Chapter 1

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.

"Next!"

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.

"Next!"

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.