Monique smiled sweetly across the table at Kevin, lifting her champagne glass in a toast.
"Well, here's to the conquering hero. Honestly Kevin, she was absolutely crushed. You should have seen her face when I showed her the note. She couldn't believe you would turn into a tiger like this."
The words eased Kevin's worried mind. He had walked about the city all day worried to death about Jean's reaction to the note he had written for Monique. Several times, he had almost gone over to the small hotel she had indicated in her cable and begged her forgiveness but each time, he thought of Monique's advice about being strong and had desisted. It had taken all his courage but now it seemed it had all been for the best. He would have blubbered out something stupid if he had seen Jean and probably made things more of a mess than they already were. The champagne was relaxing him now and he felt better than he had since walking out of the hotel several days ago in Paris.
"I owe you a lot, Monique," he said warmly, "I honestly didn't know what to do when I arrived here. Jean's such a funny conservative girl that I had no idea what to say to her."
"Believe me, my dear boy, you'll never have that problem again. By tomorrow she'll be chomping at the bit wondering what you're doing in Paris. Women are like that. I know, I'm one too, remember?"
Monique was pleased. Things had gone much better than she had expected and this naive young American had swallowed her story, hook, line and sinker. She had spent her day arranging things with Gamal for one of his usual parties at his villa and tonight she would clench the sale to him Kevin didn't know it, she smiled to herself, but he would play a great part in it. He probably would raise the price on his own wife by at least one thousand American dollars if things went the way she had planned it. And knowing Gamal's taste for the unusual, she was certain it would work.
"I've planned a surprise for you," Monique said, interrupting his thoughts of Jean. "Remember the experience we discussed this afternoon? Well, I've arranged for us to attend a very special party tonight."
"A party, what good will that do me? I've been to thousands already and it's never helped yet."
"I said a special party, Kevin, and I mean a very special one. Men and women do things to each other. Good things," she grinned slyly, waiting amusedly for his reaction. It certainly would be one of indignation at first, until she convinced him otherwise. Lord, what one had to go through to teach these youngsters about life!
Kevin's reaction was exactly as Monique had predicted. He blushed heavily and lowered his eyes from hers.
"You don't mean one of those French exhibition things do you?" he said quickly, "I've heard they're pretty raw."
"No, no, my dear boy. This is not a cheap exhibition. This is a very special affair given by a very wealthy man. You can watch – and participate if you wish," Monique lowered her voice on the last sentence, an unmistakable invitation hidden subtly in it.
"I couldn't do that, Monique. What would Jean think of a man that got his kicks from watching others?" Kevin said, a flat note of refusal apparent in his voice. But Monique knew him better than he did himself and her appeal to his weak point began.
"Well, it isn't important. It's just that you may have learned something about lovemaking. Jean will expect that after your supposed good time in Paris. I don't think you want to disappoint her." Her eyes watched his face change slowly from stern objection to thoughtful consideration of her statement. She pushed him further.
"Remember also, a woman doesn't expect faithfulness from her husband as he does his wife. You've already seen her reaction to the little fiasco in Paris. She would have had a great deal more respect for you if you had known how to control yourself. I'm certain she wouldn't have bothered asking herself, or you for that matter, where you got your experience."
She could feel Kevin weakening, just as she had anticipated. Like all others in the world, if you could justify something to their conscience, then it was all right, even though it had been latently present all along. No one ever did anything they really didn't subconsciously want to do from the beginning. Just supply the excuse, that was all that was necessary.
"You make these crazy things sound so logical, Monique," he said, looking at her with resigned acceptance.
"I was right about today, wasn't I?" she said, smugly. "If I hadn't headed you off and talked some sense into you, you would have been groveling at Jean's feet right this very minute."
"Yes, I suppose you're right," he admitted, "we can go and take a look, at least that much can't hurt."
"All right then, it's settled. Tonight, young man, you're going to get an education you'll never forget." Monique beamed, chuckling to herself at the double meaning that could be placed on her statement had he known the actual state of things. "Let's go have our dinner, the party starts about midnight."
They entered the door to the villa a little before one o'clock. The dinner had been long and pleasant. Monique had purposely drawn it out to make certain Kevin got enough wine and after dinner drinks to deaden his inhibitions. She didn't want him too alert tonight, particularly in the beginning of the party. Her timing had to be very good to pull this thing off and she couldn't afford to have him get too moralistic on her and want to leave before she could put her little plan into action.
An attendant took their coats at the door and Kevin followed Monique into the large salon. As he adjusted his eyes to the light from the large crystal chandelier hanging from the frescoed ceiling, he could make out a small crowd of people gathered around a bar in the corner. There couldn't have been over twenty or twenty-five in all. It was evident that it was a fairly wealthy group as the men were in black tie and coats and the women, all young voluptuous girls around twenty, were in long evening gowns. Certainly they were not the wives of these men, as they were at least thirty years their juniors in most cases.
Monique led him over to the bar and ordered drinks from the dark appearing bartender. Kevin couldn't place his nationality but it appeared to be Arabic of one form or another. He marveled at his quiet efficiency in handling the group of people without complaint. Some of them had obviously been there for several hours and were beginning to get a little noisy. Kevin could not understand one word of the French and had to content himself with watching their animated gestures with their hands.
"It seems those two are coming to blows in just a moment," he confided to Monique over his drink. He was watching two men violently shaking their fists at each other.
"Oh, no. Not the French, it's just that we use our hands a lot like the Italians," Monique laughed, "they are just discussing whether or not it will rain tomorrow."
He laughed with her, now understanding why he thought he had seen so many "almost" fights in Paris but never the real thing.
"They'll scream and shake their fists until you are certain they are going to kill one another, but I have never seen one yet with the courage to strike," she added. "They will quiet down in a moment when things begin. Just watch."
"Just what exactly is this place," Kevin asked in a low whisper, still not certain he should have come. He would have preferred going back to his hotel and getting some rest for his meeting with his wife. He still needed to build up some courage in spite of Monique's assurance that she would melt like butter into his arms.
"It's a private club," Monique answered in a confidential tone. "The members are all nationalities and just fly in when a special party is being given. It's very exclusive and always has some extremely unique entertainment for them."
"What do you mean by unique?" he asked, his curiosity rising slightly now that he had finished another scotch.
"You'll see, my boy, you'll see before much longer. I guarantee you'll get quite a kick out if." Monique smiled to herself again. She could hardly wait to see this pup taken down a peg or two. Innocence bored her, particularly from those who had it made all their lives.
"Oh, you must meet Gamal," Monique said suddenly, interrupting something else she was going to say. "He's coming now."
Kevin turned his head and saw a short dark fat man approaching them from the center of the room. He disliked him immediately. He looked like just the type to be running a place like this. Kevin's stomach recoiled as Monique introduced them and Gamal pressed his small well manicured hand into his, shaking it like a limp handkerchief. He could smell his thick over-sweet perfume hanging heavily in the air immediately surrounding his presence. It was sickening.
"Welcome to our little get together," Gamal smiled to them. "You could not have picked a better companion. Our little Monique is always welcome here with her friends."
Kevin reached for another drink from the bar as the fat insipid little man took Monique by the arm and squeezed tightly as though he owned her. He felt like pushing his fist straight into his flat oily little nose. He had never met anyone who repulsed him so much at first sight.
"You will be participating in our little games tonight, Mr. Taylor?" Gamal asked with a sly wink, nudging Monique in the ribs at the same time. "We have never had an American here before. I'm certain you would be quite popular with the ladies of the crowd."
"No, I don't think I will," Kevin said, an indignant tone apparent in his voice. "I prefer my love life to remain private."
"Ah yes, a moralist, I see," Gamal said with a subtle mocking smile. "Perhaps you will change your mind later. Now if you will excuse me, may I talk privately with your charming escort for a moment."
"Be my guest," Kevin replied coldly, turning back to the bar. He was beginning to feel his drinks and decided as soon as Monique finished talking with that slime they would get out of here. He didn't like the setup at all and right now had no desire to see a trumped up exhibition with paid actors.
"Your little package arrived a few minutes ago, my dear," Gamal whispered with a delighted smile when they were out of earshot of Kevin. "You have done well, I must say. I will add one hundred dollars to the usual price in reward for your excellent taste."
"My dear Gamal you have not taken a close look at the young lady or you wouldn't even consider such a ridiculous offer. She is worth double the usual price if she is worth a franc. Come, let's go take a quick look at her. I'm certain you have missed a great deal of the quality."
"If you insist, my love," Gamal said with resignation. He knew he was not going to get this voluptuous young thing as cheaply as he had the others, but perhaps with luck, he could keep the price within reasonable bounds.
Monique followed him down the hallway from the salon and into a room that had a guard on the door. Jean was lying fully dressed on the bed, her eyes closed in sleep. Her dress had hiked up over the tops of her stockings and the smooth white flesh was tantalizingly visible up to her panties. She was the absolute picture of helpless innocence. Gamal liked that, Monique could tell. Her battle was almost won.
"Your desk-clerk friend gave her something to make her sleep during the trip here in the car. He says she will awaken in a half an hour or so," Gamal explained as Monique purposely registered concern on her face. She had actually instructed Shalla to give her the light sleeping potion so she would make no great fuss when she was transferred from the hotel. She just hoped that stupid Arab had not given her too much. She had to wake up soon or her plans would be ruined.
"Oh, the poor dear, I do hope they handled her gently. She's so sweet," Monique poured the compliments on, she could tell by the slight beads of perspiration breaking out on Gamal's forehead that he was very eager to get his hot little hands on Jean's young body. It was just a question of the price now and she was ready to put her plan into operation.
"Why don't you strip her down completely, Gamal, you can get a better idea of the true value that way," Monique slyly suggested, certain that he had already lifted the sleeping girls dress and peeked underneath. The slight guilty blush that passed over his face confirmed her suspicions. She smiled to herself in satisfaction. "I'll get us a drink while you are doing it and then we can discuss the final price with all the merchandise laid out before you. Business should be done like that," she smiled sweetly.
Gamal advanced eagerly on the bed as Monique left the room and made her way happily back to the salon. She was going to enjoy the evening. It was nice to be happy in one's work, particularly when the work was lucrative and presented a challenge as this one did. Yes, tonight should be an evening to remember.
She circled her arm through Kevin's, who had not seen her approaching from behind. "Such a sad face for such a handsome young man. Give me a drink and I'll cheer you up," Monique squeezed his arm playfully.
"What did that creep want? He looks like he should be running a whore house in Tangiers."
"Do I detect a bit of jealousy, my love," Monique cooed, squeezing his arm a little tighter.
"Not of that fat little grease ball," he said gruffly, handing her another scotch.
"Come now, Kevin, that's our host you're insulting. Besides, Gamal can be rather pleasant at times. He does mean well."
"So what was he so secretive with you about?" he demanded, the alcohol putting him in an impatient mood.
"Oh, just to advise him on some new drapes for one of his guest rooms. He has no need for me, dear boy. He has one of your young American girls for the evening. At least that's what he said."
"An American girl. How did he get her here, kidnap her?"
"No, not Gamal, silly boy. He wouldn't do that kind of thing. She's evidently here because of frustration. She asked her desk-clerk where she could get some action, pardon the Americanism," she laughed with her pun, "and he directed her here. There are many like that, you know. Their husbands don't keep them happy at home, so they play when they come to France. Frenchmen do have a reputation as lovers, even you must know that."
Kevin pulled deeper on his drink. "Well, maybe she needs it badly, but I can't understand any woman coming to a place like this."
"You'd be surprised how a woman needs it sometimes too. We're all flesh and blood, even we females," she laughed. "You'll see."
"I think we had better get out of this place," Kevin said impatiently. "It depresses me."
"Oh, nonsense. Finish your drink and order us another," Monique said, draining her glass. "I want to show you around a bit and then we can leave. It's quite an interesting house. You might even enjoy it. Gamal is very clever."
Monique took Kevin's hand after their fresh drinks had arrived and led him out of the salon. He was amazed at the splendor of the rooms through which they passed. Arab mosaics and inlaid ivory panels abounded through the house. It must have cost a fortune just for the interior of the rooms. No expense had been spared.
Monique led him down one hallway into a theater-like chamber. It had couches arranged in a circular seating pattern around a large round bed, the largest Kevin had ever seen. It must have been twenty feet across and had a strange circular post about six inches across coming right up through the center of the mattress. It stood up about four feet from the surface of the bed and had a short rope with manacles hanging down that was attached through a ring on top of the post.
"This little room, as you can see, is the theater. Quite a nice stage don't you think," Monique joked with a twinkle in her eyes.
"Yes," Kevin answered grimly. "I see by the handcuffs and rope that your sneaky friend Gamal has many unwilling actors too."
"Yes, they are sometimes, but for the most part they enjoy it, even if they so resist at first. I've seen some fantastic changes come over girls who are being ravished at first against their will."
"Well, certainly no one with the correct upbringing could ever enjoy making a public spectacle of themselves. I think he has them fake it."
"You'd be surprised, my boy, at what hidden devils lurk beneath most of us, even the most conservative. We're still not too far removed from animals, you know."
"I can see your friend isn't, but I think you're wrong about the majority," Kevin objected. "At least, I hope you're wrong. Otherwise there isn't much hope for the future of the world."
"I think you're being a bit melodramatic, Kevin. After all, what harm does it do if a group of people want to privately amuse themselves this way? Perhaps it's a better solution than you Americans with your bottles upon bottles of tranquilizers or stuffed psychiatrists offices. You people go to your headshrinkers and say; 'Doctor, I'm sick, I have dreams of seeing people making love, I can't get it off my mind.' Then he tells you about some far distant event that occurred when you were two years old that's supposed to explain it and cure you. That kind of thing never cures, it merely gives one the justification they need for thinking about sex without guilt. Here, when we feel like seeing an exhibition, we go see one. It's a simple and practical solution. Satisfies everyone. No doctors or tranquilizers."
"And what about the poor people on stage," Kevin said, speaking a little more harshly. "There are better occupations to earn ones living."
"Like a chimney sweep? No, my dear young man, for every voyeur that likes to watch there's an exhibitionist that likes to show it to him. Most people end up in the occupation that most suits their talents whether they will admit it or not. If it happens to be less than their aspirations they blame it on bad luck or circumstances. A slight change of aspiration is much more practical."
"Well, regardless, I think it's a rotten business and I think that pig friend of yours should be shot."
"Let's not fight about it, Kevin," Monique retreated. She didn't want to get him too upset. His state of mind was perfect now for her next step in the plan. Gamal would be quite surprised at their little interruption. She was looking forward with extreme delight at the confrontation that was now ready to take place. "Come I'll show you some of the other rooms before we go. Perhaps you'll change your mind about our host."
Kevin followed her through a series of smaller rooms. They were equipped with every known perverse device Kevin had ever hard of and then some. He was growing rapidly more ill with each new disclosure. Each seemed to be worse than the one before. He could not comprehend how anyone could enjoy having relations with some of the devices. He just wanted to get out of this sick place as quickly as possible and followed Monique more with a sense of duty for her assistance with his problem than anything else.
They stopped before the door with the guard. Monique had entered with Gamal before so the guard made no move to stop them.
"This is the room where the American girl was to be entertained. She didn't want to join the crowd outside for her first experience," Monique explained to the listlessly following Kevin. He stepped through the door and adjusted his eyes to the dim light.
Suddenly, Kevin's heart leaped to his throat!
In the dim light of the bed lamp was a completely stripped girl lying on the bed. Her head was turned away from the door groaning and the fat Arab had his face buried deep between her wide splayed thighs licking at her cunt like a hungry pig. He was completely dressed and his black suit contrasted distinctly with the whiteness of the weakly protesting girls skin. Kevin instinctively stepped back to leave the room when the still groaning girl turned her face, eyes closed tight, toward the door.
The shock shot through him without warning, like a thunderbolt! His knees sagged momentarily.
It was his wife!
It took seconds for the full impact of the spectacle to hit him. This dirty Arab had his young wife down on the bed slobbering over her naked body lie an animal! His muscles coiled, and Kevin threw himself at the hated figure like a wild bull, knocking Monique out of the way like a store dummy. She screamed just as Kevin landed on the totally unprepared Gamal, sending his fat body rolling across the bed like a bowling ball. He landed on the floor with a thud knocking the table and lamp over with a crash and Kevin was right on him, fists flailing like a windmill. He could feel the soft flabby flesh of the oil face giving way beneath his driving knuckles like so much putty. He wrapped his hands around the stunned Arabs throat and began beating his head against the floor with all his strength. He was a man gone mad and there was no reasoning left in him. He wanted to kill this vermin more than anything else in the world, to destroy him for daring to touch his helpless wife this way.
The guard rushed through the door and leaped across the bed, swinging wildly at Kevin's head with the club he carried. He connected with a sickening thud and Kevin slumped over on the floor with a dizzying blackness enveloping him, the light of the room faded painfully from his eyes. There was nothing but a great churning dark sea and he was sinking helplessly down into it, until even that disappeared…
"Want to buy her for the show tonight, my love," Monique cooed down at the Arab who was trying to rise dizzily from the floor.
"Are you mad," he spat at her. "Who is this crazy fool anyway?"
"He's her jealous husband, luv. He might enjoy watching her perform," Monique suggested coyly. "That would be sweet revenge and would give you something different for your clients. They are quite particular, I understand."
Gamal rubbed his throbbing head. What the woman was saying made sense for his clients and it would be a welcome revenge. No one ever touched him and this young punk had dared. Yes, it would be sweet. He obviously was the wildly jealous type. It would be good to make him squirm.
"Done," he said. "It shall be a pleasure to pay such an intelligent woman the additional amount this little trick obviously costs."
"You're sweet to do business with, my dear Gamal. I was going to charge you two thousand American more, but it will be only one thousand if you will give me a car to take me to Paris now and put out of the way a certain desk clerk named Shalla, at Le Pensione Afrique. Do it slowly, please."
"Both shall be done, my dear," Gamal answered with new respect for the business acumen she had presented. He liked people that could think well. "I see we shall be doing much business together in the future, your imagination impresses me greatly."
"Thank you, Gamal. I promise to keep your stables full with the best of the young foreigners I can find. Now, if you'll give me the money I shall be on the way. I want to reach Paris before tomorrow noon. A new group of British girls are coming through on tour. Perhaps, I will have something else for you soon."
"Wonderful," Gamal smiled, peeling the bills from his wallet. "We shall be waiting."
"Oh," Monique turned back as she started out the door, the money placed safely in her handbag. "Don't worry about the young girl not giving a good performance. She has received a good dose of aphrodisiac. It should last for several hours after she is fully awake. You won't need the manacles."
Gamal licked his lips in anticipation of the coming spectacle as he waved goodbye. Yes, this Monique was clever. Who else would have ever thought of such an original, yet simple idea. He would enjoy it too. This little bastard, who did he think he was? He deserved everything he was going to get.