Transition Plan Chapter 107 - Searching for Jeanne Part 25
Author's Notes: I am trying to get you all to a certain point in the story (with double length chapters today and Friday) so that we will have reached an important step of the story by Friday 21 August, when I go on vacation a couple of weeks and leave you with a cliffhanger with no new chapters until September. LOL! The way I look at it though we're about two months ahead of the story with the compressed publication.
Warning: This is a difficult chapter but please keep reading. Strong T rating for a forced, difficult, disturbing moral dilemma and scenes of enslavement of an OC. There is also a lot of T rated profanity including some substituted f-bombs that would have been actually said in a more mature rated story.
…Outskirts of Dar es Salaam. Time: Unknown…
For the first time in what seemed to have been many months, or even a year, Jack Clayton stood at the last of jungle as it gave way to the enormous city, and asked himself, "Where do I start?"
Her radio message said: 'serving food and dancing'. A million restaurants in the city did that. But which one was Jeanne working in?
He needed to make sure he did he not draw even the slightest bit of attention from Karl-Heinz and Gunter or anyone who might know what he looked like as the Count's kid. A perfect disguise was what was needed. He'd read the stories of Sherlock Holmes as assigned by his tutor and the fictional crime fighter's mastery of disguise in the human world by blending in plain sight with the other people and things. He'd let his beard grow full in the months he was gone. He was proud at how heavy it had become as still only a young adult. He especially hoped that Jeanne would like it too. Tarzan was largely devoid of bodily hair but for a few strategic places his mother always admired. But he had to don clothes that would not draw attention.
Jack knew he could not walk the streets of Dar es Salaam naturally. He laughed that would draw a lot of unwanted attention especially from the constables, so he quickly donned his loincloth and continued to wear the ox fur covering over it. With his full growth beard he was well disguised against all who might recognize him. He looked like a wild man, and people kept a wide berth around him. His smell alone was a powerful deterrent.
He found an out of the way clothing shop that catered to Arabic, Jewish and other Middle Eastern cultures. He bought a good looking floor length tunic, much like a djellaba, with an outer garment and a deep hood that would hide his hair and face whenever he wanted. He could let Jeanne use the outer garment to help disguise her in their escape to cover whatever clothes she would be wearing that would make her recognizable to her kidnappers. The tunic was comfortable without being hot, and hid his weapons and valuables on his back well. The sandals were very comfortable. Dar es Salaam was a true melting pot of cultures and no one would pay any attention to him. He was no more unique than the many other thousands dressed in European or more modest African tribal garb.
He admired his disguise in a full length tailor's mirror. If Karl-Heinz and Gunter had encountered him, they would have walked right by him. The beard really completely changed his looks. Jeanne and his own mother wouldn't recognize him either.
Entering the city, he bought a map and systematically divided it in to a grid structure to organize his search patterns. For now he didn't stay at an inn. He was too keyed up. Jack walked the streets of Dar Es Salaam day and night for several days purely on adrenaline to check the restaurants with dancers as well as eliminate the obvious things she'd already done in crime that could be checked out very quickly. He was very tall and intimidating even as an older teenager. His hooded robe kept him mysterious and mildly sinister looking. He was dirty enough that he didn't look affluent, and he strode with purpose and full health, and let his huge knife flash, so one one bothered or attempted to rob him as an 'easy' target. He slept in the alleyways and rooftops.
The first few days he also checked the markets and shops and the shipping businesses and harbor, prime areas for robbery, thievery, burglary, beatings, and pickpocketing. He made sure he stayed well clear of any Clayton Shipping crews. He must not be recognized here. He didn't trust anyone not to tip off Karl-Heinz. The kidnappers had been traders.
He also checked the streets especially in the more crime-prone areas. He learned from the second round of trials in Douala that Meriem had become a very tough youth gang leader who robbed, mugged and pickpocketed. They could force her to steal for them again. She was nowhere to be seen on the streets, stealing or begging, nor was there any 'street talk' of a female gang leader, but he smiled thinking how amazing it would be to round a corner and knock each other over again.
He considered what else they could make her do that they knew she would abhor. He swallowed hard, remembering his conversation with his father, and immediately investigated the worst case, checking the brothels at night and inquiring or paying off the pimps to find out more about her, hoping against hope that she had not become a 'worker' there.
He was embarrassed at how many solicitations he received just looking for her. He was careful not to attract too much attention lest those who helped Karl-Heinz and Gunter hold her against her will would be warned that someone was asking too much about Meriem. He was very careful to make it look like he was looking for a good time with a woman who had the exact characteristics of Jeanne, but did not ever use her name.
He was very relieved that no prostitute in the city was of Italian/Greek background that spoke French and the few that were of that lineage who spoke German were not her.
After that urgent search was concluded he was exhausted, and got himself a room at a hotel, to make it a base of operations.
One day, fully dressed as an Englishman in clothes and a bowler hat that he purchased from another clothing shop in the affluent shopping district, Jack checked with the British consulate and the military attaché as Colonel Jacot had instructed. He looked quite the proper English businessman, and had tucked his long hair up inside the bowler hat, adding to his disguise. He was carrying his weapons and his tunic and money and valuables in a briefcase he had purchased as well. The military officer had expected him months earlier, and arranged a secret coded radio contact with his parents and Jeanne's, just in case the kidnappers still monitored the airwaves.
He discovered that it had been over 10 months since he'd left Garua which meant it was more than 11 months since her message and the start of his journey from Stirling. He was far behind what he had planned. Both sets of parents were greatly relieved to hear from him, and were very worried he'd died in the jungle and were about to resort to their own actions to find her and him. In the low key search for Jeanne, no one had seen any sign of her. The leopard and Mangani encounters obviously sidetracked him considerably, but he only casually mentioned he made some new jungle friends and would tell them the story later. He asked them to be patient and let him continue his search alone and quietly. Since they were so thankful he survived, they obeyed every request he had.
The embassy military attaché shared several vague rumors about a girl who looked like her had been reported as a cocktail waitress at a new bar some time ago, but there was no location given, and no attempt at her rescue. It was clear the authorities in Dar es Salaam had paid lip service to searching for the Colonel's daughter. It wasn't conspiracy like in Kamerun, but indifference to a family crisis on the other side of Africa.
He left the consulate disappointed, "Oh, Jeanne, what have they done with you this time? Where are you?"
Because the embassy had been no really help, he fell back to investigating the aspects of her message himself: dancing… serving… and the fact that she had at least once she had access to a radio transmitter. Those three things together seemed incompatible.
Now that the brothels had been searched, he concentrated on the restaurants with dancers that her message 'Dancing and serving' indicated. There were hundreds of restaurants with dancing and many dance studios in Dar es Salaam: Middle East belly dancing, Indian dancing, several different tribes' African dancing besides Swahili, and lots of German Beer Houses and with authentic Bavarian singing and dancing. A few English pubs and an Irish bar with line dancing had also gone into business for British businessmen and tourists now that Tanganyika was a British protectorate. You name the dancing style and cuisine, it was there in the city. He even tried going to the ballet, even as unlikely as it would be for criminals to go to an honest establishment like that. He checked them all out. He discovered there was nothing special about restaurant employees being dancers and waitresses or hostesses simultaneously. A lot of the girls did that to help bring in more money.
It never occurred to Jack that Jeanne would dance in a publicly lewd manner.
After nearly three months, he was very distressed about making little progress and no good leads. He was essentially six months or more late getting here because of the plane breakdown and now a year had passed with no sign of her. He tried the connection in vain many times. Since Karl-Heinz and Gunter's normal method of operation was staying in the German speaking circles of society, he concentrated on mostly those parts of the city.
After many weeks of walking every street and business in Dar es Salaam known to be associated with the old German rule, and certainly everything associated with dancing and eating, he wandered the more cosmopolitan European quarter and the new burlesque halls, which he learned were popular places for young people. After all the dead end trails and false rumors, knew he was running out of places to look. And out of time for her.
And then one day, wearing his fully hooded robe like most of the Middle Eastern population in the city, trying not to be conspicuous, he saw her, or actually the full size promotional poster for her. It completely threw him off balance. It was a perfect rendering of Jeanne.
Lovely La, Jungle Beauty
Featured solo act performed twice nightly
Popular clothing optional entertainment for adult gentlemen
It was definitely her face. But that is where the resemblance to her 13 year old girl image ended. She was a woman now in this city, 17 like he was, shown doing a most provocative pose in her full length red dress, feather headband, fully coiffed contemporary short 'flapper' hairdo, and feather boa that were the start of her strip tease act. They showed her darker than she really was to emphasize that she was indeed a 'jungle beauty'. He was angry that the French and British intelligence services had not seen this poster. But he realized that the military people and other priories, and to be honest, her 13 year old pictures really didn't look like her except through those haunting hazel eyes, cute nose and inviting mouth. Four years later than when met face to face, she had a woman's body, extremely short hair, and overly done makeup. He also realized that would be embarrassing for the military and diplomatic staff in Dar es Salaam to explain how they saw her poster on a burlesque street poster.
But he had finally found her. She was dancing right here nightly at this dance hall, which made him very uneasy that they'd forced her to do this. Jeanne, unbelievably, was the star attraction at the biggest strip club in town.
The poster art tended to exaggerate parts of her that men would be interested in seeing more of. It disgusted him that he was drawn to those parts too, and shook the temptation off. Tempting a person was too easy, especially one as pretty as her. He tried to put out of his mind that many men ogled her every night.
"Cherie, I am so sorry," he muttered.
He was totally ashamed and embarrassed for her. She was forced to twist her sweet, natural jungle Mangani beauty into the horribly decadent practice of strip tease.
If only he had thought of this situation earlier, they'd be together already. What other awful compromises had they forced on her? He noted that prostitution services were also thinly disguised on another poster. The ad read:
Private entertainment services available upon request.
Fees required. Inquire within.
It made him squirm. Akut's epithet about Dar es Salaam being a 'cesspool of human feces' didn't even half-way describe how awful this place was.
Jack touched the first poster unconsciously. He thought sadly, 'Dear God. My Jeanne is 'Lovely La'."
They even had to disguise her kidnapped persona to distract from Southwest Africa from finding her, and the kidnappers. It had worked pretty well until now.
But as twisted as they had made her, she was still beautiful, and he thought further, "I've found you. Now to rescue you safely this time."
Tonight he would catch her act and find out where she, Karl-Heinz and Gunter lived, and what her habits were. Over the next few days or so, he could find an opening to pluck her from her captors. Maybe he could somehow tip her off that he was finally here and get her cooperation in the rescue like she did at Walvis Bay. She'd only have to subject herself to this awful degrading burlesque dancing just a little while longer.
He tried his best to believe that she was doing this because she was forced to, not that she wanted to, and he thought, "No. She wouldn't. Not ever. Not my Jeanne."
He had to keep believing that.
He went back to his hotel, dressed in the English business suit he'd used at the embassy, making sure his weapons and tunic disguise were quickly accessible in the briefcase he brought with him, and carefully tucked his long hair into the matching popular bowler had to look much shorter. He used some coal black to color his beard and hair black. He absolutely wanted to make sure Karl-Heinz and Gunter didn't recognize him this time, as they likely worked in the dance hall too. Beards seemed to be popular, but he did trim his a bit. He put on some heavy rimmed glasses to help disguise his face more.
It galled him to buy an expensive ticket that was a twin bill so he could catch all of her numbers, and his heart was pounding until the lights went down and the curtain went up. He saw her. She was even more beautiful than the poster, but her black and silver burlesque costume barely covered her. She looked positively seductive, accented by the black gloves and hose and boots. The chorus line dancing wasn't actually that revealing or disturbing until she took her top off and shed her panties in the third act and started kicking with the other girls. Having all her femininity revealed by being topless and shown through the petticoats to the audience was a real shock.
He became very possessive and angry, thinking, "All that is mine and none of you can see it."
But later that night, he was even more staggered as he watched her truly incredible solo strip tease act flaunting every square inch of her beauty. He sat in as dark a corner of the dance hall a possible. He tried not to enjoy her very talented act, but to his chagrin, he truly did. He forced a smile, and applauded to fit in with all the other customers. He refused to whistle or cheer. It would attract too much attention.
He was very upset that her dancing caused an embarrassing response in him, which was fortunately hidden by the dark and the table, and was even angrier that her act probably caused every man in the audience to have the same reaction. He did order a couple of drinks from a cute cocktail waitress who never checked his age and was trying to flirt, but he was only polite and ignored her. He needed to make sure he looked like just another dirty-minded European who'd come here to pay money to stare at Lovely La.
He wondered how long Jeanne had been doing the strip tease act. Ironically being a stripper was pretty safe, as anyone who dared to touch her was ejected and beaten. He saw that happen once, and watched Karl-Heinz' fighting techniques as he pummeled and robbed the individual viciously. Despite how demeaning it was for the girls, there was oddly some safety to burlesque dancing, and it was truly ironic that her kidnapper was the one protecting her. Life was truly upside down here in her world.
He felt dirty just being here.
With everything in his being, Jack had to suppress the urge to swoop over on a chandelier, scoop Jeanne up into his arms, and swing away with her. Things would only get worse if he did. There were dozens of body guards here for the girls, and really only one entrance. He could see all the guards were armed. A lot of money and booze flowed here, including at the gambling and pool tables, and it needed the best protection. He would not be successful in an active rescue here. An small armed intervention by a team sent by Colonel Jacot would have failed in this situation.
Watching her movements more, it was was a relief to see that she was only a dancer and not a prostitute. There were others for that in disturbingly very busy rooms above them. There was not much interaction between the burlesque dancers and the prostitutes, other than the fact that right after Jeanne's solo, a number of men headed hurriedly upstairs to get in line for the girls.
He cried inwardly at everything she was forced to do. He could see the hurt in her eyes throughout all the time he saw her dancing in the chorus line and her solo act, especially even as she played to all these lonely and perverted men. Jack saw how quickly she covered herself in a dressing gown and then she disappeared without delay back stage, probably to her dressing room.
"Good girl…" he whispered.
What disgusted him the most is that he noticed Karl-Heinz and Gunter watched her solo act both times with tremendous enjoyment. Gunter had a physical reaction to her, which disgusted Jack. He mentally made sure he had enough bolts in the crossbow quiver.
Seeing her captors watch Jeanne dance nude and enjoy it immensely, Jack decided right then that Jeanne's rescue must be immediate. He dismissed his thoughts of observing a few days, possibly getting her attention secretly, and then escaping with her. This nightmare of being forced to completely expose herself to strange men every night for money needed to end and he absolutely had to exact his revenge on her leering kidnappers.
His single thought was, "Jeanne must be freed tonight."
He'd seen enough – actually too much - and was ashamed that he enjoyed her on-stage humiliation. Only one more chorus line number remained for her dance card for the night. This was not the tender reunion he had intended between them.
He climbed a back stair, found a back office access ladder, and climbed up into it. It looked like it would go backstage where he would wait for her to leave and then follow her home without her or her kidnappers knowing. He changed from his suit into his double layer tunic with the hood. He would be well disguised and be able to take her and hide her in the outer layer in the dark of the night, and get even with the kidnappers.
In the back stage and bar storage areas he saw Karl-Heinz and Gunter. They were doing a lot of hard labor jobs keeping areas stocked and cleaned and cleared. He avoided them totally. They were joking about Jeanne's ample assets and it disgusted him.
Disguised or not, Jack could not hide his handsomeness, and some of Jeanne's friends were working the tables, and they teased her after her act, "You should see the handsome young fella toward the back at table #17 who really enjoyed your act. Twice. He paid big money for you tonight. He was alone. He totally ignored my 'come on' plays. He was only interested in you. His eyes never left you the entire night. I bet he'd buy you a drink if you sat with him."
Jeanne was tired tonight and dismissed their idea, "I don't want anyone buying me a drink and have to fight them off me later. I drink too much already."
But she was curious. She peered out between the curtains. His table was empty and being cleaned for a young couple.
"I don't see anyone out there like that."
The hostess made a quick scan of the area and was saddened, "Awww, you missed him. He was a keeper, girl. Tall, very muscular, and a big beard. Pray he comes back another night."
"I don't care Rita, he's just another gawker."
"I hear men with beards are great lovers, Meriem. And it looked like he had a lot of long black hair tucked up into his bowler in what looked like dreadlocks up close. And believe me I tried to get up close to that hunk. His shoulders were dreamy..."
She had a thought, and then dismissed it entirely, "Dreadlocks? Could it be possible…?"
She may have missed Jack in disguise at the back, but she didn't miss the man in the front row in a white suit follow her backstage toward the dressing room, knock on the door, and ask for Meriem. It was him. Again. It was no surprise. He always came backstage.
She came to the door, and said with a false happy tone, "Hello, Mr. Farnsworth. So good to see you again tonight."
She wished she could just slam the door in his face but he was a regular client, and had give Siegfried many lucrative entertainment deals as a patron of the business. Including the harbor party during which they had made millions in other fees besides that remarkable tip.
"You were wonderful again tonight, as always. May I talk with you, Meriem?"
The act had not changed much since her debut as a full-fledged stripper, but he was there front row nearly all the time. He had no right to know more details about her adult body than her love Jack did. But there he was. Another night.
"Yes you may, but not without Siegfried and my dad listening. Forgive my mistrust of your intentions, Mr. Farnsworth, but this is a business and they need to hear everything you say if it concerns that business. I am an adult and here I'm one of Siegfried's employees. I'm on the clock. Anything that concerns me here concerns him. Be quick, please dear sir. I have a final number with the girls soon."
Siegfried interrupted, "Meriem, I have Trixie doing that last number. I think you need to listen to what Mr. Farnsworth has to say."
Jeanne gave Siegfried a curious look. He already knew what this was about. It couldn't be good.
Jeager made her very uncomfortable at the end, but it had started out innocently enough, and the dead man had been charming in most everyday situations. Farnsworth absolutely terrified her with his several times a week obsession with seeing her body. She only saw him in the dance hall. Something was wrong with that from the start, too.
"Fraulein Meriem. It's been over a year. I have watched your act many times. You are truly gifted in so many ways."
"Thank you, Mr. Farnsworth. I think you could do it for me," she joked but would never want to see Farnsworth naked.
Farnsworth stated invitingly, "I'd rather do it with you."
"What?" she asked, dumbfounded.
Quietly moving some liquor crates in the hall down from the dressing room that didn't need to be rearranged, Karl-Heinz shifted positions so he could get to his gun if needed. Siegfried couldn't defend himself - much less Jeanne - if this Farnsworth fellow made a grab at her. Jeanne could see her kidnapper was looking out for her on this. He thought there was something wrong about Farnsworth's obsessive attraction to Meriem too. But for all the wrong reasons. Karl-Heinz was only acting for the selfish reason of protecting his investment in Jeanne as a profit maker for him - not anything about the personal well-being for his eight plus year slave.
Farnsworth explained, "Over a year ago I offered you a considerable sum of money to jumpstart your strip tease career because you are that good. My money has obviously gone to a good cause."
She blushed hard with the praise, even if it was for all the wrong reasons, "Thank you, Mr Farnsworth. That night completely changed my entire life. I've made a whole lot of money for the dance hall then and since."
"She's my best dancer," Siegfried said confidently.
Farnsworth continued, "Here's another chance to make money, Fraulein Meriem. How much do you value your virtue?"
"I value it more than anything Mr. Farnsworth," she answered, taken aback by his bold question.
She pulled the full length buttoned robe tightly around her that covered her nakedness, but she still felt naked around him and those roving eyes.
"I am saving myself for marriage. I'm just a stripper. Showing my body is one thing, using my body is another thing. Mr. Farnsworth. You know that."
Farnsworth was more insistent, "No, Meriem, you didn't hear my question. I said how much do you value your virtue."
Jeanne was honest, "I don't think I could put a price on remaining a virgin until I marry my boyfriend. I do have one, Mr. Farnsworth. My age."
She was trying to push his advances away. She had been down that road before with another older man and nearly failed then. She knew better now. She was not fooled.
It was like he ignored her feelings in the matter completely, "Meriem, Karl-Heinz, and Siegfried. I would like to offer you and your business 2 million Pounds Sterling for a private dance and one night with you alone Meriem. I would imagine that would be a very attractive offer for all of you."
They were thunderstruck.
"I… I… I don't know. I don't think I could do that, Mr. Farnsworth. I'm sorry," she said tentatively, shocked she didn't have the urge to just slap him and run away.
There was something appealing about this staggering proposition she couldn't dispel, and she was disgusted in herself for not immediately dismissing this outrageous offer.
"Let's not be so hasty to make decisions," Siegfried schmoozed, "What Meriem meant is that we need to go talk about it."
Jeanne was upset with her boss, "But I didn't actually say…"
Her insides were in turmoil.
"Meriem let's go chat a few minutes. Shall we?" interrupted Siegfried insistently.
"OK…" she didn't push back even though her inner Jeanne was screaming to do so.
She went with her boss, Karl-Heinz, Margrite, and Gunter into Siegfried's office and closed the door. Unlike Jaeger, Karl-Heinz had secretly told Siegfried about what Meriem really was to him, but the show owner had kept that info to himself. Knowing she was Karl-Heinz'property rather than his daughter was a distinct advantage in negotiating with her.
Jeanne was wringing her hands, and looking aimlessly around in her chair. She knew what this offer could mean to her. In both profound and terrible ways. It was the ultimate conundrum for her.
Siegfried pleaded with his star dancer, "Meriem, dearie. All you have to do is be with him, entertain our best client completely for one night. A dance and your charms for him. If you do that one night, you get 2 million Pounds British Sterling. Free and clear. Think what that could do for you? For us? Just one night with him. That's all you need to do with him."
Karl-Heinz was emphatic too, "After that you are free to go. If you do this then you've worked off your indentured servitude. You can go home to the boy or wherever want, or start your own business free from everyone you know then and now. We don't care. You never have to tell the Viscount what happened. You'll still be his dream and the secret will be yours and ours alone. No more blackmail. You get your life back."
Margrite was for once proud of Karl-Heinz. He was honoring the deal.
Jeanne gave them a doubtful look, "I don't trust you. Now it's just one night, then it will be another and another and another and pretty soon I am Farnsworth's love slave. Or one of your upstairs hookers. You assholes said I'd never have to do this kind of business."
Karl-Heinz assured, "It really is just one time, Meriem. That's what we negotiated. Then we release you back to your parents. No more ransom. No more strings. You really will be free to go. What you do after Farnsworth is only your business now."
"Honey… it's just one guy and one night. Isn't one night worth 2 million Pounds for your freedom? I would. Karl-Heinz would just have to get over it," encouraged Margrite. Her moral standards were miles apart from Jeanne's, but the ease of Margrite's decision to take the money and run if it had been her still unsettled him a bit.
She was upset she got no support from her surrogate mother, "You are not me, Margrite."
Margrite responded, "You're really making a mistake if you don't take the money."
Jeanne called Margrite by her real name. Her real mother would never force her into a decision like this much less support it, "It's not you having sex with a creep. It's not your virginity. It's mine, Margrite."
Karl-Heinz was increasingly insistent, "One night Meriem, one damn night. That's all you need to do for this unbelievable 2 million offer. Easy money laying on your back."
She laughed out loud,"All I need to do? All? You aren't on the receiving end of this, Karl-Heinz. I still have my morals."
Gunter sneered at her, "After more than eight years with us and you still have morals?"
She glared at him. Leave it to Gunter to always insult her in the dirtiest way possible.
Despite her strong protestations, she was using the argument to buy time to think this all the way through. This really was too good to turn down by Jeanne, even though this was the last sacrifice of her moral fiber.
Her mind was in turmoil, "What a horrible choice: my freedom for one night of sex. Not love. Just sex. But... Jack said he would forgive me of anything I was forced to do. Anything."
She prayed that this discussion counted as 'being forced' rather than deciding on her own. Or at least she hoped he'd see it that way. He would honor forgiving her of this forced choice. No matter how horrible it was.
She looked at each and every one of them. He saw the pleading in their eyes. And she saw the greed, driven once again at her expense. The ultimate sacrifice she swore she would never ever do. But in those faces she saw the pain and sacrifice and compromise she suffered in eight years of harsh captivity. Her life would never be he same because of what they did to her and what they were even now doing to her by the latest forced choice.
"Well?" Karl-Heinz urged.
"I'm thinking," she snapped at him.
And she was thinking seriously, "Just one night… 2 million... Just one night… Freedom tomorrow… Just one night… I can go home to him and them… 2 frigging million Pounds Sterling."
She desperately wanted to replace these despised faces with the ones she loved. Just one final night in this nightmare and she could go home.
As they all watched her terrible internal struggle, Karl-Heinz gloated inside. He was so close to having accomplished his ultimate goal of getting Meriem deflowered and completely compromising everything she held dear and held fast to for her family and boyfriend. He would have the ultimate revenge in the end after all. One thing she'd never compromise and now she was just about to commit to do so.
All this was killing Jeanne inside. There was still no sign of Jack or her or his father and a rescue. Long ago she vowed to save herself by all means possible, whether it was Jack or escaping herself. And this was the means, no matter how disgusting it was.
In tears, she answered, "I'll do it. Oh dear God, forgive me, I will do it. But I leave in the morning. Pardon me if I don't say goodbye."
She couldn't believe she really could put a price on her virtue.
"Deal," Siegfried shook hands and all the adults all hugged in front of her. She couldn't be joyous.
She felt like she'd made a deal with the devil himself.
"I will tell him. And we're going to get this over with right now."
…
Jeanne emerged first from the office and walked up to the businessman. She said emotionlessly,"Mr. Farnsworth, my Father and Mother, and my boss and I have talked. In the best interests of my family, I will take you up on your most generous offer of 2 million Pounds for a night with you."
Farnsworth got a desirous grin a mile wide on his face and he replied anxiously, "I told you you valued your virtue. When?"
"Tonight. Now. before I change my mind, Mr. Farnsworth. I've never done this before and I will never do it for money again. I hope you are satisfied that you forced me into this."
Farnsworth reminded her, "Before my last offer, you never stripped before, and yet you have become the best stripper in town. I'm sure you will be the best at this too, if you'll just let yourself."
She ignored the compliment.
She was directing this as much as she could to be under her terms, "Siegfried. Let's use your house across the street. It's much prettier than our flat. Your bedroom. Karl-Heinz, you'll clean the sheets in the morning. Got it, 'Father dear'?"
Her kidnapper gave her a nasty look. Nothing could be more disgusting to him.
Outside the dance hall on the roof, Jack waited for her to finish her shift and follow her home, looking for the best situation to kill her kidnappers and escape with her.
But she and Karl-Heinz, Gunter, Margrite, her boss, and another man went toward his house, not hers. He'd looked it up in the employee records that she lived deeper in the city. He'd walked by her flat a half dozen times in his scouring of the city not realizing it her place, or seeing her out.
Jack took a closer look at the other man, and he whispered to himself, "Wait! That man is familiar. It's Mr. Farnsworth!"
It was the head of the Clayton Shipping Office in Dar es Salaam for his dad, the same man that made the deal with Jaeger in Southwest Africa – Mr. Farnsworth. His reward for that lucrative deal was to get the Dar es Salaam office leadership and make a deal to secure a shipping contract for Clayton Shipping Ltd. here too.
Jack was very suspicious and thought,"Is Mr. Farnsworth moonlighting as a business man for the burlesque hall or making some kind of deal my father would not approve?"
This wasn't right and he'd have to tell his dad as soon as he could after he rescued Jeanne.
Naïve and morally-straight Jack couldn't imagine the situation in which that Mr. Farnsworth wanted to bribe his sweet Jeanne to have sex with him. Or that she would agree.
Jack positioned himself see what was happening. He would not start anything unless it was clear Jeanne was in real danger. Mr. Farnsworth was a businessman, not a thug. It seemed like his presence here something to do with the business, and they all seemed cordial to one another. It would make sense for a secret deal to be made at the boss' residence away from prying eyes and ears. Any violence Jack might do was arrestable in this civilization. It would be tragic to save her only to be separated by the police and be put in jail for years or be executed.
Jeanne was wearing that red dress again with a wrap. Everyone seemed happy. Nothing seemed forced. Jack was cautious but not alarmed. Farnsworth was just a contract lawyer, one of his dad's most trusted senior employees. It did appear Jeanne was going to do a private showing, though heavily chaperoned by her captors, but Jack wondered where Mr. Farnsworth would get that kind of money. Jack didn't challenge them though, and he remained hidden on the rooftop. As disgusting as it seemed, Jeanne had been stripping for over a year. What would one more performance be, even if it was for Mr. Farnsworth? Eventually the disgusting show would end and they would go home. It was already nearly 3 am. The sun would be up not that many hours. A female was with them. He recognized the mixed race woman as Karl-Heinz' girlfriend and she enthusiastically hugged him. She seemed ecstatic and then hugged and kissed Jeanne, who seemed affectionate back. Whatever was happening, Jeanne appeared to be willing part of it.
…
Siegfried invited everyone in and said graciously, "Well here we are. Welcome to my humble abode."
Everyone laughed but Jeanne as they entered. It was very awkward. Finding the private bar, Margrite asked, "Can I get anyone a drink?"
"Me. I want the whole bottle," Jeanne demanded.
"Afterward, Meriem," cautioned Margrite.
"I want a big glass. Now."
She grabbed the vodka bottle out of Margrite's hand, poured it full to the brim, and chugged it like it was water. Some spilled down her red dress, and slammed the glass hard enough that it cracked. The older adults were pretty shocked at her alcohol tolerance.
She wiped the slight spill off, "OK, Mr. Farnsworth, let's do this."
Somehow it made her feel safer with her captors there right outside the bedroom door. If Mr. Farnsworth had something sinister in mind, she could scream and they'd hear it and could rescue her from him. He seemed like a mild mannered businessman. But behind that door alone, she was most likely on her own at the start of any incident.
Farnsworth was disappointed, "I'm sorry you don't find me attractive, Meriem. You are the prettiest woman I have ever seen."
Jeanne heard his hurt and actually tried to make him feel better. Now she wanted every pence of that 2 million Pounds and didn't want him to hold anything back, "It's not you sir, you know this is my first time. This is very hard, I have to get over my feelings about this and I'm worried I won't make you happy."
Farnsworth assured her, "Meriem, dear, you get 2 million no matter what you do, as long as you do it with me. Don't worry about technique. This is about having a nice night together with you."
She thought sadly, "This all sounds so clinical. Wham, bam, thank you ex-virgin ma'am."
She stalled, making idle talk, "I should have had Gina teach me something to make you feel good."
"No. Just like you are, dear."
It all seemed to all of them Farnsworth just wanted the first time experience with the young adult Meriem.
"Well. I think I'm about ready," she sighed and started to the bedroom.
He started in with her, but she put hand on his chest. It was squishy. He had man boobs. Her stomach turned. He was nothing like she imagined Jack to be.
"Mr. Farnsworth. I need some time to get ready in there. Give me about 5 minutes."
"OK," he greedily accepted.
She went into the room and closed the door and fought back the tears.
…
On their side of the door, Margrite was fretting, "Do you think she'll be OK?"
He shrugged, "No but she'll get over it. She's strong."
Margrite worried, feeling regretful about this now, "But Karl-Heinz. We'll have the money and she'll have only guilt the rest of her life."
Karl-Heinz snapped, "Ask me if I care one little bit? I want her to feel bad. After tonight she's on her own and her guilt over doing something wrong in her mind is her problem and not ours. But I'm worried she'll back out at the last second. Go in there and tell it's going to be just fine. You know how she is. Encourage her. Tell her she's doing the right thing for her and that boy to get back together again."
"OK."
Margrite shook her head. Karl-Heinz could be so loving to her and was always cold to this girl. Even after eight years, a life time of revenge against Jeanne and her family over Kamina was just hard to absorb, but she remembered it was only a few years ago she ruined all their lives in her second attempt to escape. She understood her husband's anger and vindictiveness.
…
Jeanne leaned against the other side of the door and cried a little, trying not to ruin her makeup. She was getting up enough nerve to remove her red dress and hide her knife for self protection. She couldn't. Not yet.
A knock came.
"Give me a freaking minute, Mr. Farnsworth," she snapped.
"It's just Margrite, dear. May I come in?"
Jeanne said with exasperation, "Yes, Margrite. Now what?"
Margrite just came in and closed the door. Despite getting no support to stop this from happening, they hugged stiffly, and Jeanne refused to call her 'Mom', "Oh Margrite, what do I do now?"
Margrite tried to help Jeanne rationalize what was going to happen, "It's all right dear. It will be over soon. Just go through it. It's not the end of the world. And then there's 2 million Pounds just waiting for you."
"I guess so," she shrugged, "I keep telling myself that a deal is a deal, Margrite, and I should know. I'm a bookkeeper. It's just business and I get a huge amount of money. But such a price. I sacrifice my virginity to a leech that creeps me out every night watching me, but I get enough money to leave this place forever. I get to go home and live the scars of being untrue to Jack for money all the rest of my life. And Farnsworth gets to brag he had his way with me. And Karl-Heinz too. He might as well be in bed with me, too."
Tears formed again. And Margrite sadly knew for certain that her husband would love a turn with Jeanne.
"Oh honey, it's not that bad. It's just one man and one night. Gina says they all feel the same."
She bristled at that, "Jack's not the same. Margrite, I was raised that women are to supposed to be true until their marriage bed. That's all I have left. Karl-Heinz took everything else I believed in, and in a few minutes that will be gone too. I feel like I am walking to my own execution."
Margrite tried to calm her, "Honey, that's just a little girl's dream. It doesn't work out that way. I should know. Karl-Heinz took that dream away from me a really long time ago, but it was really nice and I still love him and we are married now. Things will be fine with Jack. He'll still love you because you're back with him, like you both want. I promise."
Jeanne was still upset with Margrite's lack of sympathy, "In case you didn't notice when I was a little girl in your care, Margrite, I always believed if I could keep my purity. Jack would always want me no matter how bad things got. After tonight… who knows…"
Margrite felt the sting of her accusation and asked the hard question, "How do you know he has been true to you?"
Without hesitation Jeanne retorted, "Jack wouldn't do that to me. I trust him more than anything in the world to stay true."
Margrite reflected, "Is this any less bad than him not being true?"
Jeanne reiterated, "I told you why it is."
"He'll forgive you this. Would you forgive him if he did?"
Jeanne's mind was racing, "Yes… errr….at least I think so. It sort of depends on how untrue he was and why. I have a whole lot of bad things to be forgiven that are far worse than Jack being unfaithful while I'm not even there to love him every day. Including tonight."
Margrite smiled and grasped her shaking shoulders, "Well, there you go, honey. You answered your own question. No matter how bad anything you have both done, all you have to do is love each other enough to forgive the other."
Jeanne looked for once lovingly at Margrite, "Oh, Mom. Thank you. Now I know I can withstand this, and know he can to."
They embraced.
"Will you two hurry up in there?" asked a very impatient Siegfried, tapping on the door, "I have our best client waiting out here."
"I have to go," said Margrite softly.
Jeanne sighed deeply, "I know… it's time…"
She kissed Jeanne and said, "I love you, no matter what happens to you."
Jeanne didn't say anything. There was nothing for her to feel right now.
She sighed to herself, "OK…let's get this over and done with."
Afterwards, she wouldn't have to think about it any more, but she couldn't stop thinking about it.
She turned and looked at the enormity of the bed and the inevitability what was about to happen in it.
She kept trying to rationalize it as a 'business deal' for the price of her freedom. But she knew the terrible truth. If she did this deal, she would truly become completely like them. She will have sacrificed every moral she believed in on the very night before attaining her freedom - the very thing she vowed she would never do. This was the ultimate betrayal of Jack and what they could still have together. She could never look Jack in the eye and answer if he asked if she was still a virgin.
But she'd be free. Two million Pounds for one night with a stranger. But it all rang hollowly.
She stood tall and knew in her deepest thoughts, "Nice boys and rich English gentlemen don't marry whores, even the highest paid one time whore ever."
She remembered to pray, something she hadn't done yet. The answer came instantly back 'No, don't do this'. She thought of the things her real mother would say: she could get pregnant or get a horrible disease. She hadn't considered either. She had no idea if Farnsworth had relations with other women.
She started counting the days back from her last period.
"Ohmigod," she thought.
Tonight, Jeanne was at the peak of her fertility. The results of tonight would most likely be a lovechild with Farnsworth - a constant, aching reminder of this one awful night that would desecrate any relationship she might ever hope to have with Jack. No nobleman would ever marry a single woman with a baby out of wedlock. Not even the kind and understanding Jack Clayton. He wouldn't be allowed to by that society.
Jeanne froze and broke into cold sweat.
"This deal is off!" Jeanne thought and absolutely knew it in her heart and soul.
She needed to say 'no' in the strongest possible terms to Farnsworth… say 'no' to all of them, and damn the consequences.
She opened the bedroom door, closed it in back of her, and stood before them all, still in her red dress. Everyone could see the determined look in her eyes. She should have been buck naked for him.
"Are you ready, Fraulein Meriem? Is there something wrong?" Farnsworth asked tentatively.
She shook, and clenched her fists and shouted at him and the rest as loud as she could, "The answer is no, Mr. Farnsworth! No, no, no! I am not taking your money for sex with you. There is not enough money in the whole world to make me spend one night with you."
Everyone was totally paralyzed in shock. Except Farnsworth. His anger boiled over instantly.
Farnsworth yelled at her and everyone else, "Meriem, you double-crossing slut! This was a deal, a promise! Siegfried, we made a bargain. Karl-Heinz, you're her father. Make her do this."
"I obviously can't make her do anything," Siegfried stated. There was a part of him that he didn't want to force her. Forcing her was a different matter altogether.
Karl-Heinz said sternly, "You said 'yes'. You can't change your mind now, Meriem."
Jean screamed at her kidnapper, "Oh yes I can, Karl-Heinz. I can still say 'no' at any time. You can force me to be your slave another five years and I will never do this."
Farnsworth had no idea what that meant, but he yelled, "If none of you will make her do it, then I will take care of this myself!"
But Farnsworth didn't force himself on her. The man rushed headlong at her and grabbed her by the throat and shouted, "Die, bitch!"
Jeanne immediately started choking, clawing at his hands to no avail, and it panicked her more to see no one was stopping Farnsworth's attack, "No! Stop! Someone, please help me! I… I change my mind. I'll do it."
Farnsworth increased his grip on her neck and his deep scowl became furious, "No! It was now or never. You chose never. You tricked me. No one does that."
Farnsworth kept squeezing her neck and the sounds of her gasping got more strained and desperate. Her face went pale. She was utterly panicked and flailing. Her kidnappers and her boss were going to let the man kill her in front of them. None of her street fighting skills worked. He was too big and she had absolutely no leverage. He was much stronger than he appeared.
His smile got more satisfied watching her weaken, "I'll tell the cops you attacked me during your 'trick'. It will be self defense that I killed you."
Margrite was getting more panicked. No one was doing anything to help her. Suddenly she lunged for Karl-Heinz' revolver and pointed it right at the Englishman, "Mr. Farnsworth, step away from my daughter. Now!"
He didn't let up. Jeanne's eyes were rolling back in her head and gagging weakly. She was about finished. What Margrite was doing to save her was a distant fog.
"Or you'll do what?" he cackled. The others couldn't believe Margrite was wielding a gun, yet made no move against her.
"This!" she shouted as she pulled the trigger and shot Farnsworth in the arm. He yelled and doubled over seizing his arm. He immediately let go of his prey. Jeanne collapsed on the floor, clutched her throat, and gasped for air in great heaving spasms.
The other men were in shock that Margrite actually shot Farnsworth, and she alternately pointed the gun at all three as well as him, moved to Jeanne's side protectively, and said through gritted teeth, "Don't you dare touch my daughter. Any of you. I will shoot again."
Across the street on the rooftop, Jack heard the gunshot and looked for an immediate way down, but he wasn't the only one who heard, and unseen by anyone, Siegfried had tripped an alarm at his house that signaled the guards in the dance hall. A dozen of Siegfried's men ran across the street, guns drawn. One had an American gangster-style tommygun, which was intimidating. It froze Jack in place.
The men stormed the house and established a protective perimeter outside. For the men in the house, Siegfried signaled them to put their guns down for a moment.
Farnsworth got up, still cradling his arm, grabbed a bar towel to staunch the bleeding, and fumed, "So… the other bitch comes to the rescue. Nothing like a mother's love for her child. Well, you made a huge mistake, Meriem. A two freaking million Pound mistake. And a lot more by the time I am done with your business, Siegfried. This deal is off. Pray that every deal I have with you isn't off. Get rid of the little whore and her family, or I'll never contribute another farthing to your business and the harbor party will go to your competitor. You got that?"
Siegfried remained calm, "I understand Mr. Farnsworth. I will do as you say."
Farnsworth raced for the front door through the armed guards, stood on the porch and screamed, "Mark my words, Siegfried, get rid of her or else!"
Jack overhead the words. He saw that it was Farnsworth that was shot, not his precious Jeanne, but the man hurled a threat at her. Something terrible just happened between her and Farnsworth. With a dozen guns around and in the burlesque show's owner's home, he was forced to just watch.
Farnsworth knew he had to get to a hospital, and he would say nothing to the police. He had his clean cut reputation and that of the Count's to maintain. His wife would be here in a few days for one last try at keeping the marriage together, and he would explain to her and to Count Clayton he was mugged and shot and left for dead.
Jack thought about following Farnsworth, but his single focus was on saving Jeanne as fast as practicable.
Back at Siegfried's home, it was still a standoff. Margrite looked like a crazy woman, still brandishing the gun. Karl-Heinz spoke calmly and held his hand out, "Margrite. Be calm. It's over. You saved Meriem. Give me the gun. Please. There will be no more violence. I promise. It's really over."
She searched her husband's face for trust and no trickery, shook her head tentatively yes, and reluctantly gave up the gun. There was a collective sigh of relief, but Siegfried kept his men there. He had another idea.
Margrite soothed the sobbing, still breathless Jeanne, kneeling on the floor.
Siegfried simply stood and his anger grew, "What the hell, Meriem? We had a deal with our best customer," and he added in annoyance, "Our former best customer…"
She gulped for air as she tried to explain, still sobbing as she spoke, "Siegfried, I am so sorry, I couldn't… I just couldn't… It was just too horrible to imagine. Freedom wasn't worth doing it with Farnsworth. He would have gotten me pregnant tonight. Today is my peak time. Jack would never forgive me. He got angry and tried to choke me because I… I wouldn't… and none of you tried to save me but Margrite. You were going to just let me die. You all disgust me. I hate all of you."
She returned to wailing in Margrite's arms.
Siegfried ignored her plight he was so angry, "You little bitch! You cost us 2 million Pounds and God knows how much more future business. You're fired, Meriem. I never want to see your face again, even as a bum in the gutter outside my dance hall. I gave you every chance and you can't give me one goddamn night with someone for your own good and the good of the business?"
Meriem pleaded, "I'm sorry. I will work extra hard. Please take me back."
"You could never work hard enough to make up 2 million. Besides, Farnsworth is a regular and he explicitly said he doesn't want to see you in my establishment. I'm sorry, Meriem. You may be able to stay in this business, but you'll work for someone else."
Then Siegfried snarled at Karl-Heinz, "Can't you control your wife and slave? I thought slaves had to obey everything you ordered them to do."
Before Karl-Heinz, could reply, Siegfried unleashed on them, "In fact, you're all fired. Go somewhere else to work. None of you are worth this much trouble. There are plenty of bartenders and thugs I can hire in this city."
Jeanne knew she had just ruined the crime family's life a second time. She made one more try, "But I'm your star act. There's plenty more customers than Farnsworth. You'll get lots of money besides his."
"And none of them care about who's stripping as long as I give them plenty to look at. Helga was my star act before you, bitch. No one even asks what happen to her, not even her dancer friends. You are all just one bad performance away from being a liability to me. You, Meriem just cost me 2 million Pounds maybe a lot more with my best customer. That's what you are now. A liability. Clean up and get the hell out of my house. Be someone else's star act."
He stormed out, walked to her poster, tore it down and ripped it to shreds in his anger.
Jack watched what happened, and Jeanne was at the center of something terrible. A dozen men stood between him and finding out.
It was Karl-Heinz' turn to lay into her, "Why, Meriem? You had it made here. This was even better than with Jaeger. Siegfried and Farnsworth gave you chance of a lifetime to be a star performer and free as of tonight. You squandered both by one idiotic 'no'."
"So what are you going to do to me now, Karl-Heinz?" she asked a question that had been asked a thousand times since she was nine, and all of the answers had been bad for her.
"Get your things, girl. We're going to another place," Karl-Heinz nodded to Gunter.
Gunter took her personal knife from the back of her dress, but she resisted,"I want my knife back, Gunter."
"I'm keeping it for now," and he put it in his back pocket.
Margrite was really puzzled, "Karl-Heinz, what dance hall is going to take Siegfried's star performer at this hour?"
He said smugly, "A lot of people want Lovely La on their signpost. You'll see, my dear."
They left the house, escorted out by the guards, who then went back to the dance hall. Everything seemed completely wrong to Jack, but he held back still. They were walking in the general direction of their apartment. He followed them by leaping rooftops and perching on poles like branches on trees in the jungle. They all hurried down the street. Karl-Heinz and Gunter seemed too close to Jeanne, and they were rushing her along. Whatever happened tonight, Jeanne did not appear injured. He followed them. keeping to the shadows. He was about to make a move in a spot with a lot of cover when he saw both men had guns aimed at her back. They could simply kill her if he made his move now. He had to get them separated. He kept following.
Jack wondered, "Where are they going?"
Jeanne wondered too, she didn't know of any burlesque halls in this part of town and none of the bars around their apartment had live entertainment. And then she saw where they were taking her.
This was no new dance hall for her to try out.
It was the city's unspeakable slave market.
She turned around with her face blanched in fear, "No! Not this! What did I do to deserve this?"
Margrite also turned in fear to her husband and yelled, "How can you do this to her, Karl-Heinz?"
She was about to lash out, but felt a knife at her ribs from Gunter. It was Jeanne's knife.
The henchman growled, "One move or one word you scream to save her, and this is in your gut, Margrite. Pray he doesn't sell you here too."
It was clear this had been planned for some time by both men.
She remained silent.
Karl-Heinz answered smugly, "Why, Meriem? You said 'no' one too many times, slave girl. You cost us too much money. And you just cost us our jobs. Again. Tomorrow, you are someone else's problem. I am totally done with you. What little you're worth to me now I'll get for you in the morning."
"I'm almost 18, Karl-Heinz. You agreed I give me my freedom. I'm an adult. What about our deal?"
Things had been going so comfortably well as the best stripper in town, and she was completely on track to earn the last of her ransom, so she hadn't really worried until today. Until everything in her life completely disintegrated in the last three hours.
"I lied. And you said 'no'. That made it easy. You may be nearly 18, but there are lots of adult slaves in this world. And one like you is at your prime. The money I get for you tomorrow will keep us alive until I get a new job. You keep forgetting you have never once been free since I kidnapped you. You do not own your own will. You've been my slave since 9. I can still do what I want to maximize my profit on you. I was making plenty of profit until now. You're too much a liability. I got fired over you, girl."
Slavery had never been truly abolished in this part of the world. The Tanganyikan slave capital was Bagamoyo, which thrived for the past 200 years, and was only a few kilometers to the northwest of Dar es Salaam, but when the British outlawed slavery officially in 1873, the slave trade went underground. It was never spoken of, and theoretically it didn't exist, but still happened daily in this dreary secluded place. The new English rulers, like the Germans before them, looked the other way from the payoffs they received from the slave merchants. It was a substantial sum.
There were fires and torches were already lit to prepare for the next slave sale in the morning. The 'merchandise' and their owners and buyers were gathering already in the dim light of predawn. There were armed guards everywhere, and even a machine gun tower.
Jack saw it too. He immediately decided to confront and save her right now, but now there were even more guns, not only from her captors, but gun nests ringing the slave market and patrolling guards. He wasn't sure if they were to protect the buyers from any raids or to gun down any slave that dared escape. He shuddered at how such a place could exist in the 20th Century. One word by Karl-Heinz and he would be shot as well as Jeanne. The grounds around the slave market were open and flat and there was nowhere to dodge or hide. It would be a killing field. There had to be another way to save her. But he was rapidly running out of ways to rescue his love. At this point he was actually hoping for the appearance of the French Special Forces with their guns blazing, but he was really, truly on his own now.
Jack was certain of one thing: Jeanne, who had been considered a slave by Karl-Heinz, even though she was a kidnap victim, was going to be sold as a real slave, and there was only one nonviolent thing he could do about it.
Jack would have to bid for Jeanne and purchase her at the slave auction.
Jack couldn't believe that all the money he brought with him, which he had intended to confront and pay off the kidnappers the balance of the ransom, was now going to be used to buy his girl, competing against a building full of bidders.
He saw them check in her with the auctioneer and fill out the paperwork and fees. She was handcuffed. It was stomach turning - like selling cattle. Jeanne had a blank, emotionless stare. The man pointed them to a tent in the most heavily lit area. Jack saw nothing that would allow him to swing in and grab her and escape. Except for the auction block and the chaining pole, the area was very austere and devoid of any cover. They went to one of the slave preparation tents and pulled the curtain closed.
Unseen by them, Jack registered as a buyer and paid the expensive fees.
Inside the tiny tent, Jeanne felt like a wild animal in a cage. There was nowhere to sit down.
Karl-Heinz demanded, "Make her pretty, Margrite or I will sell you too."
She did as she was told. She was under gunpoint too, and threatened with slavery twice now. Margrite vowed to leave him. With Jeanne's failed prostitution night with Farnsworth, selling her as a slave, and being forced at gunpoint and knife point with terrible threats, Karl-Heinz had destroyed their marriage forever.
Margrite readjusted Jeanne's red gown, and asked her sheepishly, "Honey, they want nothing underneath."
"And if I refuse?" Jeanne asked, still defiant.
Karl-Heinz answered, "Then you go on sale totally naked like the other slaves."
Angry beyond words, Jeanne shimmied out of her red undergarments without showing anything, which really disappointed Gunter.
Margrite fluffed her hair and made her makeup very heavy to make her look a lot older. In addition to the cuffs, was held at gunpoint by her kidnapper so she'd not scream or bolt.
At one point Jeanne thought she'd be better dead than a slave, and wondered if she could grab the gun and shoot herself. She realized that would be yet one more sin, one that was truly unforgivable. Maybe somehow Jack could still find her after she was sold.
Karl-Heinz ordered her, "Ditch the glasses, Meriem. You'll bring less value."
"I can't see my buyers," she complained.
Gunter took them and pocketed those too with her knife.
Her kidnapper laughed, "It doesn't matter. You don't need to see them. They are buying you, girl. You aren't choosing dance partners. It's the other way around. You don't choose them, they choose you."
Not being gagged, at least yet, she spit in Karl-Heinz' face for the millionth, but last time.
He wiped the hot slimy spittle out of his eyes, "Dammit, Meriem, I can't tell you how much I am really going to miss that."
...
Author's Notes: Our dear sweet Jeanne, despite all temptations for the 'easy' way to her freedom that would haunt her forever, did the 'right thing' and said 'no' before it was too late, but now it looks like at a terrible personal cost. Can Jack win the bidding for Jeanne before he is discovered by Karl-Heinz and Gunter? And if he doesn't, then what? More to come on Friday.