My head hurts. Not a headache but like I'd banged it on something. I'm just waking up. I look around and have no idea where I am. It's a room. A room made of cement blocks, it looks like. Painted or white washed somewhere in the past. Looks like maybe 15 feet or so by another fifteen feet. Concrete floor. I sit up. I'm naked. Completely naked. What the hell is this?
I look around. I'm sitting on a cot. Like a Boy Scout or Army cot, sort of x-shaped forms at the ends and in the middle with canvas stretched between. There are three of them. Just empty cots, no sheets or pillows or anything. There's a window. I stand up. Shit, I almost fall over. Whatever happened to my head, I'm not over it. It's a dirty window, glass, but a heavy mesh covering it on this side, fastened to the wall. I look out and can see I'm on the second floor in what looks like a very poor neighborhood.
There's a white bucket in the corner. A fairly big bucket, probably five gallons. I go over and look. It smells. I began to realize, this is the bathroom. It's been emptied but it's held piss and shit, it's still smeared with it a little. What the hell is this? There's a door. I go over to it and grab a metal door knob. Locked, won't budge. I'm locked up. Naked. What is this?
I sit down on the cot again. Why am I locked up? Where am I? Well, I'm probably in Cali, Columbia. That's where I was before this happened. When did this happen? How long have I been here? I think about it. Logic says, I got conked and brought here. I probably wouldn't be out more than a few hours. It's probably Wednesday, that's what it was last I remember.
I'm a TV camera man. Union. Work in L.A. Free lance but I work all the time, the studios just don't have to pay me medical or retirement benefits that way. This producer, Joel, a really good producer, planned to shoot a documentary in Columbia and asked me to be the camera man. He praised my work, said I was exactly who he needed. So I came here. Came from the airport to the hotel and checked in with him and Marie, sort of a gofer and maybe his pump on the side, and Walter, the sound man.
I was supposed to meet them in two hours and decided to go out and walk around a little. I speak not a word of Spanish, I couldn't go far or I'd get lost, I knew that. And now I'm here. I've heard of people being kidnapped for ransom. Is that me? Is Joel expected to pay some big ransom for me? I hope not because it sure isn't in the budget, which is pretty tight, as usual. If I'm not there what does he do? Report it to the police? To the American consulate, if there is one? I think there's been a mistake. I get up and go over and knock on the door and yell out loud, "Hello!, Hello!, Anyone!"
And I wait. Nothing happens. I yell again and pound on the door. Nothing. I go back and sit down. What is this? What should I do? I lay down. I think I fall asleep. I hear a noise and wake up, sit up. The door is being pushed open. I get up and take a step toward it. There's a really bad looking dude standing there with some unusual machine gun or something and he waves at me to step back.
When I was a kid, I had a .22 rifle and went out with a buddy and we shot at bottles and cans. We did it a lot, were sure we knew what we were doing, always shooting into a hill. And we never got into any trouble. But this thing isn't a .22 rifle. My guess is it's what I've heard of as an UZI, some sort of automatic machine gun kind of thing. Whatever, I have no intention of doing anything to get this ugly guy to shoot me, so I stop and just stand there. A small, middle aged woman sort of looks around his waist at me, then disappears back again and a hand, hers I guess, reaches between his legs and slides a plate and plastic water bottle on the floor, into the room. The hand disappears and the dude pulls the door shut and I can hear it lock again.
It's a metal plate. Looks like beans and some sort of tortilla, or a slightly thick tortilla kind of thing. The bottle appears to have been opened and resealed, probably refilled with tap water. There's also a spoon. No knife, no fork, just a spoon. A metal spoon. I feel the plate, it's fairly hot so the food must be hot. Is this poison? Do I eat it? Does it have some weird truth serum in it? What the hell, I better eat and worry about it later. It's actually pretty good. Back in LA I always liked refried beans like they have in Mexican restaurants and this is a little like that. Well, not refried maybe but tastes a little like it.
I don't know how long I'm here. Twice more the ugly dude has come back and the little lady pulls away my old plate and gives me another. So I'd guess it's been a day anyway. I mean, I'm naked. No watch. I've thought about it and I suspect the reason I'm naked is so I can't escape. I mean, I have no money, no identification, can't speak Spanish and I'm in Columbia where everyone speaks Spanish. Or maybe it's just to make them feel superior to me, or maybe to make me feel inferior to them. Whatever, it's working. I'm upset. I have no idea what's happening. This is all some very, very weird thing that I don't want as part of my life experience.
When the dude shows up I talk, try and ask him why I'm here? What can I do to get out? Nothing. Not a word back. He probably doesn't understand anything I'm saying. Then a knock on the door and a voice with an accent like Ricardo Montalban on that TV show where he and the little dude are on an island and the plane comes in, says. "Robert, you've been kidnapped and we've asked for your TV people to pay us." I yell back, "They won't pay, they have no money for this in the budget. This is all a mistake." It's quiet for a moment. "Then your government will have to pay" the voice says. "Who can I talk to?" I yell out but I never hear another word.
I do sit ups and push ups, naked on a rather dirty floor. I have no tooth paste or tooth brush, no soap or water, no clothes, no hair brush or comb. Can't shave. Well, blond beards grow slower at least, I probably don't look all that bad. What else can I do? Nothing to read. Might as well stay in some kind of shape. The armed ugly dude comes back over and over, the identical food comes over and over. It isn't horrible food but a little variety would help. I use the bucket when I need to and the room smells like it. My guess is that's it's been four days.
The door opens. The ugly dude is there but it's not meal time yet, I know. He's holding a naked female, a very good looking naked female. With one of his arms holding her, he beckons me to him with the other hand. When I get close enough, he just shoves the naked woman at me. I catch her by putting my arms around her and holding her. I discover that holding a limp body, even though she's much smaller than me, isn't easy. Part of the problem is, I'm naked, holding a really lovely female body tightly against me and it's down right arousing. My erection presses against her.
I move one hand and arm down around her butt. She has a terrific butt, firm yet soft on the outside. I'm 6'1" and she's probably something like 5'3", so I hold her against me with her head on my shoulder and her feet well off the ground. I sort of stagger back some and get next to a cot, lean over and slowly lower her onto it. She's not fully on it so I have to grab her butt and move it over a little and rearrange her legs and arms. Finally she's laying on her back on the cot. Two of us now, locked in this room.
She's a blonde. A beautiful blonde. Pretty face. An absolutely gorgeous body. Lovely enough to be in movies. The kind of body a sculptor would love to have model for him. Nice breasts. Not huge and pendulous. But even laying down they keep some roundness to them, lovely nipples staring at me. Fairly large nipples. Small waist. Stomach has a slight pooch or roundness but is very firm. A noticeable scar on her belly is the only thing short of perfection. I bet she works out. Great legs, nicely shaped. Rather thinner thighs that most women, she really does work out, I guess. And a bare pussy. Shaved probably. No way to tell if she's really as blond as her head hair. But overall a really lovely, sexy woman. I go sit on my cot and look at her, waiting for her to wake up. I still have a hard on.
I can remember in high school, a bunch of us guys were lieing to each other, making claims for how great we were and when we got into some made-up story about being naked with a beautiful girl, I said that when it happened to me, I'd sure know what to do. Maybe I even believed it when I said it but probably not. I didn't know diddly about what to do with a girl. I mean, I knew that fucking was pushing your dick into her cunt but nothing else. In fact, I remained ignorant longer than I should, even after my first couple actual fucks. I remember in college actually ending up naked in bed with the sexiest girl I'd ever seen in my life up to then also naked. I climbed on her and fucked her and as I pumped away she looked at me without a smile and said "Merry Christmas." I never got another date with her.
I slowly learned to consider the girl and make sure she got something out of it, too. One girl taught me to eat her. Really taught. She insisted that I lick her and then told me each time exactly what to do. She had great orgasms as a result. She also gave great blow jobs. But we didn't last. I couldn't stand being ordered around all the time. Eventually I met and dated Diane. It took a few dates but then the sex was the best I'd ever had. I guess she felt the same way because three months later she moved in. We've lived together for about nine months now. And I know I'm much better at being a lover after living with a girl full time.
