The Stiletto Diaries
From Hell to Eternity
- Part One -
She was miserably hot, terrifiedÉ and lost.
She looked back. The thick jungle had swallowed
any signs of the others.
They scattered when the camp was attacked...
They were probably dead...
She couldnÕt think about it.
She looked ahead, to the left and right.
She had no idea where she was, only that she was
somewhere in Ecuador at the foot of the Pichinacha volcano.
Her robe was a mess, the white cotton hung in damp,
muddied tatters. She was naked underneath. There wasn't time to
grab anything.
She was on her way to the mess tent.
That was when they hit.
She could still hear the gunfire in her head...
and the screaming.
People had warned her about EcuadorÉ about Columbia,
of the kidnappings, particularly of Americans who had wealthy
or influential families. It was a major source of income for some.
If they only knew how much she hated her parents
and their money. That's why Sarah was there, to rebel, to prove
that money was better spent smuggling school supplies than to
impress the social elite who truly only hated your ability to
stand among them.
She looked back.They were looking for her, the men
with the guns. She knew that. She had to keep moving.
Sarah looked up, barely able to see the sky through
the dense canopy of foliage.
It got dark so fast.
******
As Sarah knelt by the water her eyes strained through
the thick night for any signs of movement. She held her breath
and listened. The sound of insects was deafening.
Along the river, where the trees did not grow, she
could see the open sky, now black and full of stars. The moon's
phase was almost full and its placid reflection shattered across
the rippled surface of the water.
To the left, the river's bend took its path out
of sight. The water was deeper in the curve, smooth, almost like
glass.
She cupped water in both hands, brought it to her
mouth. She never had to drink from a river before. It was cold
and tasted of metal.
She didn't feel safe in the open. Her white robe
reflected so much moonlight she felt like a beacon in the darkness.
Sarah stepped back into the trees, feeling safer
in the comfort of their shelter even if it was only an illusion.
She looked to the river. She remembered its name;
the Bermejo. The guide had mentioned they were near.
She would follow its course. It had to lead to help.
A hand clamped over her mouth before she even had
a chance to scream.
******
Her struggle was fierce, fueled by raw terror but
useless against the strength of the man who held her. A powerful
arm cinched tight around her waist, his body folding over hers
to subdue her.
She was spun and pushed back against a tree, his
other hand shoved tight over her mouth.A pair of sharp, copper
eyes stabbed at her, a finger poised at his lips.
There was no time to explain.Through the trees,
three men were crashing toward them. The man swept her into his
arms and slipped without sound into the darkness.
******
He carried her several miles, moving with such grace
and stealth his footsteps merely blended with the natural sounds
of the forest. Sarah clung to him, her eyes closed as she pressed
her cheek hard against his chest.
She focused on the steady rhythm of his heart.
She felt like a little girl, lost in a nightmare,
safe in the arms of this knight in muscled armor who snatched
her from the breath of a dragon.
She didn't even know his name... but she trusted
him desperately.
The jungle seemed to consume them.
When the forest was too thick to carry her, the
man made her walk on her own; casting his eyes back to be sure
she did not lag behind. She was pale, trembling; the onset of
shock but still, she kept his pace.
Adrenaline could do much to heighten endurance.
He had seen it too many times. Like a sustained jolt of electricity,
terror could keep a body moving even after it was dead.
They came to a steep wall of rock festooned with
a web of vines, which they used to ascend the cliff face. Where
it was effortless for him, she struggled now to keep up. Her adrenaline
buzz was wearing off.
She was crashing.
He knew it.
But he had to keep her moving.
On a precarious ledge, he pried back vine to expose
a narrow opening.
He motioned her inside.
Cool blackness swallowed them instantly.
******
The strike of a match cast a faint amber glow, revealing
the long, narrow tunnel beyond him. He pointed to the ground and
she saw the thin glint of wire drawn taught across the passage
floor. He held up his hand, signaled the number five, and pointed
down again.
She saw them if she strained, the four additional
wires spaced out about every three feet. Her mind flooded instantly
with the horrors that might befall the one whose feet played those
deadly strings.
He shook out the match, lit another and they followed
the tunnelÕs bend to where a heavy blanket was hung. When he pulled
it back, a flood of heat rushed out and she could smell the fire-smoke.
She cautiously followed him inside.
The space was small, with a ceiling so low she had
to but lift her hand to touch it and in the center, a low fire
burned in a pit circled with stones. Beyond that, a gaping orifice
framed a star lit sky, which hung like a glittering backdrop to
the flames. Sarah walked toward the massive opening, drawn there,
holding to the cool stone as she leaned to look out. The sheer
drop plunged to some uncertain depth, down into jagged darknessÉ
She backed away, afraid suddenly that some unseen
beast might come to snatch her into the abyss.
She turned back, threading her eyes through the
confines of the grotto, which had now become her refuge. For being
no more than a cave, the space was tidy, well organized; clearly
designed for survival rather than comfort. Yet it gave her an
unmistakable feeling of security. Or maybe it was him that made
her feel safe.
He stood beside a heavy, wooden table; handsome,
silent, with what had to be two hundred pounds of muscle strapped
tight to his 5'10" frame. She watched as he unbuckled his belt,
laden with knives and other serious things, which met heavily
with the top of the table.
He pulled off his t-shirt and dropped it beside
the belt.
His body was severely trained, clearly more deadly
than any weapon in front of him.
With his powerful form gilded in the firelight,
he looked surreal, almost too perfect; more like a golden statue
of some Greek god than a man of flesh and bone. He turned his
face to her.
She felt more heat in the fix of his eyes than from
the fire that licked between them.
"How did you find me?" She asked. "How did you know?"
He said nothing.
"Who were those men, and what did they want with
me?"
The muscles tensed in his jaw.
He moved to the corner of the cave where a large
wooden bowl sat perched upon a waist-high ledge of rock. He dipped
the bowl into a trough of stone, which was filled nearly to the
rim with water. He set the bowl back on the ledge and bent over
it, using his hands to scoop water to his face.
She watched; mesmerized by the way the muscles of
his arms would twitch and flex with even the slightest of movements.
The scoops of water cascaded down his chest, trickling
in jagged lines over his tight and well defined abdomen. He wiped
the excess water from his face, pushing his hands back through
his hair.
"Aren't you worried about the smoke?" She asked.
ÒDidnÕt they teach you smoke attracts attention?Ó
He smiled privately as he returned to the table.
"No one will find their way up here," he assured
her, and he gave a nod to the opening in the rock behind her.
"And no one would make it up that wall without me seeing them."
"No one knows you are here?" She asked. She found
that a bit absurd.
His grin broadened as he sat in the chair. He picked
up his discarded t-shirt and pulled a serious knife from the belt.
"Maybe,Ó he confessed, using the t-shirt to carefully
polish the blade. ÒBut they know better than to fu..."... in the
presence of a lady... "better than to mess with me," he said instead.
She gave him a weak smile.
His attempt to reassure her had helped.
She stood close to the fire, pressing her palms
to its heat as she tried to lose herself in the flames... but
her eyes wandered helplessly back to him.
ÒWhy are you here?Ó She asked. It seemed odd that
a man would live alone out in the middle of nowhere like this.
He slid the knife back into the belt and drew the
smaller one next to it. He had to choose his words carefully.
"I can't tell you why I am here," he explained.
"But I can tell you this, I know everything that happens out here,
everything. A bird doesn't die and hit the jungle floor without
my knowing it.Ó
He hesitated, but for only a moment.
ÒI caught wind of what was going down,Ó he revealed.
ÒI tried to get there first... " and his voice trailed off.
Failure did not come easy to him.
ÒThere just arenÕt enough of usÉÓ
She tilted her head.
Such an odd thing to say.
Enough of us?
As he sat there, his expression changed, dark and
angry, and his hand clenched to a fist around the grip of the
thin bladed knife. He had already said too much but he could not
hold it in.
ÒYou shouldnÕt have come here,Ó he chastised. ÒYou
should not have come,Ó and his eyes slice toward her. ÒDonÕt you
people get it? DonÕt you read, watch the news? DonÕt the warnings
mean anything? Over two thousand people a year are kidnapped out
hereÉ two thousand, yet every one of you think youÕre immune,
that these things only happen to Ôother peopleÕ. ItÕs like you
think being American somehow grants you immunity, makes you off
limits. Well, honey, in case you havenÕt been paying attention,
being American doesnÕt grant you any special privileges in this
world. In fact, simply being an American is exactly what makes
you a prime target. You people come out here with your money and
your noble ideas, trying to change a world in places that donÕt
want to be changedÉÓ
ÒDonÕt preach at me, you arrogant bastard!Ó She
ripped back at him. ÒYou peopleÉ You peopleÉ? Jesus, you make
us sound like some pack of aimless idiots! My friends are back
there, dead, people who believed in what they were doing, people
who didnÕt back down from what they knew was right just because
someone told them it was dangerous. Yes, we knew the riskÉ and
if you paid any attention to what most AmericanÕs already know
youÕd realize that anything worth doing has a riskÉ so donÕt you
fucking dare tell me they died for nothing!Ó
She was shaking in her rage, her rage at himÉ her
rage for her dead friendsÉ
He looked at her, overcome with guilt.
She was right. Fear was the enemyÕs greatest weapon.
Allow fear to back you downÉ the enemy wins.
WasnÕt he there for the same reasons, to stand up
to the enemy, to weaken them by showing no fear?
Where he had training, she had faith. Both could
accomplish the impossibleÉ but like the knife in his hand, training
had a double-edge. In the heat of battle, training accomplished
where reason failed. Survive the moment, thatÕs what training
was for. To ÒthinkÓ, to Òevaluate optionsÓÉ YouÕd be dead before
you made a decision. Because of this, he forgot sometimes when
to stop. He forgot sometimes how to stand-down from the task and
take time to mend "the wounded".
ÒIÕm sorry,Ó he said, and he stood to face her squarely.
ÒI was wrong to judge. Your friendsÉÓ
He stumbled for words but one truth was clear.
ÒThere is no sacrifice without honor,Ó he said with
humility.
ÒMy name is David,Ó he told her. He had to undo
his damage; soothe her fear, disarm her anger at him. When someone
was on the edge, names were something to hold onto.
She stood there, hugging her arms to herself as
she scrutinized his face.
He had risked his own life to help her. She knew
that. It wasnÕt his fault that he could not save her friends but
it was clear he took it personally.
ÒSarah,Ó she said quietly, forgiving him. Perhaps
the man/god was human after all.
David crossed the lair to another blanket, which
hung in the corner by the water bowl. He pulled it back. There
was another opening, and he beckoned for her to look inside.
It was a smaller space, dimly lit by a single oil
lamp that glowed atop a small jut of rock. In the middle, billows
of mosquito netting hung from a set of heavy hooks bolted into
the rock above. The folds of thin cloth seemed a contradiction
to everything around it, white and fragile, lifting in the drafts
to give glimpses of the bedding inside. He shifted past her, moving
to the left of the bed where a heap of blanket concealed something
in the corner. He smiled, and like some misplaced magician performing
his greatest trick, he yanked the cover away.
Sarah grinned, almost laughing.
It was a large, barrel-like tub.
*******
As water heated in two large pots, David fed her.
He gave her dried rations, MREs, which he kept stored for precisely
"times like these". But he had other offerings; wild dates, berries
and other fruits he had gathered from the jungle, and she consumed
them ravenously.
While Sarah ate, David prepared the tub, alternating
pots of cold water with those he would heat in the coals. When
Sarah had finished he escorted her to the smaller room, and after
seeing that she had everything she needed he left her alone, closing
the blanket-door to give her privacy.
Sarah peeled the ruined robe from her body and let
it fall to a useless heap. Thin tendrils of steam rose up from
the water in the tub and when she dipped her foot she found it
incredibly hot.
She smiled. It was just the way she liked it.
The tub was deep but not wide, just large enough
for her to sink to her shoulders as long as her legs were drawn
up. The heat felt good, it sank deep into her bones, smothering
the chill that had bitten into her soul.
She used the things he had set out for her; a large
natural sponge, a ball of crude soap, which she held in both hands
as she cupped it to her face.
She breathed in slowly, deeply.
It smelled like him.
A rough yet neatly folded towel was laid on a small
bench next to her and beside that was a tall metal pitcher. And
there was something she had not noticed before, a blue ceramic
mug. She lifted it to her nose, smelling it cautiously, and a
smile spread across her face.
It was the sweetest smelling red wine.
Sarah draped the folded towel over the rim of the
tub and rested her head against it. She took a long sip of the
wine. It was warm, but sweet nonetheless.
ÒWelcome to the Columbia Hilton,Ó she giggled.
******
Through the thinly woven curtain, it was easy for
David to watch her. The lamp beyond gave sharp detail to her exquisite
silhouette as she stood naked in the steaming water.
She was utterly beautiful.
From that first moment, when his eyes found her
through the trees at the river, his heart had pounded a little
faster.
Her body was firm, slightly muscled, particularly
her belly, which was flat and nearly as defined as his. Her skin
was lightly bronzed, almost flawless without the slightest hint
of a tan-line. Sarah dipped the pitcher into the water and stood,
leaning her head back to empty it over her hair. Water slid down
her skin, gliding in rippled sheets over her shoulders, over firm
breasts, and he watched how it trickled from the tips of her large,
pink nipples. He loved how they hardened as the cool air touched
them, tight and erect, and he heard the faint sigh as she smoothed
her hand over them slowly. Her movements were as fluid as the
water in which she stood.
Sarah worked a good lather into the sponge, gliding
it over her breasts, over the tight, flatness of her belly. Then
she bent to wash her legs. She had the most perfect, pear-shaped
ass.
David checked the throbbing between his own legs.
He was as hard as the stone that surrounded them.
Sarah stepped a foot to the edge of the tub, sliding
the sponge slowly upward to leave a foaming path of soap on her
thigh... between her legs...
She arched her back.
She knew he was watching.
Back and forth, she rubbed the sponge over her pussy,
gliding it up and over her hip to slide it between the firm cheeks
of her beautiful ass.
Soap spilled from between her legs.
Her moans drove him mad.
David loved her soft gasp when she felt his breath
on her neckÉ
He stood so close Sarah could feel the heat from
his body and she felt the current when his fingers first touched
her shoulder. The sensation traveled with his hand, spreading
out across her skin as he traced a line down the graceful, sloping
curve of her spine. She could hear his breaths quicken, going
deeper. Like some predatory beast he was hungry and primed to
feed.
His power, his silence excited her.
Sarah bent to fill the pitcher, ignoring him, her
naked ass pressing deliberately against his crotch. Then she stood
to rinse the soap from her skin.
As water cascaded down her body it splashed across
his chest, his stomach. Again, she bent forward, setting the empty
pitcher on the bench and lifting the towel from the rim of the
tub. She stepped from the water, drying herself, pretending not
to notice as he followed her to the bed.
From within the cage of netting Sarah could see
him. He stood just outside, his broad shadow billowing like some
ethereal mirage on the folds of the fragile fabricÉ
She heard the distinct clank of metal and watched
as he unfastened his belt.
The netting fluttered.
She sat upright.
He was gone.
From the other side he threw the curtain back.
He was naked, ready, his eyes narrowed with hunger.
She had never seen a man like him, so potent, almost threatening.
His entire presence was charged with raw, primal power. Her eyes
slid down to the enormous cock, which stood in raged attention
between his legs.
She reclined back on her elbows and her glittering
green eyes lifted back to his. The grin on her face was a blatant
challenge.
She parted her legs slightly, arching her back to
lift her tits. She loved how his thick chest expanded as he sucked
in a lungful of air. He knelt on the edge of the bed. She could
feel it sink from his weight, and he crawled toward her like some
predator stalking his prey.
How sweet her moan as he descended over her.
He kissed her mouth. The heat of his lips, his tongueÉ
The charge drove straight between her legs.
Sarah wrapped her arms around him. Just the feel
of his strength excited her.
With two strong hands he returned her arms to the
bed.
He pinned them at the wrists, just above her head
and he closed his mouth to her throat. He kissed her neck, her
mouthÉ
ÒDonÕt move,Ó he whispered, kissing the sensitive
skin behind her ear to raise gooseflesh on her skin.
David released her, smoothing the flat of his palms
to explore every curve and contour of her body. He cupped her
breasts in his hands, squeezing them, pushing them together to
lick torturous circles around her nipples. He loved how she fought
to be still, how she resisted the urges her own body screamed
for.
He kissed the flat firmness of her belly, licking
at the taste of her skin, tracing a slow line around the piercing
in her navel. His tongue slithered inside, his tongue clamping
the silver bar to give an exquisite tug and her legs parted for
him.
He lifted and a glare of wicked disapproval flashed
across his face. He seized her wrists. He would say this only
once more.
ÒDonÕt Ð move,Ó he growled, and she melted instantly.
David shifted, his eyes burning down at her. The
head of his cock stabbed like a threat against her pussy.
His grin was almost vicious.
Sarah was soaking wet.
He moved with slow deliberance, teasing her, countering
her moves as she squirmed to take him inside.
He pinned her wrists in the grip of one hand. It
was effortless to hold her this way and the captivity clearly
excited her.
He pushed his hips forward, skillfully slipping
the head of his cock deeper into the soft, molten lips of her
pussy. She strained to have more, but he would not let her. Not
yetÉ
He loved how Sarah moaned, her struggle becoming
more insistent as she almost whimpered in her wantÉ her need.
David closed his mouth over hers, taking her moans
inside of his body, taking her breath into his own lungs. He lowered
his body, applying just enough of his weight to render her completely
helpless. The feel of her naked body, writhing in heat against
hisÉ
She fought him now, and he let her, smiling at her
determination to have what he still would not give her.
He lifted to brace his weight on the arm. His eyes
feeding on her lust, devouring her... and he kissed her greedily.
He thrust his hips forward, penetrating herÉ and
he held there, torturously still.
ÒGive it to me,Ó she groaned. It was a demand, not
a request. ÒPlease,Ó she begged.
His hand smoothed over the heat of her face, over
her throat, down to her breast where he squeezed with delicious
force. She groaned, crying out as he pinched her nipple, twisting,
pullingÉ
She fought for his cock almost angrily, and he gave
her a little more, her cries rising somewhere between the blur
of pleasure and delicious pain. She rocked against him and he
met her rhythm, pumping his cock deeper with each and every stroke.
Her back archedÉ
She was so closeÉ
Éand she screamed when he pulled free.
He sat back on his heels, leaving her there on the
edge, grinning mischievously as she glared at him. David spread
his knees wide, his cock bobbed stiffly between his muscular thighs.
He wanted her to see it, his thick cock and balls drenched and
glistening with her juices.
Sarah drew up on her hands and knees, sinking low,
her eyes fixed on him as she closed in like a lioness on the hunt.
He groaned as she took his cock in her hand.
Sarah squeezed it firmly at the base, holding it
ready as she pointed it toward her open mouth. She waited, almost
laughing at his anticipation. She flicked her tongue at the head
and grinned when his body jerked.
David combed his fingers through her hair, closing
the cool softness of her strawberry blonde curls tight into his
fist. He pulled her onto his cock. Her mouth was as hot and wet
as her pussy. She worked the full length of his shaft with her
hand, jacking with twisting strokes as she sucked at the sensitive
head... Then she plunged deep as if to swallow him whole.
The heat was intense, like fire in his groin.
He cried out.
It was her turn to pull back.
David looked down at her. The sight alone nearly
drove him over the edge. Her mouth was so wet it dripped from
the corners of her mouth. She took him in again, pumping her mouth
deep. She pulled back again, her hand twisting once over the head
of his cock before she took him again. She withdrew again, a thick
strand of saliva stretched out between her mouth and his cock.
She grinned wickedly and swallowed him again.
The torture was intoxicating. His whole body hummed
with such ecstasy he felt himself disconnecting from the world
around him. The only thing real was themÉ the only thing that
mattered was now. DavidÕs head fell back as some guttural moan
slipped up from somewhere inside him. She cupped his balls in
her hand, squeezing at them, milking them... determined to have
their promise.
He rose onto his knees, seizing her by the shoulders
to lift her with him. He had never known such passion, such incredible
desire.
He pulled her close. He wanted to look into her
eyes, feel the heat of her skin against his. He felt like a blind
man who had suddenly been blessed with sight. Every detail, so
sharp and crystal clearÉ The glint of light in her eyes, the texture
of her skin, the play of shadow on the shapes and curves of her
faceÉ
He smoothed her hair back, pressing his palm to
the warm dampness of her cheek.
ÒMy god, you are beautiful,Ó he breathed.
He kissed her, committing the taste of her to memory.
Sarah clung to him, holding tight to the power that
generated between them.
As David lowered her gently to the bed she felt
weightless, as if floating, suspended now in the throws of some
fantastic, unexpected dream.
David kissed her neck, her breasts. He loved how
she responded, how she moaned and held him as he slowly discovered
her secrets...
He used his knees to spread her legs apart, pinning
her down again. He smiled at way she squirmed, so helpless and
exposed. It was the wait, the anticipation that drover her mad.
It made his cock hard to feel her struggle now, to feel her determination,
her will against his, and he held her there, open and ready...
David pushed his hand flat against her pussy, pressing
his fingers deep into the swollen wetness of her lips.
"Oh yes... ", she sighed.
ÒOh yesÉÓ he breathed back.
He pushed his middle finger deeper, feeling through
the molten folds of her pussy lips to find her opening, and he
waited, urging her close to the edge again.
ÒTell me,Ó he whispered, challenging her, daring
her. His mouth was so close to hers; his lips brushing so soft
over hers, his breath was like fire against her skinÉ ÒTell me
what you want.Ó
ÒPlease,Ó she begged him.
He inserted just the tip of his finger, moving it
in slow, tormenting circles to teas more wetness from her.
ÒPlease what?Ó He taunted. ÒI will give you nothing
you donÕt ask for.Ó
ÒPush it in,Ó she groaned, twisting and shoving
her hips to take more. ÒShove it deep.Ó
David slipped another finger inside, wiggling them
back and forth, parting his fingers to pull her open as he teased
her clit with his thumb.
Sarah cried out and arched against his body.
He hooked his fingers, driving deeper, finding instinctively
that illusive place that set her pussy on fire. He pushed a third
finger inside, twisting them deeper, pulling upward to almost
lift her ass from the bed.
Sarah clutched a hand to his chest, digging her
nails into his flesh. The pain charged him, excited him.
Her other hand seized his cock.
She wanted it now...
David wedged her legs wide with his knees, shoving
the head of his cock against the dripping heat of her pussy. He
waited, holding back, forcing them both to dangle on the verge
of the fallÉ
His control was almost inhuman.
ÒBeg for it,Ó he challenged. He was poised, primed
for that moment when he himself could no longer bear itÉ
ÒBeg!Ó he growled.
ÒOh please,Ó she surrendered. ÒPlease fuck me.Ó
He thrust his hips forward, using one powerful stroke
to drive every inch inside.
They clung to each other, lifted in the torrent
of a thunderous orgasmÉ
*****
Sarah heard herself scream and she sat bolt upright,
squinting hard in the harsh glow of sterile fluorescent light.
This wasnÕt right. This couldnÕt be right.
Her eyes drifted around the room, at the pale blue
walls, the speckled tile floor.
This could not be right.
She was in a hospital, tucked into the chill of
a metal framed bed and the antiseptic scent of crisp white sheets.
The door of her room opened and a face pushed through
with a pair of large, dark eyes that peered in with much concern.
ÒAre you okay, Miss?Ó
It was a nurse, heavy-set but pretty; her black
hair pinned back with a few soft curls allowed to fall free about
her friendly face.
ÒYes,Ó Sarah managed, still confused. ÒIÕmÉ yesÉ
IÉ IÕm fine.Ó
The woman gave her a sympathetic smile.
ÒThe doctor will be to see you soon,Ó she said.
ÒIt is good you are Okay,Ó and with that the woman slowly closed
the door.
It wasnÕt real. None of it was realÉ
The soft lilt of birdsong filtered through the silence
of the room and through the window to her left, Sarah could see
the sun had begun to rise.
She struggled hard to rememberÉ
The jungle, her friendsÉ the gunfireÉ
It was a painful blur.
Was he real?
She bowed her head as a wave of dizziness washed
over her.
She closed her eyes, fought it back.
It was when she opened her eyes she saw it, the
scrap of muddied cloth laid neatly on her lap. It was a piece
of her robeÉ and there was something written on it.
Five wordsÉ
ÒI will find you again.Ó
- Stilettos
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