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(This is a challenge, a Mystery in several episodes, each one finishing with a clue, a riddle or a puzzle. For you to solve.. The answer unlocks another part of the story. Are you clever enough?)
“Has everything been set in motion?”
A cold voice sounding from behind the granite desk, set on heavy, teak legs, polished with the greatest attention into a deep shine. The surface of the desk flawless, just lined with a phone. A small desk light lights the surfcace, revealing the intricate veins embedded in the stone, casting a shadow hiding the man sitting in the chair behind the large desk. The man standing in the cenre of the room, flanked by an enormeous marble hearth, immaculatly dressed in a black suit, his hands folded behind his back, nods his head as he confirms the question.
“Yes sir, the package has been sent. It should arrive tomorrow morning, at the break of dawn”
“Very well, you may leave”
The soft leather of the chair whispers almost silently as the man leans back and folds his hands under his chin, his fingers pulling slowly on a white goatee. His eyes closed, a small smile curling his lips. He ponders for a moment, before he leans forward again, the fluent movements of his body, betraying full control over it. He picks up thephone, pressing a single button.
“See to it the package is delivered on time. Exactly on time...”
Without awaiting an answer, the phone is put down, the man leaning back in the chair again, eyes closed, hands folded under his chin, fingers caressing the white hairs springing from his chin.
The streets lined with fog, clouds of sharred mist washed through the streets of the early morning. A dark van stopping at the corner of a street, lights dimmed, idle for a few minutes before a door is opened. A man, dressed in an immaculate black suits gets out of the car, a small package clenched under his arm. He closes the door silently while his head turns all directions, his eyes peircing through the grey of the morning. The sun is about the break from the confinement of the horizon, the sky colouring a deep orange in the distance. It’s the break of dawn.
After convincing himself he is alone on the street, he quickly walks up the stairs towards the entrance of the large colonial mansion. His soes lined with rubber soles, his steps make no sound as he walks over the deck to the main entrance. He places the package down carefully, in front of the door, a few feet away, catching the light of the Victorian lantern that is mounted above the door. He chekcs his surroundigs again, carefully, taking his time to ensure he is alone and unsees. Then he pushes on the doorbell, waiting for a light to go on in the house. As he hears the first stumbles of people wakening up, he hastily hides in the shadows and makes his way back to the van.
Parked in the shadows of a big oak tree, he slips in unseen, watching the house from a distance. The night vision binocualrs pressed tightly to his eyes, he sees a light wash over the veranda, the package suddenly bath in light. A man steps outside, looking around carefully before he steps in and looks at the package. As he turns it from all sides, jiggling it close to his ear, he starts to retreat slowly, the light on the veranda starting to fade as the door is closed. With a soft sigh, the man places the goggles away and starts the car, leaving the spot with dimmed light. A minute later, another car is started, a black sedan, slowly moving through the street with dimmed light, only to halt at the mansion for a moment. The lights on in the front of the house, the car waits a few seconds, before almost silently pulling up, disappearing at the curve in the street.
On the granite desk, the room slowly getting lighted by the first rays of the morning sun, the phine rings. Before it can ring twice, it is picked up.
“Is it done?”
The phone put down without another word, the soft whisper of the chair as the man leans back, folding his hands under his chin as his fingers caress the white hairs springing from his parched skin.
***
Dazed, my eyelashes sticking together from the sleep that collected in the corners of my eyes, I wake up and try to figure out where I am. Lost in dreams, drifting still in clouds as I met my Angel there, I look around. The room already getting lighter, the sun just breaking through the horizon, emitting it’s first rays down. I push the covers off me, search for my robe on the chair and get out of bed. Slipping into the arms, I’m not bothered with tying the strap, letting the panels float free as I walk out of the bedroom. I descend the large staircase at the centre of the house and move towards the central hall. Wondering why I bought a house this size.
Sleepy I open the door, not sure what to expect from a caller this early in the morning. The cool breeze of the morning washes over my face, freshening me up immediatly as I expectingly swing the door open. I look outside, only to find noone there. A curse in my mind, damned kids... They should be around somewhere. I turn my head in all directions, dileberately ignoring the package at my porch. As my searching eyes find no target, I direct my attention to the package. Wrapped in a newspaper, a small label attached, looking rather insignificant. I pick it up with hesitation and hold it to my ear. Noticing the label, I glance my eyes over the black letters, hand written on parchment, so delicate it almost seems to crumble as I hold it in my hands.
“In Ultimum Donum”
What the... ? In Ultimum Donum? That name... My skin collecting in deep wrinkles as I frown, trying to dig deep in my memory.. A name I once heard before.. but where... what.. What was it that calls for that eerie feeling? A shiver runs down my spine as I feel my mind cloaked with a dark sense. I step back inside, my focus on the little box and the parchment lable. I move to my study, a large room at the front of the main house, its private entrance for meeting business associates, lined with shelves, filled with books, a dark oak desk set up at the window.
I turn the switch and immediatly the study is bathing in light, making me squint my eyes as they slowly get used to the brightness. I place the box on my desk and sit in my chair, looking at it for minutes while my mind searchs for that little crossroads in my brain that opens the door to the memory.. What does that name mean... “In Ultimum Donum”... Suddenly I notice the newspaper that is wrapped around the box. It’s a single page, yesterday’s date at the top, filled with colums and colums of personal adds, from lonely souls looking for that unique connection, to prostitutes solliciting for clients. One add catches my eye. Seperated from other adds through 2 large intteruptions in the columns, 3 letters are printed.
(http://img571.imageshack.us/img571/9963/iudj.jpg)
My eyes shoot from the paper to the label and back, a suspicion growing in the back of my mind, a tingling sensation creeping up my spine as I let the notion sink in... This isn’t a coincidence... Certain of my suspicions, I start to open the paper, careful not to tear it. Somehow the paper seems to let loose as soon as my finger pries underneath and soon I can let my hands rub over it, smoothening it out on my desk. I study the single message again, but without finding a resolution.
I shift my focus to the box, the cardboard discoloured, a thin hemp tie keeping the lid on the bottom. I take the box in my hand and shake it near my ear, hearing something rattling inside, something metal maybe, but wrapped? I slowly start to pull on the loose ends of the tie and release the knot, slowly taking the lid off the box. The box is practically empty, just a zip-lock bag with a small steel key, engraved with a code. In black marker, 3 letters are written on both sides of the bag: GCS
I raise my eyebrows. Of all the mystery wrapping around this morning, this riddle is too easy to solve. Being in New York, there can be only one meaning to those 3 letters. Grand Central Station. The key must be a locker key. This seems to contradict everything I have felt since I saw the three letters on the little label. Maybe someone is playing a prank on me and something will explode in my face when I open the locker at GCS. If that is really what it is. I open the bag carefully and take out the key. I look at the code, but no lights suddenly switch on above my head.
As I push the small box to the side, I accidentally hit the mouse of my laptop and find it turned on. I decide to satisfie my curiosity and type in: IUD. The screen fills with pages about spirals, birthcontrol, medical transcripts and reports. No reference towards the eerie feeling I had before. But then I follow a hunch, an idea that jumped up in my mind and I enter the code of the key. Suddenly the screen goes black, all leds on my laptop start to blink and the fan stops running. In completely silence, the atmosphere in the room suddenly heavy, pressing down on my shoudlers as a heavy burden, golden letters start to fade in on the screen and as soon as they are loaded, the fan starts working again and the leds return to normal. Slowly the letters start to scroll, a message displayed line by line..
“In Ultimum Donum”
Congratulations, you have proven your worthiness
Great surprises await you, be vigilant always until the final night
Look for the hints, solve the puzzles
Make your benificiary proud and collect your prize
Be on time, at the right place...
Cold sweat starts to bead on my forehead as my eyes read line by line, my pen scribbling on a note pad, before the text disappears in black again. Before I can really let the words sink in, the screen flashes and suddenly a feed from a camera is shown, a bed, silk sheets curved around the long, slender legs of undoubtedly a woman. The camera zooms out, revealing more of her body, her lower body slides into the frame, uncovered from sheets, out of sight by a slender hand that cups her sex, fingers moving vividly. My eyes flare open as I see the body moving on screen, the hips of the woman circling, grinding against her hand. Her thumb is circling her clit, her fingers moving over her button in swift motions, clearly leaving a film of moisture behind before the thumb resumes the soft swirl.
The speed of her bronzed fingers quickens, her digits disappearing between her legs, the silence suddenly broken by a whimper of pleasure. My eyes wide open, captured by the elegance of the woman, her selfpleasuring not distracting me from the beauty of her body, as far as the camera allows me to see. The silk sheets are of a high quality, the edge of the matress disclosing an expensive brand, by sheer appearance alone. Someone has gone through a lot of trouble for this scene and it is definitly meant for me. Excited by the sight, the soft, coarse voice of the woman now sounding deeper and more frequent, her pleasure rising with each move of her fingers.
My member showing a clear response to the scene on my laptop, growing quickly to a full erection. As if my mind is read, my hand touching myself, the woman opens her legs, slides her fingers out and shows her dripping sex to the camera. She holds her position for a few seconds while soft sucking and slurping sounds are heard, then her fingers reappear, pinching her clit before they are pressed into her wetness again. Her soft moans become louder as she finds her rythm, my hand moving unnoticebly in the same speed, precum collecting at the head as I slide the foreskin up and over it, over and over again. My moans start to mix in with hers and I have the feeling as if she is tuning into me, as if she can hear and see me as clearly as I her. ..
But the desire washes all thoughts away, my dream had stimulated me already and the scene of this beauty masturbating for me, closing in on her own climax, is too arousing to ignore. I let all reservations go and concentrate on the screen, where the woman’s hand is now plunging in and out of her sex, her inner thighs and pelivs coated with her own juices, her body pushing into her own fingers. I gasp, grab my chair with my free hand and scream a silent scream of pleasure as I erupt, my semen jetting up, covering my abdomen, forming a little pool in my belly button as it drizzles down. At the same time, the moans of the woman turn into a long stretched scream as her legs clench, her hand folds and her juices start to squirt from her lips, her body trembling with the force of her release. And then the screen goes blank, my laptop shutting down without warning.
I blink, my hand and stomach covered in semen, then look aorund to find myself in my study, the evidence of the mystery all around me. The box, the newspaper page, my body still trembling from the scene, the scribbled text of the opening message. I look around and find some hankerchiefs, cleaning myself quickly before restrarting my laptop again. Quickly I open my browser and type in the key-code again, only to find an empty page, a mislocation message blinking in the screen. I lean back, the thoughts in my mind tumbling over eachother when suddenly the laptop blinks again, brightly enough to permanently burn a message into the screen:
“a circling light, cast out at night
a warning for the shore
Unconnected, unprotected
Battered by the sea
A stand alone, Uncomfort zone
Stoney roots beneath the merky waves”
***
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mmm. I've read this several times and each time I read it , there seems to be more questions than answers lol ... arr Tight you are going to drive me mad with this.
ok - First thoughts ...
Is the code, the key or does the key actually open something? Is GCS really Grand Central Station, New York or is there another meaning mmm
I.U.D = In Ultimum Donum is obviously Latin and translates to The Ultimate Gift.
The ultimate gift could mean different things to different people .. does it mean money - riches beyond your wildest dreams or valuable lessons and experiences of life or the birth of your first child, or maybe even giving this young man experiences of different levels of sexuality to make him the best considerate ultimate lover mmm ok .. my minds going to wonderful places now lol
Who is this strange man with the white beard. He appears rich and appears to have an air of authority to command, direct and give orders in delivery of the package. A family member perhaps, an old family friend keeping a promise?
And the recipient - Why target this young man? What is their connection? mmm Theres a hint he could remember something in his past mmm
ok, the riddle :- " A circling light cast out out at night , a warning for the shore" ... Its got to be a light house hasnt it? presumably in New York or close to it. As this seems to be where the recipient is based.
"Unconnected, Unprotected, battered by the sea ".. ok so i'm looking for a more dangerous area of the shore, where there is no lighthouse or warning light or maybe a small island, in a tricky location.
" A stand alone, uncomfort zone " Ok something, that stands alone and has no dependencies, believed to perform a single function, that is in such a location as above - somewhere maybe uncomfortable in mind or location , eery perhaps
" Stony roots beneath the murky waves" Tends to suggest a buliding maybe, an old lighthouse, a smugglers hideaway.
mmm Does this ring any bells to a native of New York?
Like I said ... this is driving me mad already lol. I am probably way off base lol... Good luck folkes. Cant wait for the next installment :)
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The riddle is the key.. one part guessed, the other too ripped up to bare meaning...
a good effort ms Brandy...
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hehe its not a game for me , as i dont understand all as needed in this kind of games ;D
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Ok, TY Tight for the clue and encouragement :)
"Unconnected, unprotected , Battered by the sea , A stand alone, uncomfort zone
Stony roots beneath the murky waves"
Ok... Is this a bridge over the sea - windy to people / cars crossing over?
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A bridge... There is a connection :) but no, the answer is not correct..
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Hiya's....
The Ultimate Gift is all the panties returned. It's the Kissing Bandit!! Arrest that man!
In the town where I live there is a tunnel that goes from the middle of town to an inlet that is about a mile away. It was used by smugglers during prohibition.
But for this, I am thinking a Lighthouse, with the circling light.
Thanks for letting me share,
Pafe
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I also think it's a ligthouse:
"a circling light, cast out at night
a warning for the shore
Unconnected, unprotected
Battered by the sea
A stand alone, Uncomfort zone
Stoney roots beneath the merky waves”
But I'm not sure if this is the whole answer.
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" Unconnected, unprotected
Battered by the sea
A stand alone , uncomfort zone
stoney rootes beneath the murky waves"
Its a causeway - stony roads under the sea at times, leading to the mount of the lighthouse but not connected to the actual lighthouse.
Is lover right? - is Lighthouse the whole answer lol. MMM I feel pay back coming if it is lol
(I've eliminated a smugglers hideaway ; or a creepy castle on a hill thrashed by the sea)
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Lighthouse is correct, but it is only a part of the answer...
"a circling light, cast out at night, a warning for the shore = Lighthouse
Unconnected, unprotected
Battered by the sea
A stand alone , uncomfort zone
stoney rootes beneath the murky waves = ???
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A small island, like a holm or atoll?
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*smiles*
now put the two together for the first complete hint for the final night...
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It's a lighthouse on a small atoll.
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Yay - Congratulations Lover. Solved at last. Cant wait for the next installment :)
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So now you have the What.. what's left is the Where, the When and the Who..
Next episode will be posted before the weekend ends...
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***
The soft humming of a server fills the room with a murmuring noise, bouncing off endlessly against the cold, concrete walls. An iron-framed desk is set up in the middle of the basement, a glass desktop with a keyboard and a mouse, a frame holding 9 monitors, each feeding information to the person leaning back in a ragged, old armchair. Peering at the screen, two slender hands hovering over a keyboard, a young woman takes in the information offered on the screens. Her long, slender legs folded over eachother, her short skirt hiked up her well formed thighs, an observant watcher might notice the absence of panties, just detectable in the dimmed light of the room.
A steel door at the back of the room, slides open almost without making a noise and slowly he steps through the door. His hands folded behind his back, dressed immaculately in a black suit, a white shirt and orange tie, a coat of arms woven in as a motive. Silently he walks into the room, ending next to the armchair, his eyes fixed on the screen. He releases his hands and brings one to his chin, slowly stroking his fingers along the white hairs, sprouting from his face.
“Ella, did he get the message”
Without turning the girl answers in a honey-sweet voice, her slender fingers still moving rapidly over the keyboard, entering commands as she leans back and stretches. As she does, she pushes her chest up, allowing her visitor a look in her cleavage, but to her slight disappointment, the man keeps looking at the screens in front of them.
“Yes sir, he got the message and he reacted quite explosive to the little show we gave him”
“We?”
The man pulls on his beard and responds sharply to her giggle. It irritates him when his employees loose sense of their task and become too laconically. As he watches the screen at the centre, the small cam perfectly hidden in the ceiling, the lense aimed at the desk in the study of the New York house, he puts his hand on the armchair and turns it to him, demanding the attention of the girl.
“Ella, always reflect on your task. There is no time for pleasantries or fun. Focus on your task”
The girl twitches uneasily in her chair, the eyes of the man locking hers, preventing her to look away. She feels her cheeks start to burn as he corrects her behaviour. For a moment, excited with the view of the man orgasming, she forgot her place and took the wrong liberties. She swallows the lump away and focusses on her keyboard and screens as soon as the man releases her eyes.
“Yes sir, I will keep it in mind. I wanted to inform you also, the preparations for the choice have been made. Whenever you desire, it can be set in motion immediatly”
He releases his beard, his eyes squinting almost unnoticably with pleasure, the preperations done almost a full day aheadof schedule. His hands fold behind his back again, looking over the young, pretty girl one more time before he turns and walks back to the entrance, the steel door opening automatically as he nears it.
“Check them again, and then again. I will not tolerate mistakes”
***
After a few moments, my eyes flaring wide open as the message burns into the screen of my laptop, then the speed of the fan slowing down, the automatic shut down sequence started. I grab the computer quickly and press all possible key combinations to stop it from shutting down, having no time to write down the message. But as the screen goes black, the letters remain visible, the screen ruined with the intensity of the message. I fall back into my chair, my eyes glued to the letters on screen, my mind starting to disect it immediatly.
But then I see my hands, look down and see my abdomen covered in what now has turned into a sticky puddle of semen. I giggle, get up from my chair and whipe the sticky mess of my skin with my t-shirt, twisting it into the ball as I walk upstairs to the bathroom. I turn on the shower and undress quickly, hopping under the warm wash of water and start to soap in my hair. I go through the events of this past hour again. The caller early in the morning, the package with the personals page of the newspaper, the one strange add. Then the key in the ziplock bag, with “GCS” written on it. The keycode offering access to a webpage, telling me I am worthy and should stay vigilent untill the final night? What night? Surprises?
As the thoughts tumble through my head, my mind struggling to decide where to start my search, I soap in my body, a quick decision not to shave, this being a seldom day off. I hop out, the shower refreshed me and as I dry myself off, I decide to go to Grand Central Station, to see if I can find the locker. Meanwhile the text of the riddle is going through my mind. ‘a circling light, cast out at night, a warning for the shore’. That part is not too hard, the answer has to be a lighthouse.. But what on earth does a lighthouse have to do with this? What did it say in the other message? ‘be on time, at the right place’. There seems to be a connection, the lighthouse at least indicating some kind of location.
I get dressed, a pair of jeans, a white t-shirt and a sweater, sportshoes and a light, sheepskin leather jacket. I grab the key from the desk in the study and look again at the code on it. It still doesn’t ring a bell, but as soon as I get there, I might get a clue. I look at the clock. 8 am.. It would be madnes to go by car, so I decide to hurl myself into the busy morning rush of the subway. I grab my keys and lock the door behind me, then jump off the small stairs and walk through the drive, up to the street. Within 20 minutes I reach the subway station, buy my ticket and move down to the right level. My mind is still going over the riddle, trying to piece it together with the message that first appeared on screen. I am worthy and should be vigilant. That part worries me.. But I have a beneficiary too, someone that organised this for me? Surprizes, the final night, collect my prize? It all dazzles me and I reach the trainstation without really having kept track of time.
As I ascend to the main level of the station, I remember that all lockers have been removed from GCS, due to terrorist threads. I look at the key closely again and notice the first 3 letters: MLS. In the main hall of the staion I look aorund and find someone to help me. I walk up and ask about the lockers, the woman answering me willingly, naming the location of the Manhattan Luggage Storage. 355 w 36th Street, near Penn Station & port Authority. I smile, another part of the puzzle solved. I walk outside and follow the directions of the woman and quickly find my way to the building. I step inside and find the front desk, showing the key to a cute woman, her red hair skiny as the rays of the sun reflect off the tall building across thew street.
She smiles and asks me to follow her, her hips gently swaying as the guides me through a few corridors, into a room at the back of the building. She points out the last 4 digits on the key and explains they match one of the lockers. Her soft hand slides over mine as her index finger shows the numbers, her body leaning into me a little, the comforting pressure of her chest against my arm, my face flushed with this appareant flirt. She slowly moves away, lets her fingers linger on the top of my hand, before she walks to the door.
“My name is Tess, please take your time sir, at the back are private rooms you can lock. There is also a bell that you can press, if you are ready to leave or need... assistance in anyway”
The short pause, the intensified look of her amber eyes, makes me shiver secretly, the room suddenly tense with unexpressed sexual desire. I swallow and whipe a bead of sweat off my forehead, before entering the room. Quickly I find the order in which the lockers are sorted and locate the locker matching the key. My hand trembles slightly as I put the key in the lock and turn. But no surprises, the key turns easily and a soft click is heard, the door moving slightly. Slowly I open the door and look inside, in the dark shadows all my eyes can discern is a small, rectagular shape. I slide my hand in and my fingers touch the smooth outsides of a cardboard box, the weight surprisingly heavy, in relation to the other box I found this morning.
I close the locker and turn the key, after making sure it is completely empty. Then turn and move into one of the small chambers, a planchet attached to the wall, the door locked from the inside. I open the box and a phone slides out. To my surprise it is turned on, the battery indicator at full level. As I look at the screen of the simple machine, I see the blinking icon of an unread textmessage. Curiosity wins and I unlock the buttons and open the message:
“Call Tess and give her what she wants..”
The sultry look, the lingering touch of her fingers on my hand, her breasts pressing into my arm have given me an idea of what Tess wants, though I have no clue why she would have chosen me. Maybe this all has to do with the ridles.. I smile, not a maybe, a certainty. I hesitate for a minute, then finding the small button of a bell next to the door, then decisevely press it, holding it longer as necessary, my hand freezing with the sudden rush of adrenaline. It doesn’t take long before I hear the soft clicks of the high heels of Tess, the door opening and the sweet smell of her perfume filling the lockerrom, drifting in under the door. A soft knock is heared, her soft voice calling me.
“Sir, is everything ok?”
I open the door and let her slip inside, the small chamber suddenly getting a little cramped, her body very close to me, almost pressed against me in the room. I notice the fire burning in her amber eyes, an extra button of her blouse undone, showing me more of her cleavage, her full breasts tightly spanned over by the sheer fabric. I notice she isn’t wearing a bra, her nipples too present, pushing taut against her top. Her face flushed, her breathing shallow, her skin pinkish, her excitement appareant. As she moves closer, my face starts to flush and my fingers start to fumble, insecure with the situation.
“yes Tess, everything is alright. I am doing a series of tasks and one of them, is to give you what you want...”
I start stuttering, not sure how to move on from there, but finding there is no need. I see the big smile curl her lips, her body moving in, cornering me against the planchet. Before I realise it, her fingers are pulling on my pants, unbuttoning and unzipping them, nimble hands pulling them down to my knees. Her hand slips inside my undies, cradling my member amd spheres as she pushes herself against me. Her free hand grabs mine and places it on the wall to the side of me, then moves over to the other and repeats. She looks at me, her eyes wet with desire, and places a finger against her full lips. She smiles, then slowly starts to sink to her knees, her eyes locked in with mine. She grabs my undies and pulls them down, letting my growing member out of its tight confinement.
Her slender fingers fold around the shaft, clenching down immediatly and guiding the tip to her mouth. She licks her lips before she folds them around the head, her cheeks collapsing, the intense suction on the head pulling it in through her lips, into her mouth. Her toungue forms a broad, wet bed for the shaft as she start to suckle on my member, coaxing it to a full erection. I gasp for air, brace myself against the wall as a sudden rush of pleasure claims my body. I look down, watching Tess start to move her head faster, eagerly devouring my throbbing shaft. A soft moan sudenly slips from my lips, immediatly she stops her movements, looking up to me. She shakes her head gently, my shaft deep in her mouth, before focussing on her task again.
I get the idea and I clench my teeth, concentrating on not making a noise while she expertly sucks my cock. Inside my mind I scream as I feel the head slip through her throat, her lips touching my pelvis, her slender fingers cupping my balls. She bumps her face into me, her tight throat clenching, swallowing the head, rushing me to the threshold of my orgasm. There, balancing on the edge, she squeezes at the right moment and I explode. Too late to correct myself, I let out a deep trembling moan as my semen rushes through my shaft and jets into her mouth. She increases her suction as my member twitches and trembles, drawing my semen from my spheres, not spilling a drop. As I settle down, my member slowly getting soft, she twirls her tongue a last time around the head, nudging the tip into the small cleft at the top, then lets my shaft slip from her lips. Her tongue rounds her mouth, her delicate neck showing the swallowing motion of her throat, then a big smile curls her lips. She kisses my cheek lightly before turning and unlocking the door*
“I hope I was able to help you solve your problems mister Weaver, and thank you for being so generous..”
Dazed I watch her disappear, her nimble hands helping me zip up before she turns and clicks away on her high heels, her step almost hiding her excitement. I take a deep breath and look into the lockerroom when suddenly the phone buzzes again. I pick it up from the planchet and open the text-message.
“Go home and wait for tomorrow’s paper”
The instructions are clear and I leave the small chamber, walk through the lockerroom and as I pass the desk in the lobby, I get a wink from Tess,
her tongue sliping out, licking her lips from left to right. With the phone securely in the inner pocket of my jacket, I start to walk back to Grand Central station and find my train home.
***
“Has the add been placed”
His long fingers slowly stroke his beard, the white hairs sprouting from his chin, soft and shiny, well groomed and neatly cut around his lips. His voice dark with authority, resonating through the room, understood clearly by the girl standing in front of his desk. She looks at him directly, her arms neatly folded behind her back, her fingers entangled, her breathing slow and regular. Her grey suit tailor made, tightly wrapping her figure in a sexy, but distinguished manner.. She nods and smiles.
“Yes sir, the add will be be in the paper tomorrow and a copy will be delivered to his door. I double checked”
“The riddle has been spell-checked by the editor and you? Letter for letter?”
“Yes sir, confirmed and reconfirmed. He almost got upset with the way I pushed him”
He nods, turns his chair away from the young woman and looks out the window. Dark clouds have begun to form on the horizon, darkening the evening twillight. His hand at his chin, the fingers repeating their automated movements, the silent hint grasped by the girl as she silently moves to the large, double doors that allow entrance and exit to the study.
“Mothered without conception, a miracle indeed
A heavenly burden, blessed in her core”
Wriggeled from below the earth
dangling on a hook, twisting in his wait
long and slender without sight, quickly turned into ....”
***
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mmmm - I'm presuming this bit is the where? Or is it the when or who?
Mothered without conception, a miracle indeed
A heavenly burden, blessed in her core
Ok, Is this the Virgin Mary, carrying baby Jesus ?
Wiggled from below the earth
Dangling on a hook, twisting in his wait
Long and slender, without sight, quickly turned into .... ( bait? )
Sounds like a fisherman's worm?
mmmm Mary and a worm ... . Tight you are still driving me nuts lol
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mmmmm ok.. This is the Where ...
so .. we got lighthouse on an atol
The Virgin Mary
Worms, fisherman's bait
Does this ring a bell to anyone location wise?
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A lighthouse on the Virgin Islands? I don't think so, but perhaps Tight gives a hint...
Or are you talking about Jesus and his words "I want you are fishers of men"?
Sorry, Tight... we need some help
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All ingredients to find the 'Where" are there.. the answers from both riddles need to be combined.. a lighthouse and an island, ... and ... makes? try and enter the words in google and see where it takes you.....
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HEHE Is that a tantalising clue on your pic Tight ? .... the lighthouse :) ..... You tease you ..
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Maybe it is, maybe it isn't... Solve the riddle and you will know if this is the lighthouse the story refers to...
uhm, do I have to start looking over my shoulder ms Brandy? getting to feel a little paranoia... *grins*
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I did think of the Staue of Liberty.............................
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it is indeed a lighthouse, somewhere on an island. The second riddle tells which island and the name of the lighthouse...
one hint: It's neither on the American continent, nor the European continent...
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Hiya's
The Lighthouse at Alexandria on the Island of Pharos.
The Lighthouse of Alexandria, also known as the Pharos of Alexandria (in Ancient Greek, ὁ Φάρος Ἀλεξανδρινóς), was a tower built between 280 and 247 BC on the island of Pharos at Alexandria, Egypt. Its purpose was to guide sailors into the harbor at night.
With a height variously estimated at somewhere between 393 and 450 ft (120 and 140 m), it was for many centuries among the tallest man-made structures on Earth. It was one of the Seven Wonders of the Ancient World.
Thank you Wikipedia.
Thanks for letting me share,
Pafe
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ok, I googled some variations of the words and got a hit with " Mary" and " bait" and guess what ... a lighthouse came up ... yippy yi yay ..
St Mary's Lighthouse, Bait Island, Cullercoats, North end of Whitley Bay. UK.
Its even got a causeway :)
Tight , paranoia .. .... do I make you nervous sweetie ?? Hehe
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That was definitely hard for non-uk residents!
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Blue, Hey I'm not sure if ts right, its been driving me crazy since Tight posted. And i let you into a secret - I never heard of it before. Pictures look great though.
Hope you continue to join us on figuring the puzzles out , I like throwing ideas out to crack the riddles - I'm too thick to crack them on my own Hehe ...
Pafe , Lover, same to you ... dont leave me floundering :) Please ....
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ms Brandy,
the answer is correct. The right location is st Mary's Lighthouse, on Bait Island, Whitley bay..
(http://www.webbaviation.co.uk/gallery/d/34174-2/cb12866.jpg)
I will start on episode 3 soon.. Good luck!
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@ Brandy: I won't leave you alone :-* I also love to solve puzzles, but I didn't have a new idea - congrats, you made it!!!
Tight, North end of Whitley Bay. UK.
- does it really not belong to the European continent?
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Lover,
maybe I should have said: the european mainland? Though in my eyes, and in the eyes of the brits I think, the UK is not part of the continent, though part of europe...
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Well, UK it's not part of the continent fisically, but it's an european nation, no matter what! so, at last, your hint wasn't so right....
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At least I gave a hint... It doesn't matter how the answer is gotten, use all the resources you have.. Google, call friends, try bribery or offering sexual favors.. *grins* Just kidding...
I know the people that visit this forum are smart.. so I am trying to make hard riddles... A first time for me so I hope every one is liking it.. I might be enticed to do another one... Anyway, part 3 will follow shortly.. This time a different riddle at the end... :)
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One by one the screens in the cold concrete room go dark, the shut down sequence initiated, the fans of the computers below the glass desk going quiet. She stretches her slender arms at the ceiling, her fingers entwined and a soft moan of relief leaves her soft, full lips. Her legs unfold and she leans her body forward to get out of the chair. She hesitates as she sees the small usb stick on the glass top of her desk, knowing she isn’t allowed to take anything from the building with her other than what she came with. She stretches her arm, the tip of her finger caressing the smooth, plastic casing, turning it on its pivet point, before curling her fingers around it and slipping it under her hand. She turns her head away from the camera that is mounted in the corner and aimed at her chair, knowing the stick couldn’t be seen from the angle.
She checks her screens one more time, then moves to the steel sliding door in the back, slipping into the hallway and onto the stairs behind it. Her black, suede leather boots make a soft clicking sound as she ascends the stairs, opening an old, oak door at the top and stepping into the scullery. The tiled walls glimmering in the soft rays of the sinking sun, coloured a light shade of orange, setting her blonde hair on fire as she passes through, into the kitchen. The victorian house blessed with a huge kitchen, the enamel sink still from when the house was built, 130 years ago. She quickly walks through the dark kitchen to the backdoor and swipes a reader with a keycard. The door buzzes and she pushes against it, then steps outside.
She walks over to her Jeep, clenching the usb stick in her fingers that she slipped into her coat jacket just before leaving her work area. Keeping her head cool, she does as she normally does. Puts her coat on the backseat of the car, her purse on the seat to her right. As she turns the ignition, Racoon is blasted through the speakers, “I love you more” resonating of her windshields. She smiles immediatly before starting the engine and drives off the property. After 20 minutes of traffic, she arrives at her house, quickly walks inside, locking the door behind her. She hangs her coat in the hall, takes the usb stick from the pocket and walks into her pantry, and lumps down on her pillow-littered sofa. Her laptop on the coffee table flickers, then starts zooming as she opens the lid. She slips in the usb and opens the file she saved earlier.
Before pressing play as her media player opens, she walks into her bedroom and takes off her boots, the little socks she hid inside them, her black dress and strapless bra. Her panties she left off this morning and naked she moves to her wardrobe. She takes out a silk night dress and slips into it, the smooth fabric sliding over her skin, caressing her delicately. With a blush on her face, her core tingling with the excitement she has hidden all day, she walks to the cupboard behind her sofa and pours herself a glass of red wine, before nestling herself on her couch.
She pulls her legs up, folds them under her body and clicks on play. Immediatly the screen is filled with the study of the target, the handsome man who’s computer she hacked and who is being filmed while he unravels the riddles he received. She slips her hand over her thigh, letting her fingers rest against the lips of her sex, her thumb slowly moving over her pelvis. She watches as he enters the code into the screen, smiling as she is surprised with his resourcefulness and, maybe, his luck. She sees his green eyes open wide as the scene of the masturbating girl starts. At first his face is close to the screen, allowing her to take in the details of his eyes, his lips, her thoughts starting to drift, then his face disappears from the screen, only to show him take out his member and start to masturbate.
She whimpers, having memorised the exact time of the scene in the clip, after watching it at least 5 times at work. His robe slips down his hairy, muscular legs and she watches him stroke his member, licks her lips as she sees the first droplets of precum appear. His pleasure appareant, the movements of his hand controlled, his determination shown, fuelling her own excitement. Her finger slips under the hood that hides her clit and starts to nudge her button, drawing soft, almost hidden moans from her lips. Her eyes peeled to the screen, the sounds of the woman grunting on screen mixing in with his uncontrolled moans making her juices start to flow.
She looks at the timer, knowing there are exactly 35 seconds left before he explodes, and pushes two fingers inside her sex. Coated with her juices, she slides them over her clit, opening her lips and exposing her hardened button. She pinches it repetitevly, her moans getting louder, her eyes fixated on the head that appears each time his hand moves down. As he strokes faster, she increases the speed of her fingers, matching his rythm. As he grunts through his teeth, holding back his full passion, she gives into her own and erupts on her couch. Her hips bucking upwards, her stomach tightening, her inner walls grabbing at her fingers as she watches the spurts of semen jetting from his shaft. Moans streaming from her lips as she grinds against her own hand, the insides of her thighs covered with her juices. She gasps for air, her eyes still clinging to the screen, watching small streams of semen drizzle down his stomach.
She giggles, shaking her head, feeling foolish, girlish to be taken by the sight of the man masturbating. She has worked with the company for 7 years now and this was a regular play, she has seen more men masturbate as they were confronted with the live feed. But this man is different, there is something about him. His posture, his voice.. She smiles again, listening to him talking to himself, fuelling her unexplained attraction to him. She shrugs her shoulders, pushing her romantic thoughts away and cleans herself up. She turns off her laptop and moves to her bedroom, slipping into her bed, drifting off to dreams she shouldn’t dream
***
It’s 5:30 am and without the alarm going off, I am wide awake. I open my eyes and look at the high ceiling of the bedroom, the world outside still dark, the last star disappearing at the cope of heaven. I push the sheets off me and slide out of bed, my robe dropped at the foot end of the bed, quickly put on. I run down the stairs and move quickly through the hall, opening the door outside. Nothing.. no newspaper. I check my watch, 5:35.. Isn’t the paper usually here? But in the distance I hear the soft squeeks of peddels moving, the rattle of a bike coming closer, the soft plop of newspapers landing on driveways. I see the young woman cycle up the drive and walk towards her, extending my arm and wishing her a good morning. Her cheeks flush as her eyes slide over my body, my robe short, half way to my thighs, tied losely around my waist, exposing my chest and a large portion of my lower abdomen. I smile and wink, take the paper and turn back to the house. Only when I start to close the door, I hear the bike move again, having felt her burning eyes on my back as I walked towards it.
I quickly go into the kitchen and turn on the coffee machine, placing the newspaper on the kitchen table. I force myself to take a cigarette first and wait for the machine to warm up. I change the pad and light my smoke when the light stops flickering. I press and the kitchen starts to smell of coffee, nudging at the remnants of my sleep. I wait for the cup to fill, add two spoons of sugar and stir slowy as I move to the kitchen table. I sit down, take a sip of coffee and feel the last shrouds of sleep disappear. I pull on the cigarette, inhale deep and open the newspaper, skipping through to the pages of the personal adds. My eyes fly over the mush of letters until they find what I am looking for.
“Mothered without conception, a miracle indeed
A heavenly burden, blessed in her core”
Wriggeled from below the earth
dangling on a hook, twisting in his wait
long and slender without sight, quickly turned into ....”
I read carefully, the first part of the rhyme immediatly triggering a response.
“This has to be Mary. Mothered without conception, As far as history tells, there has been only one woman. 3 clues now.. A lighthouse, Mary and an island or atol. The last clue must be decisive.. At least, let’s hope so...
My voice slipped from my attention and I catch myself talking to myself. I giggle, a habit I picked up as a boy and never got rid off. Even in my sleep I talk to myself, which has caused embarrasing moments with a lover that often spent the night with me. I focus my attention back on the riddle. It seems almost unlikely as I look at the second part of the hint. It must be a worm, used as bait. But what is the right answer? Either worm or bait... Hmm.. I lean over and turn my pc on, open my browser after tapping a dent in the desk with impatiency.
I enter the 4 keywords I wrote down, into a search engine. ‘Lighthouse, Mary, Island, Worm’
4 hits seem important enough to look at, so I click the first. ‘Mary Island Light Station’. Though I am uncertain of what this big price will be, the location in Alaska seems unlikely. I go back and click the next link. ‘Gower Peninsular, Swansea Wales’. This link a dead end as well, referring to a church and a lighthouse called Mumbles. I click the third link, somehow my stomach starts to flutter as I read the subscript. ‘Whitley bay, st Mary’s Lighthouse’. This must be it. Eagerly I wait for the page to load, my eyes moving quickly over the text until they spot the word ‘bait’. Bait island... St Mary’s Lighthouse on Bait Island, Whitley Bay!! My heart skips a beat and I jump from my chair, clench my hand into a fist and yell out my joy.
For a moment I bask in the glory of solving the riddle, only to conclude that I have nowhere to take my answer, except to the lighthouse itself. Going over the clues so far, I find the one line I was looking for: “Be on time, at the right place”. I am convinced I found the place, but the time.. There has been no clue about that yet. Or did I miss something? I go over the riddles and the messages again and again, finding no clue or hint towards a date or time. Frustrated I fall back into my chair, then jolt forward as I remember the phone. Damned, where did I put it? Ah, upstairs.. I run up the stairs, my robe flying open in my haste, bursting through the door of my bedroom and walking straight to the bedside table. The phone is flashing and as I slide it open, a text appears.
“Text the solution”
Quickly I press reply and let my fingers dance over the keys, checking the spelling before I press send. With my heart beating in my throat, I sink back to the bed, my eyes fixated on the screen, waiting for a reply. After a few minutes I become restless, feeling foolish for just sitting there, staring at a blank screen. I decide to take a shower and put the phone back on the side table. Just as I turn and walk to the bathroom that is connected to my bedroom, the phone starts buzzing. I stop in my step, turn and dash back to the bed, eagerly grabbing the phone. I slide it open and a message appears, including an attachment, a picture.
“Correct. Solve the puzzle, guess the time. Text the answer. You have 24 hours. Time starts in 10 seconds”
Quickly I open the attachment and a picture appears
(http://img688.imageshack.us/img688/4238/sleepingsunstopped.jpg)
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ok... mmm .. first thoughts ...
Sleeping sun , tired sun, time to got to bed sun , setting sun , Tight posted on 2 April 2012 and I have 24 hrs.
Uk ( St Mary's Lighthouse ) - sunset times for 3 April = 7.38pm.
Am I even on the right track lol...
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My first thoughts... tired sun (stops shining = dark?), stop shining, stop talking... does it mean something the sun doesn't shine all around?
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Hiya's...
Sunrise... St. Mary's Lighthouse.
Up top where the light is.
The light stops at daylight.
The sun "opens his eyes"
Thanks for letting me share,
Pafe
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mmmmm ok ... so slightly different track .... Joint effort .....I was brainstorming with Lover ...
Could it be the sun is briefly shutting her eyes and stops shining awhile, like in an eclipse so we checked on eclipses for 2012
The first Solar eclipse is on 20 May 2012 , ( unfortunately no eclipses are seen by the UK in 2012 - but thats just being picky lol ) the sunset time for the 20 May 2012 is 8.53pm
LMAO - now Lover is being driven nuts too :)
Tight, are we even close??? :D
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The answer has been given, twice. But I can't count it as an answer given...
The assigment is to find the time... Does time have to be expressed in numbers, or does a certain period of the day reflect 'time' as well?
The path for an eclipse is not the right road to go down....
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Should it be so simple? You don't just talk about "dusk" or "twilight"?
From dusk til dawn... ;)
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Lover, Brandy..
you are close and the right time has been mentioned twice before.. The reason I didn't call it as correct, is that a date was added.. The dates of posting do not concur with the dates or timeline in the story.. So keep the answer general.. No specific hour:minutes, or date.. The riddle for the date will come too. Though it is already hidden in this one... Date and time are in this riddle, but only the time is asked..
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Sunset
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correct
episode 3 will be posted after the weekend...
well done :)
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Smacking my head - lmao - of course!!!
Congratulations Lover.
Tight - I cant wait lol
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At least it was our common work Brandy... and congrats to 100 posts :)
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WOW, How did that happen lol TY Lover :) And a "full" member of Forum now too yayy :)
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Congrats Brandy...
The next episode has been delayed due to unforseen circumstances. I hope to get started soon.. So don't give up on me yet.. :)
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I gaze at the picture for minutes, not grasping the riddle for a long time. Over and over I write down what I see:
Sun with closed eyes
‘Stop’
Color: Orange
I look back at the picture, and in the left corner I see some scribbles, appareantly not a part of the original picture. I try to zoom in on the phone, only to find the picture blurred, the signs blurring beyond recognition. I look at the phone and find a small latch, a socket for a usb-plug hidden behind it. In thoughts I walk back down the stairs again.
‘ Stop’ Does that reflect on the light of the lighthouse? If that light would stop, it would mean the sun is shining, so daybreak..’
I walk into the study and switch on my laptop without noticing my actions
‘But the sun has its eyes shut.. So ‘Stop’ might mean when the sun stops shining. In 24 hours.. But.. That would make it impossible to get there in time... Let me see.. It is 5 hours later there.. That means 11 am.. I have 24 hours.. But, if I go there, it would mean either less as 24 hours, or more... Not 24 hours exactly.. So I have to solve the riddle and it isn’t sunset tomorrow..’
The screen of my laptop blinks and I click on the browser, entering [sunset bait island}, which only leads to links for tourist destination in the states and Canada. I widen the search and look for sunset and –rise times UK. After clicking for a while, I find a sight that shows the times but as I look at the numbers, an eerie feeling creeps up on me.
‘It can’t be a specific time... It has to be more general. Without a date, a time is useless... But the date isn’t given yet. Or is it hidden in the riddle? No.. that can’t be, can it? They would have asked for it... Oh darn..’
With a deep sigh I push the laptop away, my mind working at full speed, but unable to solve the riddle. I open one of the drawers of the desk, fumble through a web of cables and find the one with the right connectors. I open the little latch of the phone, plug one end of the cable in, then trace the cable and insert the larger plug into my laptop. The comforting bleep of the machine detecting a outside source sounds, and a little menu pops up. Quickly I look through the directories of the phone, finding the folder that contains the picture, and upload it to my laptop.
I open the image-viewer and select the picture, zooming in as far as I can, trying to make sense of the little scribbles in the left bottom corner. But there is nothing.. They seem to be just scribbles, left overs from when the picture was put together. I look at the file format and sigh.. .jpg That means that the layers that the picture was made from, are merged and impossible to seperate. At least, with the programs I have. Not that it matters, the picture is meant to deliver one message only, and the layers were merged for that purpose..
‘Does the sun keep it’s eyes shut? Or are they shutting because of tiredness, the time to sink below the horizon? And what is the meaning of the word stop? Stopping sun? That’s the same isn’t it?’
Something gets stuck in my mind as the thought passes. The stopping sun.. There is a word for it... But my memory clogged, the little forks in the roads leading me away from the solution. Despaired I lean back into the chair, folding my hands behind my head, looking at the ceiling, dark oak beams lining and supporting the white ceiling. The first rays of the sun fall through the windows and hit the books behind me on the shelves, the birds softly whistling in the trees outside. With a deep sigh I push myself up from the chair and walk through the house to the stairs, deciding to go for a run, to clear my mind.
***
Almost without a noise the steel door slides open as she approaches. Her clearance granted at the backdoor of the mansion, leading her through the kitchen and without obstruction to the stairs to the cellars. The sensors and infra red camera atop the door to her workspace, her ‘dungeon’ as she calls it lovingly’, flickering, taking in her frame, body heat and heart rate, granting her immediate access. The clcks of her high heels echoing through the concrete room as she slowly approaches the old sofa set up in front f the glass desk with the monitors and the single, brushed steel keyboard.
Her hand slides over the dameged fabric of the old chair, as if she was caressing her lover, the sofa the only thing that moves with her when she switches jobs, though it has been gathering dust and losing resiliance in the springs in this basement for the past 5 years. Her arm stretches and touches a smal fingerprint reader, a green light flashing and the comforting humming sound of her system coming to live. Her purse left at the foot of the sofa, her slender legs folding over eachother as she sits her slender body down.
Her hand automatically moves to the right, finding the stainless steel mug, lifting it and setting it down immediatly again, empty.. She sighs and pushes herself off the sofa, moving to the corner and turning on the coffee machine, opening the top and searching in a container for a pad. Mocca, a dark blend, creamy and strong. Her sugar bowl checked, half-full, enough for the remainder of the morning. The flashing light of the machine stops and she presses the button, the coffee starting to drip then flow into her mug.
Before the machine stops dripping, she pulls the mug away, adds two teaspoons of sugar and moves back to her sofa, bringing the mug to her nose as she leans back. She closes her eyes as she draws in the aroma deeply, her mind getting charged and freed from the last clouds of sleep. She licks her full lips, pouts and folds them around the rim of her mug, sipping the creamy layer off the coffee, savouring the bitterness before she stirs. With a smile she puts the mug on the desktop and stirs, as she enters her password into the menu on the central screen.
As soon as she hits enter, the screens start to spew out information. Her eyes glide over the screens and get stuck at the one that shows the hidden camera in the study of the target. The room is empty, the chair abandonned, even the clues that were sent so far had been taken out of sight, stored in a drawer somewhere. She opens the database and searches for the stored video images, finding a back-up of the past two hours. As the videoplayer loads, her hand grabs the spoon in the mug, stirs vigorously before her fingers fold around the handle and brings the mug to her lips. The mug tilted, the hot coffee touching her lips, flowing into her mouth, then a curse, coffee spilled and the mug slammed back onto the desk. Too hot..
She curses, keeping her voice low, and looks around for a shammy or a cloth. She finds a packet of tissues and quickly cleans up the mess. Her eyes focus on the screen again as she brings the mug back to her lips, this time blowing on the hot, sweet liquid before taking a small sip. As the caffeine rushes through her veins, she skips through the video images until she sees the first movements in the room. The target appears, opening and starting his laptop, attaching the phone and almost pushing his face against the screen. A soft smile curls her lips, her pride molding her face as she remembers putting the image together.
She notices the frustration in the face of the target, his green-grey eyes squinting as he studies the picture, then his hands pushing the laptop away, most of his body disappearing out of sight as he leans back. The robe he wears slides open, a hint of his manhood catching her eye as the video speeds by. With a blush on her face she halts, rewinds and looks at the few frames again in slow motion, before letting the video end, confirming the idle state of the room shown by the hidden camera.
With a sigh she clicks and opens her email, going through the messages quickly, until she spots the mail from Tess, the liaison at the luggage storage. Her report vivid as always, her words colorful as she describes volume, viscosity and taste of the targets semen, the length and thickness of his member and especially the way he orgasmed in her mouth. She has yet to be let down by a target, her missions are always succesful. Maybe it is her red hair that entices men to follow her lead and let her do whatever she pleases.
But she is dilligent in her tasks and below her mail is a report from the lab, the result of the intensive medical and chemical examination of the target’s semen. The results look promising and the report of Tess shows a greedyness of the target that some how sends a shiver down her spine. She starts to read the medical report with a blush on her face
(http://img207.imageshack.us/img207/8143/medrepmystery.jpg)
Smiling she closes the report, convniced he target is a healthy man, in the prime of his strength. She selects the list of task and ticks off the medical report and the meeting with Tess, the whole plan is working perfectly. Suddenly the steel door slides open, startling her, her attention immediatly focussed on the screen.
“Did he pass the medical”
The long fingers of his right hand slowly stroke the long white hair of his goatee as he looks at the slender blonde, folded up on the ragged sofa in front of the computer screens. From the side he notices her blush and sees her quickly close a few documents. He makes a mental note of her behaviour and decides to look back the video of the cellar when he returns to his office.
“Yes sir, he passed with flying colors. I will send a message to his beneficiary that the target is all clear.”
“Very well, how about The Choice? Did you double check?”
Her hands start trembling slighty as the words resonate in her head. Somehow the coming event makes her nerveous, anxious, envious even. The target will make his choice, his partner for the final night. A tight squeeze of her abdomen, the sting of envie runs through her body as she focusses on the screen and answer with a softer voice as before.
“Yes sir, all girls have been selected, informed and will be there at the agreed time. They are all in the mansion as we speak”
“Good, I will leave you to your work”
The steel door slides open and closes, the room suddenly feeling warmer as she looks over her shoulder to convince er she is alone. Slowly she turns her seat, knowing the angle of the camera can’t capture her face, and opens the picture of the target she saved. Her arm stretches out and her finger follows the outline of his face, moves over his lips before reluctantly her hand is pulled away.
***
The run in the park nearby has doen me good. My body is tired, sweatting but my mind is cear and my focus is back. The short night, the endless thoughts about the puzzle and the meaning of all this mystery had clogged the natural flow of my thoughts. Exhausting my body usually clears my mind and this time it has worked as well. Panting, leaning against the doorpost, I open the front door with my key and let it swing open, a soft breeze washing over my face and cooling me down before I step inside. I walk into the kitchen, open the fridge and take out a bottle of juice, putting it to my lips and drinking eagerly. A drizzle of juice runs down my chin, spilled as I turn my head towards the hall. A soft, short buzzing sound reaches my ear and draws my attention.
With the bottle still in my hand, I walk into the hall, following the soft buzz that is heard every few seconds. Suddenly the lighting of the small screen of the mystery phone is caught in my eye and quickly I rush towards it. Picking it up, I see a new message has arrived. I open it and sigh disappointed. A notification 12 hours have passed. And the answer still eludes me. Confronted with the riddle, I feel my mind emerged in thoughts again, trying to tear the hint apart and find the answer. Deep in thoughts I walk up the stairs, go into the bathroom and turn on the shower. I strip and get in, the luke warm water washing the sheen of sweat off my skin. Quickly I wash myself, my body and hair and after a quick look in the mirror, I decide not to shave. I get out of the shower, wrap a towel around my hips and enter my bedroom, the sun casting its last rays, the wall at the back of the room colored orange. I open the windows and sit in the sill, letting the evening breeze wash over my body. I admire the sunset and sudenly a smile starts to curl my lips.
“How could I have been this blind? The stopping sun, no specific time without a date. When does the sun stop shining? At Sunset! Idiot!”
The towel slips off my hips as I dash through the bedroom, down the stairs and grab the phone. I open the initial message and press ‘answer’, entering the answer to the riddle:
“Sunset”
With my heart pounding in my chest, my eyes glued to the screen of the phone, I walk back upstairs, my naked body shivering with excitement. Before I reach the top of the stairs, the phone buzzez and I almost drop it. With trembling fingers I open the message:
“Correct, be at the King’s Theatre, 1025 Flatbush Avenue in Brooklyn, New York City, 10 am tomorrow”
I stare at the screen, knowing the location, the theatre even. As I studied architecture for a while, this abandonned theatre was visited during a tour, disclosing some hidden gems of early 20th century architecture. With a glorious feeling I drop the phone on the bed and slowly start dressing myself, then walking downstairs to prepare for the evening, lost in thoughts.
***
As soon as her system switches from camera’s, she looks up to the screen and watches the target move up the stairs. Dressed in shorts, a sweatshirt and with headphones on, he walks up the stairs, his face looking disappointed. She leans in, gazing at the screen, a tingle felt in her stomach the target moves into the bathroom. Her hand stretches to her mouse, selecting the hidden cam in the bathroom, something the survey-team installed on her specific wish. Her skin starts to color, a pinkish sheen shininh through, disclosing her growing excitement.
Her mouth opens and her tongue slides over her lips as she watched him undress, her fingers moving automated, tracing intricate patters on the glass desk, her mind picturing his hairy chest underneath the tips of her fingers. Her breath quickens as she watches his hands slide over his body, quick and firm, washing the sweat off his muscular body. Slowly a wet spot starts to form in her panties as soft words flow from her lips.
[color=”beige] “Go on mr Weaver, you are forgetting a spot..[/color]
Suddenly she giggles, closes the screen and rises from her seat, her cheeks red with embarrassement and hidden excitement. She walks towards the steel door, casts a last look on her screens before she silently moves towards the restrooms below the stairs. She steps into the women’s room and locks the door behind her, hiking her tight, black dress up her thighs and pushing her hand into her panties. She whimpers as her fingers touch her sensitive lips, the tip of her finger pushing agaiinst her wet sex, collecting her dew, coating her finger before she pushes it up, underneath the hood that covers her clit. A soft moan is emitted from her throat, deep and trembling as she touches her swollen nub, her excitement surprising her, fuelled by the images of the target and the remainder of her arousal after playing with herself the night before.
Knowing her own body well, her climax is close, her fingers pinch and her body is rushed towards the threshold of her climax. The walls containing her need are crumbling as she closes her eyes and pictures the target in front of her, pushing her against the wall and taking her without mercy, claiming her body as she willing opens herself for him. She gasps for air, pinching her clit again and then a long sretched moan accompanies the warm gush of extacy running through her body. She pushes her knees together, clenches her thighs as her honey flows from her sex and coats her digits.
For a few moments she clings to the warmth that fills her veins, her eyes closed shut, then slowly she brings herself back to the present. She opens her eyes, slides her hand from between her thighs and quickly cleans herself after sucking her own juices from her fingers. She steps in front of the mirror and splashes some water in her face, her cheeks bright red, hot to the touch. With a naughty smile around her lips, she winks at herself, pulls her dress down and looks at herself to check for flaws. Satisfied with her appearance, she unlocks the door and steps out, walking back to her work station, a slight spring in her step making her hair bounce on her shoulder
***
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The evening seems to crawl by, every few minutes I look at the clock, pushing the hands forward with my thoughts. My mind keeps tumbling aorund in my head, trying to make sense of all that’s been happening. Who’s my benificiary? What is the big prize? How on earth am I going to Bait Island to this bloody lighthouse? A shiver runs down my spine as the suspicion of someone playing a prank of me, passes through my mind. But left quickly, the plan too elaborate for that. There must be more to it. What’s with this name that keeps ringing in my head? I have heard it before, in a darker context. Something hidden, but also a sheen of wealth, luxury and exclusiveness is connected tot his whole riddle.
This prize must be something special. So far a lot of money has been involved in arranging all of this. The package delivery, hacking into my pc, the girl at the luggage deposit.. I grin for a moment as I let the scene with the fiery redhead linger in my mind for a few moments. My hand automatedly moves tot he desk, gripping a glass of single malt, briging the cool crystal to my lips. I sip slowly, let the nutty, caramel flavors fill my mouth, before swallowing. The taste filling my nose and pallette, the gentle burn in my stomach warming me through and through. I yawn, empty the glass and push myself off, slowly moving upstairs to the bedroom.
For a moment I stare out the window before undressing and getting into bed. I push the thoughts about the riddles far away and start wondering about the prize I am promised. If I solve the puzzle.. And without intent, my mind starts its little circle again. After an hour of pondering and thinking, finally my eyes close and I slip into a shallow, restless sleep, awakening hald a few times during the night, dark brown eyes haunting me, appearing in every woman’s face I see.
Bathing in sweat I am woken up by a ruthless alarm, my eyes sticking together, pushed open as I rub my face with my hands. Thoughtlessly I reach over and hit the offf-button, the red digits blinking: 07:00. I sity up and collect my thoughts, pulling myself from the dream I was in, the brown eyes burned into my memory. I shrug my shoulders and climb out of bed, slip into a robe and walk downstairs. Out of curiosity, I open the front door and look outside. Besides some singing birds, nothing disturbs the peace this early, no unknown packages left on the threshold.
I go into the kitchen, turn on the machine and the tv, clicking through the channels as the machine warms up. Suddenly a name is mentioned and my attention turns to the tv. Passing through channels, I ended up with an english one, the BBC. The news is reporting on an old lighthouse being shut down the whole month of june, an inspection showed it was dangerously weakened and needed considerable repairs. My eyes go wide as I see the picture of st Mary’s Lighthouse appear on screen, while the ankerwoman reports the lighthouse will be taken out of service until the end of June.
I shake my head in disblief. ‘This just can’t be coincidence. It just can’t be... But, this also gives me a clue.. The lighthouse will be closed until the end of june. That means the date of the great night will be around then... But what are they doing inside the lighthouse? It’s the end of April, that means it will be closed for at least 8 weeks.’ I turn to the coffeemaker, put in a pad and press the button, waiting for the cup to fill. I add sugar and walk towards my study as I stir the hot liquid. Mocca, with two spoons of sugar. I pout my lips and place them against the cup, then curse and bang the cup on the desk, spilling coffee over the shiny surface. Too hot..
***
She puts her hand in front of her mouth as she hides her half loud giggle, seeing him burn his mouth through the hidden cam in his study. She blushes as she zooms in on his lips, her view blocked as he whipes them with the back of his hand. Quickly she hides the screen as she hears the steel door slide open, adjusting her short, tight black dress. Her employer slowly walks in, his slender, long fingers caressing his goatee in his characteristic manner.
“Is everything set Ella?”
“Yes sir, he is awake, the girls have been woken up and are having breakafast at this moment. They will go up in 30 minutes and get dressed for the Choice”
“Good, the lighthouse has been closed and the technical crew is arriving there tomorrow. I need you to relay the confirmation of their arrival as soon as you receive it. You know when to leave fo the theatre?”
“Yes sir, I will leave her exacly at 9:30. I need only 5 minutes to set up, so there is plenty of time to correct anthing that might go wrong unforseen”
“For everyone’s sake, it better go smoothly. We have a perfect record to hold up”
Without waiting for a reply, he turns and walks out of the room, the steel door closing with a soft click. She takes a deep breath as the warmth returns to the room and she can focus on her screens again. She opens the window of the cam in the study and sighs disappointed. The room is empty. Quickly she runs through the different cams in the house, but she can’t fiund him anywhere. At last she selects the cam of the study again and to her relief he has returned.
She looks at the clock, 7:30 am. He should get ready soon or else he won’t make it. She catches herself gazing at the screen and calls herself to order. She opens the schedule for today and checks off the things she has already done. She smirks as she tiicks off “make boss at ease”. Below the entry is the next one. She picks up the phone and presses speed dial. The phone on the other end is picked almost immediatly.
“Yes ms Ella?”
“Mitchel, are the girls getting ready?”
“Yes miss Ella, they just came up after breakfast”
“Make sure they all wear the right suit”
“Ofcourse miss Ella, they are all numbered, it will go flawlessly”
“Thank you. See you in 2 hours”
Put at ease she leans back into her ragged chair and closes her phone. She ticks off the next box and looks at the next one. Her maticulous way of working has always pleased her boss and it has brought her a great sense of peace when she sits in her chair. Organised, she is in control of everything. Though there is this small nagging voice in her head, trying to convince her this time it’s different. To silence the little voice, she opens the files of the girls selected for the choice.
They are from all backgrounds, all origins, all different types and characters, but all with a single matching quality. They radiate sex when they move, talk or simply sit somewhere. Some of them have gone through the Choice before, experienced with the procedures, but not chosen. Most of them are there for the first time. She can almost taste the excitement and tention the girls must be feeling.To be chosen is a single time event and promises the girl a prize as big as that of the target.
Time passes as she works down her checklist, performing each task she wrote down for herself to perform this morning. From time to time she pushes her slender body off the couch and makes herself another mug of coffee. She blows on the hot, sweet liquid before slowly sipping, the sweet bitter taste filling the cavity of her mouth. Time passes unnoticed as she concentrates until a small light starts blinking on her phone. It’s time..
***
I start to go through my normal morning routine as the notion of the newsreport starts to sink in. I set my coffee on the kitchen table, turn a chair around and sit on it, legs spread, my chest leaning against the back. I grab the pouch of tobacco and slowly start to roll a cigarette, the only one I’ll allow myself to smoke. I put the slender cilinder in my mouth, light it and inhale the spicy smoke deep into my lungs. I take a sip of coffee and slowly smoke while I switch through the channels. The daily news is as interesting as it is a repetition and after a while I turn it off, moving back into my study. I look at the antique clock I inherited from my grandfather, 7:30 am. I start to gather a few things to bring with me to the theatre. My keys, both phones, sunglasses, wallet and a digital cam are neatly arranged on my desk.
I look at the clock again, 7:38. I push myself off the chair and move upstairs, taking a quick shower before dressing in jeans, a white t-shirt and a woolen sweater. I open the bedroom windows and let the cool air flow into the room. The weather is nice, warm enough to go out without a coat, the sky specked with clouds, but none look threatening enough to worry. I close the windows again and walk downstairs, gathering my things and walking out the frontdoor. I walk around the corner and open the door ot the garage, get in my car and drive off. My heart is pounding in my chest as I leave the street, on my way to the strange location that was texted to me.
After little over an hour through the heavy traffic of New Tork, having some luck that a road just opens as I turn onto it, I arrive at the theatre 30 minutes early. I park my car a few hundred yards away and take a good look at the theatre. The front entrance is boarded up, the facade hidden from view. Another site under construction, just like the lighthouse. Again a shiver runs down my spine, my mind tossing the possibility of a coincidence to the side. Across the street, with a look-out on the stage door, is a small coffeeshop with tables and seats at a window. Nonchalantly I get out of the car, walk in and order a cup of coffee, mocca, black with double sugar.
I walk to one of the tables at the window and sit down, slowly stirring the coffee, blowing on it before taking a sip. I have an excellent view of the front, the alley and the stage door and as I drink my coffee, I see a slender figure in a tight black dress and holding a laptop bag, cross the street, dribbling in her high heels, with zebra socks while she looks skittishly around. She slips into the alley, walking in the shadows of the building hugging the other side of the alley. She leans in as she reaches the door, as if she is looking through a peep hole, then pulls the stage door open. She slips inside and the door falls shut behind her.
I look at the clock behind me, 9:42 am. I have to wait another 15 minutes before I can cross the street. My fingers tap the smooth table top as my eyes keep looking across the street. Nothing happens after the girl slipped into the building and at 9:52 I get up from my chair, tossing the paper cup into the bin. I cross the street and walk up to the boarded front, trying to peek through the cracks between the panels. The darkness behind the panels hides everything and my tries to capture something fail miserable. The other side of the theatre is connected with the next building, the only entrance left is the stage door. With lead feet and trembling fingers, I walk into the alley, the shadows cast into the narrow passage making me shiver.
I walk up to the door, my attention drawn to some old posters, announcing shows and musicals. One sticks out, “The Choice, a production by IUD”, a black and white, faded picture of a chorus line of girls, the title and producer the only text besides the date of the show, 26th of april 1959. My eyes widen as I see the familiar abbreviation, the date stuns me. 1959... 53 years ago.. Trying to make sense of it all I just stand there for a few moments, gazing at the faded, torn poster. I shrug my shoulders and gather my thoughts, rememberring the reason why I am here. I grab my phone and check the time, 9:59, just a minute to go. I grab the doorknob and try to turn it. Nothing happens. I pull on the knob and still nothing happens. Again I look at my phone, my heart starting to beat faster as it indicates it’s 10 o’clock.
I try the doorknob again and again, but it is stuck in it’s place, as if it is there to give the door a true appearance. I take a step back and take a good look at the door. The intercom not functioning from the disconnected wires that stick out, a small hole in the center of the door, at the height of my chin, the paint chipped and appearantly old until the sun breaks through one of the clouds that drifts in the sky. The rays hit the door and on one of the bottom corners, the glisten of metal is detected, hardly visible. I take my keys out and tap them against the door, hearing the clang of metal on metal. Hmm, a strudy door and newer as meets the eye. I step closer to the little hole and start to lean in with a beating heart, bot sure what to expect and having seen too many thrillers.
Unable to withstand my curiosity, I press my eye against the little hole and am immediatly scanned by a green beam that pierces into my eye. I push myself away from the door to escape the blinding light and the door swings open as I restore my balance. I blink a few times until i can see depth again and look at the door. As I focus I see the door slowly start to swing towards me, frozen until the realisation seeps through. I jump forward and manage to pry my fingers into the small crack before the door closes.
I moan in pain as my fingers squashed between the heavy door and the doorpost, quickly sucking them into my mouth. I stand in the doorway, letting my eyes get used to the obscured light in the small hall behind the stage door.As I look around, I see the stairs to the dressing chambers demolished, leaving a big gap in the floor. The only way to go is to my right, through a dark, narrow corridor. With my heart pounding in my throat, I step forwards, the stage door closing with a heavy click
***
-
After her eye is scanned, the door releases and swings open with her gentle push. She steps inside and hurries through the dark corridor, moving up the stairs to the front of the theatre, where the technicians booth is, high up against the ceiling. At the top of the stairs stand a dark figure, hiding in the shadows. She sees his feet first as she ascends the stairs, his body entering more and more her view as she reaches the top of her view. A cheekish grin curls the lips of the small man, his broad shoulders and chest spanned tightly by a black turtle neck sweater.
“Glad you could make it miss Ella”
“Thank you Mitchel, good to see you. Is everything prepared?”
“Ofcourse miss Ella, everything is ready”
“The girls..?”
She looks at him askingly, though she already knows the answer. Mitchel is good at his work and his promise is kept. He must have heard the urgency in her voice as she spoke to him on the phone tomorrow, as he raises his hands and squeezes her cheek.
“Don’t worry Lass, everything will work out fine”
He turns and walks down the stairs, leaving her by herself and her worries in front of the tech’s room. With a sigh she opens the door and steps inside, turning on the ambient lighting on the floor, finding the small desk light on the control panel quickly. She opens her bag and takes out her laptop, plugging it into the system. She loads the lighting sequence and checks the sensors in the seat that was set-up for the target. All give a positive inout signal and all she can do now is wait. She looks at the slender silver watch on her wrist, 9:58. He should be at the stage door.
Nervously her fingers start to tap on the top of the control panel, her eyes checking her watch every 20 seconds, trying to stop the hands to move with the power of her mind. Suddenly she is startled with the bleep from her laptop, a green meny flashing. The eye scanner has scanned the targets eye. Her eyes flash to the monitor of the camera hidden in the intercom system. She watches as he stands frozen for a moment, then dash forward, only just preventing the door to fall shut. With a sigh of relief, she click to the next camera, watching him enter the dark corridor cautiously, as he shakes his hand, easing the appareant pain in his fingers.
She watches him slowly move forward, taking small, slow steps. Avading her eyes from the screen for a moment, she turns to the control panel and pulls a switch, turning on a spotlight in the dark hall beneath her. The spot lights a single seat in the front, just beneath the low stage. The rows of seats behind it are cloaked in darkness, as is the wooden stage in the back of the theatre. She hears the soft noise of the com system and puts on her headphones, adjusting the microphone, bringing it close to soft lips. Her eyes moving back to the camera system, following him move through the main hall behind the front facade, his way directed invisibly by Mitchel’s team, as they closed the place up, allowing only one route for the target. She interlocks her fingers as she watches him step into the theatre itself, holding at the entrance, the shutting door hitting him in his back
***
Slowly I turn the corner and start to walk through the dark corridor. My eyes getting used to the miss of light, start to seperate shapes and forms, then the end of the corridor. In front is a staircase, which has been shut off, danger signs warning for the stairs to be unsteady. The only way is to turn left and after a few steps I enter the main hall. I turn my head to the right and recognise the form of the entrance of the building, Then turn my head the other way and find the doors to the actual theatre open. I walk up to the doors and carefully stick my head inside.
There is a single spotlight on, lighting a single seat in the row of seats at the front of the small stage. The rest of the theatre is lcoaked in darkness. Slowly I start to walk down the central isle, closing in on the stage and turn left tohe illuminated seat. There is a small note pinned to the back of the seat, on the outside the familiar abbreviation hand written in black ink: IUD, mr Weaver. With trembling fingers I reach out my hand and take the note off the seat, sticking then pin in the fabric of another seat. I fold the note open and read out loud, unaware of being watched minitiously.
“Welcome to our show, mr Weaver. IUD presents:
The Choice
You have been approved by the IUD, you will receive the final prize if you manage to solve the clues before the night is there. For now, look at what is presented. There is one rule: No contact, in whatever way. You will not speak nor move. And be sure to know you are being watched. Now, please take a seat, you are our honored Guest”
I quickly turn my head from side to side after reading the message, eyes piercing into the dark but the blinding light of the spot prevents me seeing anything. The theatre is silent, just the beating of my heart and the soft rustle of the paper in my hand can be heard. I shrug my shoulders, trying to lose some of the tention, turn and push the seat down before I sit, facing the stage, the curtains closed.
***
As soon as she sees him sit down, her eyes flash to the screen of her laptop, whwre information starts to stream inn.s hidden in the chair inform her of his heart rate, his body temperature, depth and speed of his breathing, as well as the level of tention he experiences at the moment. The graphs are through the roof, she looks at the tv monitors and sees him fold his fingers in his lap, his ringfingers and little fingers touching, his eyes closed for a moment, then a relaxed expression on his face. She turns back at the screen and sees his heart rate plummit, almost landing on a normal level, his excitement levels dropping as well as his breathing becomes deep and slow.
Amazed with his abilty to calm himself, she waits until his readings are within the set parameters, given by the docters that examined his semen. As all 3 lights indicate green, she presses a button and a single spot is turned on, aimed straight down on the stage, as the spot above the target’s seat is turned off. She leans back and watches as the scene unfolds, keeping the lights in the corner of her eyes.
***
Suddenly the light above me and a light in front of me is turned on. Having just shedded some of the tention in my shoulders, controlling my breath, I feel my heart jump up in my chest again. The tention has made my shirt damp, cold sweat collecting in the fabric. Still the theatre is silent, the attention drawn to that small lighted circle on stage. Suddenly I hear the sound of bare feet move closer. From the dark behind the beam of light, a female figure steps into the illuminated circle, dressed in a skin tight suit, the texture unknown to me. It glistens and flashes, yet fades in the light, as if watching lighting through sunglasses.
Her legs long, her body slender and well formed, her breasts proudly crowned by hardened nipples. Her eyes are lustful, half-closed, her hips writhing to some unheard rhythm. Then suddenly she opens her eyes, looks straight at me and smiles. Her white teeth shining brightly against the background of her caramel skin, her narrow, glistening lips. A shiver runs down my spine as my body reacts, captured in that weave of desire she emits with her smile. I jiggle in my seat, then remember the warning in the note.
I focus again, only to see her disappear into the darkness of the stage behind the light. Not sure what to expect, I keep seated and wait, my anxiousness growing with every heartbeat. But the wait is short and while the seconds seem hours in this lonely seat, it only takes a few before the next girl steps into the light. Dressed exactly the same, the look on her face as lustful as the girl before. Again, this girl opens her eyes suddenly and looks at me, her body slowly slipping into a sensual pose, the look on her face cold. The tresses of her blonde hair crown her angelic face, the straight line mouth creating a strangely attractive opposite in her face.
Captured by the characteristic of her face, my arousal is fuelled and it is necessary to reposition again. When I look up, the girl has disappeared, making room for the next one. Her skin colour dark brown, the black suit drawing fine lines around her curves, her hair short, her breasts small, her body shaped like a ballerina. She as well has that look of pleasure on her face, just before she opens her eyes and focusses on me. She as well disapears into the dark after teasing me with her presence. Girl after girl appears in the spotlight, all with the same gaze of excitement over their face, all dressed in the same, strangely textured suit.
Having lost count after a few girls, overwhelmed by the feast of sexuality and sensuality, the spotlight is shut off with a loud click, leaving me startled in the dark. Frozen in my seat, unsure of what is expected of me, I sit motionless in the seat, waiting for the next development. The chandliers above my head and the small lon the wall start glowing, filling the room with a soft, dimmed light, appareantly the sign the show is over. I look around and notice the ragged down interior of the theater, the path to this seat carefully cleared, the seat the only one without a speck of dust.
I get up from the seat and make my way to the exit, the deafening silence rsonating in my ears. I walk through the corridor where the lights on the wall have also been lit and I take a good look around. The staircase with warning signs is clean, the signs to new to be in accordance of their warning. Taking in the details of what must be a big operation, I walk back to the stage door. It starts to sink in that this is not done by a single man, a big organisation must be behind it, being able to put all of this together. That means money.. ‘Someone is spendding a bundle on me, but why is still not clear to me’
***
Her eyes look at the monitor, his face just visible in the light of the spot, his expression showing his growing excitement. For a man pushed into a pool with no proof of him being able to swim, he has shown remarkable skills to deal with everything that is thrown at him. How he calmed himself in the room downstairs made a huge impression and she monitors the readings of the sensors with a close eye. When girl nr 7 presents herself, she sees the readings peak and she looks downstairs to see which girl it is. Though she memorised the order of presentation, Mitchel might have had to change it at the last notice.
As she looks down, she immediatly recognises the girl, Chloe. When she saw the pictures of the girls for the first time, she was startled with the likeness of Chloe with herself. The same brown eyes with a focussed look, the same shaped figure though the girl is a few years younger and somewhat tighter around the waist. The same full breasts, even the nipples shaped the same. She takes in the readings from her screen again, noticing the difference in results with those of the other girls. The choice has been made. The 3 girls remaining are unlikely to trigger him to react stronger, but she keeps dilligently watching and noting down the results as the last girls pass through the spot light.
When the last girl disappears, she turns off the spotlight and leans back for a few moments, going through her schedule in her head, before she shifts the lever for the wall and ceiling lights, dimming them to the instructions the tech team gave her. She frowns, her mind worried as she touches the mouthpiece of her headphones.
“Mitchel, how well are our tracks hidden? He might come up the stairs”
Suddenly she feels a cold chill run up her spine, realising her volnurable postion, locked in a room without an escape, alone. Though there was no sign of violence in his files, they might have pushed a button. She leans in and watches the monitors closely, seeing him get up and leave the theatre. She notices his moving head, seeing him notice things that are just out of order. But he keeps on moving and leaves the building quicker as she anticipated. But there is something about this man, that the way he acts doesn’t surprise her. He seems eager to follow this adventure through. She leans back in her chair as she tries to surpress the attraction she feels welling up in her lower stomach, reaches to the desk, her fingers folding around the mug that isn’t there.
The rush of caffeine has disappeared and her mouth is getting dry, her brains getting the signal that another rush is needed. She yawns and starts to push herself off the chair in the control room. Moving through the door and down the stairs, she smells his scent in the corridor, following not too far behind him. Although her boss has goven her strict instructions, from experience she knows the target always goes straight home after the Choice. Though this target has shown some surprising skills, the chance that he stays around, is slim. Slowly she walks through the corridor, opens the stage door and steps into the alley..
***
I blink my eyes as I step through the stage door into the alley, the sun has moved and now shines down on the door. The alley is warm and quickly I move to the other side, cloaking myself in the narrow strip of shade. The whole experience has unsettled me, seeing the girls, how they seemed to be mesmerised byt something. Somewhere near the end there weas this one girl that triggered something inside me. Her brown eyes, the shape of her body, the way her hair was hugging her neck and shoulders, did something to me., My heart started beating faster and my breath quickened. My mind wrestles with the reason of this show.
Performed in a theatre, similar to the poster next to the stage door, this whole set up seems to be aimed at finding some kind of match. The obvious thing to think would be for sex, but would someone go through all this trouble for a good fuck? That seems unlikely. I move towards the exit of the alley, leaving the stage door behind me. I slowly cross the street and walk towards my car, a sudden rumble in my stomach informing me of my stomach being empty. Instead of unlocking and entering my car, I turn and walk back to the coffee shop, having seen some cinnamon rolls. I step inside and find a small queue, a few people waiting for coffee on the go. The place has come alive while I was in the theatre.
Patiently I wait for my turn, order a large mocca, with extra sugar and a cinnamon roll. I wait for my coffee to be made, nibbling on the roll, letting the stro0ng cinnamon flavor fill my mouth, I hear the door open. I receive my coffee and turn, bumping into a young woman. As my lips fold to form an excuse, they freeze. As I look into her face, finding her eyes to adress her, I immediatly drown as my focus is sucked into the intricate patterns of her irises. Translucent strings jump from my heart, penetrate her skin and me to her as our eyes interlock. I stare at her, unable to form words, sinking deeper and deeper into the depths of her soul.
***
The need for coffee has settled in her body and determines her direction, taking her directly to the coffeeshop she passed on her way to the theatre. She looks around carefully as she leaves the alley, noticing nothing out of the ordinary. In her blue-and-white zebra socks, her legs move quickly, taking her to the other side of the street and the coffeeshop. She pushes the door open, waits for a couple to leave the shop, then steps in. Her foot gets caught behind the threshold and she trips, falls forward and lands against the strong body of a man. As she looks up to apologize, her heart jumps in her chest as she recognises the target.
She freezes, unable to speak with the shock of being eye to eye with the target, the man that has sparked her interest, that she feels attracted to. She clenches her laptop against her body and looks away, making room for the man in front of her to pass, her lips forming words that can hardly be heard. With her stomach squeezing, a flock of butterflies taking off, she senses the man standing still, idle, looking styraight into her eyes. She can’t deny the urge to meet his gaze and looks up, feeling lost as soon as her eyes focus on his green irises. Time seems to stand still as she feels him penetrate her skin, attach himself to her without her mind or body reacting, the familiar walls left crumbles, her heart exposed and lost as soonj as her eyes lock inm with his.
The little voice in the back of her head slowly starts to become louder as the seconds pass by unnoticed, making her aware of the situation she is in, sounding all the alarmbells that she installed earlier. With a jolt of her body she pulls herself back to the present and steps away, making room for the target to pass by her, focussing her attention on the shopkeeper behind the counter. She orders her coffee, while she takes a deep breath, taking in his scent as she feels him slip by her, words of apologee resonating in her head.
***
I feel her force herself to look away, breaking the intense connection that was suddenly there. I start to move, pushed her away by her focussed attention on the shopkeeper. I move towards the door, pull on it and look over my shoulder a last time. Blue-and-white zebra socks.. The girl that crossed the street and entered the theatre. She’s one of them!! I halt for a moment in the opening of the door, then suddenly feel the mystery phone buzz in my pocket. Forcing myself to walk outside, I slip my hand into my pocket and find the phone. In the sharp light of the sun, the text is hardly readable:
‘The Choice has been made. Go home, look in the paper tomorrow’
I click away the message and put the phone back inmy pocket, looking carefully around me as I walk back to my car. Seeing several cars nearby, I try to look into the windows, trying to find the ones that hav been watching me, feeling someone’s eyes on me, from somewhere. But no matter how hard I try, I find noone, nothing obvious that allows me to find out the secrets of the organisation behind this mystery. Just this girl.. How looks are imprinted in my mind, even though we met for just a few seconds. How we connected is something I have never experienced before. Definitly not one of the girls on stage, but the attraction I feel is so much stronger. Lost in thoughts, I enter my car, start and drive off, onmy way home.
***
-
‘Slowly she slides her dress up, exposing her lower body, the black laced thong stretched tightly over her hips and sex. She smiles as she cradles me with her legs, her hand sliding down and pushing her panties out of the way. Her fingers wet as soon as she touches her heated core. My member throbbing, fully erected, pushed between the lips of her sex as she pushes her panties out of the way and grinds her sex against my shaft. Her breasts exposed, her dress caught underneath them, my arms stretched out, fingers folded around her soft mounds. Her nipples pressing against my palms as I massage her mounds slowly. She tilts her hips, lifts herself up and guides my member to her entrance with her hand.
Suddenly she is dressed in the black outfit, the scene changing to the theatre. Her sex wet and tight, or so it seems as she pushes herself down on me, letting my member slip inside. The folds of the suit forming perfectly around my shaft as I enter her, the feel like her inner walls, silky, wet and warm, yet not her flesh. She closes her eyes as I look at her, concentrates and suddenly bolts of lightning scatter all over the suit, the sensations around my shaft like nothing else felt before. With a silent cry I orgasm, jet my semen into her sex, her smile wide, her body not moving an inch’
Bathing in sweat I wake up, my underpants wet on the inside, sticking to my skin as I lift them up. My shaft is trembling, the head wet, strings of semen dangling between my shaft and stomach. My breath is fast as her eyes dance before my in my mind. The dream too vivid, too real not to respond to it. Although my body is heavy with satisfaction, I push myself out of the bed, leave the bedroom and walk down the stairs. As if in a dream, I open the door, find the newspaper and pick it up. I walk back inside, into the kitchen and turn on the coffee machine, placing the paper on the kitchen table. Quickly I open the pages of the newspaper, finding the personal adds-section, my eyes flashing from the top to the bottom. On the second page, in the middle is a message, a picture. My eyes glued to it, I start to unravel it with my brain..
(http://img806.imageshack.us/img806/9117/mystery3.jpg) (http://img688.imageshack.us/img688/4238/sleepingsunstopped.jpg)
***
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Honey moon sunset
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what is the last thing needed for the final night?
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Ok, recap :-
What = Lighthouse on an Island.
Where = St Mary's Lighthouse, Bait Island, Whitley Bay. UK
When = Sunset
Who = ?
Who is D Weaver? Who is the guy who strokes his beard ?
Is the Honey, the moon and the sunset a clue to the who? mmm and your last clue :- "What is needed for the final night?"
mmm Honeymoon, sunset, final night .... I'm thinking maybe a wedding, a coupling of the perfect couple... mmm ... still no idea as to the who and why .. arggghh l... going nuts again ... lol
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ms Brandy, one W is not complete. some info is missing. That info is asked for.. Remember? What is the use for the time of sunset, if you don't know the date...
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arrr , so the honey , the moon and the sunset is the clue to the date. mmmm. mmmm. Help lol.
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Who said it is a sunset...?
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mmm so the honey, a moon and a sun with the eyes shut = the date ?
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Don't forget about the third clue in the picture of the sun. The word is there for a reason.. A big reason...
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ok, I ambushed Tight but all I got out of him was " Honeymoon and the moving sun stops" = date. as in day, month and year.
mmm Lover, anybody ? Can you help with this too ?
I need inspiration as my minds full of new poses ideas lol
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I hope you get this riddle soon... The next episode is ready and I am thrilled about it.. :) so to help you along with a hint:
on what day does the sun seem stop in the sky...
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Is that day an eclipse ?
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Sorry Brandy, wasn't able to be in forum because of my job.
Hm, Tight... a neverending day? A moment you wanna keep forever?
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MMM The longest day is the Summer Solstice. In the UK its on or around the 21 June 2012.
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It is the summer solstice, and the answer is almost correct.. Find the exact date and I will post the next episode...
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In the Northern Hemisphere, Summer Solstice ( The first day of summer - longest day, shortest night of the year ) begins on 20 June 2012. :)
Yay at last .... lol
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With a loud moan she suddenly wakes up, her slender frame uncovered, the sheets kicked down by her feet as she writhed and wriggled her body in her sleep. Her eyes flare open, her cheeks blushed, her hands drifting over her body as if they were bound to strings, moved by a puppeteer. Her core hot, burning with want, urging for a touch. Her hand slides down between her legs, touches her sex, finding her lips wet, the sheets beneath her drenched. Blushing she closes her eyes and recalls the last images of her dream, the images that woke her. His eyes, his face, distorted as he releases his passion into her, pinning her against the wall of the small corridor behind her front door.
She feels his hot breath on her face,m his bucking hips between her clenching thighs, his shaft pushing deep into her, touching her core in swift nudges. Her fingers find her hardened nub between her wet lips as she dives into the reminants of her dream. It only takes seconds before the walls the imprisoned her desire, crumble by the power of the waves of her orgasm as they rip through her body. Her whole body tenses up, her thighs close and catch her fingers, a long stretched, silent moan leaving her lips. Her eyes are closed as her breath slows down to a slow pace, the drousiness of her sleep mixing in with the warm satisfaction of her body. She dozes off, his eyes dancing before her in her mind, locked in in what seems an eternity.
The annoying loud buzz of her alarm, destroys her dream and wakes her cruedly, her ears covered as she pulls her pillow over her head. Slowly the shroud of sleep is lifted from her mind and the reality of the day touches her with a soft brush. Her hand reaches out from under the sheets and hits the Zzz-button, allowing her a needed 5 more minutes of snoozing. But then she forces herzself to turn off the alarm permantly and drag herself out of bed. Her eyes still half closed, she makes her way to the bathroom, looking into the mirror with half a glance. As she glimpeses herself, she stops in her track, steps in front of the mirror and takes a good look at her face.
The wrinkles made by the pillow, are not helping her look. The night in bed had been restless, the evening long before she managed to get to bed. Her little world shook up by running into the target. ‘My damn need for caffeine. Why did I go there and not follow the instructions?’ The dark bags below her eyes don’t go away when she rubs her eyes, not does her pale skin get any color. With a deep sigh she decides to get into the shower and prepare to work. She turns open the tap and warm water starts to run from the large shower head, mounted on the ceiling. She steps in, not used to wearing anything in bed or the short trip to her bathroom, and slowly starts to wash herself. As her hands slide over her pelvis and inner thighs, a shiver runs down her spine, her sensitive sex still warm and touchy from the dream and her pleasuring.
As the warm water washes away the last reminants of sleep and her mind starts to scream for coffee, she considers her options. ‘If I don’t tell and he finds out, I am out of a job. If I do tell, I will be sure to be pulled of this job, and might be able to keep my own.’. She turns on the cold water and punishes her skin for 30 seconds before she turns off the water and steps out, reaching for a towel. Her skin is tingling and starting to turn pinkish as her body reacts to the cold shower. Warmth starts to radiate from within and fills her body as she dries herself and slips into a robe. Her hair tied up in a towel on her head, she elaves the bathroom and walks towards her kitchen, switching on the coffee machine.
As the machine heats up, she walks into her pantry and turns on the tv, zapping through channels without a real interest. The rumble of the machine stops and she returns, taking a pad from the large aluminium container on the kitchen top and places in the machine. She hits the button and the full aroma of the coffee starts to fill her smaal kitchen. Her mind starts to clear up, her thoughts becoming quicker and more organised. As soon as the metal mug is filled, she adds sugar and stirs as she walks back to the pantry. She slips onto the couch and touches her laptop, letting her eyes slide quickly over the emails in her inbox. One is marked urgent, sent by her boss.
“As soon as you come in, walk up to my office”
Her breath catches in her throat, her cheeks turn bright red as she feels caught, the message not longer or shorter or different tone as his usual messages, but her feelings mixed in with going against construction, fuel her guilty feeling. Slowly she reaches her arms out and touches the keys on her laptop, answering the message. Then she falls back into her couch, forgetting the mug of warm coffee in front of her.
***
As I slide of the stool in the kitchen, I feel my underpants pull on my skin, my semen dried into a sticky sunstance. I shake my head and walk back upstairs for a shower, tearing my eyes away from the message. As I pass through the hallway, I look at the mystery phone and check for messages. The small gears in my head are spiining, fuelled by the double dose of caffeine I just took. The picture doesn’t indicate much of what the clues must reveal and in my head i go through the options. Deep in thought I walk up the stairs and turn on the shower, dumping my shirt and sticky briefs in a pile on the floor. A soft smile curls my lips, it’s been a long time since I woke up with wet sheets.
I let the warm water run over my face and body, slowly washing myself, my hair my body. ‘So what could this clue be about. I know the exact location, the time but not yet the date. There was a presentation of girls, called the Choice.. But, did I have to choose? Was a choice made? Is the answer for the choice in the clue? How am I supposed to answer and when? Who is behind this whole deal?’ After a quick wash and a few minutes of pondering under the thot water, I get out and dry myself off, putting on a pair of jeans and a sweater, walking downstairs to the kitchen. Half way down the stairs, I see the mystery phone flashing and the last steps are skipped in a big jump down. I grab the phone and look at the screen, opening the message, indicated by the flashing icon.
‘nr 7 is chosen... the riddle is the date. Your time is not unlimited’
‘nr 7...’ Digging in my mind, I let the girls pass by one by one, unsure that my first thought was the right one. But it is, the girl with the brown eyes, the slender frame, full chest. Her nipples hard and her body inviting, sensual, seductive. Her smile was sweet and warm, her eyes looked longing. As I let my eyes slide over her again in memory, I feel the excitement of that moment, feeling more drawn to her as anyone else. But as i try to focus on her eyes, wanting to remember the details, only one pair of eyes are there. Almost fitting the face, but standing out in their beauty and depth, but not of girls nr 7.
I sit down and reach for my coffee cup, finding it empty, turning to the machine to see it has shut off automatically. I push myself off the stool to make another cup of coffee as I let my eyes slide over the picture again. Quickly I turn around and walk to my study, turn on the laptop and eagerly tap my fingers on the desk, waiting for it to start up. Quickly I open the picture I received and zoom into it again. On my way to the theater, on a street a few blocks away, I had seen a figure, worked into a steel gate. Somehow the angle of the sun lighted out the specific form. I zoom in closer, centre the little scribbles underneath the sleeping sun and trace the outline of the little scribble to the left. It has the vague shape of a rose, exactly the same outline as the figure embedded in the steel gate.
I close my eyes and try to recall the street and the building I passed when I went to the theatre. But each time I turn and drive into the street, the memory becomes blurred, except that one moment, when passing the gate with the form standing out by the light of the sun. Over and over I go over that short stretch in my mind, remembering entering and leaving the street, seeing the rose but anything in between is a blur. ‘I guess there’s only one thing to do’. I close the laptop and look aorund for my keys. Then I remember I left them in the kitchen and quickly get up, grab them from the counter next to the coffee machine and head for the frontdoor. Just before leaving the kitchen, I grab the newspaper and take it with me. I walk outside, unlock the car and get in, driving off faster as I intended, but mycuriosity has set my body into overdrive.
***
She walks up to the house after parking her car, dressed in a black business suit, a high closed blouse underneath the slim cut jacket, her long legs dressed in simple stockings, a garterbelt underneat her skirt, out of sight, a continuation from the lustfullness with which she woke. The tight knot in her stomach, that formed as soon as she read the message from her boss, is tightening even more as soon as she pushes down the handle of the kitchendoor. The swipe of her badge along the reader an automated action, out of her conscious mind already, after being here for so long. But it might be her last day and with heavy feet, she steps inside. Instead of her normal routine, passing through the kitchen and descending the stairs, she turns right and moves through the corridor to the central hall, and the impressive staircase leading to the first floor.
The soft clicks on the wooden floor, echo thrugh the silent house as she makes her way reluctantly to the office of her boss. Her hands cold, though her palms are slightly damp with cold sweat. As she arrives at the door leading to the office, she takes a deep breath and knocks, not too loud, not too quiet. Within seconds she is called in and with a beating heart she pushes the door open. For a change her boss is facing his desk, instead of staring out the window with his back towards the door. That oddity makes her even more reulactant to enter, but she pushes herself forward.
“Good morning ms Ella..”
“Good morning sir, your wanted to see me?”
“Indeed ms Ella, I am worried about you..”
His grey-green eyes pierce into hers with an intense look and she feels exposed, as if he can look directly into her mind and read her thoughts. Her cheeks start to blush immediatly and her fingers start to wriggle behind her back.
“Worried sir?”
“Yes, appareantly your need for coffee has endangered the whole operation. You met the target, didn’t you”
She feels the ground sink away from under her feet, the whole monologue she had prepared is lost as she feels exposed to his look. She looks down to the floor, then back into his eyes and back to the floor, searching for words that can justify her actions the day before. Deciding to tell everything, she looks back at him with an open look.
“Yes sir, i did see the target yesterday. I broke protocol by going out for coffee, before it was confirmed the target had left the area. I made a mistake.”
“A big mistake ms Ella, something that could jeopardize the whole operation. You know exactly what would happen if we were exposed”
“I do sir.. And there is no excuse for my actions. I can only hope there is no damage, or it will be contained”
“To make sure it stays contained, I am pulling you off your current duries and will send you to the UK, where you will oversee the installation of the booth in the lighthouse. You will leave tomorrow. The rest of the day, you will spend transferring your tasks to the new tech. He’s waiting at your workstation”
“But sir...”
Her face turns in color, from bright red of embarrassement, to pale white with disappointment. She has invested months of work into this project and now she has to transfer it to a new tech. And, she might never see the target again. But as soon as the words leave her lips, lightning flashes in the eyes of her boss.
“Be happy you still have your job. You are good at your work ms Ella, and right now that is the only reason you still have a job. Now get to work. When you are done, go home and get packing. Your flight leaves at 8 am tomorrow morning”
Without waiting for her answer, he turns his chair and leans back, looking out of the window, leaving her standing in the room. Taking his hint, she leaves the office with quick steps, feeling her anger boil up to the surface, fleeing before she erupts. As she closes the door of the office behind her in a reasonable fashion, she clenches her fists and feels tears well up in her eyes. Her lips silently forming the curses she screams in her head as she slowly walks down the stairs towards her work station. As in a daze she shakes the hand of the new tech, that arrogantly is slumming in her chair when she enters. In a few hours she transfers her work and explains the order of actions to be taken, the schedules and project plans.
Knowing her work is maticulous and logically put together, she has no doubts the work will be done according to plan. As the new tech excuses himself for a moment, she calls security and asks them to put her chair in the back of the car. Knowing the two men well, she hands them the keys of her car and watches as they pick her chair up. They are just about to walk through the door as the new tech comes back, his wide open eyes expressing clear surprise.
“Where are they taking the chair?”
“It’s mine and it goes where I go”
“So, where am I going to sit?”
“That’s your problem..”
She turns her head as she starts heading to the door, smiles and winks, before the sliding door opens for her and she steps through it, out of the room she called her dungeon for the past 7 years. As the door closes behind her, she takes a deep breath and walks up the stairs, catching up with the guys carrying her chair at her car. The chair barely fits in her car and the back is compressed slightly as the tailgate is shut.
“Thanks boys, I’ll see you again in a months or two”
“Ms Ella, are you going to leave us?”
“I’ll be back boys..”
‘At least I hope so’. With a soft click she closes her door and starts the car, carefully moving backwards with only the limited sight of her side mirrors, her rear view blocked by the chair. Slowly she backs up to the metal gate, gets out and swipes her card over the reader, opening the gate. As it slowly starts to move to one side, she quickly glances the street before she gets in. ‘Clear, for now..’. She straps herself in her seatbelt and starts to back up the car, turning to end up turned the right direction, but just as she starts to turn the wheel, the loud sound of a horn and squealing tires of a breaking car startle her.
***
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***
The drive takes a lot longer as I anticipated. Work on one of the bridges has slowed me down, getting caught in a traffic jam and crawling forward. I look at my watch and notice I have lost an hour and a half. I shouldn’t have taken the car, but as I am still off from work, I am not too upset with the waiste of time. But finally I am back on track and nearing the street with the steel gate. I count the streets as I pass them and finally see the gasstation I had in memory and turn left. I slow down and start to look around, the impatient horns of cars behind me not distracting me. I look to my right, in memory the direction where I spotted the form and let my eyes drift over the facades of the buildgins, when suddenly a car backs up onto the street. Distracted with looking around, I see the car just in time and hit the brakes, slamming the horn in the progress, the scare directing my hand.
Before I can get out, the Jeep pulls up and quickly leaves the street, turning left and out of sight. I get out of the car and check around it for damage, though I didn’t feel the cars touch. Satisfied I get back in as suddenly the sun breaks through the clouds and hits the steel gate where the car backed out from. The glistening of a form catches my eyes and as I turn my head, my mouth curls into a satisfied smile. This is where I saw the rose in the gate, this is the place. The impatient honking becomes insufferable and quickly I drive off, turning the car at the end of the street and parking on the otherside across the building.
It’s an old mansion, the gate giving access to a small courtyard at the back of the building. The shape of the rose barely visible, embedded as it is in an intricate weave of steel rods and decorations. I take the newspaper in my hand and hold it close to my face as I try to discover the shape of the rose in the scribbles. ‘They appear to be the same, so this building has something to do with it? But this figure seems so ffamiliar, as if I have seen it before.. I just... It’s the same with that abreviation, IUD, I am certain I have seen it somewhere.. but where.. And that damned clue...’. I remain parked for a few minutes, looking at the back of the mansion, without seeing anything happening. The courtyard empty, the scarse windows at the back blinded with heavy shades. Disappointed I start the car again and drive off home, decdiding to start decyphering the pictures that are in the paper.
Instead of taking the bridge, I decide to take the long route home and turn left instead of right, passing street after street, the traffic getting lighter as it gets closer to midday. My stomach starts to grumble and reminds me that I haven’t eaten yet. I pass by a dinner with a few slots open in the parking lot and decide to drown my veins with saturated fat, promising myself to to go for a run in the park later today. I park the car and get out, walking over the gravelled parking lot to the older building. The glass window next tot he door is plastered with posters and announcements, cultural events demanding attention and a crowd. As I grab the doorhandle and pull it towards me, my eye catches a rather bland, small poster, annoucning a summer solstice pageant night. I halt before entering and read the text below the fat letters.
“When the sun stops in the sky, at the end of the longest day, the fires are lit and the honey moon shines down on us, rewarding us for our worship”
‘When the sun stops in the sky.. What the..’ I stare at the announcement for seconds, before i feel the door move in my hand. Diffused I look up and am stared in the face by a bearded man, pushing against the door as he wants to get out. I step aside to let the man pass, then turn on my heels and run back to the car. The bearded man looks at me weirdly as seconds later I pass him again, this time with the paper in my hand. I kneel in front of the glass window and put the paper against the glass, reading the text out loud as I let my eyes flash from the paper to the poster and back.
“When the sun stops in the sky, at the end of the longest day, the fires are lit and the honey moon shines down on us, rewarding us for our worship”
‘That’s the answer! 21st of June, the summer solstice!!’. My face starts to beam as the pieces of the puzzle start to fall into place and the date clearly shows in my mind. But a frown crosses the path upwards of my lips, as I realise the date might vary. And, I need the right time as well. I raise myself to my feet and walk back to the car, start and quickly head towards home, cursing myself for taking the long route, praising myself for this fortunate decision.
As soon as I come home, I dash into the study and open my laptop. The machine left on and quickly the first search pages are loading. Summer Solstice is at 23:09, GMT on the 20th of June. I lean back with a satisfied smile, folding my hands behind my back and letting my eyes drift over the ceiling for a few moments, relishing the sense of victory, having solved the riddle. As I lean back forward to get the phone and text the emssage, my eyes catch a picture that is mounted on the wall. It is a picture of me and my godfather, the brother of my mother and business partner of my father. When my father passed away, my uncle took his role as guardian very seriously and overlooked my studies and early career steps with intense attention.
He often summoned me to his house to have a whiskey and talk about the future. Offering me the first taste of the golden liquid when I was 17, he told me I was about to become a man and I should take my responsibilities in life serious. Loyalty, commitment and hard work were, in his opinion, the key to succes in life. Both in social as in intimate affairs, I would get my rewards. A speech he repeated yearly the day after my birthday. I smile as I take a close look at his face, grateful for his lessons and guidance, smiling at the dark goatee that turned white over the years. Even in this picture, though it is taken at the lodge in the mountains, he is dressed like a gentleman. The jacket is a sportive version, he is as always wearing a buttoned up shirt and a tie, a small silver symbol decorating the deep red fabric.
‘That symbol...’ I get up from my chair and almost push my nose through the glass cover as I try to focus on the small silver decoration. ‘It looks like a rose.. Like the rose in the gate and in the picture’ I take the frame from the wall and open the back, taking out the hardboard cover and then the picture. Slightly stained at the back from nicotine, I turn it around and look closely at the symbol on the tie. In the clear light in the room, the symbol is much clearer now, the glass covering it stained over the years, and I discover the delicate petals of a rose, shaped the same way as the symbol in the gate and the scribble in the picture.
Speechless and overwhelmed I fall back into my chair as suddenly a rush of memories floods my mind. I see myself hiding at the top of the stairs in his house, remembering fragments of the conversation overheard.
“Has the choice been prepared?”
A second later I find myself entering the kitchen of his house, my uncle just laying down the newspaper, his reading glasses magnifying 3 letters: IUD. The newspaper closed as soon as he notices me, diverting my attention away by putting a plate of scrambled eggs in front of me. Another memory shows me my father and my uncle sitting on the porch, discussing something with great passion, but whispered words, trying to hide the content from my younfg ears. My father a passionate man, letting a few words slip out too loud.
“The IUD múst stay in the shadows. The final prize must be a once in a lifetime experience!”
My mind jumps into overdrive, connecting pieces of the puzzle I didn’t uderstand, the picture becoming clearer and clearer. I fall back into my chair, overwhelmed with the conclusion my mind presents me. My uncle has never been clear about what he actually did for a living. Strange as I was very close to him and visited him almost every week. But him and my dad... this can’t be true can it? But if it is... Then he must be my beneficiary.. And the final prize is a once in a lifetime experience., And it has to do with the girl that was chosen for me. The location is extrordinary and something is done right now. This fits my uncle perfectly. He has an expensive taste, has access to high circles, maybe even higher as I ever dreamt possible. The implications dazzle me and I fall back into my chair. Allowing myself a few moments to take it all in, I grab the mystery phone, having decided on what to do. I enter the answer into the text screen and press send. Knowing the answer will follow shortly, I pick up my own cellphone and speed dial the number of my uncle. After a few moments it is picked up.
“Daniel my boy.. What can I do for you?”
“I’m coming over to see you tonight, I’ll bring the whiskey”
“Ok, I’ll see you tonight”
Without waiting for my reaction, my uncle has hung up the phone, leaving me in my chair, deeply emerged in thoughts. My thoughts are tumbling in my head and to gain some focus, I grab the pouch of tobacco and roll a cigarette. As I light it and suck the sharp, herby smoke into my lungs, the mystery phone starts to buzz, announcing another message. I take the phone in my hand and confidently open the message, sure of my answer. My eyes widen as I read the next riddle.
[center“In the valleys of pasta and pesto
when the churchbells ring
creamy liquid is drawn from black and white
friday, 30th may, 10:00 am”[/center][/color]
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This was great Tight, bit disappointed it ended where it did, was really getting into the story lol.
ok, first thoughts
In the valleys of pasta and pesto
when the church bells ring
creamy liquid is drawn from the black and white
Fri 30 may 10 am
Pasta is a staple food of traditional Italian cuisine probably introduced in ancient Arab and Greek times , the Italians are renowned for their delicious pasta dishes. Pesto is an Italian pasta sauce but can be used in other things like soups, spread on bread and dolloped on cooked meat and fish dishes. Pesto originated in Genoa, Italy. God I'm hungry now lol
Therefore is the first part of the answer Italy ?
I've tried to find Italian traditions and celebrations that may fit with the church bells and creamy liquid being drawn but am drawing a blank, even searched May time too, nothing . mmmm
Creamy liquid and black and white - just reminds me of Guinness - a popular Irish Stout but that doesn't seem to fit either.
Anybody else any ideas?
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ok, In the valley of pasta and pesto = Italy
When the church bells ring = Weddings or Sundays calling people to church
Creamy liquid = could this be milk
drawn from the black and white = Is this the famous Holstein black and white dairy cow.
According to Tight, who I ambushed again hehe .... I'm on the right track ... mmmm Italy, Sundays, Cows mmm the answer leads to a place.
Any ideas anyone, especially any Italian friends who may know what this means ......
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Hiya's...
I was thinking Italy, also. I am wondering if this needs to be narrowed down to an actual place.... Tuscany or someplace like that.
And something to do with a church. Wedding sounds good.
As for the black and white, I was thinking espresso coffee with foamy milk.
Hope this helps.
Thanks for letting me share,
Pafe
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Hint: the place is not in Italy...
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I hope the riddle will be solved soon. I'd like to post the next episode before the end of the weekend. Going to hospital for surgery on monday and not sure I will feel well enough to post afterwards.. So, go guys!
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So not Italy... whats the Italian translation for sundays and cows ??
Domenica e mucche..... mmmm .... just sounds like foreign coffee to me lol ... wasnt that Pafe's suggestion??
mmmm back to the drawing board... going nuts again Tight lol
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Ok, a few hints to hopefully help you out..
1. Has the target ever been outside of New York, except for the promised location at Bait Island?
2. What do you do before you go on a date, what usually takes up the stretch of time before actually leaving?
3. Is there maybe another word for cow in italian?
Good luck.. ;D
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ok, never read the riddle, but if Tight don't mind, i'll give the other translation of cow.....vacca! hope this help you, my friends!
ops, i forget.....hope the surgery will going fine and to see you full recovered soon, Tight!
Dunno how serious it will be, but there is allways a small amount of risk.....will gonna wait for your back!
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I think that those looking to solve the riddle, will fgind your translation very helpful Hentai..
And thanks for your wishes, I will be back.. :) This surgery not too invasive, but another one soon to follow afterwards. I will have just enough time to post all entries in the contest.. Fortunately
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well, Tight, best wishes for you! and we'll wait for news about you!
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Hiya's...
Vacca.... hmmmm Vacation!! I could use one!
A vacation in Italy and have some pasta with pesto and a cup of espresso. Now I"m hungry and have an urge to travel, and I'm drawing blanks.... Lover... Brandy... I need some brainstorming help..
Tight... I'll keep you on the prayer list. Let us know how it goes.
Thanks for
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Pafe, i will bring to you a cappuccino.....whit hot, nice cream......oh, i love cappuccino!
http://blog.danielevotta.it/wp-content/uploads/2011/05/Cappuccino_Loves_Italy.jpg
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ok, did a google search on Tight's clues
New York , Italian words for Sunday = Domenico, Cow = Vacca ( Thanks Hentai and Medjai ) and you dress before you go on a date.
New York / Vacca / Dressing lead me to
DOMENICO VACCA , an Italian Fashion Designer. This guy seems rich. He is selling an apartment in Museum Tower, New York. And he has a Men's clothing store at 781, 5th Ave, New York. NY 10022
Is the mens clothing store the answer?
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Hey Tight, Love and luck for your op, I hope all goes well. Sending you some Flowers and grapes for afters ok :) xxx
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Well done Brandy,
actually there are two stores of Domenica Vacca. One on Madison avenue, one on 5th..
At least I can post the next episode.. Have fun reading.
And everyone: Thanks for your well wishes. I will take them with me. Will let you know how things went.. :)
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‘What the... Now what?!’ Stunned I look at the text on the phone, the sense of voctory quickly fading away, replaced by a sense of desperation. ‘How many more riddles do I need to solve for this? What is this..?’. I drop the phone on th desk, utter a sigh and push the chair back as I get onto my feet. My stomach protests and grumbles with the sudden, angry move and I walk into the kitchen, open the fridge and take out some left over salad from the night before. Without taking the trouble of getting a plate, I grab a fork and eat directly from the bowl. Supporting the bowl with my hand, I walk out into the backgarden, enjoying the sun.
The empty bowl on a table, a satisfied stomach and a mind that is slowly clearing in the soft breeze and the warm sun. I walk along the borders as I try to gather my thoughts and prepare for the meeting with my uncle tonight. All the pieces of the puzzle fall perfectly in place. I am certain that my uncle is heading this organisation, that he is my beneficiary and that he is testing me for something. Unsure of what the final night promises, it has to do with the girl, the location and sex.. The way she was dressed, that longing, urging look in her eyes, the soft tremors of her fingers just before she opened her eyes, she was radiating sex and horniness. As if she was being pelasured at the spot.
And the suit she was wearing, what was that made of? I have never seen a fabric like that. It seemed to be a second skin as I could see all the delicate lines and folds of the girls in front of me, as if she was completely nude. Those flickers that seemed like lighting licking over the surface of the suit, the image of the nerve system portrayed in highschool shoots through my mind. This suit has something to do with it as well. Why else would all girls be wearing the same? They all had a similar expression on their face, one of awakened desire, the dawn of sexual need, but not displaying obvious arousal.
The questions start overwhelming the answers again and I walk back inside, back to the study and sit myself down with pen and paper, noting down my question and suspicions.
‘1. My dad and uncle were/are running the organisation IUD
2. My uncle runs the organisation alone and is my beneficiary
3. The final night has to do with sex. Probably sex with the girl in the lighthouse.
4. Why was I chosen to go through this whole proces?
5. What is the location of the enxt riddle?
6. What is this suit about? What is it made off? Was it the reason all girls seemed dreaming a hot dream?’
Writing my questions and answers down, helps me keep a helicopterview on the situation and soon I start to see connections, memories pasted into the gaps that are still left, deduction and induction fill the left over gaps. Slowly a smile starts to curl around my mouth as I start to see the purpose of this mystery. I push myself off my chair, walk into the hallway and grab my keys. I leave the house, get into the car and drive off to the small liquor store, where my uncle bought the first bottle of whiskey we shared, a bottle of Lagavulin 16yo 'White Horse'.
***
With a big suitcase on wheels, she steps into the lobby of Edinburgh Airport, after a flight of 7 hours from Newark, NY. It’s 8 hours, according to current time and she doesn’t feel tired. Most of the flight she slept, and after coffee in the plain, her brain is wide awake again, concentrating on the baggageslip in her hand. She turns her head from side to side, trying to find the collecting point for odd-sized luggage. She finds the counter in a corner and smiles as she sees her bulky, plastic-wrapped chair on a trolley. Her request is handled quick and professionally and she’s told to pick up her car, the chair waiting for her at a loading dock.
She moves towards the row of desk of the car rentals, finds the one she reserved her own car at and takes the keys of the jeep she reserved. After a few minutes of driving around, she follows the arrows that lead her to the customs loading dock and two officials help her stuff the chair in the back of the jeep. The chair is big enough to make her suitcase move to the front seat and stuffed like sardine in a can, she starts her trip to Whitley bay.
According to the onboard routeplanner, it’s about 180 miles, a drive of 2,5 hours and before she reaches the highway, she stops at a gasstation to store up on supplies. With 2 cups of strong, hot coffee, a package of cigarettes and a bag of licorice, she sets off and mixes in with the traffic on the highway, listening to her favorite songs through the ipod connection in the car. Except for an emergency pitstop of a few minutes, the coffee having a bigger effect on her blatter as she expected, she arrives at Whitley Bay after almost 3 hours. She checks into the Park Lodge Hotel and drops her luggage off in her room.
She looks at the clock in the small lobby of the hotel, it’s around noon and she decides to go to the island. She walks back to her car behind the hotel and gets in to leave for the lighthouse. It is only a couple of miles and she would walk normally, but with the chair in the back of the car, she wants to have it in her workspace as soon as possible. Only then she will feel comfortable getting to work. As she nears the shore, she finds the causeway covered by water, making it impossible for her to access the island. ‘I should have checked”. She gets out of her Jeep and walks towards the edge of the water, turning her head from left to right, then discovering a sign. As she reads the notification, she finds out the causeway will be uncovered in an hour and a half. She feels her stomach protest against the emptiness and decides to have lunch first. She finds a pub a few hundred yards away, using her phone to locate it, where she has a small pasta bolognese, the pub ran by italians. A bottle of water and an espresso after her lunch and she leaves the pub again.
As she arrives back at her car, the causeay is glistening in the sun, the water retreated to a few inches below the concrete road. The drive is short and soon she parks her car near one of the exterior buildings of the light house, based at the foot of the tower. As she gets out, she looks up and finds the outside of the lighthouse covered in black plastic, keeping nosey villagers away from what is happening inside. The wrapping will stay in place until the interior of the lighthouse is transformed to its original state, the announced rebuilding period will cover the time to transform the lighthouse back to its original splendor. Though major changes will be made inside, the only thing that will really be new, is the coat of paint the outside will receive. All transformations inside will be reversed.
She starts to walk to the nearest door she can find, only to find it locked. As she looks around to find another entrance, a bearded man walks around the corner, stops then smiles as he raises his hand.
“ms Ella! How wonderful of you to join us. With your help, I am sure the 3d booth will be finished ahead of schedule..”
He grins as his hand strokes his curly blonde beard.
“Enough time to ‘test’ the booth out properly. You wouldn’t want to propose yourself as a crash test dummie, would you ms Ella?”
She smiles as she steps towards the man, shaking his large hand, her fingers almost squashed to a pulp with his enthousiastic grip. Klaus, the large German, has been with the company for years and has an expertise in electronics and structural engineering. He is usually selected to head the foreign operation. This being the most important operation in her career, she is glad that they chose the best man for the job. She shrugs her shoulders as an unintended picture of the tall, broad man with a girl in the booth, enters her mind.
“Klaus, the day they allow you to use the booth ahead of the date, I promise I will be your crash-test dummie. In the meantime, do you think you and those big muscles of yours, could help me get my chair from the car?”
She smiles seductively, though she knows her charm isn’t needed. She met Klaus a couple of times before, spent a couple of nights with him during an operation, stuffed in a small space behind the booth in a haystack to install and monitor the booth. There she learned that Klaus’s interest lies with women with big breasts, big butts and ‘something to hold on to’ as he usually jokes about it. They have become close colleagues and she knows she only has to ask and he will do almost anything for her.
“Ofcourse meine Puppe, I will get your chair for you. Still dragging it around the world with you, hmm?”
“Well, it had found a nice home at headquarters, but appareantly sometimes it has to see the world as well, to stop the itch for a while..”
“I can’t deny the truth in that. I’m happy to see you Ella”
Cheerfully whistling, Klaus starts to walk to the car as she opens the booth with her remote. As if he carries a baby in his arms, the giant picks up the chair in his strong arms and walks in the same, swift pace to the back of the building. With a smile on her face, she follows him while she looks around and gazes at the ocean for a while. The sound of the waves crashing on rocky base of the island, the cry outs of seagulls stir a memory inside her. A beautiful day at the beach when she was still a child, the sand between her toes as the waves washed over her feet. But as she shrugs her shoulders, the skies start to fill with grey clouds, passing over in a teasinlgy slow pace.
With a sigh she steps through the door which is patiently held open by her colleague. She smiles as she meets his inquisitive look and shakes her head gently. Stepping through the door, a small corridor appears with three doors, Klaus has gone ahead and steps into the room behind the last door. As she enters, the chair is already in front of a glass desk covered with boxes full of control panels and connectors, the floor littered with boxes containing pc´s and servers, the wall behind it covered with screens. Though the masoned walls are different from her concrete dungeon at headquarters, she does sense a feel of home. She places her hand on Klaus’s shoulder, thanking him for his help. He smiles shyly, then turns on his heels with his hand in an open gesture.
“Welcome to your station ms Ella, this will be your home practically for the next few weeks. I am sure you would like an update on how far we’ve gotten with the booth?”
“You know I like to be hands on when I am working with the booth Klaus, I want to see it, and in the meantime you can tell me what the staus is, how close it is to being operational”
The blonde man grins, slips his hands in his pockets and starts to walk back to the door. Ella smiles, his approach hasn’t changed. Being a hands on man, she knows he has a natural aversion from ‘geeks’ as he calls the computer techs from IUD and wants to keep them away from his site as much as possible. ‘You keep your hands on that keyboard and stay away from my tool. You’re a tech, and a woman, which makes it worse’ was the first thing he said to her when they met for the first time. It took her three days to convince him of her skill with powertools and the soldering iron, but he really accepted her when she fixed an electrical problem that he had missed.
“I know, but I had to test you, you know me. This way Ella”
He crosses the corridor and opens the door on the other end, which leads directly to the inside of the lighthouse. As she looks up, the spiral staircase makes her a little dizzy, the building scarsely lit with a few bulbs. She follows Klaus up the stairs, their feet making the iron steps resonate, loud clanging echoes bouncing off the walls.
“This noise is horrible, you are going to fix this, aren’t you? And where will the staging area be? Downstairs?”
Without giving an answer, he looks over his shoulder and shows off his white teeth as his lips curl up in a cheekish grin. They reach the top of the stairs and he leads her through a narrow door, cautioning her for cables. As she steps in, she sees the chaotic order of the transformation. The first walls of the booth are up, but not yet lined with the video carpetting, the ‘tv-on a roll’ as they started calling it after implementing it for the first time. The space is cramped, but fortunately the outer buildings of the lighthouse offer enough space for the controlroom, the dressing room for Chloe and the other services needed for this particular night. It promisses to be one of the most spectacular nights they ever put together. The location extrordinary, the riddles elaborate. This time it seems different, as if a higher purpose is being served, instead of giving the target the night of his life.
“Ah, the smell of grinded metal. Your habitat, Klaus. I’ve missed being out in the field. And I am glad you are here, feels like the early days”
Carefully stepping through the room, she slides her hands over the panels, looks around and tilts her head, imagining the booth to be there. The room will be invisible behind the walls of the booth, but the videocarpetting will give the illusion they are at the top of the luighthouse and can walk and look outside whenever they want. Though she has never been inside a working booth, having monitored the actions and behaviour of the numerous targets and their partners, has convinced her the booth gives a life-like experience. She shrugs her shoulders, leaving the thought of using the booth herself, alone. She walks up to the windows next to the door to the balustrade outside and looks outside. The sea calm, a gentle surf washing waves over the rocky base of the lighthouse. Forcing herself to turn, she smiles at Klaus.
“I could stand here all day, but I think I’d better get to work. Has anything been set up in the control room? Since this area is yours, I’d better get out of your way”
“The only thing that has happened in the controlroom so far, is that we brought in the equipment. Nothing has been set up yet except the wall of screens, the booth has our priority. So, it’s your party now. If you need someone to lift the servers, just give me a call”
“Will do”
She leaves the room and carefully walks back down the narrow spiral staircase, hugging the railing tightly. She walks through the door on the other side and starts to unwrap the plastic from her chair. Bit by bit her chair is revealed and a few minutes later she falls back into the soft, comforting embrace of her chair. She pulls her legs underneath her body and picks up the manual for the control room. But within 2 pages she loses focus, gets restless, her arm stretching out in the automated reach for her coffee mug. Grabbing just air, she lifts her head and smiles, pushes herself off her chair and walks into the room near the door she entered the building through, finding a fully utilised kitchen, a big coffee machine the centrepiece on the kitchen top. ‘Buildings are made with coffee, and nothing else’
-
***
As I open the door to the small, hidden liquor store, a little bell announces my arrival. Within seconds a soft shuffling is heard and an old man, his back bent with age and hard labor, enters the store room. The store is small, maybe 10 feet across and 20 deep and every nook and cranny is filled with planchets holding bottles. The assortment is amazing and I look around a little dazed. I have been here only once, when I turned 21, my uncle brought me here and let me pick something for my birthday. I picked the same whiskey as the one my uncle offered me at 17, like a tribute, honoring his care for me. As I look around dazed, the old man arrives at his counter, resting his wrinkled hands on the top.
“Good day sir, can I help you in any way? “
“I hope so, I am looking for a specific brand and year, a single malt”
“Just tell me the name and I can tell you if I have it or not”
“I know you have had this whiskey, I have been here before. Do you still have the Lavagulin, White Horse?
The eyes of the old man start glistening as soon as he hears the name. He shuffles from behind his counter, pushes his reading glasses up his nose and moves up to me. He places his hand on my shoulder and tugs on it, bringing my face close to his, feeling his eyes glide over me, studying my features. Then he releases, turns and walks to a small ladder attached to a rail.
“You must be the nephew of mr Liska.. mr Weaver, am I correct? You bought this bottle 17 years ago. I am old, but my brain still works you know..”
“That is amazing, how... “
“Ah, that is my little secret mr Weaver..”
I watch the old man slide the ladder to one of the cabinets, lock it in place and exasperatingly slow ascend, his trembling hand reaching out, brittle fingers folding around a dusty bottle. He grabs the bottle, then, without turning reaches his arm down, dangling the bottle before my face. I reach out quickly and grab the bottle, the old man releasing a sigh of relief as he grabs hold of the ladder again. Slowly he climbs down, his face red with exertion. He takes the bottle from my hand and shuffles back to his counter, his feet dragging over the old, worn out wooden floor. He looks at me over his glasses and smiles.
“Really, I know because you are the only two people that buy this whiskey from me. A very distinct taste, one for connaisseurs”
“Indeed, this bottle is for a special occasion and it is for my uncle. Thank you sir”
The old man smiles then slowly moves his fingers over the antique cash register, pausing after punching in each number. He checks the amount in and with a loud clang, the drawer shoots out, the few bills inside almost flying out. The old man steps back in a startled motion, his glasses almost slipping off his nose, his hands moving nervously to keep the drawer inside the register. He giggles, takes the bills I’ve placed on the counter and closes the drawer again.
“Age comes with quirks mr Weaver. It does this every time and I keep forgetting. It scares me each time”
“It defnitly has its charm. Thank you sir and we will enjoy the whiskey. Until soon”
With a warm smile, I take the paper wrapped bottle and leave the store. I walk back to my car and suddenly the riddle comes back into my mind. ‘in the land of pasta and pesto’. That part is as obvious as can be. That must be Italy. But how does it relate to the other sentences at the date and time? Seems to me this riddle is supposed to reveal a location, another one. But for what? I know where I have to be, when and who is waiting there for me. I also know that it is not just about sex, but it is a test for something bigger. And if my suspicion is correct.. But I will find all of that out tonight, when I see my uncle.
´when the churchbells ring. Ok, churchbellS, plural. When do all churches ring their bells? Sundays.. Or on a national holiday, or royal wedding. But that seems to be specific. So sunday’. Driving through traffic on auto pilot, my mind is deeply emerged into the riddle, peeling layer by layer away, trying to put the sentences and their solutions together. Having lived in this neighbourhood since birth, I know every street and alley, turning without thought and soon I park the car in the driveway. I walk inside and go into the kitchen, turn on the coffee machine and roll a cigaret. Lighting it as I press the machine to fill my mug, I suck in the sharp smoke and exhale slowly. I add sugar to my coffee and walk to my study.
I take the mystery phone out of my pocket before I sit down and look at the texted riddle again. I’ve solved two parts, but have no clue yet of what their connection might be. Italy and Sunday. Italy, with the vatican seated in Rome, is a very religious country. So maybe the clue refers to something religious? But then what does it have to do with ‘a creamy liquid drawn from black and white’. I start to writer downm the association that comew to mind, and soon the paper is filled with words. Guinness, espresso, café au lait, interracial creampie, milk. Suddenly I notice I wrote the riddle down wrong, ‘a cream liquid, drawn from black and white’, my eyes flashing back to milk. Cow... That’s it... That must be it, it’s the only thing that really makes sense.
I turn on my laptop and open a search engine, typing in all three keywords I found so far. Cow, sunday and Italy. The links provided make no real sense and I am not triggered by any of the sites I click on. I look back at the words and wonder what an italian would call a sunday cow. I open a translator and enter the words, the answer given immediatly. ‘Domenica mucca’. I copy the words and paste them into a search window and press enter. The nly links provided are italian. And since I don’t speak the langauage, I feel that I am not getting anywhere. This location must either be at the lighthouse, or here in New York. I had to go to two places within New York already. So maybe the location is here, in New York. I enter the words into the engine and the first link that pops up is ‘Domenica Vacca, the finest hand-made..’. Underneath the bald blue letters, New York is captured in smaller, black bald letters. With a beating heart I open the page, navigate through the website to find two adresses in New York. Puzzled I look at the message again. But there is no distiction, nothing that indicates to either of the adresses.
Distracted I look up from my laptop as my celphone starts ringing. As I take the phone in my hand, I see my uncle’s name and the time on the screen. I should have been there already and quickly I answer.
“I am on my way uncle, I was distracted with something”
“I hope you bought a good whiskey to make up for your tardiness”
Without waiting for an answer, the connection is closed and I grin. He has always done this, though it seems rude to some, the pragmatic approach of a conversation my uncle uses, is refreshing in itself. Not usning more words as necessary. Quickly I get up and look outside, the sun is setting. The time we usually sit on the deck in his backgarden, a crystal glass in hand. I grab the bottle of whiskey from the kitchen top and hurry to my car. The drive to my uncle’s house is less than ten minutes and soon I park next to his car in the driveway. Before I can ring the doorbell, the door clicks open, unlocked from inside. I look into the camera that is mounted above the door and step inside.
I walk through the house, enter the kitchen and leave the house again through the backdoor, turning right and finding my uncle in the shadows, leaning comfortably in his chair. I walk up to him, extend my hand and give him a tight gripped hand shake, met with the same strength and intensity. I unwrap the bottle and place it carefully on the table, where two crystal glasses and an ashtray are set.
“Uncle, forgive me for being late. I hope this will soften your disappointement a little”
“Mhm, a familiar brand, a safe choice Daniel. But it is more than satisfactory. Please, sit”
A warm smile breaks through on his face and his hand slides to his face, caressing the white goatee on his chin. His fingers peel on the zinc wrap around the cork of the bottle and carefully he opens it. Pulling the two glasses closer to him, he slowly pours the golden liquid into the crystal. With a calculated move of his hand, he slides the glass in front of me, then takes his own in his hand. He raises his glass for a silent toast, the brings it to his nose, taking in the layered aroma’s of the aged whiskey. With closed eyes, he takes a small sip and lets the whiskey roll through his mouth. As he swallows, his eyes open again, a dazed look for a fraction of a second before he turns his head to me and focusses.
“You said you wanted to talk to me. So, talk”
His fingers continously running over the white hairs of his groomed goatee, his eyes now sharp and lcear, piercing into mine. Knowing my uncle and his approach to matters well, I am prepared and jump at the opportunity.
“You are testing me to see if I am able to head the IUD in the future”
Without the expression on his face changing, his body not moving, my uncle looks into my eyes and is silent for a while. I keep my eyes locked in with his, watching for the slightest betrayal, the slightest hint that will confirm my claim. But my uncle is a master and controlling his facial expressions and doesn’t show a sign of having actually heard my voice. After what seems an eternity, he folds his hands together and places them on the table. Once he closes his eyes, then fixes his focus on me again.
“Yes, I am. And you have given me the proof that I have made the right choice. You are a smart man”
A thousand questions start to race through my head as my uncle utters the words. My suspicions confirmed, the held back thoughts break through the dam that contained them, drown my mind and leave me in utter confusion. I feel the hand of my uncle on mine, pulling me back to the here and now, his deep voice demanding my full attention.
“Daniel, don’t think about it too much, yet. All will be explained later. First you have to get to the final night. After that, we will talk more. Now, drink”
He raises his hand and touches my glass with his, taking another sip and savouring the rich, layered taste of the whiskey. Submitting to the situation, knowing my uncle will not divulge anything until he thinks it is time, I raise my glass as well and let the liquid flow through my lips, taking a larger sip as I intended. I barely manage to keep the fluid inside my mouth as I cough. The worried look of my uncle is waved away and he leans back, his hand stroking his goatee in slow, calculated strokes. The rest of the evening is spent with barely a word spoken. The whiskey and the sounds of the city around us take up most of our attention, my unspoken curiosity boucning off the barrier of secrecy my uncle has built around him. As the moon climbs into the sky, I set my empty glass on the table and get up from the chair.
“It’s time for me to go home uncle. Just one thing.. The wrong choice was made, I want the girl in zebra socks”
Without waiting for an answer I turn and walk back through the house, get in my car and drive home. As soon as i drop my keys on the desk in my study, I grab the mystery phone and text a message.
“5th or Madison?”
Within seconds the phone buzzes, the little icon flashing. I open the message and smile, the answer not unexpected.
“Madison”
***
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Thanks Tight, damm - missed the other store, found it now though lol
Domenico Vacca's mens clothing store 702, Maddison Ave, New York. NY 10021. :)
Cant wait for the next episodes.... keep up the good work ... It's great :)
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as a response,
I am not sure there will be more clues in the story. It is nearing its end.. I do hope that you've enjoyed it and will follow it to the end. Any feedback is very welcomed. I have enjoyed writing this story very much, thanks for reading and stay with me until the end.. There are still a few surprises waiting.. :)
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Hiya's...
I've really enjoyed this story and the puzzles that go along with it. I look forward to reading more. Thank you very much Tight for writing it, it's very good.
We're heading up to Manhattan next week, I think a visit to Domenico Vacca's will be in order... after all, we will be shopping. ;D
Thanks for letting me share,
Pafe
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Tight. I have thoroughly enjoyed this story. It was and is enthralling and I enjoyed the puzzles and riddles. I look forward to the surprises you mentioned. Thank you for writing it and giving me and others the pleasure of your writings.
Please hurry up and post the rest :) Not that I'm impatient or anything .... hehe :D
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Though I couldn't help to solve the last part, I enjoyed it very much. It's a great distraction from all the other things and you did an excellent job!!!
You have to go on :)
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“Done”
With a sigh of relief she pushes herself off on the edge of the desk and curls her legs underneath her body in her seat. Finally the panel is finshed, the wires solded to the right connectors, power checked and functions working. It’s been 10 days since she curled up in her seat for the first time in the lighthouse, and since then she has been working non stop. The work on the 3-d booth is progressing nicely and it seems they will be finished well ahead of schedule. Her extra hands allow Klaus to focus on the building and installing team, while she works on the operations module of the booth.
As she worked her way thrugh the manuals and electrical schemes, she discovered some wear and tear to the module, damage done in the multituse of buil;ding, breaking down and rebuilding again. This booth has been used at least 25 times, on practically as many locations. Pushing herslef to correct as much as she encounters, she has managed to divert her mind from pondering too much. Though she still finds it hard to fall asleep in the soft english bed, and to quiet the little voice in her head, she has found solace in the work she does.
Being done with this part of the puzzle, she allows herself to take a break and refill her mug in the kitchen, a door down the corridor. As she enters, she finds Klaus, who is on the phone, his face distorted in a concentrated look. She halts in her step as she sees worry in his expression , his eyes jumping to her face as she enters, then quickly diverted away. He quickly ends the conversation and she moves further into the kitchen, having waited at the door, not to disturb her colleague. As she slips her mug underneath the nozzle of the coffeemachine, she looks at him intrigued.
“Is everything ok Klaus? Or did you get out of bed on the wrong side?”
Since he arrived in the UK and took board in the same hotel as her, he and the landlady had taken liking to eachother and many nights are spent in her room, in the house behind the hotel, instead of his own. The large German doesn’t react to her playful joust, instead he folds his hands together and locks her eyes with his, his eye brows frowning in a serious look. He nudges his head towards the chair on the other side of the table, signalling her to take a seat. With a million questions in her eyes, she sits down and waits until he starts talking. Knowing him well, she knows he has to find the right words, before he can talk.
“Ella, He is here.. And he wants to see you.. He’s waiting in the hotel”
“Why?”
Her words slipping from her lips before the news has settled in her mind. This is indeed strange and immediatly she understands the worried look of her co-worker. It is highly unusual that mr Liska would visit the site personally. It has only happened twice, on both occasions the deadline was at risk and he came in to take matters into his own hands. The reputation of the IUD the most valued asset of the hidden organisation. He showed his skill on both occasions and both deadlines were met. The projectmanager in charge was fired without hesitation, and sued for negligence until he was broke. As her boss told her numerous times, ‘failure isn’t tolerated, but annihilated with a vengance’. This time it can’t be the reason of a deadline being threatened, they are almost a week ahead of schedule.
“I don’t know Ella, but you’d better get there as fast as you can. If you hurry, you can get off the island before the tide blocks the causeway”
“I guess I will be on my way then”
A quick look outside the window ontop the causeway, tells her she needs to hurry indeed. In 10 minutes the causeway will be closed and if she tried, she would be washed off in her car halfway. She quickly gets up from her chair and hurries back to the control room. She picks her bag off the floor and collects her keys, phone and liquorice, before heading to her car. As she arrives at the end of the causeway and reaches the shore, she is met with a civil servant, looking at his watch and shaking his head, shouting a punitive sentence at her window. Without giving him the light of day, she speeds off and within a couple of minutes, she reaches the hotel.
With a heavy heart and with her feet like millstones in her shoes, she enters the rear entrance of the hotel, and walks into the small breakfast room. With his back turned to the door, in the afternoon light of the sun, her boss is leaning back in his characteristic pose, his hand caressing the white goatee on his chin. As she arrives at the table, placing her bag on the chair next to the one she’s planning to sit in, she looks at him. His face expressionless as always, dressed like a gentleman. An expensive suit, with a deep red tie and a little silver rose decorating the fabric. She places her hands behind her back as she stands in front of him, looking into his eyes with an open visor.3
“You wanted to see me sir?”
“Yes Ella, I am glad you could come this quickly. I have an important question to ask and I wouldn’t ask it, if I didn’t have a suspicion of your answer. Please, sit down. Tea?”
Without awaiting her answer, he picks up a porcelain teapot and pours two cups of tea, adds sugar and cream and even stirs before he gently pushes the cup and saucer towards her. As she takes her place, he stirs his own tea, adds some more sugar after tasting the tea form his spoon and then folds his hand together, his forearms hugging the cup in front of him. His eyes probe hers as they interlock, drawn to his grey-green irissses unwantingly. Suddenly she feels exposed, the sense of her shields of defense being penetrated by that single look, as if he looks through her clothes, right into her soul. The feeling makes her twitch and the nervous movements of her fingers draw the attention of her boss.
“There is no question of problems Ella, I have come to you with a personal request. A request from the Target himself”
“What do you mean sir? A request from the Target. I can’t remember we have ever gotten a request”
With a big smile, her boss leans back in his chair again, his hand automatically moving up to his chin, but forced down to take hold of the cup of tea. In all rest he takes a sip, places the cup back on its saucer before he continues.
“Ella, this Target is someone special, you might have noticed the elaborate fashion of this assignment. I have spoken to him, as I have spoken to him hundreds of times before. I know him quite well, as he is my nephew”
“Your nephew? But sir.. Isn’t that against all regulations?”
Her eyes widen as the words sink in and the implications and questions start flowing through her mind. ‘Why would he chose his nephew as a target? The handbook forbids it. And why is he telling me all of this? And what does he want to ask me? No trouble? I feel rather uncomfortable for a good news conversation’. Her fingers still moving, interlocking, then releasing, rubbing her palms, concentrating on the tiny spec of dust that has collected under the nail of her right index finger.
“Who wrote the handbook you think? It doesn’t matter.. He found out, he knows all and he also knows what the purpose of his ultimate prize is... And that lead him to set a condition. He wants something, someone to be precise, in order to continue and finish his quest”
“Who does he want?”
Her heart starts pounding, her body heats up and suddenly her fingers slip, her hands wet with cold sweat. Unconsciously she starts to lean forward, her eyes greedily looking into those of her boss, her hands slising forward, almost touching his cup of tea. Her body starts to tingle and a flock of butterflies lifts off in her stomach, almost making her loose balance and slide off the front of the chair. Her cheeks flush as she notices her own eagerness to hear the answer, the hope that has lingered inside of her since the first time she saw the Target’s face, is suddenly ignited with reasons she doesn’t comprehend. Confused, but hanging on the lips of her boss, her eyes plea to hear the words.
“He wants a girl in zebra socks. Any idea who that might be?”
The twinkle in the eyes of her boss make her blush even more. ‘Zebra socks.. The socks she had on when she went to the theatre’. It became her lucky charm, bying funny socks whenever she had to host a Choice or to go out in the field. The first time she went out, her stockings ripped and in the freezing cold, she was forced to wear the first and only pair of socks she could find at the gasstation. Pink elephants on a lime green background. They were awfull, but she finished her first solo assignment with flying colors. Her heart pounding faster as ever before, her throat suddenly clenching and drying out within a second. With trembling fingers she picks up her tea and takes a sip, moistening her throat, her voice still raspy.
“Sir... Do you mean for the final night?”
Her heart skips a beat and a silent YES is screamed out in her head at the top of her lungs. She feels her armpitts drown in sweat, her body hot and tense, a strange tingle resonating in her lower body. She leans in further, her hands forming into fists, her knuckles whitening as the anticipation increases the tension in her muscles.
“Yes Ella, he wants you for the final night”
She feels herself start to float above the table, looking down on herself and her boss, noticing her own tense posture, the rest and peace in the hands and face of her boss. Unable to stop herself, detached with the shock of the request, the automated defense mechanism are set into motion and she hears herself answer.
“I need to think about that sir”
Her voice sounding metallic and distant, the words not uttered congruently, she hears her own desire tremoring in the words. Hovering above the table, she starts to scream at herself, reaching down, her hands grabbing air as she fights to get back into herself. The rational answer so contradictory to what her heart is trying to impose on her, she feels torn inside and lost. Instead of slipping back onto herself, she feels the coolness of her defensive walls as they close around her heart.
“Ofcourse Ella. I leave tomorrow morning. By then I must have your answer”
Though the response seems to open doors to escape from the opportunity, driven off by her defensive system, the urgent undertone in his voice tells her differently. Without a word she gets up from her chair and walks out of the hotel, drawn to the shore line, the soft breeze blowing her hairs back, a lock of hair caught on her cheek. Thoughtlessly she brushes the tress away and looks out over the ocean, the horizon obscured by the tremoring warm air above the waves. Her fingers twitching behind her back, questions, thoughts and desires tumbling in her head.
***
-
It’s 07:00 am, the alarm has gone off and slowly I push the sheets off my body, forcing myself to get out of bed. I’ve been back to work for a couple of weeks since this mystery started, and nothing has happened since. The mystery phone has gone silent, having to buy an adapter to keep the battery alive, it never buzzed again after pointing out the right clothing store. Ever since, the thoughts about the IUD and my discoveries about the organisation have occupied my mind, driving me half to obsession. After two tries to meet with my uncle, he made it clear there was no use discussing anything until after the final night. Today, that is 22 days to go.
There are still urgent questions that keep me busy as I get out of bed and hop into the shower, taking just a few minutes to wash my hair and body, not bothered to shave. Though today is the day I go to one of the most exclusive male clothing stores, it is also my day off. ‘Why am I supposed to go to this store? I have plenty of suits or outfits that would suit any occasion’. I shrug my shoulders and get out of the shower, my body dripping wet with water. With just a towel around my hips, I walk up to the mirror, whiping the condensate off the mirror. I pull a few funny faces, jiggle my hips and act silly, trying to out the tenseness that has knotted in my stomach. I am excited, nervous, anxious at the same time. Both times I went out for this mystery and had to go to some place, I was confronted with pure sex. The blowjob from the receptionist at the luggage deposit, the show of girls in the theatre. What will be presented this time?
I get dressed in my bedroom, a simple outfit that is comfortable to wear. A black shirt, blue jeans and a sweater, socks and shoes I can easily slip in and out of. I walk down the stairs, into the kitchen and turn on the coffee machine, rolling a cigarette as it heats up. I inhale the sharp smoke as i press the button of the machine and wait for the mug to fill. I walk into the study, set the cup down and look at the mystery phone. Nothing, like all days before. I open my laptop and check my schedule for the next day, only a few appointments, that could be rescheduled if needed. Uncertain of what the day will bring, I’ve informed my personal assistant, I might be away for longer as one day.
I look at the clock: 08:00, almost time to go. By subway it will take me about an hour and a half to get to Madison Avenue, so I should leave soon. I push myself off my chair and grab my keys off the desk, the knot in my stomach suddenly tightening, adrenaline starting to rush through my veins. The walk is not too far and the early morning is still chilly, dew covering cars and trees, the street busy already. I arrive at the subway station, get my ticket and move to the right level. Deciding to travel light, I only have a light jacket on, with my wallet, phones and house keys and I move through the crowd with ease.
Unable to find a seat, I hold on to one of the bars in the train unit as it serpetines its way through the tunnels. Unable to hold my balance, after a series of short, unexpected shift, I bump into a woman standing next to me, my arm accidentally pushed between her breasts. Quickly I grab the bar tighter and pull myself away from the woman, apologizing for my clumsyness. Without a word she clamps her purse under har arm and starts to move away, forcing herself through the people crowding the train.
Finally the train hobbles into Lexington Av and 63rd street and I get out. It’s only a few blocks and soon I across the street from the store. The facade looks clean, the bricked walls as if they were recently washed. The curb in fromt of the store spotless, not a left paper or leaf spoiling the crisp appearance of the store. I cross the street quicckly and suddenly my heart starts to pound in my chest, my hand lifting to push the door open. It slides open with ease and a little uneasy I walk inside.
The interior of the store is warm and light, the white marble floor covers the full surface of the store, the walls panneled with warm, light wood, spots lighting out the design, filling the store with a clear glow. As soon as I enter, a store-assistant approaches me, her face slightly distorted with a deprecatory look. I slide my hands in my pockets while I wait for her to reach me, looking around the store.
“Welcome to Domenico Vacca, I am Veronica. Is there anything I can do for you?“
“Hello Veronica, I have an appointment at 10:00”
“An appointment, sir? May I have your name? I will check the calendar. Would you like to take a seat?”
“My name is mr Weaver. I’ll wait overthere”
I look around and see 3 large leather seats set around a glass coffee table and slowly start to walk over, letting my eyes drift over the clothes and shoes, gloves and handbags, the quality indeed granting the high prices I see. I sit down in one of the seat and keep my eye on the girl as she walks behind the counter in the centre of the room, tapping away at a keyboard, looking intensely at a screen. I see her eyes squint, click a few times, then lean in to look closer, before she looks at me. Again she turns to the screen and then picks up a phone. Only a few words are exchanged before the phone is put down and she starts to walk over to me.
I am half way on my feet, when she raises her hands and urges me to keep seated. Her face is a little flushed and the words are not flowing from her mouth as in her initial, arrogant approach.
“Mr Weaver, I have just spoken to the manager. She will be here shortly to meet you. Is there something I can do for you in the meantime? Something to drink maybe? coffee or water?”
“Coffee would be great”
Suddenly I notice her cleavage, which seems to be deeper. As she leans in, I see her breasts fall into her shirt, pushing the opening in the fabric further apart, her nipples showing hard beneath the silk. Having glanced her over as any man does when meeting an attractive girl, I am convinced she somehow managed to open an extra button without me noticing. She smiles, turns and then knocks a couple of magazines off the curved glass table, bending forward in front of me to pick them up. Her skirt slides up her thighs, spanning over her well formed buttocks, the top of her stockings just visible as her fingers grab the magazines. Then she walks off, turning her head and glancing at me, before reaching the coffee machine.
When she returns, she hands me the cup personally, instead of putting it on the table, letting her fingers slide over mine, leaning in even further, the miss of a bra appearant from the look she allows me. I take the cup and saucer from her and thank her, watching her swaying hips as she walks back to the counter. I add the single sachet of sugar, stir and taste, squinting my eyes with the bitterness. I smile, find the girl behind the counter, having felt her eys on me the whole time. I only have to look at her and then at my cup and immediatly she leaves her spot and walks up to me again.
“Do you have more sugar Veronica? I like my coffee very sweet”
“Ofcourse mr Weaver, I’ll be right back”
Again that quick look over her shoulders as she sways her hips seductively. Soon she returns with the sugar, but before i can blend the grains with the dark liquid, a blonde woman appears from a hidden door in the back, entering the room in the corner of my eye. A flash of recognition hits me as she starts to walk closer, the blonde hair, the full breasts, the long legs but especially that smile all too familiar. ‘The girl from the theatre...’ Immediatly my heart starts pounding, time seemingly slowing down the closer she gets. She looks at me directly, drawing my attention to her and her only, almost demandingly.
She’s dressed in a short, deep red velvet skirt, pronouncing the curve of her hips and the lenght of her legs. Her torso wrapped in a black top, her arms bare, just one button keeping the fabric together around her breasts. Her face soft, the look in her eyes vibrant, like a smouldering fire, ready to roar up. The minimal make-up makes her face light up with her natural beauty. She slows down her pace as she nears me, extending her arm, offering me her hand to greet me. I take her slender fingers in mine and look into her eyes as I squeeze gently.
“Good morning mr Weaver, I am so glad you could make it. I am Chloe, and I will help you today. Would you please follow me?”
“Good morning Chloe. I think we have met before, but were never formally introduced. I am glad we are now. I am in your hands, lead and I will follow”
“Maybe we have mr Weaver”
She smiles seductively, turning her head slightly away, curling her lips in a shy smile before she steps away and lets me get up. Making sure I am right behind her, she walks to the back of the store again, her movements self-assured, seductive, a natural sexual energy making her body move fluently. Immediatly I feel the same excitement as in the theatre, strongly attracted to her, my body not unresponsive to the girl right before me. She opens the door and steps a little to the side, her hand inviting me, her body leaving only a narrow gap to slide through, into the corridor behind the door. I smile and move through the gap she’s left and feel her body lean in as soon as I rub up against her. I feel her breasts drag along my arm, her warm breath on my face as she brings it close to me. My hips touch her abdomen and I can feel the warmth of her body through my clothes. Her voice soft and low, almost a moan.
“Just up the stairs and through the door, mr Weaver”
I walk the few paces to the stairs and climb them slowly, hearing the soft clicks of the high heels of Chloe right behind me. I can feel her eyes burn on me as I reach the top of the stairs and step through the open door. I enter the room and look around. It’s practically empty, except for a table with a small laptop, a couch to the side, below the only window in the room. And in the center of the room, a machine is connected to the laptop with a thin cable. A round platform is mounted on a wider base, a plastic casing supporting a rod, where a camera is mounted. The machine is about 8 feet high and 5 feet wide and takes up a quarter of the room. I feel the warm breath of Chloe on my neck, as her hand slides to my sides and a gentle nudge pushes me completely into the room. A shiver runs down my spine, she turns and closes the door, locking it with a key which she leaves in the keyhole.
She then grabs my hands and takes me over to the couch, where she sets me down. Immediatly she crawls into my lap, pulling her skirt up higher, straddling me with her thighs. With her lips teasingly close to me, her eyes looking deep into mine and her pelvis leaning against mine, I am overwhelmed with the sudden rush of attention and struggle to collect my thoughts. But before I get the opportunity to say anything, her warm lips are pushed against mine in a soft, sensual kiss, exploring, hesitant, then more eager as I respond in a reflex. Her lips part and she slowly drags them over mine, wetting my lips, then the tip of her tongue slides out, licking my lips from corner to corner. Just as I open my mouth to let her tongue slip in, she pushes herself away from me, breaking the kiss, getting in front of me. Her eyes glisten and slowly she licks her lips, as if she is tasting me
“Mr Weaver, you are here to be measured for a suit. A suit you will need for the final night.
But for that..”
She pauses and takes a step back, catching the light that falls in through the window. She moves her hand up and unbuttons the single button of her top. Her hands cross in front of her stomach and she grabs the hem of her top. Slowly she pulls it up, exposing more and more of her stomach, then lifts the fabric over her breasts and lets them fall free on her chest. With a quick move, she takes the top off and throws it on the couch next to me. She lets her hands slide over her chest and body, while she keeps my eyes locked in with hers, allowing the occasional stray as she rubs her fingers over her body. Her hands slide to her back and soon her skirt is slowly sliding down her legs as she turns, black, laced stocking hug her legs, held up by a garterbelt, no panties or bra. On her high heels, wearing just her stockings and garter belt, she stands in the light and slowly turns in a circle for me.
“But to be able to get the right measurements, you need to be naked and in a fully erect state. I am here to assist you and ensure you will reach that state”
My eyes are glued to her as she slowy undresses herself and shows me her beautiful body, the smile on her face and the look in her eyes, convincing me of her eagerness to assist me. I shift in the couch, allowing my growing member more room, the bulge in my pants shifting as it stretches into the cramped room. I open my mouth and start to talk, only to find that my throat is dry and clenched, and I have to cough frst before I am able to reply. The thoughts tumbling in my head, the growing desire in my loins adding to the intense discussion forming in my head, and slowly gaining terrain. Doubting to want to continue, having never had a girl offer herself like this. But also realising that if I don’t oblige to the wishes of the IUD, I will never get to the final night, nor will I ever continue the conversation with my uncle. I clear my throat again.
“Chloe.. does that machine have anything to do with the measuring part of this appointment?”
-
She moves in closer, having seen the answer in my eyes. She nestles herself in my lap again, guides my hands to her hips and pushes her chest against my body. She kisses me again, this time her tongue breaking through my lips in a quick sweep, before she leans back and looks into my eyes.
“Yes mr Weaver, that machine makes a 3d scan of your body, it is very accurate. We need these accurate measurements to make your suit a tight fit. But before we can use the machine, we need to get you ready”
She starts to grind her hips, my swelling member pushing against her sex as she sat down. Slowly she rubs herself over my bulge, as she lets her lips drift along my cheek, to my ear. She kisses the lobe before she sucks it into her mouth. After a quick nibble, she lets her tongue run through the shell, her soft, warm breaths making my skin crawl, goose bumps popping up everywhere. My hands start to drift over her buttocks and sides, enticed by her eagerness, pushed on by my own growing desire. My hands follow her slow moving hips, squeezing her buttocks, pressing her tighter into me. As she feels me grow against her, she slides off my lap, a damp spot left behind on my pants. She takes my hand and pulls me off the couch, catching me in her arms, her body connecting firmly with mine. Her hands slide to me back and slide underneath my sweater, pulling my shirt out of my pants. Grabbing both, she pushes them upwards and along my arms as I raise them. Tossed on the couch next to her top, my sweater and shirt land turned inside out. Her hands eagerly slide to my front and open button and zipper of my jeans, her hand sliding into my briefs, fingers folding around my shaft, sliding down to the base.
“Take them off mr Weaver”
Her voice trembling slightly as she moves her hand in my briefs, stroking the growing shaft, the veins pulsating against her palm underneath the silky skin. I can’t help but moan as I feel her fingers grab me and take me in a tight hold. Without thinking I push my briefs and pants down, stepping carefully out of them as she looks down at my exposed cock. She takes a step back and looks at it, as if she is judging the size and the speed of twitches as blood is pumped into the chambers of the shaft. Then she steps in again, wraps her arms around my neck and pulls herself onto her toes, catching my cock between our bodies and sliding her pelvis over it. She kisses me, then lets herself down again, pulling the foreskin down, exposing the head. A few droplets of precum that collected in the eye, are smeared over her skin as she drags herself down.
Without stopping she keeps sliding down further, her lips now dragging a wet trail down over my chest and stomach, my member touching her neck first, before it slides along her jaw towards her mouth. Holding it firmly in one hand, she wets her lips before she leans in and sucks the head into her mouth. Her tongue circles around, coating it with saliva, the first taste reaching her taste buds. Slowly she pushes herself further down on my member, the tip grazing along the roof of her mouth. She looks up as she halts, my cock half way in her mouth. As she locks her eyes in with mine, she slowly moves her head down further and takes me in until her lips rest againt my pelvis. The head pushing against her throat as it grows in her mouth, the sudden suction she applies, increases the bloodflow. Within seconds I feel her throat open and close around the head in a swallowing motion as her fingers close around the base tightly, locking the blood in.
I start to breath fast, brought to a high level of lust quicker as I thought possible and look down as Chloe locks my cock in her mouth and sucks it to a full erection. Her breasts lean against my legs, her hard nipples drag intricate patterns on my skin as she slowly moves her hips in a small circle. As I follow her arm down, I see her hand between her legs, slowly rubbing her sex, dipping in, appearing wet and glistening. Slowly Chloe starts to move her head, her fingers releasing the base and grabbing my ass, fingers taking a hold as she lets it slide almost all the way out. A quick suck on the head, before she pushes herself forward and takes me into her throat in a single move, while she pulls my body into her by my butt. As soon as her lips touch my body, she pushes herself off, only to let my cock plunge into her throat again.
I feel the wet fingers of her other hand dig into my butt as she holds onto me, keeping her balance and pulling me into her mouth as she starts to move faster. Suddenly she slows down, pushes me into her mouth as far as it goes and starts to hum. The quick vibrations hit the tip of my cock, sending them amplified through my shaft and to my core, a loud grunt leaving my lips and echoing in the room. She keeps humming for as long as she can, before she slides me out and gasps for air. As soon as she caught her breath, she gets up and takes my hand, guiding me to the machine. I step onto the round platform and she pushes a button. As soon as the camera starts to rotate around me, she checks of the image is being constructed correctly. She sits up on the desk, opens her legs and exposes her sex to me. Her eyes making sure I focus on her, she starts to slide her hand over her moist lips, her finger dipping in, collecting her nectar which she rubs into her sex. She bites her bottom lip as her fingers open her sex and her wetness flows from her centre.
She presses two fingers against her lips and slowly lets them sink away into her wet sex, as she rubs her thumb up and down, exposing her clit little by little. Wetting her thumb on her lips, she rubs her nectar into her hard nub, the moans emitting from her throat, becoming louder and more urgent. I catch her looking down, at my cock as she pleasures herself for me, promising her body with her eyes, the camera teasingly slow, moving from top to bottom in dizzying circles. The movements of her hand become stronger, her hips start to move, her feet pushing her off the table, pushing against her fingers as she moves them in and out of her wet channel.
“Mr Weaver... please...”
With a sudden beep the machine comes to a standstill and Chloe leans up, stretching out her arm, her hand open. With greed I get off the platform and walk to the desk, my eyes fixed on the hand that now rapidly moves over her sex, fingers pushing in deep, nectar drawn out and coating her inner thighs. I step in between her legs and immediatly she grabs my cock with her wet fingers and guides it to her entrance. The head slips in between the open, slick lips and I press it against her entrance, feeling her heat wash over me, feeding my lust. I grab her hips and push, sliding my shaft into her wet channel with ease, her channel dripping wet, lubricating the slide. I cry out as I enter her, feeling her tighten around me as our pelvisses meet.
Burried deep inside of her, I hold still, letting the sensations of her body wrapped around me, sink in. Lust now roaring in my core, pushing away the last conscious thoughts that linger, claiming priority and taking over my body bit by bit. My back arches, slowly sliding out, hands sliding up her legs, nestling in the hollows of her knees, slowly pushing them back to her chest, spreading them wide open. On the edge of the desk, her body meets mine as I push back into her, the thrust urgent, hard and deep, a wet, slapping sound heard as our bodies collide. My need for her allows no pauses and I pull back, only to pound back into her, the bottled up sexual energy finally finding its way out. Chloe lays back, her eyes closed, her fingers stretched out on the desk as I take her. Each punch into her accompanied with a load moan, her voice urgent and demanding, consumed by her own need*
“Take me mr Weaver... Oh yess... Harder... Make me cum..”
Her hips rock, our motions in sync, meeting me with each thrust, her breasts flailing on her chest with each impact. She grab her own legs and holds them wide open, allowing me to grab her hips and hold her, fingers digging deep into her soft flesh. The flow of her nectar heavy, the juices splattered over our inner thighs and pelivsses, the smell of sex filling the room, the palette of her scent sweet, layered, intricate, intoxicating. My body now fully controlled by pure lust, moving in a mechanic rhythm back and forth into her, each push bringing me closer to the brink or orgasm. My moans turn into grunts, setting the pace for our clashing bodies, then turning silent as I feel her suddenly tense up in my hands. Her sex starts to convulse and her eyes roll back, her mouth wide open, screaming a silent, orgasmic scream.
Her orgasm unleashes a gush of her juices, coating my shaft in heat, nudging me over the edge of the threshold of pleasure and as white light blinds my eyes, I cry out her name in a primal scream. My body starts to jerk and shock as I push myself as hard and far inside her as I can, jetting my semen into her spasming channel, the jerks and twitches of my shaft mixing our juices together. My body starts to tremble as I feel the energy drain from my legs and I lean on top of Chloe, her legs fallen back to her feet, limp, her chest heaving as she slowly starts to settle down from the eruption inside her mind and body. I kiss her, one, twice, then feel her answer, our lips connecting tighter, tongues starting to move in a slow and sensual dance. I slide my hands underneath her body and slowly lift her off the desk, taking the few steps to the couch and resting her on my lap.
She leans her head back and looks at me in a gaze, flashing her eyelashes a few times before she focuses and a smile starts to curl her warm, welcoming mouth. She slides her arms around my neck and nestles herself against my chest with a satisfied sigh, leaning her head against my neck and shoulder. Her fingers play with my hair, her body warm, aftershocks making her tremble from time to time. Without exchanging a word, we both share the warm sense of satisfaction, after a very passionate encounter. But after a few minutes, she slides off my lap, collects her skirt and top and quickly dresses herself. She hands me my pants, folds the shirt and sweater outside in again and gives them to me.
“You can shower when you get home, mr Weaver. I want you to smell me on you, at least until then..”
“I gather we are done Chloe? What will happen next? Will I see you again? Aren’t you the chosen girl?”
Slowly I slip into my briefs, the skin of my lower body already getting sticky from our mixed juices. My shirt and jeans follow, the sweater kept in my hands as I walk over to the desk. Chloe is looking at the 3d image and checks it for mistakes, before she saves the image and closes the laptop. She smiles, kisses my lips quickly, before she gets off from the chair and walks to the door. I put on my sweater and get my jacket and walk to the door as well.
“I am sorry sir, I can’t tell you what will happen next, I don’t know. All I can tell, is that you will get the instructions on time. But for now, your quest can move to the next stage. This one was very succesful”
She giggles, her cheeks blushing, matching the color she had during sex. She unlocks the door and opens it, lets me walk through and pushes her body against me again, dragging her chest along mine. I walk down the stairs and wait for her at the door to the store, letting her open it and step out after her. She accompanies me to the door to the street, staying close to me, her arm constantly brushing against mine. At the door she extends her hand and shakes mine, her fingers lingering just too long before releasing.
“Goodbye mr Weaver, I hope your visit with Domenico Vacca was satisfactory”
“Very much so ms Chloe, I hope to return here again and enjoy your hospitality”
Without looking back, I leave the store, cross the street and head off towards the subway station, a little spring in my step, my lips pouted as I whistle a tune.
“Always look on the bright side of life..”
***
With firm steps she almost marches back to the hotel, the time spent at the seaside spent on debating. A heart-mind battle that nearly got out of hand, people looking at her wearily as she cursed the waves, projecting herself on the foamy heads. Her heart tells her to take the chance, to be with this man that has been in her dreams, and is gaining more and more access to her heart. Her mind, and all the ingrained patterns screaming her not to, dumping huge blocks of reinforced concrete on top of the defenses she spent years perfecting, making them inpenetrable in a quick pace. She will have to betray either one of them, whatever she decides. And the battle is in deadlock. She slips her hand in her pocket and finds a coin. She takes it out, looks at it for a few seconds, then carefully places it on her index finger.
“Heads for yes, tails for no”
‘Please let it be heads, please let it be heads, please...’ She repeats the mantra in her head as the coin tumbles through the air, her hand waiting, palm open, catching it and her fingers closing around it. She takes the coin and quickly places it on top of her other hand, the reluctantly looks down. It’s...
***
-
Hesitantly she opens her hand a little, peaks inside then lifts her hand up completely, the sun catching the coin on the top of her hand, the light hitting the embossed letters and symbols. ‘Heads..’. She almost cries out in her happiness and then is hit by the unavoidable consequences. She will be his during the final night. He wanted her. ‘But how.. ‘. Slowly some of the pieces start to fall into place, but a lot of questions remain as she opens the door and walks back into the breakfast room of the hotel. Her boss is still there, leaning back in his chair and stroking his white goatee. With her heart beating in her chest, she walks back up to the table and sits down again in front of him.
“You’ll have to go to London Ella”
“I have so many questions, sir”
Is her answer that obvious? As she sits down, the eyes of her boss interlock with hers and a smile starts to curl his lips, his look warm and welcoming. Her stomach slowly starts settle down, a flock of butterflies flapping wings, making her almost nauseous. He takes her hands in his, the warmth of his palms drying the cold sheen of sweat that formed on hers. His smile and the simple touch of his hands set her mind at ease, the decision she made strengthened, with the confirmation in his eyes.
“I will answer them all in the car. We have to go right away. You will need a suit for the final night, and D.V. needs 3 weeks. Time is pressed. So pack a small bag, you will be back here in 2 days”
“But sir, the work on the booth? Who will take over?”
“Klaus told me you are 4 days ahead of schedule. And I imagine you would want to spend your time, preparing for your own night. Am I wrong?”
“No sir. I’ll go pack right away”
Her cheeks blush as he hits a soft spot. How could she let someone else prepare the control room, check the smallest details of the planned night? No, this project is hers, now more than ever. As she walks up the stairs to her room, her mind is filled with his eyes, suddenly appearing, drawing her attention away. As in a dream she packs a small bag, looks around her room to check if she has forgotten anything, then turns and walks back down. Her boss is already waiting at the backdoor that leads to the parking lot behind the hotel. He holds the door open for her and lets her step out, the day seemingly brighter as an hour before. With a little spring in her step, she walks to the car and takes her seat on the left side of the Aston Martin DB9. The luxurous interior overwhelms a little and without saying a word, she’s driven off. The rural country side of west-Anglia slips by in endless fields of wheat, then after a few hours, trees start to appear and soon they whiz through forests and over hillsides.
“Sir, how did he find me? I don’t understand.. He asked for the girl in zebra socks, how did you know it was me?”
“Actually, how he found out is forcing me to change protocol on the approach of the location for any event, by our operatives. Daniel was having coffee at the coffeeshop across the street and saw you enter the theatre. He was early”
“I am so sorry sir. I thought I went in there unseen. It never crossed my mind that he might already be there. So next time all operatives should be at location as soon as possible? This just has never happened before. The same as him staying behind after the Choice was finished”
She wriggles her hands in her laps as she looks to her right, the face of her boss adorned with a serious frown, concentrated on traffic as they speed along the M1. He looks at her for a second, his face softening and smiling, a tingle in his eyes she has never seen before. He seems very content with her answer, and now that her decision is made, it feels better and better. For a moment she lets her thoughts drift off to Daniel. She realises it is the first time she thought of his first name, instead of thinking in terms of targets and mr Weaver. It makes her blush again and to divert her attention away, she looks at her watch. It’s around 5 pm and suddenly she feels a rush of desire fill her core. Within the blink of an eye, her body is set on fire and her nipples harden, her core warm and moist. Caught by surprise, she represses the thoughts of his naked body furiously moving between her legs, and represses the rush of desire filling her veins. Her voice a whimper as she speaks.
“When I met him at the coffeeshop...”
“Yes, I am not sure what you said or did in there, but you appareantly captured him. He was very determined when he said he wanted you for the final night. He is a very smart man and he exceeded my expectations. And appareantly he shares the same taste for coffee with the girl in zebra socks”
“Sir, I didn’t do anything. We didn’t speak, we just looked at eachother. And then I left..”
“There must have been something in your eyes that put him under your spell. Ella..”
Suddenly the car swirfs to the left and exits to a parking area on the highway. Parked at the furthest spot from the other cars, he shuts the car down, unbuckles his seat and turns himself to her, taking her hand in his again.
“This whole mystery we have built around Daniel, has a purpose, different from all other Final Nights we have organised. It is not about pampered boys and girls being treated to a mind blowing, sexual escapade. This time the future of the IUD depends on it”
“What do you mean sir?”
She raises her eyebrows and looks at him curiously. She noticed the elaborate plans, was surprised but also intrigued by the set up. From the start she felt there was a deeper layer beneath the usual reason for a Final Night. When she studied the picture of the target for the first time, she noticed a familiarity with the appearance of her boss, that she could not designate to satisfaction. There were similarities, the eyes, the nose, the chin. But that is where the similarity ended. Still, this was not a spoiled young man that needed to seed his oats a last time before settling down and starting a family. This plan betrayed a much bigger goal.
“I am getting old, Ella. And within the ranks of the IUD, there is noone that can take over the company and lead it on succesfully. I have monitored my nephew for years, his path of education, his career has been partially directed by me. I have seen the capabilities in him and tried to create the circumstances for them to flourish”
“Does he know all of this, sir?”
“Yes, he put all the pieces together and confronted me with it. Though he doesn’t know the details yet, neither of the Final Night or the full scope of the IUD, he has an idea of the purpose and goal of this Final Night, and what the IUD does. He guessed I am looking for a successor.”
“Sir, what will happen to me after this? Will I still have a job at IUD? If he is going to be the new CEO of IUD, wouldn’t it be awkward for me to work there? Normally the Target never sees the partner for that night ever again”
“That is not completely true, Ella. 3 Targets actually married their partner..”
Amazed she looks at him, her eyes wide open, her hands in her lap. Her fingers are entangled and the tight squeeze makes her knuckles white. The rules of the handbook imprinted in her mind, she rereads article 24.3 in her mind.
‘No Target shall meet his partner of the Final Night again, cases of force majeur excluded’
There seems to be no end to the layers of secrecy surrounding the IUD. A plan in a plan in a plan, and appareantly she has had access to only the top layers. What else is hidden behind this whole proposition, his request to have her for the final night? Is there more? More layers to be unvaled? If she’s ever going to discover all. ‘Marriage... why did he say that?’
“Hidden from everyone’s view, a computer program collects the biological data from the ones in the booth on the final night. The information the body suits give me, is compared, matched and occasionally an exceptional result is presented. Sometimes the partners connect so well together, a match is made that promises a positive future outside of the booth as well. In all 3 cases, both the partner and the Target moved heaven and earth to get in touch again and requested the details of the other. Only in the cases where a 100% match was made, the partners were reunited. And in all 3 cases, it led to marriage. The first couple was matched 20 years ago, and they are still together”
“Sir... why do you allow me to be there, for him? It is against all regulations”
“It is Ella, but I have a feeling there might be a perfect match again. I have seen his eyes when he requested you and I have seen yours when you speak of him.”
She turns away from him, overwhelmed with the notion, silently staring in the distance as her boss starts the car and drives off again, another 80 miles to go before reaching London. As the panorama outside the windows slowly changes, more and more buildings appearing, the countryside changing to city outskirts, she gazes without seeing, her mind drifted off. When she closes her eyes and imagines his face, she feels transluscent threads form, connecting her with him. The more she concentrates on those threads, the closer she feels him with her. She senses the tension in her body disappearing. Slowly the walls of her defense start to crumble as she submits to the warmth those threads emit. In her thoughts, she reaches for the threads and wraps them around herself, intensifying the connection, opening her heart little by little, letting a droplet of his being trickle inside. But before she can absorb his essence in her being, the car suddenly stops. When she looks outside, she finds the car in front of Harrods, the mega store in the centre of London. With question marks written on her forehead, she looks at her boss.
“Why are we here, sir?”
“Domenico Vacca is inside, we have an appointment. We have to hurry, someone is waitng for us.”
He gets out and hands the keys to a formally dressed doorkeeper. Then he walks around and opens the door on Ella’s side and offers her his hand. She slips her fingers into his and leans on him as she gets out of the car. As she steps in besides him, he slides her hand up his arm and walks towards the entrance. They go up two floors and in the back she sees the name and the designs from the italian designer. As they reach the desk, a young man greets them enthousiasticly.
“Mr Liska, what a pleasure to see you again! Everything is prepared for the measuring and as I understand, we have not a minute to loose. Would you please follow me?”
He opens a door to the back and leads them through a corridor to another door. As they step into the room, a small desk and the same bodyscanner as in the store in New York, are filling most of the available space. Only a screen is placed in a corner, partially hiding a chair and some clothing hangers. Ella looks around, the machine all too familar, being partially resposible for designing and programming it. She smiles as she sees the two men walk towards the laptop and start to run the programs needed. She clears her throat first, before she speaks, placing her feet both firmly on the ground, her hands placed in her sides.
“Gentlemen, I understand your dedication to the task ahead, but I think I am more familiar with the machine as you, and I would like some privacy”
“Ella, I know you can operate the machine better as anyone else, but maybe it is better if Brendan would operate the machine. I don’t want any mistakes.”
“Sir, as you said yourself, noone would be more dedicated to make this night special, as me. I will be fine and quicker as anyone else. I would feel much more comfortable”
“Well, in that case.. Brendan, let’s leave the lady alone.”
Her boss extends his arm and grabs the young clerk by his shoulder, having to almost tear him away, his eyes fixed on the face and body of the young woman. Reluctantly he walks ahead of her boss out of the room, casting blatant looks of desire over his shoulder. She chuckles, knowing all too well how a measuring is conducted. When a girl picked at the Choice is sent for a measuring, the same procedure as with a Target is followed. The girl is brought to a maximum level of excitement before the image is made. Though all girls are informed ahead this is not a requirement, they gladly go along with the procedure. They are selected for their sexual desire after all. But for the suit to fit like a second skin, they don’t need to be excited. She slides behind the laptop and checks the progress of the program. All indicators are green, the machine ready to go. She walks to the screen and starts to undress herself. Though she’s alone in the room, a sense of embarrassement shoots through her mind. Carefully she hangs her clothes on the hangers, leaving her silk, laced panties on the chair before she steps from behind the screen naked.
She walks to the laptop, enters the delayed command and gets up on the platform. She closes her eyes as she tries to relax as much as possible, letting her mind drift to the Target, Daniel. The soft buzz of the servo motors moving the camera keep her connected with the present, as she dives deep into his eyes, feels the transluscent threads of energy capsulate her and warm her through and through. The longer she emerges herself, the more layers are built up in her core, her desire slowly awakening, embers softly glowing, waiting for a brisk breeze to flare up and burn brightly. Before she is ready to let go of her daydream, the buzzing stops and the drawer of the dvd-recorder slides open. With a deep sigh, she releases his eyes and steps off the platform, checks the image and saves it. Then she walks back to the screen and dresses herself, feeling a warm glow of excitement in her core, as she adjusts her panties.
Dressed and with a blush on her face, she closes the laptop, turns off the scanner and slides the dvd in a cover. With the shiny disc in her hand, she walks through the door, along the corridor and knocks before she opens the door to the store. The two men are waiting at the counter, the clerk behind it, her boss in front, chatting away. Two heads turn towards her, the young man’s face with a disappointed look in his eyes as he looks her over. Her boss smiles, walks up to her and takes the dvd from her extended hand.
“I will take care of this personally, Ella. There is no need for anyone besides the tailor to know your exact dimensions”
“Thank you sir, I think some would be all to eager to see what I look like underneath”
She casts a disapproving look at the young clerk, who’s face has turned red, caught with his evident want for her. They walk off, leaving the young clerk embarrassed behind, but not after he made a phonecall, anouncing their leave. As they exit the large store, the doorkeeper is waiting with the door of the car open. They get in and set off for the short drive to the Dorchester Hotel. It takes them only 10 minutes to get to the hotel, the distance short but traffic dense. After checking in, they are brought to two connecting suits, and as she enters hers, she is stunned with amazement. She knew the IUD had money, but that they had this kind of money to spend, astonishes her. She walks into the room and lets her hands slide over the soft cover of the bed, admiring the room in boutique style. The bathroom is lined with white marble tiles, streaked with grey veins and the large bath looks particularly inviting, but before she can decide to fill it up, there is a knock on the door.
“Ella, we have reservations at ‘Alain Ducasse´, we need to eat. Or at least I do”
“Ofcourse sir, just give me a few minutes to put something on”
Quickly she throws her small suitcase on the bed and takes out the small, black dress. It has always been one of her favorites, the soft velvet structure, with the intricate vine pattern, opening up the fabric, her skin shining through. Quickly she takes off her pants and top, and puts on the dress. Changing her shoes, a dab of perfume and a quick look in the mirror. The blush fuelled by her inner excitement looks good on her, no need for additional make up. She walks towards the door and exits, looking to her left to find her boss patiently waiting on a small sofa in the corridor. Immediatly he stands up, buttons up his jacket and slides his hands over the small creases, before offering his arm to her.
“You look beautiful Ella, you make me a proud man”
“Thank you sir.”
“Tomorrow we will go into London for a few more necessities for the Final Night, but tonight it’s dinner and to bed”
She blushes as she lets her arm slip into his, feeling him holding her tightly as he clenches his arm to his body. They walk to the elevator and take a few floors down, arriving at the french restaurant where they are galantly brought to their table. After a small, but delicious dinner, she returns to her suite, while her boss settles at the bar. When she wakes up in the middle of the night, the room chilly, her sheets kicked down her body, she gets up to close the window. As she grabs the handle of the window, she suddenly hears muffled sounds from the room next to hers, a woman panting, her voice hoarse as she asks for more. With her cheeks turning bright red again, she closes the window and the sounds of sex die away. When she slides into bed again and curls up on her side, the only way she can replace the images of her boss that she unwillingly formed in her mind, is to drown herself again in the eyes of Daniel, the man she will give herself to, on the Final Night.
***
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The last two weeks have been dragging along. Every day seemed like an eternity, and even with hindsight they feel long. Nothing happened after the measuring. I took a long shower after coming home, the scent of Chloe drifting up into my nose with each step on the way back, her sweet scent now embedded in my mind and for a few days she haunted my dreams. But each time I felt her wrapped around me, making passionate love to me, her eyes were not hers. Her eyes were those of the girl in zebra socks, demanding my attention. I’ve heard nothing from my uncle, and seeing Chloe during the measuring, didn’t give my faith firm ground to root in. Except that first night, the night after being with Chloe. I dreamt that transluscent threads were wrapping around me, connecting me, tying me to her. I could see her eyes in the background, warm, loving, lustful. And I was unable to defend myself from those glowing threads of energy. As they wove an intricate web of loops and knots around me, I felt my aversion lifted of me and a single thread made a connection to my heart. But before it could blend in with my being, I woke up, covered in sweat, her eyes still fixated on me in my mind.
The silence has been killing, and even this morning it seems worse. There is only one week left before the final night, today is the 14th of june. Thursdays used to be reserved for my uncle, at least one a fortnight. He’d expect me at 8 pm, on the porch behind his house. The whiskey would be waiting, the glasses empty, waiting for that solemn moment, when he would pour the whiskey, two fingers high, into two heavy crystal glasses. Silence as we swirved the liquid, smelled it and with closed eyes sipped. He taught me to savour the taste, breathe in through my nose to peel away layer by layer, roll it over my taste buds and against my palate. Take my time to discover the intense taste and smell of the whiskey. On occasion he would test my memory, make me close my eyes and guess the brand.
The Final Night is on a thursday as well. Maybe that is significant to my uncle. Nothing in this mystery is coincidental, happens by accident. Every event, date, place and time are carefully planned. It has taken years to plan this plot, have acces to the buildings, recruite the right people. Was the girl selected for that purpose? Was she meant to meet me? My gut feeling tells me this was the only unplanned situation and it has made the plan more complicated. Though it is easy to follow the conspiracy theory that formed in my mind, I chose to stick with my gut. This was an accident but maybe on another level intended. I smirk, for a Final Night, they sure picked a nice one. The shortest one in the year. So there must be a different reason for the date. And the place... The lighthouse is built on an Island. On the maps it shows the setting sun will be be over England, not the ocean. But the sunset will be over the ocean and that promises a spectacular sight. Maybe that is the reason for the location.
But the summer solstice has a lot of rituals surrounding it, and I decide to get into the study and start a search. After a few articles, I find a ritual that was held on the summer solstice. At the end of the day fires are lit, and eligable young men and women bathed naked in the water. Around midnight, the girls would leave the water and disappear singing in the woods, after which the young men would follow. If they looked carefully, they would find ‘the flower of the fern’, and that would give the gift of life. Nevertheless, if the young man would reappear from the woods with a flower ring on his head, the young woman now engaged.
There is also a large article about a cultural festival in Poland, but I discard it. The connection between the lighthouse in the UK and a festival in Poland seems unlikely. Besides that, my uncle has always held strongly to tradition. Rituals are as important to him as eating and drinking and his life is filled with them. One of the most appareant is how he strokes his goatee. A ritualised soothing gesture that evolved into a tic. If anything, the slow moving fingers over his beard, when he considers his words, characterises him more as anything. So the pagan ritual suits the occasion. This does point towards marriage though, the man and woman disapearing in the woods, consuming their love and reappearing bound. The man wearing a ring of flowers around his head. Bound to his woman. flashbacks of my dream shoot through my head and drifting off, I see myself leave the trees, a wreath of flowers on my head, dragging behind are transluscent threads of energy that are connected to the heart and face of my girl. The girl in zebra socks, her brown eyes sparkling in bliss.
***
She gets out of the car and walks across the causeway to the lighthouse. The whole island has now been enclosed with 9 feet high fences, covered with black plastic. Even the proud tower has been taken from view by scaffolding covered with the same black plastic. A square silhouette protruding from a squared black box. As she walks up to the gate that blocks the access to the island, she whistles on her fingers and the gate is opened immediatly. She’s welcomed by the grin of Klaus who has been working twice as hard since he heard that Ella would be using the booth on the Final Night. As she steps through the gate and follows the narrow corridor towards the smalls square in front of the lighthouse, she smiles proud.
The whole setting has had a metamorphosis. The corridor feels like wheat field, the oars thick and yellow, and with the windmachine, they will be swaying in the breeze. She follows the dirt path to the square and lets her eyes slide along the new exterior of the lighthouse. The outside of the lighthouse has transdormed into the trunk of an enormeous tree, vines and creepers curling around and upwards. The entrance has turned into the hollow of a tree, a grass lawn laid out up to the water, a stone staircase built to access the water easily. A path is laid out in large, flat boulders, leading from the water to the entrance of the tree. As she steps inside, the metal staircase has been transformed to cracks and footholds ‘naturally formed’ by the tree, the inside lit by a laser technique, resembling fireflies.
Slowly she walks the stairs and steps through the small door at the top of the tower. As she steps inside the booth, the entrance seemless molten in with the new wall padding, the videocarpet is showing snow, the intensity of the screens making her raise her arm in front of her eyes. Klaus has been one step behind her, glued to her since he got the news, whenever she is at the site. He hands her a pair of glasses and quickly she puts them on, the intense radiation from the screens lining the walls and ceiling of the booth, dimmed to an acceptible level.
“We are in testing stage laready Ella, just a few more bugs to solve and we can do a testrun soon”
“Any idea when Klaus? And I’d love an answer in hours, not days”
Her days are packed. Besides the intense programming of the booth, creating the right environment, connecting to the scent machines, the climat control and the 3d imaging software, she also received a large document, explaining her role and the complete walk through of the evening. She has to know the ritual by heart as she will be his guide for that evening. At least until they hit the bed. She giggles secretly, the want to surrender to his strong arms and his sex drive has given her chills each time she imagined it. But the script contains the full explanation of the ritual, the songs she is supposed to sing and where to be when. After a full 10 hours of programming, checking connections and cables, and advising Klaus on cosmetic issues, she spends another 4 hours per day in studying for her role.
Mr Liska took immediate action after they woke up the next morning in London. Though there was no sign on his face of his sexual escapage that night, there seemed to be a satisfied expression on his face. After breakfast, he took her to a few clothing stores, the dress and lingerie picked out for the first part of the evening, up until the bathing. From that moment on, she would be naked for a while, until she would disappear in the ‘woods’. There she would be helped into the special suit of the IUD, which would be ready just in time. He also arranged a dance teacher to stay in Whitley Bay for 2 weeks, to teach her the dances and how to move graciously. The day before the final night, she would go to a spa, a few miles away and be prepared for that night.
She will spend the night there and a car will pick her up an hour before his arrival. She will be dressed at the spa, and a hairdresser and make up artist will be present to make her look as attractive as possible. When she looked at herself wearing the dress, she felt light, a nymph in a fairytale forest, waiting for a prince to enchant him and make him hers. Again she giggles as she feels the stare of Klaus on her face. A blush creeps up and colours her cheeks and she quickly turns and leaves the booth. Slowly she walks down the stairs, careful not to fall or to damage anything. Klaus follows her down and takes her glasses back from her.
“Let me know when the crseens are up and running Klaus, I’d like to start the first streams as soon as possible. I have a few things to check and can only do that with the screens up and someone in the room”
“Ofcourse Ella, I think we will be done about 4-5 hours. I’ll let you know as soon as we have finished”
“Thanks Klaus, and I have to say, this place looks amazing. You have outdone yourself”
“Especially for you Ella”
She walks into the control room and starts checking the screen and panels, most of the settings done. Then she sits down behind her lapptop, on her trusted chair and starts to run the environment for the booth in her 3d viewer. This is what she has worked the hardest on. The effects she’s added to the scenic view, are new and have never been tested. She started developing them a few months ago, after waking up in the middle of the the night. The other dream, in which she was connected with Daniel, is now made alive in the 3d world she created. The transluscent threads now flow like water and she even managed to finish ‘the flower of the Fern’, as a special feature for the scene and the background story.
She takes the small box from the desk and opens it. The contact lenses inside bounce off the light in their arched srface, coating them with a pearly sheen. She takes them carefully from their containers and places them one by one in her eyes. She blinks and waits a few seconds, the electric impulses of her body charging the lenses while her eyes get used to them. After blinking a few times, she sees the slightly distorted view, familiar to the charging of the lensen. Within a few seconds, her view is cleared again and she presses enter on her keyboard. Immediatly she is transported into the 3d world, her view filled with the environment she created herself.
She moves forward, the nano sensors in the lenses picking the thought in her brains, making the landscape move in any directions. Though disconnected in this feature, she could also fly if she wanted. As she moves through the artificial forest, she cheks every tree and plant for imperfections, finds the pool and the soft bed of flowers and grass that she created at the right place. Though she can’t perform actions in the environment, with a touch of her fingers on her laptop and she picks the flower of the fern, checking the animated scene that follows next. She notices a slight slight flicker near the end of the scene and ends the simulation. With the touch of a finger, the lenses are shut down and the 3d world disappears immediatly, leaving her slightly disorented in the room. She leans forward and takes the lenses out, pulling on the corner of her eye and blnking. Carefully she places them back in the box and puts it back in its place. Then she leans over and start working on the code of the scene.
***
I walk back into the kitchen, letting the ritual of the summer solstice sink in. The celebration of the joining of a man and woman. The moon coated with honey, one of the clues comes to mind immediatly. There is a deeper layer to that picture as well. The more I find out, the more the depths and layers of the clues and events are shown. Deep in thoughts I press the button of the coffee machine and let my mug fill with the dark brown, liquid. I add sugar after I rolled a cigarette and light up, after a sip of coffee. Suddenly I hear a phone buzz in the study, the sounds soft, only just audible. I walk back at ease but when I step inside, I see it is the mystery phone. I slam my mug on the tabel and with my cigarette between my lips I grab the phone. But I have to pu it away as smoke gets in my eye and makes me tear. When I finally have cleared my vision, I open the texted message.
a silver bird in the sky
flying towards the burning eye
a flight along only allowed
when holding the righteous slip
a stream turns a wheel
pulp pressed into canvassed ink
where a community live in steads
along the glistening flow of molten snow
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First thoughts ...
"A silver bird in the sky, flying towards the burning eye"
Ok, I think this is an aeroplane flying towards the sun
"A flight along only allowed, when holding the righteous slip"
I think this is a private flight for persons chosen or holding the correct aeroplane ticket .
"A stream turns a wheel, pulp pressed into a canvass ink"
This sounds like a mill, with a water wheel, possibly a paper mill
" Where a community lives in steads along the glistening flow of molten snow"
Ok, I'm thinking a small town or village , that lives or has built up on an old lava flow from a volcano that is now covered in snow .. and maybe melting in the summer sun... I'm thinking Iceland here .. the country has snow and active volcanoes and is overseas above Scotland, and therefore a flight is required.
:) ... Am I on the right track Tight?
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You are getting good at this Brandy, or you are getting too understand my way of thinking.. brrrrr :)
6 out of 8 lines you interpreted correctly. The name of the place is embedded in the last two lines.. It's dead easy... ;D
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" The name of the place is embedded in the last 2 lines .... "
Where a community lives in steads
along the glistening flow of molten snow
mmmm stuck here .... need some help and brain storming folks .... help lol
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Tight... "it's dead easy..." is that a hint too? Though I don't know the connection between a graveyard and a paper mill.
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No, dead easy is not a hint, though it is in a way... Look for the simple solution... often what is right in front of you, isn't seen...
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LOL... ok, the name is hidden inside...it's literally Brandy :)
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"Where a community lives in steads" = Town or village ?
" Along the glistening flow of molton snow" = Water or river ?
mmm a town on water .... I initially thought Venice ... but couldnt find a connection to the summer solstise
Is the town we are looking for connected to solstice traditions and is on a river or water or the sea?
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the words needed for the solution are mentioned twice in this post:
"Where a community lives in steads" = Town or village ?
" Along the glistening flow of molton snow" = Water or river ?
mmm a town on water .... I initially thought Venice ... but couldnt find a connection to the summer solstise
Is the town we are looking for connected to solstice traditions and is on a river or water or the sea?
The town has no connection with solstice tradition as far as I know. Yes, it is a town and yes it is located on a river. The answer to the riddle is a specific location. One more hint: it is within the same state...
@Brandy Your efforts to delay me, have failed. I have finished the story and I am eager to post..;D The next 10 days will be spent on writing my entry for the contest...
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Damm LMAO ... You saw through me ... and I thought I was doing so well .... If only I could delay you for another 2 weeks .... you would have to disqualify yourself from the contest ..... rubbing my hands with a wicked glint in my eye .... maybe there is still time ... hehehehe ...
mmm we have counties not states mmmm guess i need to look at Google maps ... water town .... got work to do ... see ya laters ;)
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Well that didnt work .... no Water Town or anything similar I can find in NE26 where St Marys Lighthouse is .... mmm ... I need another clue or brain storming with other players :)
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Brandy, I said state.. I never said it would be in the UK...
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mmmmmmm Theres a Watertown in Jefferson county, New York. 13601 . USA :)
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hmm, that's still quite a wide area to find a plane ticket.. Can you narrow it down more?
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Watertown International Airport
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First thoughts ...
"A silver bird in the sky, flying towards the burning eye"
Ok, I think this is an aeroplane flying towards the sun
"A flight along only allowed, when holding the righteous slip"
I think this is a private flight for persons chosen or holding the correct aeroplane ticket .
"A stream turns a wheel, pulp pressed into a canvass ink"
This sounds like a mill, with a water wheel, possibly a paper mill
" Where a community lives in steads along the glistening flow of molten snow"
Ok, I'm thinking a small town or village , that lives or has built up on an old lava flow from a volcano that is now covered in snow .. and maybe melting in the summer sun... I'm thinking Iceland here .. the country has snow and active volcanoes and is overseas above Scotland, and therefore a flight is required.
:) ... Am I on the right track Tight?
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Watertown NY. Named after the many falls located on the Black River and from where the town grew drawing power from the Black River.
In 1808 The first paper mill was started there.
So is it the Paper mill in Watertown in NY... ? Unfortunately I cant find a specific address.
Keeping my fingers crossed hehehe
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Well done Brandy,
the papermill stille exists but is now part of a huge manufacturer of specialised paper and printing machines. I am happy with the answer and will post the rest of the story forthwidth. Read the story for the precise adress..
:)
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“Fuck it!!! When is this going to stop?!”
Angry I throw the phone back on the desk and kick the chair out of the way. As soon as I read the riddle, I exploded inside. The absence of my uncle, taken the possibility away to talk to him, to vent and question, has built up a frustration inside me that is now finding a way out, the message the drop that makes the bucket run over. With a frustrated grunt I walk out of the room.
Ofcourse the first part of the riddle is easy. It’s plane to the east and I have to get the ticket. The second part must be the location where to get the tickets from. ‘I thought I was there already. Didn’t my uncle say so?’. I walk upstairs, the anger filling my body, and quickly I change into my running gear. Slowly my mind settles and my mantra starts to sound in my head, an exercise I have rehearsed over and over again, redirecting the energy to flow through my muscles, to let it leave my body in a healthy way. I walk out the door and dribble to the park, warming my legs before I start at my usual pace.
I find my rhythm and concentrate on my breathing and the hypnotic effect of my moving feet, chase all thoughts away. For 45 minutes my world consists of breathing and running, diverting the anger inside me into energy, soothing my mind. When I return and hop into the shower, my mind is clear again and the lines of the riddle return in my conscious thoughts, now a challenge instead of a frustration. As I dry myself off, I repeat the first two sentences of the last part of the rhyme.
“a stream turns a wheel
pulp pressed into canvassed ink”
Ok, so this must be water that turns a wheel. Must be a water mill. Pulp turned into canvassed ink. Ink is used on paper, paper is also a canvas, so the mill must be a papermill, an old fashioned one as it still is powered with water. So the question remains, where? ‘where a community live in steads, along the glistening flow of molten snow’. A community is a group of people living together. A stead is a form of housing. So where people live together in houses. A town, a village, a city. The glistening flow of molten snow. It seems obvious that this is a river as well. Fits with the water mill. A village or town or city along a stream, brook or river. Brookcity, Brooktown, Brookvillage, Rivercity, Rivervillage. The list seems endless and I am not getting results.
Still, I feel a sense of urgency, less than a week to go and I have no clue when the plane is leaving. Could be tomorrow, could the 20th at the latest. I have to solve this riddle as soon as possible. I pick up my phone and call my assitant, cancelling all appointments for the day. Then I look back at the riddle, racking my brain on the last two sentences. Suddenly it clicks. Brooks, rivers or streams are all bodies of WATER!. Watervillage, Watertown. As I write down the last possibility, my eyes start to sprakle with delight. Quickly I open my laptop and enter the few words I have found, into the search engine. Immediatly a result is presented.
Knowlton Specialty Papers Inc
213 Factory St
13601-2748 Watertown, JEFFERSON (NY)
There is no more doubt about the answer being correct as I flick through the pages of the company. One of their specialties is producing parchment, the kind of paper the IUD has used before. The note on the first parcel was made out of parchment. Without hesitating, I grab the phone and enter the details of the adress. Within seconds, a reply arrives.
“Correct, be there this evening, 8 pm”
As soon as I get the answer, I find a route description and see it will take me over 5 hours to get there. I look at my watch, it’s still early but if I leave now, I can have dinner there and take a look around. Who knows what I will find out. I quickly get dressed, jeans a shirt and a sweater, collects my things and head out the door. With just water and some granola bars, I drive out of the city. Soon I am on Highway 81, the traffic during the early afternoon not that bad and without too much delay, I arrive at Watertown late in the afternoon. I drive past the factory first, trying to find out where I am supposed to be to pick up the ticket. The whole plant site is surrounded by barb wired gates, just a single entrance at the end of a short acess road. Noticing a few parking spots across the street, I decide to park there at the arranged time. I return to town and find a restaurant. I decide on the Apollo resturant and order lamb chops, something I only allow myself a few times a year, the addiction to them ignored, only to immerse myself in a feeding frenzy when I do.
I order two plates of chops, my hands soon glistening with fat as I rip the flesh of the bones. Cooked to perfection, the meat is tender and soft, the herbs used well to season them, the amount of salt just a touch too much. I order a bottle of retsina and wash the salty taste away with the sweet wine, the resin flavor complimenting the delicate taste of the meat. With a satisfied grin on my face, I let the last rib fall on top of the pile of bones and lean back. My face and hands slick with grease and juices, my stomach inflated, a warm, satisfied feeling circulating through my body.
I order greek coffee, extra sweet and when the coffee arrives, I let it settle for a few minutes, before sipping the black liquid from the tiny cup. Before the coffee grounds can pass through my lips, I put the cup back down and wash away the few granules of coffee with the glass of water that was traditionally offered. The warm, slouchy feeling disappears as the caffeine enters my bloodstream and a sudden knot in my stomach makes me aware of the task at hand. I look at the clock, it’s 7:15 pm. The drive will take me 15 minutes, that leaves me less than half an hour at the parking spot. I call the waitor and pay the bill, then take my time to walk back to my car.
As I arrive at the plant and park in the shadows of a large oak, I see the parking lot in front of the factory is almost empty, though there are still light on, in and around the building. The factory must be running 24 hour shifts, the little building at the turnpike is lit too and I can see a security guard inside. The soft fickering light betrays a tv, the shift must have started already. I look at the clock in my car, 15 more minutes to go. I roll a cigarette and open the window to a little crack, blowing the smoke into the darkening sky. The sun is almost touching the horizon and fills the sky with a palette of oranges and red, blending into purples and deep blues, the black of the universe lurking on the edge of the earth. As I smoke slowly and enjoy the sharp taste of the tobacco, my eyes keep scanning the area, looking for something out of order.
At 7:59 I hear a horn sound a signal, followed by another one a minute later, and a few minutes after that, a small group of people exits the factory building. They group together underneath a canape and soon I see orange points tracing lines in the sky. Breaktime and staff is smoking outside. One person seperates from the group and starts to walk in my direction. I see a head with long, dark hair, almond shaped eyes move from left to right, the shape of a woman becoming clearer and clearer as she nears the exit of the plant site. She passes the turnpike after greeting the guard, then crosses the street and walks around my car. The door opens and I see her slide into the seat next to me, a gorgeous smile curling luscious lips, her body full and curved, the work overall she’s wearing, tighly spanning her enormeous bosom.
“Mr Weaver, I have something for you” .
Under her arm, she has a folder clenched and she hands it to me with a seductive smile and I take it from her hesitantly. She stops me when I want to open it, her hand slowly sliding over mine, halting me in my movements. I feel her slide in closer, her warm breath washing over my face, her large breasts touching my arm, pressing into me as she leans in further. I turn towards her and immediatly turn away as the sulphuric vapors from her mouth drift into my nose. She leans in further, appareantly expecting something in return for the folder, but the stench from her mouth has destroyed the slightest attraction I felt for her. I place my hand in her shoulder and gently push her back into her seat.
“Thank you miss, I am grateful for the folder. But I think the transaction stops here.”
“But mr Weaver, am I not attractive to you? Is there something about me you don’t like? Wouldn’t you like to...”
She pulls the zipper of the overall down and lets her bare breasts fall out, taking them in her hands and jiggling them in front of me. She rbings one up to her mouth and licks her nipple, then does the same with the other, leaving the large areola’s glistening with her saliva. I take my eyes off as I see her smile, her face distorted with faked arousal.
“A few things, miss. Your breath and the way you present yourself to me. If this is not a necessity for my search to continue, I’d rather decline.”
An eerie laugh is emitted from her throat as she pushes her breasts back into her overall. The zipper goes up and she turns away from me, opening the door to the car.
“Don’t worry mr Weaver, having me is not part of the deal. But from what I heard about you, I am missing out. Enjoy your Final Night, and give my regards to Ella.”
Without waiting for a reply, she gets out, slams the door shut and walks back to the turnpike, swaying her hips in such an exagerated fashion, it makes me laugh. Then it hits me, she said Ella.. ‘Ella.. Is that the name of the girl in zebra socks? The girl chosen for the final night is called Chloe.. It must be.. Ella.. What a beautiful name.. It fits her eyes..’. With a smile on my face I open the folder, finding a ticket and a document, the print on the cover hinting towards the theme of the final night. It will have to wait until I am home. I start the car and drive off, a glance at the clock tells me it is 8:10 pm, it’ll be the dead of night before I am home.
***
-
“Ella, are you ready to go?”
A soft knock on the door, followed by the urgent voice of her boss, shakes her up and quickly she gathers the last things before she leaves her hotelroom. She’s spend the last night there and she packed all her things. A least sweep through her room and she is ready to leave. Her heart beats fast and butterflies are flying around in her stomach, the excitement increased to new levels as the final night is almost there. She’s prepared for it, knows the schedule for the night by heart, practiced her songs and dances and finished programming the booth.
Everything is in place and set up for the final night, the culmination of their efforts and she can’t shake the feeling this will be a night she will never forget. It will be either a huge succes, or the biggest disaster ever. As she closes the door to her room for the last time, her suitcase is taken from her hand by her boss. He takes it downstairs and hands it to the driver that will take them to the Spa. Mr Liska has been with her for the past two days, checking the last details with her and overseeing the tech that will operate the booth that night. His presence added both extra pressure, on top of the layers she installed herself, and created peace and focus on the site. That allowed them to finish ahead of schedule.
Klaus and his crew had left a day early, eager to return to their families. That night she didn’t sleep much, as Klaus said goodbye to the landlady in quite a loud fashion that lasted throughout the night. Qith bags under his eyes, but wth an enormeous smile on his face, he hugged her tightly when he said goodbye to her.
“Have fun Ella, we have done our best to make this as nice as possible for you.”
With a tear in her eye she said goodbye to him, knowing he put his heart into his work, more as usual. The result was there. The site looks amazing, definitly a new standard for the IUD. With proud eyes she turns her face towards the lighthouse as she drives off towards the Spa, her boss with his hands on his back remaining behind. The squared form is silhouetted by the setting sun, setting it ablaze in red and oranges, a promise for the following night. She leans back and looks out the window as the driver takes her to a spa, 30 miles away, but without really noticing anything, the landscape flashing by her in smudges and stripes.
She’s welcomed by the manager of the spa, a middle aged woman that looks late twenties. Though a bit overtanned to her taste, the woman is a walking billboard for the beauty spa, in perfect shape, the subtle make up pronouncing her best features. She follows the woman inside the
building and is brought to her room. A robe is waiting on her bed and she is asked to change and go to the massaging rooms for a relaxing body
massge, before she goes to sleep. As she opens the cupboard to put her suitcase away, she finds the dress for the next night, wrapped in a plastic cover. The shoes are underneath and on a planchet next to it, she finds the box with the jewelry she will wear. Mr Liska arranged everything perfectly and she lets go of her need for control. It is out of her hands, all she has to do now is focus on her role and on her partner.
Every free moment in her mind, she has felt him near her. As if the threads of energy she casted at him in her dream, has made a real connection. When she closes her eyes, she can almost feel his heart beating, his lungs breathing, his eyes interlocking with hers. A few times she woke up in the middle of the night, her body drenched with sweat, the sheets beneath her moist with her arousal. The images of his arms around her, bodies intertwined with eachother, lustful, passionate love making. She was able to fight the urge to give in to her arousal, but caved in once, pelasuring herself to a shattering orgasm as she closed her eyes and immersed herself in the images of her dream. Since that night, the sexual energy has been building inside her body, up to a point where the touch of her bra, makes her sensitive nipples ache, the brush of the wind over her hair, making her blush.
She undresses, putting her clothes neatlky folded in the cupboard, and slips into the robe. She leaves the room, making sure it is locked tighly, before she walks through the corridor, towards the spa itself. She follows the signs and ends up at a small counter, the wall behind it lined with towels, oils and lotions. To the left she sees a few doors and she sees a table set up in a warm, cosey room through a door that is left open. Before her impatience hits her, a tall man exits the room witht he open door and walks up to her with a big smile. He extends his hand, the length and strength of his fingers striking, shaking hers with care. His grip firm but not crushing, subtly tugging her closer to the counter.
“miss uhm Souhait?”
“Yes, that is me. I was told to come here for a massage”
“But ofcourse, this is the massage area. It would be strange if you came her for a scrub?”
He giggles, his joke only amusing him but looks back at her with a serious look on his face. He reaches behind him and picks up a few fresh towels, then steps towards the empty room, inviting her with a graceful sweep of his arm.
“My name is Timothy, Tim for close friends. So please call me Tim. If you’d like to follow me and be so kind to undress behind the screen and put this towel around your torso?”
She nods quietly, takes the towel and disappears behind the screen. She leaves the robe on the clothing peg behind her and wraps the towel aorund herself. As she returns, Tim is fiddling with the sound system, the room filling with the soft sounds of rippling water, mixed in with the hypnotic sounds of Sufi music. Following his silent directions, she lays down on the table and leans her head against the opening in the base of the table. The soft ring pressed against her forehead and cheeks support her head as she allows her body to relax. In her mind she starts a routine, adressing all muscles in her head, telling them to relax and untense, moving from her scalp to her toes. Her body becomes soft as Tim starts to peel the towel away, leaving just her buttocks covered.
He rubs his hands vigorously, warming them before he pours a drizzle of oil on his palms. He places his hands on her shoulders and carefully starts to rub the oil into her skin, his sweeps and rubs along her muscles soothing them, the ligaments fluttering as the pressure on them is released. Her breath comes slower and deeper as she submits herself to the soft music and the warm hands massaging her back. Despite the relaxing nature of the expert massage, as his hands slide lower, the towel pulled down further down her buttocks, she feels tingles arise in her core, her excitement testing the strength of the lock that keeps in caged. Embarrassed by the sensation, she clenches her buttocks, trying to burry the feeling underneath layers of tention.
“No resistance miss Souhait?”
The tightening of her buttocks is rewarded with a slap on her butt, hard enough to feel a slight sting, but not enough to leave a mark on her skin. She turns startled, then sees the stern look on Tim’s face. His hands are resting in the hollow of her back, his groin is pressing against her hip as he stands next to her. As she tries to resist the look in his eyes and the feeling in her core, he starts to move his hands again, sensual, slow, caressing, brushing, petting, feeding the tingles in her core.
“I am not sure what you are thinking Tim, but don’t take this further”
Immediatly his hands stop moving and he steps away from the table and kneels in front of her, his face only inches away from hers. He locks his eyes in hers, demanding her attention.
“Miss Souhait, you are not the first woman that feels tingles inside her core. I ensure you, the massage is aimed to envoke that feeling. I ask you to let those feelings flow free through your body and mind. My task is to prepare you for a special night tomorrow and I can only accomplish that, if you are willing to release all restraints.”
His hands start moving as he resumes his postition next to her, following the curves of her body, touching and exploring her skin, the muscles of her back, the straight line of her spine. Each touch makes it more difficult for her to keep her need inside its locked cage. Each brush of his fingers brittle the lock, but still she is not ready to submit to her need. The sense of betrayal flares up and she starts to turn on the table, ready to leave the room. But then Tim moves his hands to her shoulders and neck, leans in and whispers.
“If it would make you feel more relaxed, even if I wanted, I could not answer your need. I am gay”
With a whimper she retreats her defenses as he touches that particular spot at her neck. Shivers run down her spine as her desire inflames inside her, setting her core on fire. She falls back to the table and lays still, submitting to the strong, gentle hands of Tim, letting her desire fill her whole body, brought to the brink of explosion when he reaches her toes, every inch of her skin tingling with the soft caresses of his fingers. Her breath has quickened and she pants as he turns her around on the table, her chest heaving, pushing her breasts up in the air. Her nipples hardened to pebbles, engorged and pronounced crowning her full mounts. Her inner thighs are slick and fragrant with the flow of juices that trickled from her sex, as the massage brought her close to climax. As she turns and opens her eyes, she sees the smile on Tim’s face, expressing his contentness about her submission.
He continues his massage in reversed order, starting at her feet, slowly working his way upwards, rubbing the fragrant oil into ever pore of her skin, he carefully evades her sensitive core as he massges her thighs and pelvis and only brushes his hands over her nipples and breasts as he moves to her face. Her body is on fire, balancing on the edge of bliss, the slightest breeze would tip her over. As his fingers move to her temples and rub in slow circles outwards, she slips her hand between her legs, touches her core, finds her climax and explodes.
Tim steps back as she starts to shake and tremble on the table, her outcry of pleasure muffled in her hand as she bites on the ball of her thumb, an automated gesture, allowing her to endure the waves of orgasmic pleasure, washing through her body. With her body flushed, her skin pink with the massage and the sense of satisfaction, she falls back to the table, her back arched, her hips tilted in the spasm of her orgasm. She opens her eyes and looks embarrassed at Tim, who has stepped away from the table, allowing her to climax without ghis interference. He smiles, steps back to the table and places his hand over her eyes. As she closes them, he resumes his facial massage as if nothing had happened. Her body starts to relax, leaving her limp and without strength on the table. Fatigue starts to overwhelm her as the gentle fingers of Tim finish the massage, bringing her to a deep state of relaxation.
A touch on her hand brings her back to the present, the intenseness of the moment draining her of energy, her eyes closed as she drifted off to sleep. Dazed she sits up and notices the wetness between her thighs. Quickly she pulls the towel aorund her body, hiding her nakedness from Tim´s view, though she feels he has no interest in her excited state. He smiles and brings her hand to his mouth, kissing it gently.
“Take your time to clean up ms Souhait. I´d advice you to go straight to bed and sleep.I hope the massage was to your satisfaction”
“I.. I.. will.. and thank.. you..”
Unable to speak without stuttering, she watches Tim leave the room. Slowly she collects her strength and slides off the table, her legs weak, her hands clenching around the edge of the table to keep her on her feet. She walks to the sink and freshens herself before putting on the soft robe. Wrapped in a blanket of warmth, she walks back to her room, slides underneath the sheets and falls asleep as soon as her head touches the pillow.
***
-
It’s midnight, a brisk breeze makes my hair wave. Tears collecting in the corners of my eyes as the cold wind blows through my clothes. I don’t have much on as directed in the document I received a few nights before. I postponed reading it until the next morning, after an deep sleep. The long way on the highways, took it’s toll and I fell asleep like a log. The next morning, with coffee and cigarettes, I opened the folder and started reading. There wasn’t much in it. The date, time and gatenumber for my flight and advice on how to dress. Also included was the ritual of fertility, named Kupala, on which I read about on the internet. I take in the order of the ritual, the fire first, then the bathing, then the search in the forests, for the girl and the flower of the fern. Is that what is waiting for me? The ritual of fertility?’. I smile, liking the idea of such a fantasy made real.
The engine of the small jetplane start to roar and a stewardess opens the door and waves me closer to the entrance. As here is noone else around. I walk up to the plane and step inside. The stewardess shows me the seat and buckles me in herself, pressing her sexy body tightly against me as she leans in. My nerves already under diresse, react and within seconds I have tight pants. She smiles as she sees my discomforted face and leaves the cabin, checking in on the pilot. I adjust myself and close my eyes, trying to calm myself, nerves high strung, ready for the plane to take off. The stewardess comes back and straps herself in across from me, her long, slender legs slightly parted, allowing me a peek on her whuite, silk panties. As I am pressed into the back of the chair, she if pushed forward, the jacket of her uniform tightening arund her perky breasts as she leans forward.
Within a few minutes the plane levels off and the stewardess unstraps herself slowly, her seductive smile curling her lips, each move calculated and aimed at stimulating my sexual desire. My body reacts to her, but my mind is fixated on one person only. Ella... Since finding out her name, it kept echoing in my head, pronouncing the sounds of each letter in lost moments, even waking up after or during the intense sexual dreams I’ve had lately, her name slipping from my throat unconsciously. Somehow I still feel the sense of connection that started when I had that dream. The dream of transluscent threads of energy capsulated me and bound me to her. Feel that trickle of her being blent in with my essence, stirring up the inner peace I had found with being on my own. But the moment I looked into her eyes, that peace was disturbed. From that moment on, it was certain we would meet again, somehow.
The stewardess moves to the pantry of the plane and returns with a plate of tit bits and a glass of champagne. She slides into the seat next to me and places the plate on her thighs, hading me the glass. She takes a small cracker with prawn salad and feeds it to me, leaning in to suck some of the cream off my lips, her chest pressing into mine. As she release, a soft moan is emitted from her throat and her eyes are sparkling. Bit by bit she feeds me the small snack, intentionally messing on my lips of chin, so she can suck my skin clean with her lips. When the plate is empty, she gets up and moves very close past me to put the plate away, returning with a second glass and toasting with me. As I drink, I feel her hand slide over my thigh towards the tightness of my pants. But with a soft gesture, I stop her hand and place it on her own thigh.
“Tess, you are a very attractive girl and I am sure that you would lead me to heights I can’t imagine right now. But I am a few hours away from meeting a very special lady. And I am bound to her”
“Ofcourse sir, I understand. I’ve been ordered to tease and seduce, give in if you wanted, to your sexual desires. But I am glad you are taking the final night this seriously. I’ll spend the rest of the flight with the pilot, if that is what you wish.”
“I don’t mind enjoying your company Tess and you are welcome to stay”
“Maybe it is better if you got some rest, sir. You will need all your energy for tonight. I will get you a blanket”
She moves to the back of the plane, as I search for the button to lean the chair back. Just as she returns and leans against the back, it suddenly reclines and she falls on top of me. Her soft, warm, voloptuous body presses into me firmly and for a second I feel my lust flare up, the promises made to myself, about to be broken. But quickly she regains her balance and stand back up, folding the blanket open and draping it over me. With a sweet, almost disappointed smile, she looks over her shoulder and disappears inside the cockpit, the light in the cabin dimming slowly. A little buzz making me light headed and quickly I drift off to sleep, only to be awakened a few hours later by the soft whispers of Tess.
“Sir, wake up. We will be landing shortly and you need to sit upright and get buckled in.”
With quick, experienced moves she helps me up in my chair and again buckles me personally, her hands now sweeping over over my crotcg\h, my erection still there as again I was immersed in a passionate sexual dream with Ella. She blushes, looking longingly at me, then raises herself and sits in the chair across from me. Again she straps herself in but keeps her legs closed this time, looking outside the window to estimate our height and speed of descent. Her eyes squint a little just before the wheels hit the tarmac and the plane starts shaking as it rolls down the runway and finds a private gate at the back of Edinburgh Airport. In front of the small building is a limosine parked and a driver stands, formally dressed, at the opened door. The plane comes to a stop and I unbuckle myself while Tess opens the door and lowers the small stpes down. As I pass, she holds me back with her hand and places a soft kiss on my cheek, whispering a few words in my ear.
“Have fun mr Weaver, she’s a lucky girl”
“Thank you Tess, I hope so”
I step out of the plane, the sun burning brightly at the sky, just passed its highest point and already sinking towards the horizon. I look at my watch, 7:15 am. ‘I have to add 6 hours..’. That makes it quarter past one. I quickly towards the limosiine where the driver is still waiting patiently, silent as I enter the car and sit down. Still a bit drousy from my long nap, I shrug my shoulders and rub my eyes. As I look at the middle console, I see a paper cup with plastic lid, the car smelling suspiciously of coffee. The tinted window seperating the back from the front of the car slides down, and the drivers turns his head back.
“Compliments of mr Liska, mr Weaver. He suggested I´d have coffee for you ready. There is extra sugar underneath the cup. The trip will take about 3 hours, so sit back and enjoy the ride.”
I smile, take the cup in my hand and add plenty of sugar. It’s a huge cup and after stirring and tasting, I add more to bring it to the right level of sweetness. While adding sugar, I didn’t notice the car starting to move, but as I cast a look outside, I see the airport disappearing behind us. Soon we mix in with the speeding traffic on the highway and through the tinted windows I notice the attraction the black limo gets. At first conscious, worried of being seen, but after pulling some funny faces to passing cars, I feel safe enough to just sit back and relax, enjoying the view of never ending pastures and wheat fields, alternating with woods and forest on undulating hills. The smooth ride of the car allows my nerves to settle a little and before I know it, we pull up into a driveway, leading to a spa. I flip a small mirror down in the car and look at myself. A smirk, then flipping the mirror back. I could have used a few minutes on my appearnace before going here. But the schedule showed a visit to the spa, so I gambled and I will know now if I have won.
A gorgeous, middle aged woman waits at the entrance of the spa, her figure of a late twenties girl, though the small wrinkles around her eyes betray her being older. With a big, pearly white smile she welcomes me and grabs both my hands, letting me hold hers. Then she turns and takes me inside, walking me through a few corridors to my room. As I let my eyes drift through the rooms of the spa, I see a woman slip out of the sauna area from the corner of my eye. I halt, look again but she has disappeared. A tingle in my spine, the feeling I know her.
But I am taken by my hand again and brought to my room at double speed. As the manager shows me the room quickly, I am informed of the schedule for the next 4 hours. Facial, manicure, pedicure, sauna and a massage, before my hair is cut, I am shaved and bathed,. Then I will be dressed. She opens the door to the cupboard and I see a white, linnen raiment. I giggle, but then push the nerveousness away. Intend on following the script of the fertility ritual, I prepare myself for the evening. I am left alone with the instructions to put on the robe and report to the sauna. Obedient I undress myself and slip into the robe, leaving the room and moving towards the sauna room, my heart beating, having seen that familiar figure.
***
-
The day has gone so quickly, before she realises it, she is taking a cold shower after the hot sauna and feels every nerve end in her body come alive, her skin tingling intolerably for a few seconds, before it starts to warm and glow. When she has dried herself off and slipped back in to her robe, an assistant enters the sauna room and with a certain urgency, she is whisked out of the sauna and led into the hairdresser’s lounge. Her dress is waiting for her, as well as her lingerie, laid out over a sofa.
Besides the hairdresser and the beautician, 2 girls are present to help her get dressed. Directed to the chair, she releases all control tendencies and hands herself over to the hairdresser and beautician. The atmosphere is nice, laughing and jokes, the 4 girls knowing eachother intimately, dragging her along in their playful chatter, the subjects on the threshold of being naughty talk. Her mind is distracted from the evening for a little while, as they braid her hair and drape it around her head, forming a crown of blonde strands. Spring flowers are woven into her hair, and subtle make up is put on her face, keeping her appearance frsh, young, almost angelic. Her finger and toe nails manicured and painted in a soft, pinkish gloss, then she is helped into her lingerie.
She blushes as she feels the hands of the women around her slide over her body, her breasts gently held as she slips her hands through the straps of her bra, the soft tickle on the inside of her thighs as her panties are slipped on. She keeps still, her nailpolish still drying as well as commanded not to lift a finger. She is carefully helped into her dress, the ties and knots closed for her. Though putting the dress on is complicated, taking it off will only require her to pull on one strap, which will release all others, letting the dress slip fgrom her body and collect around her feet. She blushes as she looks at herself in the mirror, the last details dilligently perfected by the women in the room. Satisfied faces reflect in the mirror, as she turns on her toes, the dress swirling out widely, forming a whirling circle of fabric around her. The women applaud as she takes a few dancing steps, wanting to feel the dress on her as she moves. It is light as a feather and allows her body to remove freely,, although the bodice of the dress hugs her slides and bosom quite tightly.
“Ladies, excuse me. It is time for miss Souhait to leave for Whitley Bay in 5 minutes”
The knock on the door is followed by the deep voice of a man. Having had her eye on the clock for the past 30 minutes, she expected some kind of warning, but as it is announced, her heart starts pounding in her chest and her stomach squeezes into a tight knot. Her face flushes as the women gather around her, taking her in a circle and hugging her at the same time. Her voice stolen from her with the moment, she is released and with a tear in her eye, she walks towards the door. In a way she feels as a bride, taken away to wait for her grrom, the man of her dreams. Dressed that way, a ritual of fertility, courtship planned for the night, Suddenly she’s overwhelmed with a girlish gidishness that makes her giggle as she is escorted to a limousine. As she gets in, she smells the scent of coffee and the hint of a manly odor. But it is so faint, as soon as she concentrates on the smell, the scent is masked by her own perfume as it fills the cabin of the car.
Almost silently the engine is started and smoothly the car leaves the spa and leaves for the lighthouse. The distance is quickly covered and 45 minutes later they pull up to the gate at the end of the causeway. An assistant is waiting to help her out of the car and make sure she doesn’t tumble over into the sea. The causeway is still wet and she’s off balance for a second, before she clamps on to a strong arm. Carefully she’s guided inside as the limo backs up, returning to the spa for his next fare. She follows the path towards the small courtyard in fron of the lgithouse and finds a huge fire burning, still under constant care of the operational crew. As soon as the Target arrives, they will disapear, only to aid with putting on the suits for the booth. As she approaches the alter entrance to the tower, her boss exits the building and quickly walks towards her, both his hands extended. As he reaches her, he kisses both her hands, then takes a step back to look at her.
“Ella, you look enchanting. Your inner beauty is giving your outer beauty an extra glow”
“Thank you sir, you are too kind”
Blushing she accepts his compliments, feeling strangely secure about her appearance, the dress and make up, the pampering. All the effort she put in herself to make this the perfect night make her confident, proud, a sense of control flows back into her after having it left behind at the spa. This is her night, she has prepared for it and is prepared for it. As strength and pride fill her veins, her body straigtens and an inner glow shines through her skin, radiating outwards, transluscent threads of energy reaching out along the fading sky. Graciously she walks towards the fire and sits down on the log that is put in front of it. She folds her hands in her lap and starts to humm the welcoming song, memorised, mebedded in her heart as it enchants her each time she sings it.
***
-
Finally the disks of cucumber are take off my face and my body is liberated from the tighlty wrapped towels. After going through a quick beauty treatment and the sauna, I was wrapped in warm towels, my eyes covered and my ears filled soothing, calming Sufi music. Though I tried to relax during those 30 minutes, I also noticed the clock on my way to the sauna, knowing the time is nearing. That made it more difficult to immerse myself in the tight wrap and soft music and the disks of cucumber kept sliding around on my eyes as I kept blinking. As I get up and slide into the opened robe, not noticing the blush on the girl’s face as se holds it open for me, I rub my eyes, taking care of the itch and tickles the cucumber evoked. The girl takes my arm and gently but with a sense of urgency, pushes me out the window and to my own room.
My hair cut, my face and lower body shaved smooth, scented and powdered I step through the door of my room, finding another girl that already has gotten my raiment in her hands. Without a word spoken, I take off the robe and slip into a pair of white briefs, decorated with embroided vines and creepers. I slip my arms into the raiment and the girls close the robe around my waist with a wide belt with silver buckle, decorated with a rose. The centerpiece of my outfit. The soft linnen fits my body perfectly and I can move freely, the soft fabric keeping my body heat close to my body. Leather straps are bound aruond my wrists, a leather chord with an agate, set in a golden hanger is tied around my neck, a vine wreath is set on my head, crowning my hair. A mirror is brough to me and I am astounded with what I see. A smile curls my lips as the raiment seems to suit me perfectly. Then a knock on the door.
“Mr Weaver, it is time to go”
I look around at the girls, that are staring at me with amazement, almost shyly. I get a bit embarrassed and quickly ask them if anything else is needed for my appareance. # shaking heads answer me and with a deep bow I honor their work. With a graceful gesture of my hand, I leave the room and follow the assistant to the front of the spa, where the limousine is already waiting. As I slide in, I catch a sweet scent, lilacs, roses and honeysuckle. She’s been in this car. I close my eyes as I draw a deep breath, trying to focus on her scent. But it is faint and it soon mixes in with my own fragranted skin. The glass between the driver and the cabin in the bnack slides down and the driver turns his head.
“Ready mr Weaver? It’s a short drive, we’ll be there soon. Keep your eyes in the direction of the sea”
I nod and the car slowly drives off. Smooth and silent it whizzes through the countryside, the trees and fields moving past in a blur. I keep my eyes looking at the east, scouring the horison. Finally I notice a high shape in the air, still a few miles away. But where I expected to see the rounded tower of the lightouse, my eyes can only make out a squared pillar. The closer we get, the more details I see and I notice scaffolding around the tower, covered with black plastic, concealing the tower underneath. The small island on which the lighthouse is built, is also fenced with black plastic walls, high enough to prevent peeping toms, but low enough to keep most of the evening sky free of obstruction. The road now runs along the shore and I see the islanf getting closer and closer, the glistening of the wet causeway as the setting suns casts its diminishing light. The car turns onto the causeway, just a few inches between the wheel and the edge of the access road, then it halts at the gate. The window slides down again and the driver smiles.
“We have arrived mr Weaver. Enjoy your evening.”
The door of the car pops open and the window slides up. Collecting my thoughts and myself, I sit idle on the seat of the car, then shrug my shoulders and step out. The gate ajar, from an unseen place soft sounds are mixing in with the sound of the waves, washing up against the rocky shore. Slowly I start to walk in, my head turning from left to right. As soon as I pass the gate, it shuts on its own but I ignore it happening. The soft tones change and turn into the melodic voice of a woman, the words cascading, collapsing into a whisper of promises. I take a few steps, the melody becoming louder and clearer, the wheatfield around me starting to wave in the breeze that kicks in as soon as I step onto the path. Step by step I get closer, the words now formed but incomprehensible to me, a language of old that I have never heard before.
Orange shadows and bursts of light bounce off the borders of the island, flames licking at the sky as I step onto the small courtyard, a fire roaring at the centre, a few trunks placed in front. And on one of them a white figure, the heat of the fire distorting her face and frame. As I step into the light of the fire, the sky now filled with reds, purples and deep blues, she raises her head from a sunken position, brown eyes meeting mine. As if I am being pulled forward by a rope around my waist, my eyes rush forward and my gaze is sucked into the mirrors of her soul. As our eyes connect, a deep sense of tranquility washes through me, a sense of coming home.
***
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Her legs crossed underneath her body, her hands folded in her lap. Her head is leaning forward as she hums the melody of the welcoming song to herself, her eyes closed. She hears the car arrive at the gate, the soft slam of the door penetrating her trance, and slowly she reconnects with the presence. As she started humming to herself, her body relaxed and all thoughts disappeared from her mind. The melody and rhythm resonating through her body, her heart beating in sync, her breathing slow and deep. Slowly she starts to form the words with her lips, increasing the volume of her voice until she’s got it just right. Slowly her head starts to tilt and as she feels his presence enter the courtyard, she opens her eyes and finds them immediatly fixed in with his. Pulled at her waist, she feels herself accelerate and rush towards him, the clash when her soul meets, his resonating in her core. She raises herself from her sitting position and moves a few steps away from the fire. She turns to him, then takes a deep bow, holding the skirt of her dress in her hands. When she raises, she feels his burning gaze on her and slowly she envelopes herself with the ritual.
Her hands move out to the side as she takes the first steps of her dance. In an intricate pattern of pirouttes, gracious steps, seductive glances and smiles, she moves closer and closer to him, her dance guided by her sweet voice. As she reaches him, she starts to dance around him, teasing, playing, the song changing into a call of desire forged into celtic words. The pace of her dance changes with the rhythm of the song, her dress now whirling around her body as she twirls around him. Her hands brush over his chest and arms, she pushes herself against him, only to slip away before he can move his hands to touch her. The smile on his face is evident of his enjoyment and he becomes more and more active, making it more difficult for her to stay out of his grasp. She starts to dance away towards the fire, only to return again and offer herself seductively. But before he can take her in his arms, his hands sliding over her hips and sides, she moves away graciously, tempting him to follow her.
Step by step they come closer to the fire and as the crackling of the logs adds another layer to her song, she lets herself get caught, stepping in slowly as she lets the song die down. Her hands slide up his chest and around his neck as she gives herself to him. She looks up, to find him looking down and again their eyes meet and interlock. She feels his arms slide around her body, pulling her tighter, coccooning her as he presses her against his chest. Not a word is spoken in their embrace, but thoughts and feeling are exchanged through those interlocked portals to the soul. Through the linnen fabric around his body, she can feel the beat of his heart, fast, pounding, almost matching the speed of her own. His presence is strong, steadfast, a rock that she can cling to in the malstrom of events. She closes her eyes, turns her head and lays her cheek against his chest, listening to his beating heart, feeling his chest move with each breath. Time seems to stand still as she feels him lean in, his nose pushed in her hair, the deep breath he takes, before he kisses her head softly. For a moment she lets herself drift on this intense moment of intimacy and comfort before she feels the tug of her imprinted program.
Slowly she releases her grip around his neck, her hands sliding down his sides, pushing herself away from him. She takes his hand and guides him to one of the logs, then pulls, to sit him down. With his eyes burning in her back, she turns and moves to a table that is set to the side, to return with a tray filled with wine, mede and fruits. She sets it down and takes her place on the log next to his. She smiles as she offers him wine, feeling his warm fingers slide over hers as he takes the clay cup from her hand. His eyes glistening as he watches her every move, sitting still and patient, his anticipation shown through his eager look. They drink, arms intertwining, forming a ring in a ring as they drink. She smiles softly, the gesture happening by accident but the impact resonating in her core. She takes his cup of wine from his hands and lifts the plate with fruits.
She picks a strawberry from the plate and brings it slowly to his mouth. She watches as if she is in a trance, how his teeth sink into the red fruit, then his lips folding around the fruit, touching her fingertips as he takes a second bite. She feels his tongue slide around her fingers before she takes her hand back. Before she can pick up another piece of fruit, his hand moves up to her mouth and the sweet scent of honeymelon drifts into her nose. She feels the juicy fruit touch her lips and slowly she opens her mouth, the fruit is slipped into her mouth, a trickle of juicy runs down her chin, caught and collected by his fingers. He smiles as he slowly licks the juice of his fingers, before he opens his mouth for the next piece of fruit she offers. She feeds him and he feeds her, back and forth, until the plate is empty. Her mouth is filled with the sweet tastes and scents of the fruits and her lips are aching to kiss him. But not yet. She burries her desire as she lifts herself to her feet. She turns on her heels, once, then looks at him as her hand searches for the strap that keeps her dress around her body.
With a shy smile on her face, she finds the strap and slowly starts to pull, the dress falling off her shoulders, the bodice split, her torso slowly exposed, then a last pull and her dress collects in a pile around her feet. Gracefully she steps out of the pile of fabric and walks back up to him, until she is barely two feet away. In silk panties and laced bra, her skin pinkish with the desire pumping through her veins, she slowly turns in front of him, showing him her body. Her hands reach behind her back and she unhooks her bra, the straps gliding off her shoulders, her hands holding the cups around her full mounds. She turns when she drops the bra to the floor, showing her back, her slender waist, the ripple of muscles in her shoulders as she straightens herself. Her hands slide to her hips, fingers hooking in her panties and slowly she slides them over her hips, the string between her buttocks slowly pulled from the crevase. She leans forward, her buttocks pushed backwards as she pushes her panties over her knees, then straigtens herself as her panties slide the down her calves. She turns, looks over her shoulder and winks, signalling him to follow her as she steps out of the panties and slowly walks towards the stone staircase built into the sea..
Waiting at the first step, she slides her hands down his chest to his middel as he steps into her open, welcoming arms. Her fingers follow the belt around his waist, finding the buckle and slowly unclamping it. The broad leather belt slips from her hands, then she opens the raiment and pushes the shoulders off his body. His briefs are already showing signs of his sexual arousal his member semi-hard and twitching as she takes the fabric between her fingers and slowly pulls it down his hips. His hands are behind his back, his legs slightly spread and she hears a soft whimper as she kneels in front of him and slides the briefs off his ankles, leaving him naked in front of her. She stands back up, smiles a delightful smile and takes his hand in hers, slowly descending down the stairs, a slight shiver as her feet touch the cold water. The further they descend down the stairs, the more the water envelopes them, and after the initial shock of the cold, her body quickly gets used to it. The naturally formed pool at the foot of the lighthouse has been warmed by the sunlight and is warmer as the little waves of seawater that enter the pool.
She gently guides him to the centre of the pool, where the water is just above her shoulders, his chest only partially wet. She moves to him back and forth, his hands on her hips just touching as she pulls herself into him, only to push herself away as soon as she touches his body. Their eyes continously gazing into eachother, a slight smile curling his lips, Still no word has been spoken though their eyes tell the story that is there. She moves to his back, cups her hands and lets water run over his houlders and back, her hands following the muscles in his shoulders to his neck, down along his spine until she touches his buttocks. She pushes herself into him, embraces him from behind, her body pressed tight into his back. She kisses him at the nape of his neck, just a brush of her lips, her first taste of him. Then he releases himself from her tight embrace and turns in her arms. His hands slide to her hips and he lifts her up as he pulls her to him. Automated she opens her legs and slides them around his hips, her arms sliding around his neck as he squeezes her tight against his body.
Beneath the waterline, his erection has grown and she feels the full length of his member pressing against her sex, a whimper drawn as she feels him move between her thighs. She looks up to him, her lips wet, half opened, inviting him for a kiss. He answers her silent call and slowly leans in, his warm breath washing over her face as he brings his mouth closer and closer to hers. As their lips finally touch, her body ignites in a sea of flames, the touch of his full, warm lips making the last walls of her inhibtions crumble and fade away. She melts into him as their lips start to move against eachother, the soft brushing of mouths slowly turning into full contact, then lips half opened and the tips of tongues meeting in limbo. Her arms tighten their grip around his neck, her thighs squeeze as she raises herself up against his body and pushes her mouth hard against his. His lips open and as soon as the tip of her tongue slips inside, she feels the tight clench of his mouth as he sucks her tongue slowly in. As she moves up, her sex drags along the length of his shaft and an endless flow of shivers cascades down her spine. Her core is heating up and the first droplets of her nectar start to coat her lips, washed away by the salty seawater. He notices her desire, the warmth radiating from her core and driven by instinct, his hips slowly start to move, tilting and stretching, moving his member gently over her sex.
She gasps for air as he releases her tongue and allows her to breath, the intimate kiss lasting an eternity, leaving her breathless in the intensity of their connection. Her body starts to move with his, the pressure against her sex increasing, the veins on his shaft rippling over her sensitive entrance, her lips pushed open little by little in the soft sway of their bodies. Her desire inside her body burning fiercely, pumping adrenaline and lust into her veins, her mind almost blanketted with her need for him. But the embedded schedule of the final night prohibits her to answer to the call of her body. She breaks the kiss, the coolness of the water immediatly hitting her as she releases her body from his warm embrace. Unnoticed, the sun has sunk towards the horizon, just a fraction of the golden disc still casting warm orange rays on their faces. She looks warm and loving at her man as she lets him out of her embrace and moves back to the stairs. Each step calculated, she emerges from the sea, the droplets of water cascading down her body are caught by the setting sun, setting her body on fire in oranges and reds. She looks down at the water, at the man that is looking up to her and waiting for a signal to follow. With just a soft smile, she turns and slowly starts to walk towards the entrance to the lighthouse.
***
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As if I am dreaming, I see the slender figure of Ella rise from the water as she climbs up the stairs. Her warm, brown eyes casting a loving look, before she starts to stride towards the entrance of what used to be the lighthouse. I feel frozen, captured in the moment as my mind struggles to wrap around the intensity of meeting her. The way she danced around me, teasing, playful, seductive all at once, her sweet voice singing those ancient words, the sound making me almost melancholic, but also immersing me into the moment. The look in her eyes, when our eyes first met, the deep connection between us confirmed as I locked in with hers and forgot everything around me. The gestures of feeding and be fed automated, as I got lost in her her eyes and in her presence. Scenting the sweet smell I sensed in the car, seeing the soft glow of her skin, her soft lips slighty wet, stirs my desire and quickens my breath.
My heart skipped a beat as I watched her undress, the way the dress fell off her body and collected around her ankles, the gracious way with how she stepped to the side and exposed the rest of her body. Effortless, as if all movements were practiced until they were embedded in the graceful, natural flow of her body. Trembling as she pulled me to my feet and started to undress me, embarrassed at first, but soon taken by her aura of selfconfidence, the calculated movements of her body, the soft expression in her face. The cold water effected my erection, thankful for that moment, though short-lived. As soon as she wrapped her legs around me and rubbed her sex over my member, the cold was forgotten and my desire became appareant between her soft thighs.
But now she’s walking away and a sense of loss, emptiness fills me. A crazy feeling, I have spent just an hour in the presence of this woman, Ella, and yet I feel as if my closest one has been torn away. In an attempt to cool my overheating brain, I push myself under and let the cool seawater wash over my head. Slowly I come up again, a line from the document slipping back into my memory, the ritual becoming clearer to me again. This is the moment the young girls would seperate from the young men and disappear in the woods, to be found and wooed by their lovers. A smile curls my lips and I take the time to close my eyes and drift naked in the water. The gentle sway of the waves in this protected pool, moves my body up and down, my breathing synchronising, the inner peace returning to submit to the events.
About 5 minutes after she has disappeared into the entrance of the hollow tree, I climb out of the sea and let most of the water drip down my body before I walk across the stepping stones towards the entrance. Slowly I walk inside, expecting her to be there, waiting for me, maybe on a bed. Instead I am met by 3 girls, two holding towels, one standing next to a small table with a familiar looking suit and a small, stainless steel box. Before I can out my surprise, the two girls start rubbing my body dry with warm towels, paying attention to every inch of my body. I gasp for air as I feel a gentle hand grab my shaft with the towel, the girl using two hands to dry me carefully, my scrotum lifted and my balls held very gently, just to take the moisture off the skin. As the girls move away and the towels disappear, the third girl approaches with the suit in her hands. One of the towel girls assists her as she kneels down and places my right foot on her thigh. She opens the leg of the suit and I lift my leg to push my foot all the way inside. Quick hands pull the suit up my leg, then my other leg slides in. The suit is skin tight, yet takes no effort to put on, even with my slightly moist skin.
The inside is soft, slick and it feels as if it connects to my pores and the verves laying just beneath the skin. As I feel fingers slide over my covered skin, it is as if the sensation is intensified and a shiver runs down my spine, my body reacting strongly. The girls remain serious and dilligent in their task, even when my member twitches and the head hits my stomach, leaving a wet mark of precum behind on my stomach. The suit is folded carefully around my shaft, wrapping it from the head to the base, the concept of full sexual arousal for the measuring now making sense. My arms slip into the suit and a zipper is closed at the back, wrapping my whole body in the slick, soft fabric. The girl that stayed at the table now comes closer, the small stainless steel box in her hand. She opens the lid and two small compartments become visible, a shiny lens placed in both. Without a word she picks one up with a small suctio cup and places her hand on my cheekbone, her fingers opening my eyes slighty. She places the lens on my cornea and immediatly the feeling makes me blink. But as my eyelashes meet, the lens feels gone, the wafer-thin membrane unnoticed by my eye. As soon as I open my eye, my sight is blurred and before I know it, the second lense is placed in my other eye. The sight of my right eye suddenly becomes clear again and in awe I look around.
The whole environment is coated in a sheen of brilliance, every contour, curve and angle crystal clear, the depth and color of the interior is crisp and almost makes me dizzy. As I look around, the girls silently disappear, leaving me alone at the bottom of the lighthouse. As I look up, the opening at the top of the wooden staircase seems extra clear, as if a halo is surrounding it, drawing me closer. Ignoring the fact the girls have left, I start to walk up the stairs, my head filling with the soft sounds of a nightly forest, the smell of rotting leaves, funghi, fresh grass and pine trees fills the whole room and I feel inside a real hollow tree, the trunk making a sequoai look like a matchstick. The closer I get to the exit of the hollow tree, the sounds of crickets and owls heard through the opening, the harder my heart starts to beat in my chest. My thoughts directed at one goal only, finding her in the woods before the night is over and make her my woman.
The feel of the suit has disappeared as I reach the top of the stairs, I am stepping into a forest on a sulty night, naked, looking for my girl. The feel of the air, the stars tingling in the sky, the smell of the woods are real and as I stretch out my hand and touch the leafs of a tree, I feel the edges, the rough surface of the leaves and the grain. I look around, a small path leads deeper into the forest and in the distance I can hear the soft murmer of a muffled giggle. I become aware of her eyes on me. She’s hidden, but close enough to look at me. Slowly I take a few steps onto the narrow path, feeling the sharp needles of pines scratch my skin and as I look down, small, white lines appear where pine needles were dragged over my skin. Again I hear a muffled giggle and I turn my head to the right. From the corner of my eyes I thought I saw a glimpse of a foot disappearing behind the trunk of a tree. I step into the trees and move the branches out of the way.
As I stop, trying to orientate myself, I hear another giggle, this time louder, closer, but coming from my left. I smile, liking the game of hide and seek and I croutch, hiding behind some bushes. I start to move backwards, find the path and take a few quick steps to enter the foliage from another direction. Slowly I start to move closer to the spot where I heard the laughter for the last time, trying to make as little noise as possible. Halting at random intervals, I stay still and hold my breath to listen. The laughter has disappeared and I hear nothing butt the rush of the breeze through the tree tops. Slowly I move forward, seeing an open spot behind some brushes, the first rays of the moon hitting a patch of grass. At the egde of the trees I halt, ducking as far down as I can and I listen. When I turn my head to my left, I hear the softest steps and suddenly she appears from the trees across the open spot, looking around with a girlish smile on her face. She walks onto the grass in slow, graceful steps and moves towards what seems to be a bed made out of leaves. Her naked body is caught in the moonlight and an aura radiates around her, giving her an angelic appearance.
She lays herself down on the bed, then turns her head and looks straight at me, her eyes warm, sparkling, inviting me. Her hand raises and her finger arches, winking me closer. I start to blush, the feeling she has known where I am, hitting me painfully. ‘This is still a game Daniel, you are manipulated from the first second to the last’. I get up and step out of the trees, slowly walking towards her as she lays back down on the soft bed of ferns. With each step our eyes lock in deeper with and I start to drown in layer after layer of her soul as she lets me dive in through her eyes. As in a dream I kneel at her feet, her legs open and I slip between them. Her hands drag along my chest, slide over my sides and up my back as I slowly lay down, resting my torso on my forearms. Her arms slide around my neck and for a moment we just look at eachother. I feel her arms tense, a gentle nudge to pull me in closer and I answer her call. I lean in, towards her half opened mouth, every inch I come closer, her eyes shut more and when my lips fuse with hers, her eyes are closed and she lets her passion flow free.
Her kisses urgent, passionate, lips sliding over eachother in the slow dance of our heads. Her tongue, wet and warm, pushing against the cleft that seperates my lips, her warm breath washed over my face through her half opened mouth. My arms slide underneath her shoulders and I lean in more, letting my chest rest on her bosom, feeling her hard nipples pierce my skin. Her legs open wider as I slide up further, the head of my member dragging over the soft skin of her thighs, the shaft pressed against her sex as I lay my weight on her, blanketting her with warmth. Her legs slide around my waist, her ankles interlocking and her arms pulling me further into her. Her passion and need is met by mine and I open my mouth to let her tongue slide in. As I meet hers with mine, they start a furious, passionate dance, curling around eachother, slipping and sliding from mouth to mouth, dipping and probing, teasing and seducing. Her body starts to move beneath me, her hips grinding against me, caught in her desire, her body moving instinctively.
The longer we kiss, connect, the more my desire is fuelled and soon I start to move my body with hers, pressing myself into her as she tilts her hips, circling between her thighs as she presses her pelvis against mine. The heat emitting from her core, blankets my lower body and sets me on fire. I cling to her shoulders, lost in the moment and the passion she draws from my being, fingers digging into her muscles. My member fully erect, the veins pulsating underneath the skin, dragging along her lips. With each circling grind against her lower body, I feel her lips open up more, the first droplets of her nectar scenting her, lubricating my shaft, intensifying the slide. I moan into her mouth, the first oral outing since I met her, one of pure need, desire, want for her. Her eyes flash open, burning and glistening, her want clear and urgent.
I feel her hips tilt further, her hips pushing upwards, the tip of my member dragging down over her sex until it gets caught between her lips. Her entrance is hot, wet, inviting and without hesitating I push myself into her, hear her whimper and let out a deep moan as I enter her tight channel. Slowly I push myself into her, my toes digging into the leafs of the bed, her back arching, her breasts pressing into my chest as she lets her head fall to the side, her eyes closed tightly. My body touches hers, presses into her, completing our fusion. I lay still, envelopped by her sheath, blanketted with her heat, held in her arms and love. I kiss her neck before I close my eyes and gentle lay my head in the hollow of her neck, wanting this moment never to end.
Transluscent threads of energy start to form around us, swirling, circling, moving in the dark, sultry night, drawing intricate patterns before weaving a webbed bubble around us. As I raise my head and she turns hers to look at me, the threads start to tighten, moving in closer around us until they almost touch our bodies. Capsulated in the bonds of love that are formed, growing thicker and stronger with every second of our fusion, her eyes are the only thing I see. Her deep brown irisses become my universe, the intricate details forming the solar systems, the borders unknown, unreachable. I release all reins, all restrictions and let myself fall into her being, immersing myself in her soul, her body, her mind. And at the moment all tentions flow from my body, I hear her soft voice close to my ear.
“I love you, Daniel”
***
He closes the laptop and the images from the booth fade away. He shuts off the desklight, the only source of light in the room and pushes his chair back. His hand slides to his chin, his fingers caressing his white goatee as a smile forms around his lips. Slowly he gets up from his chair, takes his coat from the peg near the door and walks outside. He walks across the small square in front of the lighthouse, his eyes focussed on the path through the wheatfield to the exit of the island. Without looking back he crosses the causeway and opens the door of a car that is parked across the street. He gets in, leans back and then turns his head to the driver, a large man with a big blonde beard.
“Did everything work out as planned mr Liska?”
“Yes Klaus, it took 7 years, but it looks like we will be planning for a wedding next”
“I am glad we were able to give fait a little hand. To the airport, mr Liska?”
***
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Done.
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CLAPPING FURIOUSLY ...... Tight an amazing story .. I enjoyed it immensely .. Congratulations on a story well written, intriguing and the puzzles and riddles were so cleverly thought out. I hope you are proud of this work .. I know I would be.
Big hug , big kiss. Thank you so much for entertaining me so thoroughly. Its a wonderful piece of work. MWAH xxx
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Hiya's...
Thank you Tight for a most interesting and well written story. I thoroughly enjoyed reading it and working on the riddles. I apologize that I wasn't around for helping solve the last riddles, but I loved the story.
Thanks again.
Thanks for letting me share,
Pafe