ACV's 1 Operation Black Gold (42 page)

CHAPTER 42

Samantha sat in the darkness of a sheltering forest, tears streaming unbidden down her lovely face.  She’d left the doctor’s an hour before and driven to this place of sanctuary.  A breakthrough she’d called it, a rapid descent into hell was nearer the mark.  Water dripping off the trees became almost hypnotic as her mind replayed the scene over and over again.  Occasionally a gust of wind would release a deluge of drops onto her windscreen and she would jump involuntarily at the noise, without realising she had done so.

‘Good morning Samantha.’  The six-year-old girl felt fear slide in her guts.  The older girls had told her about Father Acacia.  ‘He likes the pretty ones with dark hair and you have to or God will get angry.’  She’d thought they’d only been trying to frighten her.  ‘I have a present for you Samantha, would you like to see it?’

‘No thank you Father, I don’t want any presents.’

‘But I have to give you this one; it’s a very special present.’  His red face looked dirty and unshaven and his thin greying hair stuck up at the sides like a pair of horns.  A hand fumbled under his cassock.

‘No,’ she screamed and tried to run, but he caught her.  She screamed again but he clamped a hand over her mouth pulling her head back against his stubble cheeks.  The reek of stale wine filled her nostrils, making her panic and struggle frantically.  Cursing he used her bottom to sweep aside the Cossack and sweat ran down his stubble cheeks onto hers, he trembled wildly as he managed to manoeuvre himself under her grey skirt.  She felt something hard press against her buttock and lashed out with her heels.

‘Stop it you little bitch.’  He was getting frantic now; the tight cotton rubbing against his member was bringing him too close to fast.  He wanted to split the bitch, he managed to pull down the white panties a little, but the heat from her squirming young flesh was too much.  ‘Noo,’ he cried.  He had to get it in; he sat down hard onto the bed.

Samantha felt a sudden searing pain in her rectum, her head whipped back in agony and smashed into his nose.  He let go with a howl and she managed to scramble off him, but halfway to the door the panties dropped to her ankles and she tripped cracking her head against the blunt edge of her desk, she knew no more.

The Old priest was caught in a parody.  His smashed nose beat to the same rhythm as his pleasure and he could do no more than scream quietly into the corner of the cassock he was using to stem the flow of blood.  Eventually the spasms passed and he was able to look down upon the lifeless form of the girl.  His semen had run down her legs and shone against her pale skin.

He began to panic; her forehead was swelling horribly, the skin stretching unbroken.  He grabbed a wet face cloth and a bar of soap from the small washstand and tried to clean his essence off her, but it turned tacky.  Sobs of frustration racked his frame, the fear of marking the small body uppermost in his mind.  It took time and his fear grew with every passing second but eventually the task was finished.

He paused in the doorway searching the scene of his crime.  She lay where she had fallen, so still he thought her dead.  He dashed back over and pulled free the laces from one shoe and twisted her foot in towards the other, then hurried unseen back to his own bleak cell.

Samantha was found minutes later and rushed to hospital.  For a week she remained in a coma near death, a small speck of blood in her panties had gone unnoticed in the emergency.

‘What happened?’  She had asked when she finally woke.

‘You tripped on your shoelaces and bumped your head’.  An attending nun told her before slipping back into unconsciousness.  For the next few weeks, she remained gravely ill being told the same thing time and time again.  By the time she was fully alert it had been imprinted on her mind and the slight bruising to her rectum had healed of its own account.

When she arrived, back at school Father Acacia had already left.  Finally taking the early retirement the Mother Superior had been anxiously pressing.  He had packed moments after arriving back in his own cell.  When no one had arrived to accuse him by nightfall, he had taken the old cassock, flannel, soap and towel down to the incinerator and burned them.  Within the week, he’d left, never to be missed or mentioned again and Samantha’s conscious had buried the dark secret very, very deeply, until today.

As she became aware of her surroundings again, she found she was looking down at her shoes.  ‘I always double tied them after that,’ she thought as great sobs racked her body.  As the tears ran unbidden down her face, other things started to cross her mind and her jumbled thoughts began to take form.  She stiffened, with a startling clarity she realised she’d found Jim’s trigger.  She explored the memory and felt the reaction again; yes that was it.

Jim where was he, a coldness gripped her and began to squeeze.  ‘Oh no’, she cried, ‘Lord no.’

The man she loved, the man she wanted to give her passion to.  The man she felt she’d hurt and betrayed was probably at this moment making love to one of her best friends.  ‘Oh no, please god nooo.’  The ringing cry of despair was ripped from her soul up into the tops of the waiting trees and whipped away into the cold spring night.

CHAPTER 43

A lightening pain seared my body and I found myself half standing gasping for air.  ‘What the fuck was that?’  I asked myself.

‘Did you say something?’  Sylvia called from the kitchen.

‘No it’s alright.’  I sat back down and eyed the remainder of our meal, deciding I’d probably had enough.  The conversation had turned to archaeology and unlike a lot of professionals Sylvia loved to talk about her chosen profession.  So we’d eaten, talked and drank wine.  She went over what had happened after our visit becoming more and more excited with the telling until finally she had to go and lay out the artefacts for me.

‘Do you want any more of this,’ I shouted through.

‘No, but don’t throw any out.’  She came to the kitchen door.  ‘We might feel in need of a little snack later.’

‘I’ll just put the lids back on then.’  Grinning I realised what she meant a moment before she did.

She smiled and I felt my heart trip and change into a new rhythm.  The exposed areas of her skin coloured in a sexual bloom.  ‘Everything’s ready.’  She turned and went back into the kitchen, her hips swaying with an instinct as old as humanity itself.

I choked back a snarl as my hormones kicked into hyper drive and followed her in.  The artefacts were arranged all around the kitchen in every available space.  The table in the middle was covered with a large tablecloth protecting the best finds.  She’d taken herself to the far end of the kitchen as was watching me under hooded eyes.  As I reached her she took a step back out of my reach forcing me to keep my distance.  I got the message and turned to the artefacts meticulously laid out for me, well prepared to bide my time.  Above each item lay a computer reconstruction and in colour too.

She pointed them out.  ‘I had these printed out for you; I thought you might like to keep them.’

‘I would thank you.’  I decided to get them framed one day.

She smiled at my obvious pleasure and it lit up her eyes.  I smiled in return and a small flame burst into life.  She flicked away a small strand of hair, flashing the creamy white of her wrist in a provocative manner.  I felt my body swell filling my clothes.  My mind reached out to envelop her- drawing her close.  As she swayed towards me, her hand caught on an artefact, scraping it along the work-surface.  ‘OH!’  It broke the spell, but not completely.  I could still feel the warmth flow between us.

She picked it up, ‘this is a broach or shoulder pin.’

‘Like the ones we use to hold our plaids?’

‘Yes, very similar.’  I could see her think about that one.  ‘Everything’s been treated, you can touch them.’

I did, and doing so, gave me a sense of satisfaction I’d never felt before.  We worked our way around the worktops.  By the time we reached the table, the air between us was crackling with a static sexual charge.

‘I think you’ll identify with these.’  She pulled back the cover a little to reveal a variety of weapons.  I picked up the first with a sense of awe.  It was a beautifully made spear point.

‘This is flint.  They fought the Romans with stone weapons.’

‘Not just stone, look at these arrow heads.’  I was amazed at the variety of them.  ‘Many of these were lying within the mass grave.’  She moved the tablecloth again.  ‘A Roman javelin.’

It was almost in perfect condition.  I could see where it had taken countless blows.  ‘This is a lot heavier than I thought they’d be and I don’t think he threw this at anybody either, it looks like it’s been used in close combat.’

‘We thought so too, it was buried with him clasped in his hands.’

‘A tribute to a brave warrior.’

‘To take with him on his long journey.’  We were thinking along the same lines.  ‘Was he the only one buried in that manner?’

‘No.’ she slipped back the cover a little more.  ‘The piece de la resistance.’  There lay the famous Roman Gladius, a short fighting sword.  The whole thing was bound in black stained leather.  ‘Go on, pick it up.’

‘You sure, what kind of state’s the blade in?’

‘Draw it and see.’  She was bubbling with excitement.

I did so gently but my fear was unfounded, it looked almost new.  ‘But how?’

‘The whole blade and scabbard were both dipped in hot beeswax.  Then the sword was placed inside the scabbard and dipped again to seal them.  When they were cool, the whole thing was wrapped in wet leather then dipped in some kind of hot pitch.  It’s the why we don’t understand.’

‘What about the body.’

‘The body was lying on top of a stone bench, with the sword cradled in his arms, then he was sown into wet leather too.’

‘Mummified.’

‘I think that was the idea, yes.’

‘He must have been some man.’  I held it out in front of me the blade dented and nicked but perfectly serviceable, the weight familiar.  Light reflected off the naked blade into my eyes and I was transported back in time.

‘Jim, JIM.’

‘Sorry.’  I found myself blinking rapidly.

‘I lost you for a moment there.’

‘Sorry, I’m afraid my imagination started to run riot.’

She grinned.  ‘It suit’s you.’

‘You think so?’

‘Oh yes, it’s definitely you.’  I slid it reluctantly back into its sheath.  ‘X-Rays have revealed a lot of detail on the hilt and sheath.  We are unwrapping it completely on Monday.  The Italians are sending over an expert to help.  They are going absolutely crazy over the finds and offers for exhibitions are pouring in from all over the world.’

‘It seems you’ve started something.’

‘We!  Without your help,’ she shrugged, ‘none of this would have been possible.’

‘How long will it take you to unwrap it?’

‘We don’t know, probably most of the day.’

‘I’d love to have seen that.’

‘Are you working?’

‘Aye.’

‘How about I arrange something for you on Monday night, before eight.’

‘That would be fantastic, thank you, is that the lot?’

‘No, not quite.’  She hesitated for a fraction of a second, her cheeks reddening and then pulled back the last of the cover to reveal the big silver phallus.  ‘I thought you might like to see it again.’  She went to pick it up, but bottled, so I did.  It was a good twelve inches long and detailed to perfection.  A small shield at the end even had a curve cut in it so it could be used by a man as a second.  There was even a small handle by which I held it.  The whole thing was cast in silver.  ‘Don’t you dare tell me I suit this?’

‘It’s so.’

‘Cold.’  She fell for it instinctively reaching out to touch it.

Sylvia knew she had made a mistake as soon as she touched it, her eyes locked onto his.  His warm hand cupped the back of hers and he began to draw it slowly through her fingers.  She gasped involuntarily as a sexual thrill ran up her spine; goose pimples appeared like a hot rash.  He cupped her hand over the large tip and a small pulse in his hand transmitting its beat through hers almost brought it to life.

*

I saw her grasp the table edge with her free hand and a slight shudder transmitted itself through the wood to me

*

She felt her legs go weak and start to tremble as he slowly began to push it back through her hand.  She dropped her head closing her eyes.

*

I could feel the pressure against the table build as she pushed her groin against it.  I slid round the end being careful not to lose contact holding her arm outstretched as I ran the phallus up the creamy white of her inner arm.

*

He was behind her now.  The phallus had travelled up her arm down her side across the top of her buttocks and up the other side.  Now it had slid across her front and under the strap of her dress, pushing it down her arm revealing her left breast to the cooler air.  The sensation was almost maddening and now the heat from his groin was soaking through the thin material of her dress.  She fought the desire to push herself against him.

*

She was trying to fight me refusing to give into her desire.  I heard it in a sob, as I ran my lips across her shoulder I could see she was biting hers, so I ran the phallus round her exposed breast then as I ran it over her nipple for the first time, I lightly nipped her neck causing her to take a deep breath.

*

The lungful of air made her head spin.  It came out in a long shuddering cry, his warm hand sliding down over her other breast and squeezed the nipple causing her to take another.  It was enough to set off a small explosion in her mind, she thrust back hard seeking, finding the hardness she needed.

*

She leaned forward, her hips changing angle as she presented herself to me.  I manoeuvred my erection behind my zipper and pushed back moving my hips from side to side separating her buttocks.  She bucked as I found her and slid my length along hers, material to material.

*

His gasp of pleasure galvanized her, replying in kind, he found the most sensual part of her cleft and her inhibitions were lost as her desires broke free.  She rubbed herself shamelessly up and down his rigidness.

*

She was coming hard and fast beginning to lose co-ordination.  As the spasms began to rack her beautiful body I took complete control rubbing and rotating bringing her through it then beyond.

She couldn’t help herself crying out as she came and collapsed fully onto the table.

She was still bucking spasmodically as I ran my hands down the backs of her legs dipping with my knees trying to maintain contact.  Coming back up I lifted her skirt up over her buttocks releasing a layer of trapped heat.  It caught me full in the face carrying with it the scent of her arousal.

*

She heard the rumble start deep within his chest being released as a guttural snarl, his fingers dug into her flesh separating her wildly.  She couldn’t stop herself crying out in ecstasy as he thrust himself hard against her.

*

She cried out in response, the force of our combined desires lifted her off her feet.  As she collapsed back onto the table, I found myself shaking with desire, fighting for control.  I looked down at the beautiful sight before me and could see where her readiness had soaked through the white silk panties; it almost set me off.  She was ready and waiting, I ran my hands up her back then down to her panty tops slipping my fingers in under the elastic, then I looked up.

*

He was going to take her there at the table, ‘Yes’, she told herself, she opened her eyes and they focused on the large silver phallus.  As his hands ran up her back, it seemed to grow in her mind’s eye almost taking her breath away with its beauty.  His hands slipped down to her hips then stopped.  Her eyes were open gazing dreamily at the phallus.  She heard his zip come down, ‘Yes he’s going to push them down open me and take me.’  She gasped as the phallus came to life and moved; she followed it up pushing herself erect.  A warm hand cupped her breast helping her up and she lost sight of it.

*

I slipped the handle and shield into my trousers wedging it there.

*

He kissed her neck and teased her breasts lighting a fire in her nipples.  The fire travelled down following his hands, over her navel, into her bush.  ‘Oh god yes.’  She thrust her hips forward seeking his fingers as she began to come again.

*

It was what I was waiting for.  I hooked my fingers under her waistband and they fell away.  I drew back and slid the phallus along her cleft.  Sanity tried to reassert itself.  ‘Oh no I, we can’t, it’s.’

‘Doing what it was meant to.’  I interrupted her protests and slid her hand through her own bush onto its tip forcing her to push it against her clitoris.

*

She could feel her own readiness and a force began to build within her, something she’d never felt before, but recognized instinctively and wanted, her fingers took over from his.  As the feelings expanded and grew a raging storm descended upon her senses.  She felt herself opening, her fingers twitched once, twice the third time too early and it slid into her waiting depths.  She screamed in orgasm as it sank home.

*

I waited until she caught her breath then pushed her forward onto the table again.  The angle was perfect.  I drew back and started teasing her giving her just a little more with each stroke.  It sank deeper and deeper.  She screamed in orgasm as it went fully home.  I kept her there thrusting deeply building up a rhythm going faster and faster.