investigating a Russian Mail-Order Bride site and to his surprise, he is soon busy arranging for the visit of one of the woman he meets online. The story soon descends into a violent confrontation with the Russian Mafia.

Caution: This Romantic Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Mult   Consensual   Romantic   BiSexual   Harem   Polygamy/Polyamory   First   Slow   Violence   Prostitution   Military  

I woke with someone shaking my shoulder. It took me a few seconds to orientate myself. I looked out of the window of the Landrover and recognized Westville hospital.

I sat up and thanked Rifleman Mkize for driving us, then clambered out the passenger door. All the rest of the bunch climbed out after me and Daise and Alina stuck close to me as we walked. I got the sense that the relationship between the two of them had changed significantly over the past few days.

Alina had been the stronger; the more worldly of the two, and Daise had given off a sense of innocence and naiveté. That had changed subtly with Daise definitely taking the lead and Alina following her. I suddenly occurred to me that Daise had killed two men in the last week and been exposed to combat for the first time, and I hadn't really given all that much thought to how it had affected her. From what I could see, she was just fine, but I knew how deceptive that could be. I resolved to ensure she got professionally 'debriefed' as soon as possible. The last thing I needed was for her to join the ranks of the combat-related PTSD sufferers, and I knew, from bitter experience, that the likelihood of dealing effectively with the stress was directly proportional to how soon after it happened she got counseled or debriefed.

The bunch of us entered the lobby of the hospital and I got everyone to sit in the couches provided for waiting. Daise wouldn't leave me alone, of course, while I went to find out where Roy and Sharon where.

We found Gill on the third floor, sitting quietly on a couch worn shiny by the many worried people who had been there before her.

She looked pale and drawn and her worry and fatigue were written large across her face.

"Hello Gill," I greeted her quietly, "how're they doing?"

Gill started, caught by surprise. She looked up at me and I was wracked with guilt at the sight of the pain in her eyes. "Hi Rupert, the doctors say they'll heal well physically. There is some question how well Sharon will handle the mental aspects."

"I'm not surprised to hear that Gill. Relieved to hear about the physical. I know some other girls who've gone through some similar stuff with the same gang, maybe they can help by talking it through with Sharon later on?"

"Whatever helps," Gill shrugged in reply. "At this point I'm still trying to get my head around it all."

"Just let me know if there is anything I can do. Anytime. OK?"

Gill just nodded and dropped gaze to her lap again. I turned to look at the policeman guarding the door to the ward. "Ok if we go in to see them?"

He looked at me for a second, then, obviously recognising who I was, stood aside and gestured me to enter.


Half an hour later we were back on the road, headed for Johnny's place. I was simmering quietly, but my tension must have been as readily apparent to Daise as hers was to me. Hearing the story from Roy had not been easy, especially when the physical evidence was so clear.

When we got to Johnny's place, he showed us where he had piled a stack of blankets and pillows and we spread out over the lounge and the spare bedroom. I ended up being very warmly snuggled between Daise and Alina, and before I knew it, the stresses of the day caught up with me and I was fast asleep.


In the morning, the consensus was that there was no way we could feed the hordes in Johnny's tiny kitchen, so we all headed out to the Wimpy nearby. We got there just as they opened so we had the place pretty much to ourselves. Everyone place their breakfast orders, and once the immediate hunger pangs were satisfied, we started talking through our options. There were lots of declarations of intent, but no concrete ideas. I kept quiet and just listened. Eventually, Johnny turned to me and asked, "So what's going through that brain of yours? I can see the wheels turning and smell the rubber burning..."

I smiled at his joke, and didn't say anything, but the whole table got very quiet as everyone turned to me, waiting to see what I had come up with.

"Ok, I'm not too clear on the details yet, but I have a vague idea. Essentially there are two basic principles. Firstly, we have been waiting for them to come to us, and we all know that the best form of defense is attack. We saw what happened when we took them on directly yesterday, we cleaned their clocks. The second is that we've been playing to their strengths. I think we need to take advantage of the fact that this is our home ground, and use that to our advantage."

"Don't get all philosophical on us now, just point us in the right direction and pull the trigger," Bird said between bites of his third helping of breakfast.

"Relax Bird," I smiled, "the one part of our advantage is that we have time. That's sort of the point I was trying to make. We have no need to rush, they are the ones trying to set up an operation to be ready in time for the World Cup. Our only timetable is the one we make for ourselves. I think what we need to do is take some time out to rest and recover, plan properly and train. Once we are ready, then we can execute our plan."

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