“I know what you are going to do,” Rannah said without accusation.
“Am I too cruel?”
“You could never be too cruel. But if I fail to scream do you intend to continue beating the sole of my foot?”
“What other way can I make you scream?”
“You could separate my feet and whip up inside them . . . perhaps I would scream.”
Again Stacie clasped the tied girl and held her tight and found her lips. Rannah was pivoting on one foot, her other raised invitingly and waiting, snared helpless for the cane. “You don’t have to scream, Rannah. I like you as you are.”
“I must scream. You must make me. It has to be that way.”
“How silly we are,” Stacie said sadly. “I love you.”
“You are weakening. Do it quickly. Now!”
Stacie found the cane and with all her recently acquired skill slashed the poor raised sole from toes to heel.
Rannah screamed. It sounded like the jubilation of release.
After that she screamed often. Stacie hurt her cleverly and cruelly and with female skill and cunning.
That night their love was as violent as their day, But, once more, Stacie Blair was handcuffed to the bed.
The plane coasted with little sound to the courtyard wall.
The two helicopters sank to earth within the courtyard itself. Within minutes the entire staff of Mohammad Yasin’s house was safely locked away or struck down senseless if they resisted, among these latter was Yousef. It was a very easy victory.
When the bedroom door was thrust violently open and the light switched on, Rannah and Stacie sat up in bed, startled from their sleep of repletion, both were naked. Blinking in the strong glare it was several moments before they recognized Hamid Boshan. He had gone military. His uniform indicated some sort of rank, his ribbons might have meant anything. His white-toothed smile was the easiest thing to recall.
“And so we meet again!” he exclaimed as though he had invented the phrase.
“Go away,” said Rannah. “Can’t you see we’ve got no clothes on.”
“Very lovely ladies,” Mr. Boshan acknowledged. “You come with me please.”
“It’s the middle of the night. We want to sleep. There’s a hotel in the town. Get out of here.”
Mr. Boshan sighed. Walking over to the bed he struck Rannah on her cheek knocking her sideways. He dragged her from the bed, pushed her on the floor and locked her wrists behind her back with handcuffs. He then turned his attention to Stacie.
“You are not trusted, eh,” he chuckled as he indicated her fettered hand. “The keys are all the same.” He unlocked the cuff from the bed, thrust her on her face and re-locked the metal band behind her back. His strength was prodigious, frightening. The two girls looked at each other askance. “In my country we deal properly with lesbians,” said Mr. Boshan. “Your cunts are made for men to fuck. You will find out.”
It happened too quickly for them to adjust. With their hands locked behind their backs they could not resist. Two soldiers appeared with guns. They were prodded from the room. “It is nice you have no clothes,” approved the officer in charge.
In the courtyard were three other naked girls. They too had their hands behind their backs. They were joined by a long chain and metal collars round their necks. Wendy, Jane and Suzie were as lost as was their former captor and her slave. It took but a minute to add Rannah and Stacie to the coffle. They shook their heads angrily at the confinement of their necks and their linkage with the other girls, but it was a beautifully simple arrangement. All five girls were neatly controlled. Where their leader went the others must follow. From somewhere Mr. Boshan had produced a longish riding crop, with a flash of white teeth he demonstrated its quality on Wendy’s rear. She gave a startled yelp.
“If you do not obey I whip you ’till you do,” he explained amiably. “We walk now to the plane. You make no noise if you please.”
So easy! It was infuriating. The machines employed may well have been the entire air strength of the emerging nation, but they sufficed to effect the efficient kidnapping of five naked girls. Within ten minutes all were airborne.
The girls sat on a long bench against the fuselage of the transport plane. They were quite helpless, any rebellious motion immediately snubbed their collars against their companions on the chain. It was best to keep still.
“My father will kill you,” said the daughter of Mohammad Yasin.
Mr. Boshan acknowledged the tribute to his importance. “Alas no. Your father is a reasonable man.”
“Where are you taking us?”
“Where else but to my country! Mr. Moghere will make good use of you.”
“You mean he’ll fuck us?” Stacie asked inelegantly. “You will be whipped for such impertinence,” Mr. Boshan said importantly. “But not here in the plane. We will do it properly.”
“You mean to tell us that black gorilla has used his damn Air Force to kidnap us all?” Jane demanded furiously.
Mr. Boshan sat very still, his teeth ceased to be on view.
“Gorilla? Our beloved leader?” His voice was cold.
All five girls cringed. They all approved the word, but not its consequences. “He is insane to do this thing!” Rannah affirmed.
Mr. Boshan’s teeth reappeared. “Five kidnapped girls will have disappeared. Who will know or care?” he asked pleasantly.
“Do we have to be chained together like cattle?” Stacie asked.
“It is the way your forefathers chained us not so long ago,” Hamid Boshan pointed out reasonably. “You but pay a debt.”
“What’s going to happen to us? What do you want us for?”
“Four of you will become Mr. Moghere’s handmaidens. One of you has a bargaining function.”
“We’re slaves?” Suzie laid it on the line.
“You are correctly concise,” the officer’s English was beyond criticism.
Five female heads turned back and forth to its fellows on the chain that made their common bond. Ten hands tugged at five handcuffs. “You will never be free again,”
Mr. Boshan explained helpfully. “You will be properly whipped for disobedience.”
The plane droned through the night.
They stood in a line before the King! How else could it be described! Stacie thought bitterly. Five naked girls joined by a chain and collars about their necks, their hands linked behind their backs, they stood for inspection before their conquerer.
“Five cunts all in a row,” intoned Mr. Moghere. No one spoke.
“That is what you are,” Mr. Moghere explained pleasantly.
“Cunts! You know the function of a cunt?” He looked up and down the line.
“You will answer when spoken to,” Mr. Boshan went down the line of female flesh, striking vigorously with the riding crop. “You will also address our Leader as ‘Sir’.”
“Yes, we know, Sir,” five female voices responded in pain. “Good!” Mr. Moghere surveyed his recent acquisitions with satisfaction. “If it were not that it would cheapen our association I would address you in no other way. Cunt! It is a most satisfying word. It is really all you are: slits in female flesh.” His eyes roved and settled on Rannah. “You have been remarkably whipped, I do not understand?”
“Need you understand! I have been whipped, that is enough,” Rannah’s voice was bitter and angry.
“Ah, but by whom?” Mr. Moghere’s eyes were alight with interest.
“I think, Sir, it is a lesbian indulgence,” Mr. Boshan dropped tentatively.
“So!” The Great Man’s eyes roved up and down the coffle.
“We will deal with lesbians. But I believe one among you mentioned the word gorilla?”
The silence was intense. No one but Mr. Boshan looked at Jane. Jane wept.