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Explorer
971 Posts |
 Posted - June 20 2008 : 2:59:05 PM
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Ned was still groggy, but he felt better after taking two asprin and sitting on his bed for awhile. The headboy, Moussa, sat with him, detailing all that had happened.
"Will you men stay on with the safari?", asked Ned.
Moussa nodded. "I think that all will stay. We have worked long for Bwana Blacklaws, who will compensate us and probably pay an indemnity for the dead boys. He is a kind man, and good to work for. Juma was a traitor. I think now that the boy who went missing was killed, and Juma was sent to apply for his job. Bwana Blacklaws needed to hire a new personal boy, and Juma had good papers. Possibly, they were faked, but he knew most of what he had to do. He may have worked for another safari at some time. The rest, he could see by watching the other personal boys, and just doing as told."
He smiled bitterly. "It is a pity that mem'Sahib Finn didn't let that snake bite him, for he was a snake, himself. We would have done better without him."
Malone agreed. "I guess that Finn's crystal ball needed new batteries that morning. She could not forsee what would come."
Moussa looked alarmed. He was Muslim, and rather enlightened, compared to most Africans. But magic and dark forces were still terrifying to him. "Mem'Sahib Finn is a juju woman?" His eyes looked very large in his face and he seemed uneasy.
Malone laughed. "No, she is not magical, a witch doctor. I was just making a joke. Now, mem'Sahib Marguerite is another matter. Don't ever get her mad, or she will make your life miserable!"
Moussa nodded. "We saw the sign on the back of her shoulder. She was marked, and we think that is for more than being a slave girl. She is more. I sense it. But any white woman can make her man miserable. I have seen it often. If she makes water come from her eyes, her man rushes to comfort her and do as she says. If she speaks harshly to him, he will usually try to calm her and do her bidding. To us Africans, this is odd. You white men build great buildings and huge ships, and make guns. You are powerful beyond our understanding. Your medicine men work wonders with their drugs and healing powers. But you do not understand a simple thing like how to keep your women in line. If an African girl speaks too badly to her man, he chastises her, and she soon learns to hold her tongue. Bwana, with all respect, I fear that the missing mem'Sahibs will be taught to hold their tongues, and to please men. I hope that those who took them will not be too severe with them. They were kind to us safari boys. Your group is tha nicest that I have seen here in some time."
Malone thanked him, and said, "Moussa, mem'Sahib Marguerite really is sort of a juju woman. She may be the reincarnation of a priestess of our kind from thousands of years ago. I have seen strange things which make me believe that the soul of a woman named Morrighan lives within Marguerite Roxton. But if you treat her well, she is kind, and will probably reward you. If she does not, her man will be embarrassed, and he will reward you. Lord Roxton is the finest man whom I have ever known. Bwana Challenger is also a great man, and he and mem'Sahib Finn work wonders with medicine in their lab. He is sometimes preoccupied with the little animals that he traps, to study for science. But mem'Sahib Finn takes good care of him, and she is kind to you fellows on the safari. These are good people, and we will pay you for your loyalty, and to stay. And we will try our very best to get our women back, and to save the African girls that you said these people also hold."
"If you cannot recover them...?" Moussa was afraid to hear the answer, and he hoped that his comment would not anger Bwana Malone.
"Then," said Ned Malone, "we will just have to put our faith in God, and in mem'Sahib Marguerite and her juju powers."
Moussa's eyes grew large again, for talk of juju carries strong implications among blacks. "As God wills, then, " he said, and Ned nodded.
"There is nothing quite so exhilarating as to be shot at without effect." Sir Winston Churchill |
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Explorer
971 Posts |
Posted - June 21 2008 : 02:30:06 AM
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The safari cars raised dust long before they got close enough to camp to see that all was not as expected. Ned walked out and waved them to come to him, quickly.
"That looks a bit odd," speculated Roxton. He took out his binocular, as did Finn. They soon realized that none of the women was present and saw the two bodies that had been set to the side. Two Africans with spears salvaged from their own tents guarded them, for the smell attracted scavengers.
They stopped and glassed the scene with binoculars, then loaded rifles and proceeded carefully. There were more cars than usual, for the District Commisioner and his wife had joined them, as had Angus Hardy. The DC and his wife were meeting Hardy at his farm on the way home after a meeting in Nairobi. They had with them Capt. Craig Thorne of the King's African Rifles. Hardy wanted his daughter to come home and play hostess to their guests. Thorne wanted to catch a gang of ivory poachers and slave traders.
Proceeding cautiously, the vehicles pulled up and asked a distraught Ned what was going on. He was more than glad to tell them.
Challenger sat Malone down in a chair at the table, and studied his eyes to see if he appeared to be concussed. His head wound was tender, and they dressed it properly as the others circulated through the camp, setting things as best they could in their proper places. This was long before CSI lab techniques, and no one expected to find many clues that would be useable by the standards of that day.
What was valuable was the testimony of the safari boys and the little that Ned had overheard before he lunged for the rifle.
The DC, whose name was Sir John Musgrave, took copious notes. Capt. Thorne listened carefully, and occasionally asked an insightful question.
At the end, the boys served dinner, which Ned had had them readying.
"May as well eat. We can't do damn all otherwise, with darkness coming," declared Musgrave. "Early in the morning, we'll go on to your farm, Angus, and I'll establish a field headquarters there. You have a radio, and we can contact police units all the way between here and Mombasa and Malindi. They may try to slip the girls onto an obscure dhow in some remote harbor, and we'll try to cover that possibility, too, insofar as is possible. I'll notify the Governor, and he will no doubt contact the Admiralty to increase Royal Navy patrols off the coast, all the way through the Indian Ocean. The fleet has ships on station there, anyway, looking for just such smuggling operations as this. We shall be as thorough as ever we can."
Lady Musgrave expressed her sympathy to all present. She knew how much it must affect the men to have lost their ladies,and Finn was also especially sympathetic toward Malone. She rubbed his shoulders and told him that he must avoid feeling guilty, when he needed to think positively.
"We'll get those creeps, Neddy," she promised. "Vee and Marguerite are my best friends, and I really liked Diana, too. Johnny and I can track as well as most, and we have a surprise. Geoff has a Wanderobo
among his boys!"
"Whoop-de-do," muttered a despondent Ned. "What's a Wanderobo, and how can that help?"
"Native tribe," answered Blacklaws. "Probably the best trackers in all of Africa. They are more primitive than most natives, and live in the forests. Pretty wild, but this chap has been with me for two years, and he's reliable. If there's any trail at all, we'll find it and follow. The rub is, the way they went isn't accessible to motor vehicles. Craig, how far back is your troop?"
"My lieutenant will have them at Mr. Hardy's place sometime tonight," answered the soldier. "We'll meet them there tomrrow, tell them what's happened, and set out in pursuit. But they do have a long lead on us. Look here, Mr. Hardy: you're a farmer. Have you got a cattle trailer or something that can take cavalry horses? If we can take the troop back down the road far enough, there's a mountain pass where we can get in hot pursuit of this lot. They probably don't know about it, or just don't expect cavalry to be in the area. Cars can't make it through there, but my lads can. Or, we may be able to flag down a train and see if they have empty boxcars and can reverse far enough down the track to let us ride crosscountry and reach that pass. Otherwise, they'll lose us. They were clever to use camels and horses, where no car can go."
"They'll stop for the night, I'll wager," said the DC. "If we get an early start, that train should prove to be just what we need. And I'll get onto the RAF commandant and get up some search planes. We'll soon have this scruffy lot in the bag, and the leaders will swing for what they've done. I'll charge them with murder for the two boys they killed here, and the other charges will just convince the jury that what we seek is proper."
"Does 'swing' mean what I think it does?" asked Finn, not perfectly fluent with the English of her present day.
"Means that the hangman will get the bastards," swore Musgrave. "And well he should, too, Mrs. Challenger. We haven't much kidnapping of white ladies out here, although African girls are taken to Arabic slave markets fairly often, probably. We simply don't know how often it happens, other than from reports the natives give. And sometimes, they're bought off to keep silent."
"We're missing a key element here," noted George Challenger. "Marguerite is the wife of an Earl and a member of the Privy Council. If she can be sold in Arabia or wherever these people are headed, it will be a slap in the face to the entire British Empire. And our image will suffer. As much as we love those women, we also have a patriotic duty to recover them for the sake of white prestige in all of our colonies!"
"He's right, you know," agreed Lady Musgrave. "If European women can be smuggled out of Kenya in this way, no woman here will feel safe. It will cause unrest throughout the colony. Isn't that right, Dear?" She turned to her husband, who nodded.
"There is nothing quite so exhilarating as to be shot at without effect." Sir Winston Churchill |
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Explorer
971 Posts |
Posted - June 23 2008 : 11:00:14 AM
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As they studied maps of the area, the DC pulled out some new aerial photos. It was apparent to all that the raiders had probably taken a route leading through a long ravine, which opened out onto plains that would extend most of the way to the coast without significant trouble for camels or horses. Going otherwise to the coast would involve natural obstacles that would slow their flight.
As they examined the maps, Challenger suddenly noticed something on one of the photos. An idea began forming in his mind. He looked at Finn and asked, "Darling, is there any tea left in the pot?"
"If there isn't, I'll make you some, Genius," she replied. She knew her husband well, and she was excited to see that look that meant that he was onto something!
"There is nothing quite so exhilarating as to be shot at without effect." Sir Winston Churchill |
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Explorer
971 Posts |
Posted - June 23 2008 : 11:57:31 AM
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Miles away, the slavers' caravan had stopped, and the men had begun building a thornbush "boma" to enclose the camp for protection against lions in the night. The camels were unloaded, and tents erected.
The white girls were made to sit on a blanket with their legs extended in front of them. Then, Khalid had their ankles locked in larger versions of the Irish 8 handcuffs that two of them again wore on their wrists. (The ropes that had bound their hands to their desirable bellies had been in place only while they were aboard the camels. Diana was again wearing the American-style cuffs, but with just one link between the bracelets.) These restraints held their ankles immobile, and a chain was run around each girl's leg and locked, to connect the three of them. They were given water, and some dates, which a black girl, her ankles fettered in chains, fed to them. Guards watched them carefully, and they could say little without being overheard.
Marguerite saw Juma coming and called him over. He made a face, but came.
"What do you want, white slut?", he demanded.
"I was just curious about something," she replied. "Do you believe in God, Juma? Are you Muslim?"
"No, I am Kikuyu. Our god is Ngai. He lives on Mt. Kenya. I have no need of your god or that one worshipped in Mecca. Why?"
She smiled sweetly and said, "I just thought that you might want to pray that the police get you before my husband and mem'Sahib Finn do. If they find you first, your life expectancy is very limited. The safari boys who survived will have told my friends all about this little escapade by now, of course. And they will know of your role in it."
Juma started to make a terse, obscene reply. But something stuck in his mind, and he asked about it. "Why should I fear a woman, this Finn slut? Are not her husband, the professor, or Bwana Malone more dangerous?" Contempt dripped from his words.
"George Challenger and Ned Malone will insist on trying to stay within the law,if possible. They are honest, decent men with a respect for rules and for judges. My husband and Finn are less concerned with anything but getting us back, and with revenge. You, Khalid, Ahmed, and a few others here are basically walking dead men. If you ship us girls to Amarrah, Finn and John will stay here as long as need be to hunt you down and make you regret that you betrayed us. I have seen Finn kill men and two hours later, make a joke and ask when dinner will be ready. Remember the snake that she shot, to save your miserable hide? She will kill you as easily. She is a deadly shot, and she hunts with Bwana Roxton all the time. They will find you before long. I thought that you might want to pray for your sorry soul, while you still can. Wasn't it nice of me to warn you?" She gave Juma a cold look that said that she hoped that he died soon, and painfully.
Juma, like most criminals, blamed others for things that went wrong. "If I was not in your camp serving you, I would never have been near that snake. If this Finn comes, she will soon join you in going to serve the Sultan." He smirked. "And your precious husband will learn that fighting us is not like making a speech in Parliament. I will slay him on sight. By the way, I am amused to see that, as I had been told, the nipples of white women are indeed pink." He glowered at her and stalked off.
Soon, he saw Ahmed and reminded him of something. Ahmed grinned, nodded, and came over to the captive girls.
"Soon," he said, "we will have finished making camp. I have selected the place where I will whip Veronica. I am taking bets. Marguerite, you have felt a slave whip. It will not mark you for more than a few hours, for its purpose is to punish, not to damage your value. But it hurts, does it not?"
Marguerite blushed furiously, remembering from her youth just how the blade of such a whip felt. "Yes, Ahmed, it hurts. A lot. So?"
"So," he explained, "I am asking others whether they think that your friend Vee will scream at the first stroke, or if she will last until the third stroke. I have never known a girl to be able to hold her pain within her for more than four strokes. And when she screams, Veronica will scream more than she knew that she could, will she not? How many strokes do you think that you will last before you scream, Veronica? Ask Margerite what it feels like to be whipped. I surmise that she remembers every occasion, stroke for stroke, after all this time. Am I right, Marguerite?" He saw the pain in her face and the loss of self esteem as Marguerite Roxton recalled things that she wished desperately to forget.
"You're right," Marguerite told Ahmed. "Veronica may last for five strokes, but then, she will scream. Any woman would. I screamed after the third stroke, and I kept on screaming until my first whipping was done, and then some. But you have forgotten where we are. You cannot whip Veronica tonight."
Ahmed looked at her curiously. "And why not? I am thoroughly looking forward to it."
So she told him.
"There is nothing quite so exhilarating as to be shot at without effect." Sir Winston Churchill |
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Explorer
971 Posts |
Posted - June 24 2008 : 09:33:18 AM
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"Khalid," said Marguerite, "we are in a canyon of sorts. There are high walls here. Sound carries far in the stillness of an African night, and it will echo here. If Veronica screams, as she will certainly do, any people near us will hear it. Some natives are dangerous. They may attack, maybe even to take the girls and the ivory and sell them, themselves. Or, they may try to rescue any girls whom you hold from their tribes. And a scream may draw man-eating lions. In the Amazon, Indians sometimes sounded like a wounded animal to attract jaguar or puma, if they were hunting them."
Khalid thought. "I know that you are mainly trying to spare your friend a whipping, Marguerite. But there is sense in what you say."
Ahmed was angry. "Khalid! This girl is insolent. Her walk, the way that she looks at us! She seeths with hate and rebellion. She needs punishment. If she is not whipped, her attitude will spread to the Hardy girl. too. Let me deal with her. We are too strong for most native war parties to attack. And will lions really be a nuisance? Marguerite merely seeks to control you, to avoid discipline."
"Enough!," snapped Khalid. "Cousin, what you say is true, but Marguerite is right, to some degree. I do not want a rhino charging our fires in irritation. They do that. And lions may indeed come, and be attracted to the horses and the camels, maybe the slaves. Or even us! It can happen."
"You haven't got the guts to whip me!," blurted Veronica. "I'm not going to scream to entertain you, either." She glared her hostility.
"Vee, SHUT UP! What do you think you're doing?!" Marguerite was horrified. If this continued, Khalid would be forced to act.
The leader of the slavers looked hotly at Veronica. "I accept your challenge, Mrs. Malone. You will be given the opportunity to show that I cannot make you scream. But we will have a compromise. You will not feel the full slave whipping tonight. I will reserve your first session with that until we are on a ship well clear of shore. Then, only sea gulls and an occasional albatross will hear you."
"Tonight, you will receive fewer strokes. Just enough to let you know what to expect later, when we have more suitable conditions. But you will see that I do indeed have the courage to discipline you, and you will learn to fear the whip. After I am satisfied that you have learned a lesson, you will be gagged until you can control yourself. But I will hear you scream first. You have earned that, and you must learn obedience and submission."
He turned to Ahmed and Selim, one of his other chief henchmen. "Prepare her. You know what to do. All will be as planned, except that she will receive fewer strokes. And I want a heavy leather gag ready. She can scream into it for awhile once I have heard her voice enough."
He crouched near Marguerite as Veronica was unchained and taken to the tree which they had chosen for her fate.
"Marguerite, later tonight, talk some sense into this girl. Tell her what a full whipping is like, and tell Miss Hardy, too. I want them to dread it. But it will be stayed until we are at sea, if there is no more foolishness like this." Khalid looked meaningfully at Marguerite.
She nodded. "I obey, Master. I recall what it is to be a slave, and I will spare my sisters as much pain as I can by getting them to accept their situation as soon as possible." She whimpered. "I will feel each stroke that Veronica does, in my heart. It will remind me what this is like. I love her, as a sister. Please be as merciful as you can. I will dance for you later, if you go easy on her."
An idea occurred to her. "Khalid...Master, for I need to accustom myself to addressing you as such, Veronica herself is a superb dancer. I trained her! We dance for our own men. Make her dance for you. She will do penance for her attitude, and she will greatly please you and your men. Do this, instead of whipping her. Please. I beg it of you." She looked shyly down, knowing that this might cool his anger.
And she wanted Veronica to hold the mens' attention by dancing while she did something else...
"There is nothing quite so exhilarating as to be shot at without effect." Sir Winston Churchill |
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971 Posts |
Posted - June 25 2008 : 7:07:16 PM
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"You will certainly dance for me, Marguerite, and I will delight in seeing if you can still move as provacatively now as you did when you were 20," said Khalid. "But we will reserve that for tomorrow, when you will dance to firelight, before me and my men. Tonight, we will see whether Veronica can dance as you say. She had better try to do her best."
"But now," he continued, "she will receive at least a few lashes, which she richly requires for her insults and rebellious attitude. She must feel the whip, to begin to realize that she has become a slave girl, and all that this involves. She is brave and strong, but she is female, and needs to learn this. Tonight's whipping will be brief, but will let her know what is to come from her next, longer session. I want her to dread that long before it takes place. Each of you will be whipped a minimum of three times before I deliver you to the Sultan. That will help you to have the right attitude before you come into his presence. You must know basic submission before then, although I have no doubt that your training will continue. But I will not furnish him with raw girls who still think they are free women." He turned to his attendants. "Proceed."
Veronica was ordered to spread her legs, and an ankle was tied to a heavy rock on each side of her. The distance of the rocks was adjusted slightly, to allow for her height and leg length. They wanted her spread widely, but not to a point where it became dangerous for her.
Her wrists were now unlocked from the cuffs which had held them behind her at about waist height, given the way that they were applied. Her hands were tied in front, wrists crossed, and then suspended above her, from a limb of the tree. Her hair was tied in a ponytail, to better keep the long hair off her back. The ponytail was then bound into the top of her hair, to keep it there for a short time.
Ahmed showed her the whip, which he ordered her to kiss. Instead, she spat at him.
He wiped his face, looked coldly at her and said, "Female, you deserve this, and I will enjoy doing it. Remember what you just did as you feel my lash."
"There is nothing quite so exhilarating as to be shot at without effect." Sir Winston Churchill |
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Explorer
971 Posts |
Posted - June 25 2008 : 7:52:00 PM
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Khalid had the other two white girls brought forward and made to kneel just beyond reach of the whip, so that Ahmed would have room to work without striking them. The black slaves were made to kneel in a wider circle beyond them and the men around Veronica.
Ahmed looked back at Khalid. That worthy nodded. "Begin," he ordered.
Ahmed nodded and drew back the whip. Both Marguerite and Diana could be heard as they drew sharp breaths. Veronica closed her eyes and breathed deeply, also.
Whaaack!!! Veronica lurched in her bonds and exhaled sharply as the first blow landed, but she did not scream. By the third blow, she did scream, despite her iron resolve not to give her captors the satisfaction of hearing her do it. The fourth stroke came, and she screamed more than she knew that she could. By the sixth, she was screaming continuously, as fast as she could draw breath to do it.
Marguerite whimpered, recalling how this must feel to her friend. She was soon bending over, as best she could in her restraints, crying softly, rocking back and forth, as she heard each stroke of the whip and Veronica's screams in response.
Diana Hardy watched in disbelief, then in horror. She felt sorry for the defiant blonde under the whip, and it finally penetrated her conciousness that before too long, she would be the girl in Veronica's place! She began to realize what Khalid had meant when he said that he wanted her to learn to dread what was coming!
Veronica was now screaming at the top of her lungs, and Khalid ordered her gagged. Already, roars came from unseen lions, and other noises from other animals disturbed by the sound of the screaming human female. Khalid became concerned that Marguerite had known what she was talking about, and was not merely trying to spare her lovely blonde companion punishment. The rock walls on each side magnified the screams and caused them to echo for a long distance.
He looked around and saw that every slave girl, bar none, was terrified, and that their eyes were wide in shock at what they saw. The whipping had served its purpose, and he wanted Veronica to recover in time to dance for him after dinner. He hoped that Marguerite had told the truth when she said that she had trained Veronica to dance. If so, she must be a wonder to behold! He was jealous of her husband, left for possibly dead, back at the safari camp.
He held up two fingers to Ahmed, behind Veronica, where she could not see the sign. She must not know when her punishment would end. It would magnify the effect of the two remaining lashes.
When these had been delivered, the gag was left in place as Veronica continued to scream into it. Even with her voice thus muffled, everyone could hear the pain and misery and shock that it incorporated. She flexed back and forth as far as her bonds would allow, hoping that somehow, the pain would leave.
She was left in place for 20 minutes, as the other slaves were taken away, the African girls chained to a heavy log for the night, save for two who were chosen to serve the mens' meals. Two others were chained just by the ankles, with long linked handcuffs to allow them to feed the other girls after they had eaten, themselves. Then, they, too, would be chained with their sisters. The African girls were now handcuffed with their hands in front, told that they could remain this way overnight, if they gave no trouble. The chains securing them to the heavy log would preclude their escape. Their instructions came in three languages, for they were of differing tribes, and only four spoke good Swahili.
The two white girls had been allowed to sit as this happened, to ease the stress in their legs from kneeling. Now, Khalid had them moved to face Veronica and knelt before her.
He had Veronica's gag removed, and she was given water from a flask.
Khalid lifted her chin and looked into her eyes, which she quickly dropped, rather than meet his gaze. Good, he reflected. She was beginning to see what her new status was.
"There is nothing quite so exhilarating as to be shot at without effect." Sir Winston Churchill |
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971 Posts |
Posted - June 25 2008 : 8:25:25 PM
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He spoke to her. "Veronica, have you begun to learn what the whip feels like? Do you wish further lashes this night?"
She shook her head violently, an expression of fright on her face.
"Have you been whipped sufficiently, for now?"
She nodded vigorously.
"Speak aloud," he commanded. "Have you been whipped enough, for tonight?"
"Yes," she stammered, looking in shame at her friends kneeling in front of her.
"Yes, what?!," he prompted.
Instinctively, she knew the answer that he required. She forced herself to speak the words. "Yes...Master. I have been whipped enough, for tonight. I am sorry for my arrogance. Please let this end for now. I swear to dance my best for you, but I cannot do it if this continues for much more. " She finally lifted her gaze to his eyes and begged, "Please. Master..." She dropped her eyes again, humiliated by what she had been forced to say.
She sobbed, and blushed scarlet as she saw her two fellow slave girls looking at her.
Khalid nodded to the guards. "It is enough. Bathe her, then let her down. Lock her wrists in the Irish 8 cuffs, but conventionally, with her wrists side-by-side. Also fasten Marguerite this way, and chain all three white girls' feet with regular fetters. Put them in that tent. Leave Veronica's hair in a ponytail for now. I enjoy seeing her that way. And put her pretty little blue knickers back on her. I like those, too." He gestured to a tent that had been erected a distance from his own quarters. "Lock their ankle chains to rings in the heaviest iron ball that we have. Later, after we eat, Veronica will perform for us. If she fails to please, all three girls will be whipped as she was. Do you understand the responsibility that you have, Veronica?" He seized her ponytail and lifted her head by her hair.
"Yes...Master. I will be a delight to you." She unconciously phrased her words as she thought that Marguerite might. She had known her brunette companion for eight years, and she sensed what those words would be, after recalling some situations that they had already been in, and survived. But this, she had never experienced, even when in the hands of the imperious lizard man, Tribune, where she had indeed been a defiant girl. Now, she knew, this captivity would be different from any before. She shuddered as a slave girl began to gently bathe her with warm water from a large metal bowl.
"There is nothing quite so exhilarating as to be shot at without effect." Sir Winston Churchill |
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971 Posts |
Posted - June 25 2008 : 9:18:28 PM
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Their ankles freed, Marguerite and Diana were stood up, and Marguerite's wrists were freed of the cuffs that had held her arms parallel, at about waist height. She was allowed to exercise her arms for a brief time, to restore full circulation, before her hands were drawn behind her again for conventional cuffing.
She called out to the departing Khalid. "Master! May we please wear our cuffs with our hands in front, as the African girls do?"
Khalid paused, thinking. "It will depend on how well Veronica dances and otherwise entertains me later. I will also intimately examine Diana, before I have Veronica brought to me. For now, you will have your hands in back. I really do not trust you. And there is another reason why I prefer you with your hands behind you."
"What is that, Master?" Diana's voice quivered as she asked. She was ashamed to realize that she had just called this vile Arab, "Master". But it had sprung from her lips before she could think. Seeing the whipping had had the desired effect upon her, apparently...
Khalid walked over, lifted her head, and looked into her frightened blue eyes. "You girls are simply sexier when bound that way, Miss Hardy. And it induces additional feelings of helplessness in you, which is communicated in your bearing, your body language. It is pleasant for a man to behold."
He motioned to a guard. "Also tie these other two girls' hair in ponytails. I like seeing them that way tonight. Use a yellow ribbon on Miss Hardy's hair, and a red one on Lady Roxton. Take the leather lace from Veronica's hair, and tie it instead with a pink ribbon."
He walked off, and the three white girls looked at one another. A glance of despair passed between them, and Veronica cast her eyes down again. She had never felt so ashamed before in her life. If Ned is alive, she wished, I hope that he never sees me this way. I think I know most of what I am going to have to do in that Arab bastard's tent tonight. And I will do it, as well as I can, to buy us girls what mercy it may. But I will feel so unworthy of my own husband afterwards. I wonder if I can ever be the same to him again, if we are ever rescued. If Ned is even still alive, that is...
She was allowed to don her panties, then her arms were taken behind her, and she felt the cuffs being snapped shut on her wrists. The sound of the key setting the lock was the most dismal sound that she could imagine, after the screams that she had uttered that afternoon.
In the near distance, a lion roared. It sounded nearby, and as if it wanted to prove something. Veronica shuddered as she spread her feet for the leg irons to be applied to her ankles.
Then, a ridiculous thought came to her. She laughed, and looked directly into Marguerite's eyes.
"Can this day possibly get any better?", she asked.
Marguerite was stunned, then both former Treehouse girls began laughing.
Diana Hardy watched them as her ankles were fettered, afraid that they had gone mad from what had happened. She felt more fear than ever before in her life. What on earth had these two friends found to laugh at, in these grim circumstances?!
"There is nothing quite so exhilarating as to be shot at without effect." Sir Winston Churchill |
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971 Posts |
Posted - June 26 2008 : 8:29:16 PM
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The girls were put in the tent, and all went well for over an hour as they were fed. A girl came and bathed Marguerite and Diana, for which they were grateful.
Left alone except for a guard occasionally looking in, they talked, getting better acquainted. They found considerable compatability, and Diana thrilled to hear a few of their jungle tales from South America. She invited them to visit her and her father and to hunt on their huge farm, if they ever escaped Khalid's clutches.
Finally, Diana could suppress her curiosity about something no longer. "Look, ladies," she ventured, "may a brash colonial girl ask you two a rather intimate question?"
"Ask away. I'll deny everything," quipped Marguerite. Veronica laughed. It felt wonderful to do that.
"Well, I can't help wondering..." Diana blurted it out. "Why do you shave between your legs?"
Veronica snickered and Marguerite rolled her eyes dramatically.
"I'll answer for us, " said Veronica. "When we still lived in my Treehouse in Brazil, we swam nude a lot, and I noticed right away that our friend Finn - you've met Mrs. Challenger - shaved there. She said that many girls in her city did that. Men liked it, and it made hygiene there easy. Besides, Finny said that it makes it easy for a guy to get his tongue in you down there when he's licking you out. I was a little shocked, but Ned was soon doing that to me, and I asked him whether he'd like to see me bare down there. He looked like a kid in a toy store, and said that he would."
"I did it, shaved, and he loved the look. It lets him see all of my forbidden zone that little boys don't have, and lets us feel like we're doing something naughty. Marguerite probably has that half-inch wide strip of fur there just because she's so lewd in general." She grinned at her British friend.
"I'll have you know that Roxton bade me keep that litle strip of hair to prove that he married a true brunette, if anyone ever accuses me of dying my hair," commented Lady Roxton. "Actually, I suppose that our reason is the same as for the Malones and the Challengers. It's a racy sort thing to do, and it does intrigue the lads. And John is very skilled indeed, with his lips and tongue when he goes down there. I can't help crying out in ecstasy some nights."
"Yeah," said Veronica dryly. "We heard. Remember?"
"Look, Diana, " added Marguerite, "this is rather indelicate, but have you and Stuart ever done the reverse, where you, ah, return that favor?"
"You mean oral sex?" Diana was mildly shocked. "Of course not. Stuart is a gentleman. And for the record, I am a virgin, and planning to remain so until my wedding night. Are they going to rape us, do you suppose?" She looked anxious.
"Probably not, " said Marguerite. "For one thing, they'll get more for you as a virgin. And I heard one of them complaining that they had orders not to use us. Orders from the Sultan. Doesn't want his toys being played with by other boys, I expect. Otherwise, we'd certainly all be enjoyed by at least several of them, partly to break us in for our deightful future as slave girls. That certainly was the case with my friend Antoinette and me when I was being taken to Arabia. Our training began on the ship. Neither of us was a virgin, so that wasn't an issue. The slaver's men had their way with both of us, made us do anything and everything that they wanted. And there isn't much that a girl can do with a man that they didn't want." Marguerite flushed with the shame of that memory.
"But Diana, they can do most things to us other than the ultimate, if you take my meaning, and they are expected to handle us and have us please them, otherwise. I want you to be emotionally prepared in case they have you kneel in front of Khalid and pleasure him with your mouth. Can you do that? You'll probably be forced, and they'll punish you if you refuse. You saw what happened to Vee today, and we all have some of that coming, anyway. They also have other mean things to do until you beg to do what they want. I wouldn't like to see you suffer needlessly. Remember, we are slave girls now. Don't judge yourself as a free woman anymore. We are required- REQUIRED- to please masters as they choose. Neither Veronica or I will think less of you if you do that. They'll probably make us all do it. And if we're ever rescued, you'll have learned a new wedding night talent to please Stuart. Trust me; he'll like it. All men seem to."
"But Stuart is a fine man. He'd be shocked by that!" Diana was aghast.
"Give him a little time after the wedding, and ask him. He'll maybe think about it. But unless he's one of those men who have a big problem with the madonna-whore syndrome, he'll go for it. If he doesn't, he's probably kind of a prude. In that case, marry Geoff Blacklaws. He seems a fun bloke, and he has eyes for you. Not that he'd intrude on his friend Stuart's territory." Marguerite was smugly confident about how Blacklaws had looked at Diana.
"Geoff? Eyes for me?" Diana was baffled.
"Oh, yes: he gives you the old visual going over," added Veronica. "But he's a man and you are very good looking. If I was a guy, I'd stare at you, too. You'll bring a good price on the block, if the Sultan doesn't keep you. But he probably will. You'd be a real prize for his harem. Right, Marguerite?"
"Definitely," agreed Lady Roxton. "Vee, don't you dare sell for more than I do. I couldn't bear having a blonde do that to me a second time." She smiled ruefully, knowing that she would probably never be sold again. What the Sultan had in mind for her was probably going to be painfuly fatal. Her only hope might be to plead with him to let her train his girls. And if he displayed her nude to Arab guests, as a captured English noblewoman, that might save her for a time. He would surely take immense pleasure in that...
"There is nothing quite so exhilarating as to be shot at without effect." Sir Winston Churchill |
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Explorer
971 Posts |
Posted - June 26 2008 : 10:11:43 PM
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All too soon, guards came and unlocked Diana's chains from the heavy iron ball on the floor of the tent. She was made to kneel, while one lifted her hair and locked a metal collar on her throat. He rotated the small lock until it was behind her neck, where her hair hid it. The front of the collar had a ring for attaching a chain or a leather leash. He leashed her, and she was led away, looking back piteously at her friends.
The other girls then knelt and received their own collars. "Is that this season's fashion accessory?", inquired Marguerite. "I'd hate to think that Khalid is cutting corners and making us girls wear last season's styles."
The guard looked confused, but Ahmed stepped in and laughed. "You do have an English sense of humor, Lady Roxton," he conceded. "Try to stay cheerful. Mrs. Malone, may I say what a delight it was to whip you today? I can hardly wait until the next occasion. You will soon cringe at the very sight of the lash!" He leered and fondled the kneeling Veronica.
To his surprise, she leaned forward, making it easier to play with her breasts. "If Master is pleased, I am thrilled, I'm sure. Look, Ahmed, I am going to be no trouble at all. Play with whatever I have, whenever you like. But go as easy on that whip from now on as you can. Okay?"
He glared at her. "I will discipline you as I should." He softened. "Veronica, it is best that you be broken well and thoroughly. It will serve you better, later. You are now a slave, and you must react as one. Don't bargain with me. I have all the power. You will take what punishment I decide. Girls must learn to say, 'yes, master', not manipulate the men. Understand? Marguerite, you nearly got whipped today for offering to dance to appease Khalid. You must please him, anyway, so you have nothing with which to bargain. Just be pleasing girls, and let that bargain for any mercy that you may receive. Of course, you may wish to play up to someone, hopefully me. If you press against me, and use your eyes well to offer yourselves to me and beg my favor, that may help you. But that is all that you can hope for. Understand?"
Both women lowered their eyes and said as one, "Yes, Master."
Marguerite asked him to convey her apology to Khalid for trying to bargain her dance for mercy towards Veronica. "I feared for my friend. I am ashamed if I have offended my owner. Ahmed... Master.., I once spent over a week in a Room of Correction in Amarrah. I beg to please. I wish never to have to go there again. My memory is long. I will be a compliant slave." She looked down again and shuddered at the recollection of what had been done to her before she surrendered fully to the former Sultan's wishes.
"It is good, Marguerite. I will convey your apology to my cousin. He actually likes you. I think that if he was not contracted to sell you to the present Sultan, he might keep you."
He turned to Veronica. "Veronica, soon Diana will be returned here. She is only going to be examined and handled, to get her accustomed to it. She will get more, of course. But if she is obedient, she will soon be back here. Then, you must dance. Can you truly perform well?"
"Yes, Master. Marguerite taught me well, and she and I and our friend Mrs. Challenger all competed subtly to be the best dancer among us three. We danced for all of our husbands on festive nights in the Amazon. You will find me to be good, and I will get better. I want to feel that lash as seldom as possible. For what it's worth, you do know how to whip a girl." She shivered.
He played with her hair, and squeezed her right breast as he left. "Do your best then, blonde slave. Oh: when the three of you women danced, who was best?"
Veronica looked at her friend. "Marguerite was. I wanted to be better, but I never will be. Mrs. Challenger and I were both about as good as each other, but we moved a little differently. But Finn and I always resented you, Marguerite. We knew that we'd never excite men as well as you can."
Marguerite laughed sadly. "That doesn't stop Finny from trying. As long as it doesn't embarrass George, she vamps men and looks to see if they notice. She's definitely an exhibitionist. I think it helps her self esteem to know that they feel compelled to stare, if politely. Those shorts that she wears here are longer than the ones she had on the Plateau, but they're still at the limit for today, and she wears them tighter than most women dare. Ahmed, you missed the boat when you didn't catch her. She'd sell for a pretty price, if she didn't kill whoever was trying to enslave her."
"I bid you ladies farewell for the moment. I want to go and see Diana's shock at what is being done to her." He smirked and left.
Both slaves sank down again and looked at one another. "Vee, I want you to know that whatever happens to us, I consider knowing you to have been one of the most fulfilling experiences of my entire life," said Marguerite. "I love you, and I always will. You have been the truest friend that I could ever have, other than John, of course."
Veronica smiled, leaned over, and kissed Marguerite's shoulder. "Likewise, Limey. Don't despair. We'll get through this somehow yet. By the way, I wanted them to whip me. I wanted our friends to hear me scream. But they're too far back, aren't they?"
"Yes, Vee. Much too far back. Their cars can't come the way these bastards have taken us. But they'll find us, I hope. I know they're trying. I feel almost as sorry for poor John right now as I do for us. He must be suffering absolute torment. George and Finny and Ned, too, if poor Ned is concious. They may have had to take him to a hospital before they came after us. But they will come. I just hope that we aren't chained in the hold of an Arab dhow before they locate us. Oh: was the whipping worse than what you expected, when you decided to make that sacrifice?"
Veronica flushed. "Yes. Far worse. I've never dreamed of that much pain. Look at my back and legs. Are the marks still there?" She rolled to let Marguerite examine her backside.
"Only some. They gave you a short dose. I've never seen it last for more than a day, if that. That whip is expertly wielded, and it's meant to cause pain, not to mark you. But the marks that it doesn't leave in your flesh are left in your soul. By the time that we reach Amarrah, the very sight of that whip will make us whimper and beg. I fully intend to grovel and plead if it makes them happy. You'd better do that, too. The good news is, I think I have a plan. But I need to get it better formed in my mind before I act. Wish me luck. If it works, we may just avoid meeting the Sultan yet!"
"I sure hope so," agreed Mrs. Malone. "That's one pleasure that I'd be happy to forego."
They heard a crying girl coming their way. "I expect that'll be poor Diana, Vee. Keep them busy for as long as you can, no matter what it takes. I think I'm on the verge of deciding what to do. If I act, it will be while you distract them. Fortunately, you're tremendously well equipped to distract men!"
"Why, Lady Roxton!," exclaimed Mrs. Malone. "What a lovely and kind thing to say!" She laughed.
Then, the tent flap was pulled aside, and a weeping Diana Hardy was thrust within.
"There is nothing quite so exhilarating as to be shot at without effect." Sir Winston Churchill |
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Explorer
971 Posts |
Posted - June 27 2008 : 12:38:14 PM
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Diana looked quickly at the other women, blushed, and tried to compose herself, with limited success. She looked much as she had before leaving the tent, save that her wrists were now not only in handcuffs behind her back. There was a slim chain around her waist, and her cuffs were fastened to this by a small lock. But her demeanor was less confident. She was certainly no longer the proud mistress of the colonial manor that she had been when they first met. It was clear that she was becoming used to the idea that she might well wear chains in the harem of an Arab master for years to come. What had probably just happened to her was enough to keep many white men from considering marrying her. She had been naked in the hands of non-whites, and certain things would be presumed to have happened to her, even if some hadn't...yet.
She was held at the door of the tent while Veronica was made to stand while her leg irons were released from the heavy iron ball. Then, Veronica was led out, leashed. She looked back and mouthed a kiss to Marguerite, who returned the gesture.
Diana was brought forward and knelt beside Marguerite. Her leg irons were locked to the ball, whch must have weighed at least 35 pounds.
A guard played with her hair and made a crude demand. Diana blushed, took his outstretched thumb in her mouth, and artfully addressed it as if it had been another item of his anatomy.
The guard, whose name was Ali, laughed and fondled her before he went outside with the other man who had been assigned to watch them.
Diana turned to Marguerite. "You were right, Lady Roxton. They made me do that, to three of them. I am so ashamed! Poor Stuart will be quite justified to leave me. And I was handled very thoroughly. They examined everything that I've got, and let me know just what they thought of me. Thankfully, their remarks were mainly praise, if insulting. If my father was here, he'd thrash them for what they said to me, let alone for what they did. Oh, my gosh! What if my own father will not bear my presence, after what they have done?" she looked horrified and began to cry again.
"Diana, shut up. Your father deserves more of your faith than that. He seems a fine man, and he clearly loves you. I've seen the fondness in his gaze and the way that he hugs you. He thinks you're the flower of British womanhood, and I daresay that Stuart Hamilton is also made of better stuff than you're giving him credit for. And call me Marguerite. I don't exactly come across too well as Lady Roxton at the moment. I'm just Marguerite, slave girl. No better than you. What they did to you, they will do to me, and they will do it to Veronica tonight, too, and for days to come. You need feel no shame in my presence. I only hope that you can feel friendship, and trust."
"But Marguerite, they...did things.. to me. Horrible things. Their dirty hands have been all over me. They touched me where even Stuart has not been allowed to go, yet. Now, he won't care to! I have become a slut! What is to become of us?!"
"It takes more than that to become a slut, Diana. Trust me: I should know. I've been well acquainted with some women who would qualify for that name. I may have been one of them, at one time. Maybe borderline, except when the Sultan held me before. I guarantee you that I was a slut then. And I tried to be the best slut in his stable of girls. It made my life far more bearable than it would have been otherwise."
"But you are now married to Lord Roxton. Does he know of this? Why would he marry you, if he does? He is a gentleman, a peer of the Realm!"
Marguerite laughed. "Diana, he does know. I confessed my sordid past to Veronica and Finn one night, as we prepared to dance for our men. (See, "A Prisoner of the Sultan, or How Marguerite Learned to Dance" in Fiction on THIS board.) I swore them to silence, but they urged me to tell Lord Roxton, with whom I was already sleeping by that time. I'll thank you to keep that to yourself. Everyone already assumes the worst, but I'd just as soon not have it confirmed by a girl who knows me well."
"And?", prompted Diana. "How did he react when you told him?"
"He was the most wonderful lover in the world. He kissed away my tears and held me in his arms, and told me that all that mattered was that I had told hm. He said that it bothered him far more not to know my secret than it troubled him to be aware of what had happened to me. His only comment about what I had done was to tell me that it meant that I must be a total love slut, and that he expected no less than I had given the Sultan. And he wanted it often."
She laughed. "I should have known John well enough by then to have had more faith in him. But I felt as you do now, and I had done far worse, for over a year. And I was not even a virgin when I was captured in France. There had been two men before, and too many since. I was married several times, and my wealth was largely the result of husbands dying. I was suspected of killing them, but I didn't, really. They were just older men whose hearts perhaps found my talents to be too much of a strain. One was a German general, who was killed in the war. An Australian sniper killed him just four days after he went to the front."
"I was Baroness Krux before I became Lady Roxton. And I'll tell you this: I love having a title. I'm quite frankly a snob. But Lord Roxton saw through me from the start, when we went to Brazil on Challenger's little expedition. He told me that I was no more a lady than he was a gentleman. But, Diana, he was wrong. The Earl of Avebury is far more of a gentleman than I have been a lady. The greatest honor that I have had or dreamed of having was when he asked me to be his wife. He actually asked 14 times, though, before I accepted. I had too much baggage, and I felt so unworthy of him! I just knew that he'd abandon me if he knew the truth about me. But when he learned, he still asked me if I would do him the honor of becoming Lady Roxton."
"I tried to be dignified and a little aloof when I accepted, but I broke down crying and sobbed out, yes, yes, a thousand TIMES, YES! I would marry him, if he was fool enough to have me. He was, and I have tried to be the best wife that he could have."
"Diana, Finn once told me, half seriously, that if it was what George Challenger insisted on, she would kneel naked at his feet and beg for his collar rather than be a queen anywhere else. She was surely exaggerating, but maybe not by as much as she pretends. You've seen the way that the Challengers interact? That is the purest love that I have ever seen."
"Well, if Roxton makes me keep this collar that I now wear, or wishes to replace it with his own, I will wear it with pride. But what I really want is the wedding rings that Khalid took when he stripped us. Those are all the collar that John Roxton needs to make me his own. I am his wife before I am anything else, and I think that you should give Stuart Hamilton the benefit of the doubt. He may not be the man that John Roxton is -damned few are- but let him decide just how soiled you are. He may surprise you, even if it means having to bear the scorn and ridicule that less enlightened people will certainly cast your way. And if he does tell you that you are soiled goods, give Geoff a chance at you. I think he may be a more tolerant, easygoing man. And he does look at you as something that he'd chase, if Stuart wasn't his good friend."
Diana looked with increasing awe at Marguerite. "I can't believe that you'd tell me this, Marguerite. Thank you for your trust. But are you saying that Lord Roxton still thinks that you are a lady after all that he knows?"
"Not truly. He knows me for what I am, good and bad. And there is some good that he's found in me, and he's brought out more good than I knew that I had in me. But if he does not think of me as the typical English image of ladyhood, he certainly thinks of me as HIS lady. And that is all that I wish, that I could dare to hope for. My children are his, and my heart is his. And if I can manage to achieve it, I am going to be back in his arms, in his bed, as fast as I can do it. If I can, I'll try to take you back to Stuart, too, and let him decide whether you are still worthy of him. If not, there are other fish in the sea."
"I don't want some other fish. I want Stuart." She sobbed again, knowing that this might not be possible.
"There is nothing quite so exhilarating as to be shot at without effect." Sir Winston Churchill |
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Explorer
971 Posts |
Posted - June 27 2008 : 2:05:38 PM
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Veronica was led into Khalid's tent, where she found all of his senior men awaiting her, expectant grins on their faces. They know what to expect of a woman who has been whipped, she thought. Am I that low? Yes, for I know what it is to fear the whip, and Marguerite is depending on me to keep them busy. Goodness knows what she'll do, but I'll try to buy her the time to do it.
Without being bidden, she stepped over to Khalid and dropped to her knees on the Oriental carpet. "I beg to serve Master's pleasure, however he wishes. Please be gentle with a slave and with her friends." She bent lower, putting her forehead to his feet. I feel so repulsed by this, she thought, but it's what this bastard wants. And if I have learned anything about men, it is that I can appeal to their damned vanity...
Smiling broadly, Khalid had her rise and turn slowly, displaying her to his fellows. He had her chains removed, including the Irish 8 handcuffs.
With her hands on her head, she walked around the tent, letting each man fondle her as she lingered briefly for his touch. Then, she returned to Khalid and did a nasty bump and grind, working her loins for all that she could. She had never done this so lewdly before, even when she was trying to upstage Finn and Marguerite before their own men. The disgusting thing was, she felt a sordid thrill as she saw Khalid's response. I'm certainly going to be a hit here, tonight, she thought. Oh, well: Marguerite wants time. I'll give it to her as best- worse- as I can. It even makes me feel desirable, she marvelled. This slave stuff sure brings out my inner slut...
"Your hands are free, Veronica," pointed out her master. "Remove your knickers. What you American girls call panties. Where did you get those brief ones?"
She stepped from them, using her thumbs to peel the feminine material down her long, shapely legs before stepping out of them. "I'm Brazilian, but becoming American, so I call them panties. My friends Finn and Marguerite design them, after some that Finn knew where she came from. We have them made for ourselves and a few other ladies. I am honored if you like them."
"Oh, I like them, especially as you remove them," quipped Khalid, to general laughter. "You and Marguerite can look forward to modelling them in future days. You will each lend them to Diana, too, for her knickers were too large, not worth saving. I burned them before her tonight, that she might realize that even her most intimate garment will no longer be hers. Come here. I want to feel you before you are allowed to dance. Keep in mind that if you are disobedient, you and both other girls will regret it."
"I swear obedience, Master. I know that I will feel the whip at least three more times before I am sold in Amarrah. But I wish to feel it for only three times. And I love Marguerite as if she was family. I will bring no unneeded pain upon her, or upon that poor girl, Diana."
Khalid smirked. "Speaking of Diana, she was made to do certain things in here that shocked her virginal mind. You have been married for several years, and are a bolder girl, anyway, I think. I expect better from you."
"I will try to do better, Master. If I fail, make me begin anew. I want you to be fully satisfied with me, otherwise, before I even begin to dance for you and your guests. I will at all times strive to be graceful and pleasing in whatever you command of me. I do not wish to embarrass you by being a clumsy slave." She lowered her eyes humbly after flashing them admiringly at Khalid. She found herself blushing, half in shame and half in nubile female acknowledgement of the look that he gave her. It did make her feel gratified as a woman. And like a tramp...Veronica was glad that Marguerite had shared details of her former enslavement with her. It helped her to say the things that she had, having once shivered as her friend had told her phrases that she had been taught to utter, the way to say things as a trained bond girl would.
In the slave tent, Marguerite waited. It seemed forever before she heard the beat of Arab tribal drums, and knew that her friend was moving her body enchantingly before men. But until she heard those familiar drums, to the music of which she had herself often danced, she had no way of knowing what was happening to Vee.
Beyond the walls of the tent, she saw men drifting over to Khalid's quarters, to see her blonde companion dance. Good. That meant fewer here, to see or hear her and Diana.
But should she tell the Hardy girl what she had in mind? No, she was too naive. She would unconciously telegraph the expectation of something to the guards. Diana was sweet, but young, and not as sneaky as she herself was. Marguerite had a very good idea of what Veronica was enduring to buy her time. She would not risk a failure that might cause them all to suffer. Damn it, Roxton, she mused, where the hell are you when I need you?!"
"Guard?," she called, hesitantly, "Ali? Master, please come here. I need to pee!"
"There is nothing quite so exhilarating as to be shot at without effect." Sir Winston Churchill |
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971 Posts |
Posted - June 28 2008 : 4:48:26 PM
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Ali stuck his head in the tent. "Female slave, what is this? Can you not hold your urine until after your friend has to be chained next to you?"
"No," explained Marguerite. "We women are weaker than men, and we have less capacity. My need is upon me." She spoke in Arabic, for Ali's English was very limited. "Master, if you will lead me out to do what I must, the tent will not be soiled. And you can, of course, fondle me as you will. My spirit was broken this afternoon, when Veronica was whipped. I remembered all of my own whippings, and all I now aspire to is to be the perfect slave. I will be no trouble at all, and I will happily perform whatever intimate services that you demand of me."
She used her large, expressive green eyes to enchant him, making lust rise in him, despite his initial irritation. She managed to look much in need of his mercy, and he reflected on how Khalid would feel if this slut soiled the tent. He, too, would have to smell the mess when he entered to remove girls.
He consented and unchained her legs. She convinced him to unchain her ankles, so that she could don her boots. "We Western women lead pampered lives, especially those of us in the nobility. My feet cannot walk on this ground. There are rocks and thorns, and Khalid will become angry if I cut my foot and it becomes infected."
He knew this to be true, and shrugged, putting on her boots. All of her other clothing had been left in the safari camp, save for her lacy white panties. She knew better than to ask for these, although they were in the tent.
Ali helped her to rise after the boots were on, and the other guard held the tent flap as a leashed Marguerite was taken out.
"I have to go when she gets back," called Diana, to the guards' disgust. This was not a side of women that they relished dealing with.
"Just take a bush out of the wall, and Diana and I can go on the other side, just far enough out that the smell isn't noticed. Khalid need never know, if that is a factor."
Ali wasn't sure what Khalid wanted, and he wasn't about to interrupt him as the blonde wench danced. He resented being told to stay with the remaining girls, but Khalid had promised that he and Selim, the other guard, would see all three girls perform by firelight the next night. They would unpack cymbals and give Marguerite finger bells to enhance her performance.
He pulled aside a large thornbush in the boma, and led Marguerite through.
"There is nothing quite so exhilarating as to be shot at without effect." Sir Winston Churchill |
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971 Posts |
Posted - June 28 2008 : 5:30:21 PM
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He took her some 50 feet on the other side of the fence and told her to get on with it. He was torn between watching to shame her, and being revulsed by it.
"I need my cuffs off for a few moments, and I'd appreciate it if you'd turn your back. I am English, and I am a shy slave."
"Pee with the cuffs on," he snapped.
"But, Ali, Master, I am a woman. We do things differently. At least, cuff my wrists in front. But it is best if my hands are free."
Ali decided that this was more than he wanted to see, or know about. His culture taught that women are basically unclean, anyway, best used for sex and cleaning and rearing children.
He shook his head in disgust, but had her turn and removed the Irish 8 cuffs.
Marguerite thanked him and he leashed her to the low limb of a nearby tree before walking off for a little distance. He snapped the cuff unit open and closed in his impatience.
Marguerite did what she had said that she would, and called out that she was finished. She walked over toward Ali, then stopped, crying out that she either had a thorn in her boot or had been stung by a scorpion.
She knew that Ali had a flashlight, and asked him to let her take the boot off while he looked into it.
"This hurts. I'm afraid that it was a scorpion. We forgot to check my boots."
He gestured for her to sit on a large rock and told her to put her hands on her head. He took out the flashlight and pulled off her right boot.
As he leaned forward, Marguerite sprang up and kneed him in the groin. He sprang back, in pain, and she followed up by striking him just below the back edge of his jaw with her elbow, into his neck.
He dropped, and she was immediately onto the knife sheathed in his belt. She knew the type well, an Arab jambiya. As he struggled for conciousness, she deftly cut his throat, and stabbed into the large artery running through the top of his shoulder. Both Veronica and Finn had told her that this big artery, if severed, would cause rapid loss of conciousness and subsequent death. Once it was cut, there was probably no hope of saving the victim. Challenger had confirmed this, and told her that it was an unladylike question, but knowledge that she might find useful. She had just found it to be useful, indeed!
Although horrified by what she had done, Marguerite was desperate. If she reached Amarrah, there was an excellent chance that she would be tortured to death.
She took the dead Arab's gun belt, and wiped the jambiya blade on his robe before sheathing it. She might well have need of a knife as she struggled to survive in this wilderness.
She knew that she should flee at once, but the concern that she felt for poor Diana nagged at her. Besides, she hadn't liked the way that Selim had looked at the girls, and he had helped Ahmed to whip Veronica. He was the one who had tied her legs open, leering at her in the process. Marguerite wanted to kill him for that.
Torn by the conflict between fleeing and helping Miss Hardy, Marguerite realized that she needed the water bottles in the tent. And it would be nice to put on her panties and grab a couple of blankets. And Diana would be much valued female companionship as they fled...
"There is nothing quite so exhilarating as to be shot at without effect." Sir Winston Churchill |
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Explorer
971 Posts |
Posted - June 28 2008 : 6:14:51 PM
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Examining the gun, she saw that was a Webley MK V .455 service revolver. The holster was the Other Ranks (non - Officer) sort issued to NCO's, Military Police, trumpeters, and other enlisted men and NCO''s in the British Army who were allowed to carry a revolver. It had quite probably been stolen from Crown Stores (supply depot) or captured in the late war. Good. Back now in proper British hands.
The ammunition was a mix of regular MK II round-nosed lead bullets and flat- nosed Manstopper bullets. It was loaded with the latter. She remembered now that it was Ali who had shot the African "boy" in camp as he tried to help against the slavers. No wonder that he had dropped so quickly, for this flat- pointed bullet transmitted its energy well, and it had the mass to penetrate deeply at close range. It had been designed to stop fanatic Afghan tribesmen before they could reach a British soldier with their long Khyber knives or swords. There were the expected six cartridges in the revolver's cylinder, and another 24 in loops in the belt. Not much ammunition if she got into a protracted fight, but she could not allow that to happen, anyway. They would be too outnumbered.
She stashed the gunbelt near Ali's body and held her hands behind her, as if Ali had fastened them with the wrists parallel again, with the cuff unit being applied vertically. This gave her a little better chance of hiding the gun behind her slim, attractive body.
Selim called out, wanting to know what was keeping them. "We're coming!" she replied and walked through the gap in the fence.
Selim stood by the tent, looking unhappy at the delay.
"Master, I'm sorry: I really needed to go. I had been holding it for hours. And I thought I' d been stung by a scorpion. But Ali's flashlight showed that it was only a thorn. I am sorry to be so long. Ali says that after Diana has peed, we girls must do whatever you men wish of us for having inconvenienced you. I would be pleased to pleasure you as you choose, and I will coach Diana, who is a virgin. Please forgive us this trouble?" She looked anxiously at him, eager to be forgiven any anger that she had caused.
He looked sharply at her. "Where is Ali? And why are your hands cufffed up higher on your back? "
"Master Selim, Ali is relieving himself. He said that he might as well, given the circumstances. After you chain me, he said to send out Diana. And my hands are this way because he wants them thus, while I kneel before him in a moment and take his member in my mouth. He says that cuffing me like this makes me look better as I do that." She managed to blush convincingly.
"You had better chain my feet and send Diana along. She has to go pretty badly. We girls were talking about it."
Selim glowered, but jerked a thumb toward the tent. Marguerite bowed her head submissively, nodded, and moved toward him. She saw a man pass in the distance, but he was intent on reaching the tent where the drums still beat, to see the naked blonde slave dance. He did not look her way.
Just as they entered the tent, Marguerite brought out the Webley and stuck it into Selim's gut. "You slimy Arab bastard, get those chains off of Miss Hardy's feet or I'll kill you where you stand!"
Selim was astonished, but grabbed for the gun, and there was a struggle. Diana had enough slack in her leg irons and the chain from them to the heavy iron ball that she was able to trip Selim, and Marguerite hit him on the head with her gun. She did this three times before he fell, dazed. At once, she had his knife out and into his carotid artery, rolling him so that the spurt of blood wouldn't reach Diana.
"There is nothing quite so exhilarating as to be shot at without effect." Sir Winston Churchill |
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Explorer
971 Posts |
Posted - June 28 2008 : 6:42:32 PM
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Diana was aghast. "Oh, Marguerite! You are so brave! Where is Ali? How did you get his gun? What about Veronica? Is Selim dead?" These questions were fired as rapidly as bullets from a Vickers machine gun, and were precisely what Marguerite had expected her to ask.
She was frantically searching Selim's body for keys. "Diana, shut up, and tell me where this creep put his keys. We need to get out of here really fast. I'll tell you everything when we get past the hole in the fence. Before someone sees it, hopefully." She was unable to replace the bush in the fence, for she had needed to seem handcuffed, and Diana was still expected to go out that way.
"Aha!" Marguerite had found the keys and she hastily unlocked Diana's leg irons. There was no need to bother with the connecting chain to the iron ball. "Get up, and let me have your hands, fast!"
But none of the keys fit Diana's handcuffs, which were not the Irish 8 type that had been used on the former Treehouse girls. They looked like normal American style police cuffs, except that there was only one chain link between the bracelets, instead of the usual two or three. And the link was fastened to her chain belt by a small but tough lock!
"Oh," remembered Diana. "Khalid cuffed me. He probably has the only keys! What shall we do?"
Marguerite didn't panic. "I'll help you get your boots on. I want my pretty little knickers, and a couple of blankets, and the water bottles. Then, we are leaving this place as fast as we can. We have to get lost in the night before someone comes! I'll think of something to do about your hands later. Or, the police can unlock those things."
"You want me to meet the police naked, with my hands locked behind me! My reputation will be absolutely destroyed! What if Stuart sees me this way?!"
"That, Diana, is a trifling consideration just now," answered her companion, frantically pulling on the other girl's boots. "Anyway, it has been my experience that men find the sight of a handcuffed nude woman very arousing. The coppers and Stuart will probably admire you that way." A thought came to her, but she saved it for later. Still, she smiled at it. Diana just thought that Marguerite found it funny how men would react to her condition. But it was something else, as she would eventually learn.
Getting Selim's gunbelt, and the other items, they ran for the fence, after checking to see that no one was watching. Marguerite made Diana carry the water bottles by their straps, and she took the other things.
"What about Veronica?" Diana was frightened for their friend, who would probably be punished for their escape.
"Can't help her now, and I've gone half mad trying to think of a way. There are just too many of them to try to take her by force. We'll have to send help. But I know which way camp was, and my friends will be coming after us."
She pushed Diana through the gap in the fence, used the bush to brush out their footprints from the tent, and put the bush back into the fence. "Come on, Diana! We need to disappear, fast!"
"There is nothing quite so exhilarating as to be shot at without effect." Sir Winston Churchill |
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Explorer
971 Posts |
Posted - June 29 2008 : 04:05:13 AM
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Recovering the other dead slaver's gun belt and knife, Marguerite cut a small bush and led Diana into the night, away from the camp.
She used the bush to erase their trail as well as she could. A skilled tracker would find it in daylight, but that was hours off, and if they got away for now, they might find rocky ground where a trail would be lost. And Khalid and his minions could spare only so much time to look for them. He must know that a pursuit would be organized by now.
"There is nothing quite so exhilarating as to be shot at without effect." Sir Winston Churchill |
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Explorer
971 Posts |
Posted - June 29 2008 : 06:57:26 AM
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After some additional fifteen minutes, Khalid signalled to Veronica to cease dancing and to come to him. When she did, he handed her a wet cloth and told her to wipe herself down. When she had, he fastened her wrists behind her again in the Irish 8 cuffs. They were applied the normal way, except that he made her turn her wrists back-to-back so that she was more tightly confined in the bracelets than if her hands were held with the insides of the wrists facing. Then, her leg irons were locked to her ankles and he had her kneel in front of him.
She dreaded where this was leading, but he asked no sexual services of her. Instead,Khalid looked to each side of him, and his men there grinned back. Obviously, they had planned the next step.
"Veronica, you will choose the next girl to dance for us. All three of you will perform by firelight, and we will give Marguerite finger bells and we will play cymbals and flutes as well as drums. You will each be very beautiful. But tell me truly, can Diana move well enough, or do Marguerite or you need to train her before she performs? If she is too gawky, she will be punished. Speak!"
"Master, please let both Marguerite and I teach her before she dances for record. You can all watch us show her good moves. Unless she is a fool, she will strive to learn. She saw me whipped, and she won't be eager to be the next girl who displeases you. But it will take some time before we have her dancing really well. I needed over a month before I didn't feel awkward or silly. But she walks well, and she is scared. She will do her best. But Marguerite should be the next to dance, or I will dance again before Diana does. Marguerite is our best, though."
"It is good," he pronounced. "Now, kiss my hand before I have you returned to your friends. Then, the guards will bring in Marguerite. I wish to interrogate her about some things before we sleep. If she is submissive, when she is returned to the slave tent, you girls can sleep with your hands locked in front, in an arangement like Diana's. Her hands can be moved in front. This will let you rest far better. Also, I will send you some fruit and candy, for you have danced well. The other girls will be told that you earned them their treats. You have pleased me, girl. Continue to do so, and things will go as easily as I am prepared to allow. But you must all learn the basic things before you arrive in Amarrah. Understand?"
"Yes, Master," Veronica said, with her eyes downcast. She was becoming forlorn, wondering whether their friends had any idea at all of where they were. What if she was doomed to serve the Sultan like Marguerite had? She had never dreamed of anything that bizarre when Marguerite had told her and Finn of her slave life several years ago. Fate was so strange. And to think that I criticized her for doing what she had to...
"There is nothing quite so exhilarating as to be shot at without effect." Sir Winston Churchill |
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Explorer
971 Posts |
Posted - June 29 2008 : 08:58:01 AM
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They led Veronica out on her light chain leash, but were only halfway to the slave tent when a man rushed out of it, shouting for Khalid.
"What, Amal?" that worthy demanded. "What is the fuss?"
"Effendi, I went to demand that Ali pay me the money that he borrowed last month, and he is gone. Selim lies dead in the tent, a knife wound in the top of his shoulder. And the girls' boots are gone, and the water and blankets. They have escaped, or been taken!"
Khalid and Ahmed rushed to confirm this news. It was as Amal had said. He noted that Marguerite's panties were also gone, suggesting that she had taken them. A raider might not have thought to get them, but she would...and Selim's Luger pistol and his knife were gone, too.
Khalid was furious. "Ahmed, take Veronica to my tent and chain her there to this iron ball. Fasten her sitting with her ankle chains locked to the ball, and lock her leash to the ball also, shortly enough that she has to lean over deeply as she sits. Then, blindfold and gag her. Leave two guards with her."
"Take ten men then, and guard the African girls and the ivory. The rest of us will arm ourselves and search the compound before we do anything else. If whoever did this is within our boma, we need to know at once. Also, check the perimeter for tracks of anyone who may have left. If someone rescued these girls, their footprints should tell us who. Those damned white hunters and their clients haven't had time to reach us. And if it was the police or soldiers, they would be calling for us to surrender. The hunters would also not have left Veronica unrescued. Hasten! We must know the extent of our peril! Native warriors may be behind this!"
He bitterly contemplated what he would have to tell the Sultan if he could not recover the missing women, And if they were truly gone, thousands of pounds value in gold was also gone, as far as he was concerned. Perhaps the angry Sultan would no longer buy even Veronica. He wondered what someone else would pay for her, if she had to be sold on an auction block. Probably not the amount that the Sultan had offered...
"There is nothing quite so exhilarating as to be shot at without effect." Sir Winston Churchill |
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