Jenny Marie Jenkins was apprehensive when the plane landed. The small private jet seemed to shut off its engines about fifty feet above the asphalt runway and dropped silently to meet the ground flying past them. When the wheels hit, the jets reversed their thrust and her heart was in her throat in more than one way.

She had many mixed feelings about the trip. As the wife of a minister, this was her first trip away from home. Her husband had been selected by their government to be an observer in the upcoming elections for a number of reasons. He was popular in their state for his writings on human rights. He and several others had been selected to assure their government that the election of the next president of Cape Verde was fair and legal.

When the plane stopped, there was not the typical air terminal most Americans are used to. Rather than entering a flexible tunnel that runs straight into a terminal on the same level, a truck with steps down the back pulled up so they could walk down, out of the plane onto the tarmac. From there, they walked to the rusty Quonset hut to show their passports and pick up their luggage.

As Jenny and her husband, Joe, got onto the tarmac, several jeeps with men in olive green camouflage uniforms and Uzis above their heads stopped and fanned out around them.

Out of the Hummer came a gargantuan creature. He must have been six feet six inches or more. As he tipped his dark glasses up off of his eyes and placed them on top of his baseball type cap, Jenny felt he looked familiar. Then it hit her like a ton of bricks. Marcel Rousseau; the Black Onyx; Night Train Lorraine.

Like Jenny, he had aged somewhat. He had a little bit of grey in his hair; a goatee and a mustache, but the angle of his head as he walked; the rippling muscles and lean frame had not changed. He looked like he could still play. He had been tagged with the nicknames for the way he ran after he caught the ball. He got the name of Black Onyx from a sports writer who had seen him in practice. Without a shirt, and under a full lather, he looked like the legendary race horse; the sun gleaming off of the sweat made him look like polished stone.

Jenny had met him during track practice. With a full scholarship on the track team, she was determined to justify the coach's belief that this small-town girl from the Midwest could run with anybody. Jenny had not grown up in an integrated school, and had tried to mask her discomfort by over compensating with the blacks. She went out of her way to be friendly and gracious to the monsters that ran past her trying to snare long passes during practice.

Although she couldn't be sure, it dawned on her that she was being set up. The quarterback was probably throwing passes a little over Marcel's head so he could chase down the ball just in front of her.

The casual joking about him missing so many passes became a regular routine. After practice he would walk her back to the girl's dorm. He was eternally optimistic about getting a date with her, but she was terrified of what the other girls would think of her for going out with him.

Jenny gradually agreed to innocent meetings with him; coffee in the library, and eventually going to drive in movies where they would not be seen. Jenny was green about dating. Her parents had forbidden her to date during high school, and now she was on her own.

The young freshman distance runner was mesmerized and terrorized by the hulking senior football player and couldn't decide how she felt about him. Finally, after football season, he was drafted by the Chiefs. Although he continually mailed her tickets and plane fare to the games, she was a little apprehensive about what a weekend with him might become.

By the time his last week on campus was approaching, Jenny had resisted most of his advances for several months. She knew she would not likely see him again.

Jenny was shaking so hard she could hardly walk with him to the edge of the park. He had brought a blanket. She had brought a small picnic in her back pack. He took her back pack in one hand and the blanket under that arm as he held her hand and led her to the shade of the grove of flowering dogwoods at the end of the clearing.

Jenny was numb as she tried to make small talk across the long clearing. Neither of them was paying attention to the conversation. They pretty much knew what was going to happen once the blanket was down. It wasn't about the picnic. It wasn't about the backpack.

Jenny tried to be casual, but could hardly control the shaking in her knees as she held two corners of the blanket as they both tried to spread it out neatly on the grass. Jenny looked around nervously so make sure nobody would be able to see them if they walked or drove by. They were far enough from any trails or roads and the grass was tall enough that nobody would have been able to tell.

Jenny's long reddish-brown hair was woven into the beginning of a fish-tail braid just at the base of her neck. Her hair cascaded down her right side to her waist. Her blue oxford cloth button-down collar men's shirt was tucked into her Levi cut-offs. Her shorts were short enough that the pockets had been cut off so they wouldn't stick out past the bottom of her shorts. Jenny's lumberjack boots laced up to just below her knees, and the grey lumberjack hunting socks were folded back down over the tops of the boots.

She had come here to fuck him good-bye. She knew it and he knew it. Jenny allowed him to guide her onto her back and stretched her arms up over her head. Jenny was shaking so bad she couldn't talk. She forced a smile and closed her eyes to hide her nervousness.

Marcel tried to comfort her by stroking her hair and the sides of her jeans. Over a period of an hour or so, one thing led to another. Jenny tried with all her might to relax, knowing what was expected of her. Her first experience was to be with an NFL rookie drafted in the first round. "What more did she have to have?" Try as she might, she just couldn't relax. She struggled mentally to accept him. She hadn't been on the pill. That would have been too deliberate an act of acceptance for this teenager.

Jenny had seen articles on the internet about these issues. Girls were divided on how to accommodate their boyfriends and still protect against pregnancy.

In an effort to avoid full intercourse, Jenny allowed him to guide her hands to his clothes. Reluctantly, she allowed herself to remove his clothes and put them on top of hers at the edge of the blanket.

In an attempt to procrastinate, she allowed herself to be massaged everywhere. In return, she mimicked his actions as well. She knew things would not end this way.

Marcel rolled off of her. He pulled the naked teenager over, trying to get her on top of him. Jenny lay beside him; her legs at a ninety degree angle to his body. Her body was resting on his and her left elbow on the blanket beside him. Jenny laid her head on his abdomen and looked at the creature between his legs.

Jenny scooted herself down on his body so she could watch this monster unfolding in front of her. She positioned herself so she could see it and the reaction in his eyes when she touched him. Softly, inquisitively, she reached out. With the back of her hand, she brushed the soft underside of his shaft. She lay there, puzzled; fascinated; and terrorized by the animal unfurling itself in front of her.

Was it alive? It seemed to have a mind of its own. Marcel reached out with his left hand and pulled her legs closer to his body so he could reach her better. He ran his left hand up and down her leg.

Her soft shaven and tanned legs highlighted and accented the bare shaven vulva starring at him. Was it him touching her, or was it her touching him that made this glistening salamander grow in spurts. Every touch, every breath she took added an inch or so to the length of it.

"There's no fucking way that thing is going to fit." Her mind screamed. Jenny moistened her lips that seemed to be full of cotton. Jenny reached out behind her and grabbed a small plastic bottle of water. She moistened her lips in an attempt of build her courage.

They talked about not being able to see each other anymore. She agreed, without thinking, to take him up on his offer to fly her to the games. Little did either of them know or understand that promises made during sex rarely stand once the evening is over.

Jenny leaned forward, not quite sure what to do, and kissed him on the tip. Intoxicated with the power she seemed to have over this gargantuan creature, she licked him; first along the bottom of his shaft, then along the sides.

By the time they were done, the sun had set. Marcel wiped her off with a towel. They finished the picnic; folded the blanket and walked hand in hand back to his car.

After Marcel went off to the pros, Jenny felt reluctant about what she had done, and never seemed to have the time to join him out of town for any games.

Jenny had graduated, gone into the seminary, and married a fellow student. They co-pastored a series of churches in the Midwest. Joe had begun to receive lots of recognition for his writings that were being published.

Her husband had been asked by the state department to be part of a group to monitor the presidential elections. Their job was to watch the voting; make sure everybody had free access to the voting booth and the results represented the will of the people.

After Marcel's career was over, he had gone back to his own country and had been treated like a hero. He rose quickly through the military ranks until he was a Colonel. He was not that much of a soldier; he was more of a ceremonial figure because of his celebrity status on the football field.

Cape Verde was critical in that part of the African Continent for a number of reasons. It was a small island, bordering Namibia, the Democratic Republic of Congo and Zambia. A former colony

of Portugal, with a current population of only 250,000 it had a strategic spot in the continent. With resources of diamonds, uranium and petroleum, it could be influential in the region. The area had a history of corruption and violence. The state department did not want the area to come under the power of terrorists and pirates who would kidnap ships and airplanes.

When the election started, Joe and Jenny were in charge of making sure each person only voted once. They did not want the military coming through and voting endlessly to get a certain result. Jenny watched as each person who voted had their right thumb dipped in a purple dye. This would prohibit multiple voting.

After the voting was over, the tops of the aluminum voting boxes were taped shut; sent to the palace and the votes counted by hand.

Joe had some background in magic. He was familiar with the stunt where a magician holds up a scarf to show both sides; crumples it and produces a dove. In reality, once the scarf is turned, the magician uses his thumb to hook a wire; drag a dove in a special bag behind the scarf and produces it.

Joe was doing the same thing. He produced a wide band of vinyl tape; peeled the backing off of it and placed the tape over the slot in the box containing the ballots to seal it. In reality, he had an electronic GPS, about the size of a half dollar in his right palm. Under cover of the backing of the tape being peeled off, he was able to drop the GPs into the slot as he spread the vinyl tape over the slot.

The ballots were supposedly taken to the palace to be counted. As Joe and Jenny went out to their car, Jenny opened a computer to use for the tracking device. They followed from a considerable distance and stopped a great deal away where they could see from the side of a large hill that the ballots were being dumped and burned at a landfill. They knew then that the ballots were being thrown away. They followed the truck back to the palace.

"We need to find out how they are getting the final count." Joe said. He got out his cell phone and called some other observers. "We have got to get into the palace and figure out what they are doing with the votes." Joe said.

"We need to get into the palace and keep Marcel sidetracked long enough for the others to search the palace and figure out where the extra votes are coming from." Joe said. "Jenny, didn't you know him in college?" Jenny nodded her head almost imperceptibly. She didn't want to reveal the exact details. It was a secret she wanted buried.

"He's having a celebration party at the palace. We need to get in there and keep him occupied at all costs as the others try to figure out what is going on." Joe said. Jenny's heart was pounding. She said nothing as Joe drove back to their hotel.

"Put on something real nice. We need to keep him occupied long enough for the others to see what else is going on in the palace." Joe said.

Jenny's mind raced, searching for a way out. She did not want to be close to Marcel again. She had told nobody about their brief encounter so many years ago. She had told nobody about their brief affair.

Jenny followed her husband back into their hotel room. They had not been prepared to go to any extravagant dances or parties, so Joe stopped in one of the boutiques just off the lobby and picked out some clothes he thought would qualify as evening wear. Joe picked out some clothes he thought would look good on her. He grabbed a quarter cup bra, black thong panties, low cut button front black dress, some black stockings, and some long black gloves that came to her elbows.

"Keep the high heel boots on that you're already wearing he said. Jenny's heart was racing as she changed. She took off her jeans and blouse. She took off her white cotton bra and panties and stood, naked in front of her husband in her high-heel boots. "Are you sure you want me to look like this in front of this bunch of savages?" her eye contact seemed to be pleading with her husband.

Jenny put on the black thong. She put on the quarter cup bra. The garment did nothing to conceal her long-stem coral-pink nipples. Her firm, melon-sized breasts were incredibly firm and needed no support. They were not huge. They were as big as one would expect they could get without sagging. All the quarter-cup bra did was to frame and enhance the tantalizing puppies that seemed to be peeking over the top. Her nipples jiggled tantalizingly to reflect any movement her body made.

Jenny sat down to slide the stockings on. They were not panty hose. Each leg stopped just below her crotch. The tops were a decorative black lace band of stretch fabric that held them firmly in place. Jenny crossed her legs and started to button the dress down her front. She stood and smoothed it down. She could not smooth it longer. It barely came to mid thigh. It fit like a glove. It did not fit so tight that it had "horizontal stretch marks." It fit like a second skin. There was little doubt where the top of her bra ended or the length or location of her nipples. Joe handed her a long strand of pearls that, when looped several times around her neck still hung halfway between her breasts and navel. She tucked them inside her dress.

Jenny had not changed her hair much since her college days. Most women who are forty years old have long since cut their hair short for easier maintenance. Jenny had kept up her jogging all these years. She had not gained one ounce since her track days. Her long reddish brown hair was still woven into a fishtail braid down the side of her neck. It was woven in a French braid starting high on her head and down to the start of her neck. From there, it was clipped with a green emerald butterfly clip at the beginning of her neck. The rest of her hair hung loose down over her right breast and stopped at her waist.

They got into a limousine and directed the driver to the palace. The palace was designed as a compound with a large open air central courtyard where the celebration was being held. There were enough people coming in and out, that it would be confusing to keep track of everybody. Joe was pretty sure that the vote rigging was being done in the basement. The outside grade sloped so that there was a walk-out entrance on the back side where trucks were loading and unloading.

The courtyard was stepped in an amphitheater-type of terracing with round tables for groups of eight scattered throughout the different levels. Marcel was seated in one of two ornately carved oak chairs; almost thrones. He was the only one not dressed in evening wear. Instead, he still had combat boots; military fatigues and his camouflage baseball-style cap.

He stood as Joe and Jenny approached to greet and congratulate him on the election. They talked for several minutes. After a while, Marcel tried to excuse himself. "I need to leave for a few minutes to attend to some private matters. I have to see how some things are going in the basement." He said.

"We can't let him leave this party and go downstairs. We have to keep him here." Joe whispered in anguish. Jenny knew that if the others who were trying to see what was going on in the basement were discovered, they would be killed. She knew that being one of the observers; they would all be punished together. She reacted almost without thinking.

"It's been so long since I've seen you; we have a lot of catching up to do. Do you have to leave so soon?" Jenny forced herself to whisper as coquettishly as possible as she wrapped her arm around his. Jenny had momentarily forgotten about her dress. She had forgotten that the low-cut dress and quarter-cup bra did not cover as much as she was used to. As she reached her arm around his and brushed up against him, he was able to see almost to her waist. The long-stem coral pink nipples seemed to be begging him to stop as they peeked up at him.

When she realized what he was starring at, she self-consciously raised one hand to press the top against her. Although she had not meant to do it, he was now trapped; captivated by the memories of so many years ago. He was also a little bit suspicious of her intentions.

"Why now, after so many years of ignoring him was she now flirting with him?" Puzzled, he allowed himself to be turned and guided back to his "throne."

"Have a seat, Joe." Marcel gestured to an open spot at a table in front of them. When Jenny turned to go sit with him, Marcel grabbed her hand. "You're here, with me." He said as he raised her hand and guided her up to the "throne" beside his.

They chatted for some time, with Jenny able to keep him entertained. After a while, a couple of the guards carrying Uzis came up and whispered something to him in French.

They had discovered a couple of the observers trying to photograph the ballots that were being placed in the piles of votes counted for the current government. Marcel said nothing. He was not sure whether or not Joe and Jenny were in on it. He was suspicious of Jenny for trying to distract him. In any event, the discovery had been made and the votes were secure. The only issue now, was the extent of the subversion.

Marcel leaned over and whispered to Jenny: "We've discovered some spies trying to undermine the vote counting in the basement. Joe isn't in on it is he? We are going to execute them in the morning for being terrorists and spies. We can have them shot right there in the basement for trying to tamper with the votes."

"Please, Marcel. My husband is not part of this. They are only observers..." Her words trailed off. She was in effect, confessing that they knew about the voting.

"I only came here to see you. We had such a good thing so long ago. What's wrong with that?" She blurted out the only words that she could think of that might convince him to not kill anybody.

"You're really here only to see me? Convince me."

"What do I have to do to convince you?" Jenny asked with her mind racing. It was all she could think of to stall for time.

"If you are really committed to me, how come you didn't come to see me when I was playing? How come you didn't come spend any time with me when I wanted to see you? I think you were afraid to be seen with me because I am black."

Jenny shook her head slowly from side to side. She couldn't think fast enough to dispel his suspicions. "No, Marcel. Please don't do anything. I will do anything it will take to convince you.'

Marcel grabbed a plate of chocolate covered strawberries from one of the waiters walking by. "Convince me. Go pass out these hors d' oeuvres." Jenny was trembling as she picked up the tray. "How bad could this be?" she wondered as she walked first over to her husband.

"Please don't do anything. He knows someone was trying to photograph the ballot stuffing downstairs. I need to do what he asks or he will kill them. Tell me what to do?" she whispered.

"You're going to have to humor him or we are all dead." He whispered back as he took two strawberries.

Jenny turned and offered the tray to the man next to him. Joe was seated with several of the soldiers. The man was unshaven, dressed in military clothes and had an Uzi under his chair.

Tentatively, he reached out to take a strawberry. "You take a bit." He said as he held it out for Jenny. She had her two hands holding the tray. As she leaned over to take a bite, he moved it a little. Jenny had to shift and turn her head to try to catch the strawberry. As she leaned over, her top started to gap.

She realized as she tried vainly to get the strawberry in her mouth that he had his eyes focused on the top of her dress. She felt the chilled air, telling her what he could see.

When he held the strawberry still, she opened her mouth to take a bite. "Don't bite. Are you a biter?" Jenny turned red at the double entendre. Embarrassed, she shook her head slowly.

"Don't bite. Stick out your tongue and lick it." Jenny's cheeks turned crimson as she closed her eyes and slowly stuck out her tongue. Her tongue quivered as she searched for the chocolate delicacy. He kept moving it; just a little; just enough to make her miss. Each miss made her cheeks turn redder as the men chuckled. The chuckles turned into waves of laughter.

Joe was dying in sympathy for his wife; however, she was presenting an incredibly erotic and provocative image. The men in front of her could see at least one nipple as her tongue darted out vainly searching for the strawberry.

"Get down on your knees to do this right." He whispered. Jenny looked over in terror at her husband, hoping for some kind of mental support she knew he was incapable of giving.

Jenny kneeled. She held the tray off to her right and braced her left elbow on his splayed right thigh to steady herself. The soldier held the large chocolate strawberry right in front of his zipper.

"Lick it."

Again, Jenny gauged the distance before closing her eyes. She extended her tongue to touch the tip. She lurched back once she had done so; humiliated at the vile connotation. She was ready to gag more at the idea than the actual contact.

"More." The man whispered as he grabbed the back of her head. Holding the strawberry in his right hand and waving it slowly from side to side; imitating an erection, he used his left hand to guide her head towards him.

Jenny shook her head to get his hand off the back of her head. Slowly she leaned forward and opened her mouth. Again, she felt the hand on the back of her head; guiding her down on it. She pulled back; embarrassingly as if she had fulfilled all he had asked of her.

"Show me what you can do. Make it real." He sneered. The men roared. Jenny's eyes teared-up at the implication. Jenny leaned forward. She opened her mouth. She licked the tip and wrapped her lips around the end. Her mind raced as she lowered her head to engulf the entire strawberry. She moved her head back to expose it. She held still as the vile creature was waved along the sides of her cheeks; caressing the side of her face.

Jenny could feel the tip back centered on her lips. Mentally and emotionally beaten, she relaxed her lips and allowed the creature to enter again. She capitulated to the vile simulation until the chocolate was gone. The crowd cheered. Jenny looked up at her husband; pleading with her eyes for sympathy for her humiliation. With her cheeks and lips covered with chocolate she was allowed to stand and go on to the next table.

She was unable to speak and barely able to walk as she stopped in front of the next group of men. The next man took a strawberry and she started to turn to continue. He grabbed the hem of her dress; stopping her. He raised the dress a little for a better look. Jenny was humiliated. With both hands on the tray, there wasn't much she could do but stand there and wait for the humiliation to stop.

Instead, he used the hem of her dress as a leash to pull her back towards him. He spread his legs and pulled down on the dress. She was forced to sit on his lap. "Please let me go." She sobbed hardly able to keep her voice from breaking. He pushed down on the plate; guiding her to hold it on her lap.

"My name is Alain."

"Jenny." Was her reply.

Silently Alain held his strawberry and used it as a pointer. He looked at her dress and waved the strawberry up and down; then in a circular motion; indicating he wanted her to open the top button.

Jenny looked over at her husband; then at Marcel. Joe could not bear to meet her gaze. He could not approve or disapprove what she had been ordered to do. Again he gestured with the strawberry. Jenny looked over at Marcel; hoping for some sign of a reprieve. All she saw were signs of contempt; maybe lust. Definitely no signs of sympathy.

Jenny tried to think of the observers who had been caught. She tried to justify what she was about to do as an act of desperation for the lives of them; not a wanton display of herself. Her fingers trembled as she pushed the first button through the eyelet.

Although the air was not really that chilly, the fact that she could now feel it on her nipples sent Goosebumps across her. The next button left the dress open to the bottom of her bra. Alain used the strawberry like a tool to part her top.

He caressed the far nipple with the tip of the strawberry, leaving it tipped with chocolate. He leaned forward and licked it off. Jenny's breasts jiggled to echo the roiling of her stomach as he touched her.

Alain leaned back. The men cheered when they saw the chocolate tipped coral pink long-stem nipple peeking over the top of her quarter-cup bra.

Without speaking, Alain took a bite of the strawberry and waived his hand in a circular motion again; signaling her to continue. Jenny dropped her head. Her hair hung over her right breast, temporarily hiding it from the audience as she reached for the next button. When she had the last button above her waist open, she felt hands on her shoulders. Somebody behind her tugged the top of her dress over her shoulders so the only thing keeping it from falling off was her outstretched arms holding the tray.

Alain's gaze met hers. His gaze shifted to her bra. Without speaking, she could read his mind. In a cruel almost mental telepathy, he was telling her to take off the bra. It would be one thing for one of the men in the audience to rip it off of her. It was worse and more humiliating to think that she was being forced to take it off by herself; with no visible or verbal command, she reached up with one hand for the clasp between her breasts. She tried to use the insides of her arms against her ribcage to hopefully keep it in place; but to no avail. As soon as the clasp parted, her breasts seemed to explode out and away from the transparent lace garment.

The men cheered as Jenny cringed in humiliation and embarrassment. "Think of the observers in the basement and whether they live or die." Jenny tried to tell herself again; trying to shift her own focus from herself to others. She felt somebody pull the strapless garment from her.

One-by-one, Alaine guided her hands out of the top of her dress.

"Next." She heard Marcel say. Jenny got up to go to the next table. The top of her dress was now folded down over the bottom half. Her proud chocolate smeared nipples jiggled in time with the clip-clop of her high heeled boots across the honed limestone flooring.

When she got to the next table, she felt a hand around her waist. She stopped. The man spread his legs and pulled her down on his lap; facing away from him. She tried to close her eyes to shut out the flashes of the different cell phone cameras going off. She was trying to shut out what was going on.

She felt his hands on her. She felt his hands on the button at her hem. She felt the chilled air as the lowest button went through the eyelet and sprang free. Her tears were dripping down from her cheeks and running off of her breasts as the last button came open. The dress parted with nothing now holding it to her. More cell phones flashed as she sat there, now, in her long black gloves and stockings.