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Blogsite of 'Sun on the Rocks' Banana fiction.

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I write Banana fiction, trivial, tropical and easy to peel.

OCTOBER 4, 2013 8:00AM

The Abu Dhabi Channel - 2 - Sun on the Rocks

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The Al Katheeri General Transport container truck carried Clarity through the city of Abu Dhabi for about sixty minutes to Saadiyat island, taking Sheikh Kalifa Bin Zayed highway. The driver, half asleep, unloaded the box carrying Clarity and she was hoping that Scafarel or the people receiving the box would like champagne during midday so she could breathe some fresh air. She reached for her small Minimag flashlight and lit up her Aquaracer watch, just to ensure the luminescent dials weren´t wrong. Sixty three minutes had elapsed since having been lifted from the cargo ship tracking her.

The box settled on the floor, and she heard feminine voices nearby.

"It´s for Room 508, it´s where the girls are."

"The box is huge. This is crazy, six women in that room, the other one on her own in another room, and Bakal with the cowgirl from Colorado. The blonde one on her own says she´s from Malibu in the U.S. and she said it wearing a translucent robe." Cynthia, thought Clarity. The girls were all-right.

"It´s Bakal, he bought them, I´m telling you, and now he wants them drunk with this champagne, made by a descendant of Canon Godinot in Thailand using a variation of Pinot Noir grapes."

"You can´t buy women, much less bring them here. This is a nice place."

"Precisely. They´re all beautiful women, they´re all in their twenties or thirties, they don´t have a job, they don´t study. Put two and two together, Bakal bought them from that lady, Cassandra Scafarel. Anyway, get him the fifteen champagne Thai bottles, that´s all he wants and he´s been expecting them for a week. I don´t want to wake up at three to bring him a late dinner or breakfast. Tell Mako to open the box and get the bottles, I´ve never seen champagne from Thailand."

Forty three seconds later, Clarity heard a thump across from her outside, and the sound of a tool breaking the nails of the woodden box. The box opened and she was blinded by sunlight in an alley showing a large building about fifty feet away. A mastodont looked at her incredulously. She read the tag on his beige shirt: Park Hyatt Hotel, Abu Dhabi.

"I´m the gift to Mr. Bakal," said Clarity, opting for the familiar name and a plausible, leisure-related scenario. She said it in a casual, obvious tone, as though this type of gift box was usual for the hotel.

"Mina, come here, look at this." An imposing woman dressed in western clothing, the woman in charge of the hotel reception desk, approached Clarity, setting one foot inside the box. Her eyes widened.

"Who are you?" Clarity recognized the voice of one of the women who told another to deliver the champagne.

"I´m number eight, a bit late, but same crop of women from the Bahamas, a U.S. import from Malibu, higher grade than the others, I needed some special maintenance, and I taste champagne to ensure it suits the general avenue of pleasure within the body." She lifted her body upwards and showed the bottles, hearing the bandaid patch on her hip rip. R.I.P. to the tracking dot. The tracking dot was broken and Money Fact would not know where she was. Hopefully, the device had emitted one last signal, before turning silent. She regained her composure, walking past the baffled hotel employees.

"There´s one special champagne bottle in the back for Mr. Bakal, it´s the one he was expecting."

While Mina watched her, and the man named Mako walked inside the large container box, Clarity ran away towards the hotel kitchen. She looked at the garden of the hotel and could guess a beautiful pool in the far back, with a seaview. The Hyatt, what a nice place to get abducted, she thought. Crossing the kitchen on her toes, saying Salaam Aleikum to the cook and his aide, Clarity reached the lobby of the hotel and took the elevator to room 510, before Mina caught her. A man with a beard greeted him.

"Sorry, wrong room." She apologized and knocked on room 508, but no one answered. She walked to room 506, knocking lightly. The door opened and she saw Cynthia Stevenson looking at her, dressed in a revealing night robe. She pulled Clarity inside and locked the door.

"You and Flower got us into so much trouble in Eleuthera, I can´t believe it. We´re here, we´re not in the Caribbean , we´re not in the Bahamas, this is not a vacation. Do you know where we are Clarity, where have you been?"

"What happened, I told you that Avalon was dangerous. Her smile is misleading." Cynthia turned around, looking outside the window. Through her robe, Clarity could see a thin pendant around her waist and a small bead moving in swing at coccyx level.

"Yeah, well, she was dangerous, you were right, God she was so good though. Scafarel traded us for the Greek Boustrophedon of pleasure that was here in the Emirate, the property of a private collector before she took it to the Bahamas. She told us we would reach heaven number four in the Middle East. We got taken here on Avalon´s plane, Pink Go-go, by Scafarel´s assistant, Avene Maxini, then they separated us when I had a fit with the daughter of an oil billionnaire, over who should try the jade egg first, if it was found, and over who should keep the remote. This girl´s so capricious, I just took the remote, it works here in this room as well, it´s a universal remote it seems."

"A billionnaire´s daughter´s been abducted?"

"That´s what it looks like, some kind of power struggle, her name is Montana Sterley, she´s twenty one, from a small town, in Colorado. She wanted the remote to control what we saw on television, she said someone´s spying on her father and that there´s a video file on him she wants to recover using the remote."

Clarity saw Cynthia give her the silent look, the look meaning that Clarity was right, but that Cynthia deserved to be right as well. It was an odd situation of knowing they were both stranded, but not to the point of needing each other to get out. They both reached for the minibar, looking for salted almonds, their favorite snack, which brought them together, easing their no-dependence attitude.

"Have you given some thought as to how to leave this place, it might be the important thought to consider now."

"No, Clarity, I´m pretty busy as it is, I have to wear all these clothes, for this sheikh, for that sheikh, we have to be chic for the sheikhs, all the time, Clarity, because we have no money and we´re in this expensive hotel. If I tell my father I´m in the Middle East, in the United Arab Emirates, he´ll flip. At least, we´re in the Hyatt, but our phone doesn´t work." She reached for the tv remote and turned on the flat panel television set facing the two double beds of the large room.

"We have to watch the program, it´s time."

"Time for what?"

"The Adult Channel," said Cynthia. Her look of worry had turned to a content smile. "That´s how Maxini said we´d get food and leave, by watching adult programming. I enjoy it, my father refused to pay for the adult channels at home." A title from erotic film director Andrew Blake appeared onscreen, 'Abu Dhabi Chic', a special film made for Telval Studios, Bahrain, based on the Andrew Blake Film 'Paris Chic'.

"I´ve never seen this," said Clarity, "I just remember seeing Night Trips with Lanai once, that´s about all I know of this director."

"Me neither, the film´s never been released in the West. In Bahrain, they don´t like what the filmmaker releases now, so they wanted their own production. It´s pretty technical, talks about acupuncture points and reflexology. It´s also interactive, one of the actresses spoke to me the other day, she wanted me to get naked, but I refused, I just showed her my bead in the back to let them know I´m one of the Sheiks´ hostesses."

"Can I see the remote?" asked Clarity. Cynthia gave it to her and Clarity saw that it could be the remote she was trying to find. On the top panel, there was a dark yellow, nearly orange, champagne button. She pressed on it, hoping the signal would reach Money Fact.

"What are you doing?"

"Let´s get some champagne, to celebrate my arrival." She gave the remote back to Cynthia.

"The film´s interactive, so they´re filming you as well?"

"Not sure, when I´m not in the angle of the television, the women across the screen don´t know what I´m doing, I think."

Two stunning women appeared onscreen, guiding a third to a library room full of ancient books on algebra and literature. The task at hand was learning, and the third showed her backside while she held a leather-bound book to the other two, who ensured she was learning the lesson well, by tapping her bum lightly with her hand if she made a mistake.

"I thought they´d release the video like the Paris Hilton video, that´s why I refused to get naked," said Cynthia. "This film is good, I love it, third time I see it, it´s so sensual and well made. Where do you think is the key of learning that opens the safe? Inside are the points of climax of a woman´s body and the keys of knowledge." Clarity sighed. She knew that Cynthia had changed, but she was wondering how exactly. She looked closer at the screen, noticing a desk beside the women, and a notepad on it with several numbers. Behind the desk, there was a safe and a shelf with four books.

"Behind the fourth book, that safe lock is square, four sides. I´m not sure, it could be anywhere in that library room." Cynthia pressed on the button of channel four to confirm the location of the key. The television screen flashed a Thai character resembling a horizontal apostrophy, and the panel holding the television set slid sideways with the t.v., revealing an opening to the adjacent room, large enough to fit a person.

 TO BE CONTINUED, HERE, THE ABU DHABI CHANNEL.

CHAPTER ONE.

PREVIOUS BANANA FICTION FOR ADULTS,

IN ORDER OF RELEASE:

Nook, Apple Ipad, Samsung Galaxy Tablet, Iphone, Android, Smartphone,

Sony Reader, Kobo Books, pdf, Kindle.

THE MALIBU CASE.

Or Whether Corporate Nudity should be part of the Dress Code.

THE ACAPULCO COCKTAIL.

Or How a single Drink can turn Thirst into A Traction with the Law.

THE CAYMAN AIR BANNER.

Or Going Where Your Money Goes to Keep an Eye on How it disappears.

THE BAHAMAS LOTION.

Or Discerning When the Notion of a Lotion is not Beauty but Dependence.

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humor, comedy, fiction

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