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French Woman?s Ordeal Part 1

By Sonya Esperanto [email protected]

Story:

It was a hot day in Pattaya, Thailand. It was summer time. The locals were running around, with hats on their heads, and here they watch the Western tourists, walking around. Foreigners from Scandinavia love Thailand?s heat.

Claire was walking around. Claire was an attractive woman, originally from Bretagne, somewhere in the West Coast of the France, that faced the Atlantic Ocean. She stood at 6 feet tall, with medium brown hair and light brown eyes, and pretty Alpine looking. She had a large buxom ass and very large breasts, at 40D. She also had the body of a supermodel.

As it was summer time, Claire was walking around, carrying shopping bags on both hands. It was cheap to buy things over in South East Asian countries. She was dressed in a long red dress, had a large sombrero-style hate on, shades on (something like sun glasses) and she noticed how she was getting the attention of the local men, who were much shorter than she was.

The wolf whistles and  compliments in Thai, seemed to have made her smile. Being single with no children, Claire had all the freedom in the world. For a living, she was a CEO. She had a high reputation and enjoyed bossing her male employees around. She was a strong feministic woman. She hoped that her own country would be more like those in Scandinavia.

Later, in the evening, Claire went to a local Thai nightclub, full of foreigners and tourists. The disco music was good and Claire was sat all by herself, on a table, enjoying her drink. While she was drinking, she had been joined by a man. He smiled, ?Hi, may I join you?. She was smiling. He was quite handsome. The accent sounded like somewhere from the Mediterranean and was tall, dark and handsome.

?Yes, please do. I could use the company?, Claire smilingly said. She wanted to meet handsome guys, who would come here. But she wanted to avoid Americans and English, since she thought them too arrogant. He joined her and smiled.

?I?m Hasan?, offering his hand to Claire. She took his and said, ?I?m Claire. You speak good English.? Hasan returned back the compliment, ?So do you?.

After having a normal conversation, they got along really well. Hasan was from Lebanon, from Beirut. He was also vacationing in Thailand and was a tourist agent, in Beirut. Lebanon has as many ancient ruins, like those of Greece and Italy.

?Hey listen, Hasan. I have got to go the toilet. Could you watch my drink for me, please?, Claire had asked. ?No problem?, he replied back in French, since he could speak French as well, to Claire. Claire got up from her seat and walked to the table.  She didn?t finish her drink. But while she had been gone, Hasan took out something from his jacket. It was a small bottle. He opened it and took out some dissolvable pill. He put it, inside Claire?s half empty glass. He watches it dissolve, smiling. Hasan is obviously one of those guys, who spike women?s drinks and turn them to rape victims.

When Claire finally got back, she smiled at Hasan. She sat down again and finished her drink up, saying to him, ?My place or yours?? Hasan smiled, ?Yours?.

               ***************

Hasan drove them back to her motel. He rented this car (at a very cheap price). Hasan opened the motel door for them but by the time he did, Claire felt disoriented. This was when the pill was starting to take effect. ?I feel dizzy?, Claire said. Her mind wasn?t working and thinking very well, like she felt she had too much to drink. Gullible Claire.

When they got inside, Hasan helped her to the bed. She looked dizzy and from the looks of it, Hasan placed a large tray beside her. She went down to sniff it, and she recognized it. It reminder her of Cocaine. Then she felt and saw some light flashes.

Hasan was taking pictures, of Claire taking drugs. Claire wasn?t sure what to make of this but she collapsed, on the bed. Hasan smiled. He was going to leave in the morning and outside her door, place a ?Don?t Disturb? Sign. This was his plan. He was going to come back here tomorrow and he also made sure that he left some copies of the picture, next to her and a letter.

(to be continued)

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2 years ago
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French Lessons

It was during my first summer holiday since I’d gone to university when it happened. I had gone into town one Saturday afternoon to get some CDs, when I saw walking down the street towards me my French teacher from school. Generally I didn’t really like meeting my old teachers, it was always a bit odd being treated normally by people who had been authority figures for me only a short time ago, and even if Mrs. Woodcock (she was French, but had married an English guy) was far more attractive...

2 years ago
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French Class

It was just another day, besides one fact. You had a D- in French, and your mom was pissed. She had said "If you EVER want to see anything but the WALLS of your ROOM you will go and get some EXTRA CREDIT!" So here it was, after school, and you were seeking some extra credit. Sadly, your French teacher wasnt the steriotypical hot, erotic kind. Mind you, she didnt look horrible, but she wasnt the hottest of the hot. She had about C-cup tits, and a rather large ass, a bit out of your...

4 years ago
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French Poodle Sissy 1

My name is Clinton Crayle, and I'm a very different kind of Private Eye. My fee is a Thousand Dollars a day, and I'm seldom out of work. My specialty is untangling the kinky sex lives of the very rich. My clients know my discretion is absolute and I guarantee my results. So if you're rich and in a jam, come to see me. Elise Bentley did.... "I've lost my husband and wonder if you might be able to find him for me?" Elise Bentley, in an expensive dress accentuated by even more...

2 years ago
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French Lessons

© 2002 Couture After I'd finished my morning laps in the pool, I dried off, walked inside, tossed my towel on the arm of the sofa and proceeded to make myself a healthy shake. Sophie, the maid, walked in tisking to herself and eyeing me dubiously, as she picked up my towel, "Ça alors, il ne ramasse jamais, celui-la," she muttered in her heavily accented voice. I used to wonder what she was saying. Then one day I looked up some of the words in an English to French...

2 years ago
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Policewomans Peril

The Fairlane came to a stop and a tall, dark haired man wearing a black suit got out. An older, stockier man was there to meet him, flanked by two more thugs. He was the Mafia crime boss Salvatori Dolmio, who owned the warehouse, and used it as a base of operations for many of his criminal enterprises. “What the fuck happened out there Baroudi? We didn’t do all that planning for a fuckin’ blood bath.” “I’ll tell you what fuckin’ happened!” came the agitated voice of another man...

2 years ago
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Womans Work

Woman's Work by Karen Elizabeth L. (KarenTV720) I'd always heard that a person could not be hypnotized to do something against their will. I suppose that's true but what if there was a way to change your will? Hypnotizing you to do something would then be far easier right? Sure, I know it sounds like bad Science Fiction but believe me it's true! I know it's true because it was done to me! I grew up like any other boy, I played sports, climbed trees, and did the things boys...

2 years ago
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A Womans Touch true story

New years Day was the first day withour rain for a week. It was a beatiful cold Winters day so we decided to go for a drive in the van.We headed for a nature reserve about 15 miles away. We go there often as there are plenty of secluded lanes in the woodland area to park up and have sex.Mrs V wore a black "wrap" dress, black hold ups, no pants and a pair of stilletos. The dress is Mrs V's favourite flashing dress as she can open the wrap to reveal a stocking top and bare thigh. As we drove...

4 years ago
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French Lessons1

"Hi Jack," she said, her soft continental purr already sending shivers down my spine, "How are you?" "I'm fine thanks Mrs. Woodcock," I replied, trying to think of a way to get away as fast as possible without being impolite. "You can call me Chantelle now, Jack," she smiled. She began asking me how uni was, and I found her surprisingly easy to talk to, until we must have been chatting for about ten minutes. "Oh merde! Sorry, I just remembered my parking ticket's going to run...

2 years ago
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French Doors

She stepped out onto the balcony and the warm southern air fought with the unseasonably cool breeze against her bare shoulders. She hugged herself and looked over the yard. Down below on the first floor there were several party goers enjoying the music and each other. She wasn’t sure if she should really be waiting for him here. When he’d said ‘Meet me up there. I’ll be right behind you.’ he’d pointed at this small balcony and it hadn’t seemed as high or as dark or as removed as she felt...

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