The Blackmailed Wife
                             By Peter Jensen
                                Chapter 7


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WARNING:
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for the entertainment of ADULTS ONLY, and contains descriptions of explicit
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Pete, despite the drinks, maneuvered his long black Cadillac skillfully
through the streets of Tijuana, and out on the other side of the city. They had
left the pavement, and were now following a dirt road to a large Spanish style
hacienda. It showed up clearly, in the moonlight that flooded Baja California,
even though it was still over a half a mile away.

The Martinis, wine, and black Russians left a comfortable glow on Ann. The
black Russians in particular were delicious after dinner. It was a new drink
that Pete had picked up somewhere, and consisted of half vodka and half Kahlua.

Ann was at peace with the world. She hadn't minded when Carlos, had put his arm
over the back of the seat, and gradually let it down to rest across her
shoulders.

On one bump, he let his hand slip down, cupping her left breast, but she had
quickly moved to keep it away, not certain if it had been an accident or not.
It did bother her, and the uncomfortable feeling she experienced at the
bullfight returned again.

Strange, she thought, what one contact with her first man in six months did to
her. She could feel the nipple of her breast leap into erection when he touched
it, and she was sure that he felt her reaction, as he nestled her just a little
closer, and more confidently, immediately afterwards.

His leg, which was pressed tightly against her thigh, was also disquieting,
and she tried to squirm away, but he had followed her every move, like he was
attached to her. She didn't like feeling this close contact with a man who had
aroused her, and had started to push him away, but had seen Julia slide next
to Pete in the front seat, and rest her head on his shoulder. His arm was
around her, and his hand was obviously somewhere in front of her. It hung over
Julia's shoulder and Julia was enjoying it. Her head moved against him, kissing
his ears and neck teasingly. Ann had been watching this little love-play too
intently to completely ward off Carlos' innocent little advances. When the car
finally pulled up to a large iron gate, Pete blinked his lights, and the guard
opened it.

"Buenos Noches, Senor Robinson," the guard smiled, waving them through.

"Buenos Noches," Pete responded; wheeled the car into the court-yard.

Ann was surprised, there must have been twenty cars parked inside, and not a
light anywhere. When they got out, she could hear music coming from inside,
the only indication, other than the gate guard, that anyone else was present.

Pete guided them to a large oaken door, which was opened to them by a short,
fat, obscene-looking Mexican in a tuxedo. Pete handed him two crisp one
hundred dollar bills. Ann blinked in astonishment. She had never heard of a
night club costing a hundred dollars a couple. Her misgivings arose again, but
she squelched them as they entered the large salon and bar. She was determined
to show Julia that she wasn't a child, and could be as good a sport, as well
as Julia could.

It was the most lavishly decorated room Ann had ever seen. It was done in red
velvet and gold embroidery from ceiling to floor. Long low couches were
arranged in a broad semi-circle that faced a stage.

Most of the men present were middle-aged and obviously wealthy. Most of the
women were quite beautiful, and much younger than their escorts. They were
exquisitely dressed. Ann was certain that they couldn't be the wives of these
men.

She also noticed several middle-aged women with handsome young Mexicans. She
also doubted that these were their husbands. Whatever their reasons for being
here, it was certainly a pretty exclusive and elite group.

"Put us close to the back tonight, will you Ramon!" Pete asked the short
Mexican, who had ushered them in. "We've got a new girl with us and I don't
want her crawling up on the stage and interrupting the performance." He winked
at Ann and for the first time, and she detected a certain lewdness not
apparent before. She hoped that she hadn't gotten in over her head, but thought
that nothing could happen to her here, not with all these people around.

If it got too rough, she could always demand that they call a taxi and send her
back to the hotel. The logic soothed her, and she followed Julia, as Ramon led
them to one of the large couches in the rear.

Two silver buckets of iced champagne were ready. Ramon popped the corks, and
poured them each a bubbling glass.

"Well, here's to a good evening, kiddos," Pete toasted, raising his glass to
them. "Let's hope we get our money's worth tonight."

Ann tipped her glass up with the others, and the cool bubbly liquid felt
wonderful going down. She loved champagne, but on Dave's navy pay they had
never been able to afford it, except on very special occasions.

Ann noticed that she was getting the most covetous glances from the men. She
felt Julia didn't like this, and caught her jealous glances when the men looked
at Ann rather than her. Ann didn't want to offend Julia, but her vanity was
pleased with this attention. She was glad to have some small triumph over
Julia, because she made her feel so immature in other ways.

Ann had begun to recover from the drinks at dinner during the ride, but the
first two glasses of champagne again relaxed her inhibitions. She found
herself laughing again at Pete's and Carlos' jokes. Ann wished that she spoke
Spanish, and could communicate better with Carlos. He seemed such an
interesting person, now that she knew him better.

She still didn't know what business they were in, but assumed that it must
involve trade between California and Mexico. Pete had mentioned he handled the
Los Angeles operation, and Carlos handled Mexico, but had never really
specified what it was. It was none of her business, she decided, and besides,
she would never see them again, so what difference did it make? She did gather
that Julia had met Pete on one of her Tijuana trips, and they had been out
with mutual friends from L.A. It all seemed innocent enough. Ann didn't feel
it was her place to question it. The champagne continued to flow, and Ramon
replaced the two empty bottles with new ones. Ann liked the sound of the cork
popping and found herself giggling from the bubbles tickling her nose. She was
having fun trying to carry on a conversation with Carlos, half talk and half
sign language. She had never met anyone who couldn't speak English fluently,
and being in another country, in such an exclusive private club was exciting.

Ann was thoroughly enjoying herself, but beginning to wonder when they were
going to see this great strip-tease show that they had been talking about. She
had to admit to herself she was anticipating it, and it shouldn't be like that
shoddy thing she and Dave had seen. Not with this kind of crowd. She would bet
that it would be beautifully staged, like shows she had heard about in Las
Vegas. It had to be, for that price. As if reading her thoughts, Ramon
suddenly appeared on the stage holding his hands up for silence.

"Ladies and gentlemen," he repeated several times, until the conversation
stilled among the forty or so people present. "We have a special treat for you
tonight," he continued, as people began to return to their assigned couches
from the bar and conversational groups. "We have just received our first
summer shipment of hashish from the Middle-East. The boys have spent all
afternoon preparing it, and there is ample for everyone. Please be seated
while we pass it among you. The show will begin in fifteen minutes."

There was a murmur of delight, and within minutes all had returned to their
seats. The waiters, in white uniforms, were putting small trays of thin brown
cigarettes on the tables.

Pete picked one out of the tray, and smelled it from end to end, critically.
"Boy," he said admiringly, "this is the real stuff."

"What on earth is it?" Ann whispered to Julia next to her. She didn't want to
show her ignorance, not after the mistake at dinner.

"Oh, nothing but a strong cigarette," Julia reassured her. "Just take the
first few puffs slowly, so that you won't choke."

"Is it safe, I, I mean, it doesn't make you not know what you're doing, does
it?"

"No, of course not," Julia replied impatiently. "Just try a few drags, and if
you don't like it, stop."

"All right," Ann answered hesitantly. She had heard about marijuana at wild
parties, but didn't know what hashish was. Not wanting to appear a prude, she
bravely took the lit cigarette Carlos offered her.

"Slowly, slowly," Carlos instructed in his broken English, as he took a drag
from one. Ann watched him and inhaled very gently. It had a strange but not
unpleasant taste. She inhaled deeper on the next puff, and held it down for a
few seconds at Carlos' instructions before exhaling.

After three or four inhalations, Ann could hardly feel it going down, it was
so smooth. She watched Julia holding her breath as long as she could, and then
took a deep drag herself, holding it deep until she just had to exhale.

"I don't feel a thing," she said in a voice that didn't seem to be hers. She
looked at Carlos and Julia on either side of her, and they suddenly looked
miles away. "Do you feel anything?"

"Yes, darling, I feel the world," Julia answered. It seemed a logical answer
and suddenly Ann did too. She had never felt the world before, how strange.
She liked the taste it was leaving with her. It had a slight bite at first,
that gradually changed into an unimaginable softness. The longer the smoke was
held down, the softer she felt. Ann noticed the lights dimming around them,
until the great room was in complete darkness.

She could feel the pressure of Carlos' leg against her thigh, but the thin,
brown cigarette had dulled her fears of anything. It felt good and she
returned the pressure slightly, to let him know she didn't mind, and that she
was his friend. She didn't mind anything now, from the delicious warmth of the
cigarette. She could feel it tingling deep inside, deeper than she had ever
felt anything in her life.