Chapter twelve

The slavers` hideout turned out to be a veritable palace. The Sergeant managed to confiscate the gold and money, but the men found enough jewelry, silver cutlery or other precious things, so when they left for Muscat, they looked as if they came back from a ransacking raid. None of them really thought about the stranger that had given them the advice how they could take the fortress without losses.

Kazeem watched the caravan disappear. The slave traders had to walk, but he could see that Arthur had been given a horse. Obviously, they had indeed considered the blonde Englishman, covered with bruises, an innocent prisoner.

He decided to leave the place in the stables where he had hidden for the last two hours, on the loft crouched behind a hay bale. Now, he would have the fortress for himself.

»Mph!«

Nadima looked up at him with her big eyes. He had carried the unconscious girl to his hideout and tied her up simply, but effectively by putting her into a hogtie. She had her mouth stuffed full with some cloth and another one tied tightly between her lips. When she had awaken from her unconsciousness, he had held her in a vice grip and threatened her with his knife to prevent her from uttering a sound.

Now, Kazeem tied a noose around her neck and used the other hand as a leash. Then, he cut the girl`s ankles loose. After some staggering, she managed to get on her feet and he assisted her in climbing down the stairs after him.

The court still showed the signs of the soldiers` search for both valuables and hidden slavers, but when he hissed, he heard the sound of hooves and felt relief; when he had entered the fortress, he had let his horse go and for a while, he had feared that the soldiers had taken it with them. But obviously, the precious horses of the slave traders had been of more interest than the plain one they had given to the ominous informant, as a compensation for his valuable advice.

»Otherwise, we would have had to walk back to Muscat!«

He gave the leash a sharp tug, causing Nadima to stumble. She moaned, but Kazeem would not again fall for her innocent look and her seemingly frightened eyes. Pulling her behind him, he brought her inside.

»On your knees!«

Nadima obeyed and sat upright, emphasizing her ample breasts. Kazeem involuntarily licked his lips. Then, he shook his head and began to cut several lengths from a coiled rope he had brought with him.

»Time to get you wrapped up for you Master!«

For a moment, Kazeem considered not to get the girl back to Pettigrew. He had done enough for the man and besides, it still was a bit dangerous for him to visit Muscat. But on the other hand, what should he do with Nadima? The slavers, at least in this area, had been caught and keeping her himself-

He let his eyes wander over her body and though the Black didn`t show the slightest resemblance, he had to think of Linda – Linda that now was somewhere in the great desert, perhaps serving the will of some Sheikh at the moment. And somehow, Kazeem knew that he could not focus on another girl as long as Linda wasn`t in his hands.

At that moment, he heard the sound of an approaching horse. Before Nadima could react, Kazeem had the knife on her throat and pulled her with him, sneaking towards the window.

What he had heard hadn`t been a horse, but a dromedary. On it, a man in the typical outfit of a Bedouin was sitting, a rifle in his hand and obviously surprised about what had happened. Then, a second rider entered through the shattered gate.

Kazeem knew that they would find him anyway if they would search this place. At least, he would not be able to hide together with his captive. So, he decided to escape to the front.

»Salam aleikum!«, he said, stepping from his cover. The two Bedouins aimed at him, but Kazeem held up his empty right hand and smiled. For a while, they stared at each other. Then, the taller of the men said:

»Aleikumu salam, stranger! What are you doing here?«

»The British took the fortress«, he said. Then, he pulled on the leash, forcing Nadima to stumble into view.

»I am just collecting some – leftovers!«

Even from the distance, Kazeem could see that the Bedouins seemed a bit puzzled. Well, doing the unexpected could always be a good idea.

»The Master of this fortress was our employer, stranger! So, actually all this belongs to us! Including all the – leftovers! In fact, I am quite sure I have seen this girl before!«

Kazeem wasn`t surprised. Sure, Nadima had been here for some time, before the slavers` boss had sent her on her spying mission to Muscat. However, he doubted that these Bedouins considered her as a comrade.

»Well, the British now know who she really is. Or, to be accurate, the man she lived with knows it. And he is waiting for me to get her back to him. That is – if you are not interested in my plan instead!«

He looked at the two men, trying to look as confident as he could. They could come to the conclusion that they could also develop their own plans, starting by killing him. After some time, the taller one lowered his gun and jumped from his dromedary.

»I am Yusuf, and this«, he pointed at his comrade, »is Mahmud. Let`s for one moment assume that we are interested in listening to your plan!«

»Well, if you have listened to me, you still can do as you please!«, Kazeem said and smiled.

***

»That`s not what I had in mind when I demanded equal rights for women!«, Emily moaned. Linda knew that she was not really angry and smiled:

»At least, you now have something to write about: my life as a member of the Desert Patrol!«

The Captain had promised to take her and Emily to Aden, which meant a riding trip of some three weeks. Both had been equipped with reserve uniforms that felt more than strange to wear. The soldiers seemed to consider them as some kind of pretty mascots and treated them with a mixture of courtesy and mild mockery.

Linda shifted her position in the saddle. For the first time in months, she was thinking of the future that lay ahead of her. Looking at Emily, she thought that this future could be strange, perhaps difficult – but also exciting.

***

Arnold Pettigrew knew that he should feel proud and happy, but now, he just felt tired. It had been some 20 hours since Kazeem had awaken him from his drunken sleep and since then, he had repeatedly told his fake story about his secret informant who had given him all these valid information that had led to the success against the slave traders.

Not only had they conquered the hideout, they had also confiscated a huge sum of money and also taken ten men prisoner. These were all too eager to show cooperation to minimize their punishment. Pettigrew knew that they would still face a few years of hard labor, but perhaps, they could fight the slave trade around Muscat at all, using the information from the captured slavers.

The Governor had told Pettigrew that he would write a letter to the King and already promised to make him his second-in-command. In fact, it was not a powerful position, but a very prestigious one. It would allow Pettigrew to wear a bright red parade uniform and everyone would have to address him as »Sir Arnold«, though this was just courtesy and not an official title.

The best thing would be that he could leave his small house and live in the Governor`s palace now. He walked through the narrow street where he lived, thinking that it could be the last time his boots would be in contact with the dirt and dust here.

When he entered his house, Pettigrew wasn`t surprised that someone was sitting in one of his garden chairs. However, when the man rose, he saw it wasn`t Kazeem, but a younger man, obviously an Arab. He was wearing a sword and a revolver, but he put his hands together and bowed towards Pettigrew.

»Salam aleikum, Sir Arnold!«

So, the news had travelled fast. He smiled a bit wryly and answered:

»Aleikumu salam, eh – who are you?«

»I am a friend of Kazeem. He had to leave, but he sent me to get you something that belongs to you! I took the liberty to arrange it for you – in your bedroom!«

Again, he bowed, and before Pettigrew had fully understood the situation, he had disappeared. The newly made Sir Arnold panted and shook his head – then, he stormed up the stairs to his bedroom.

When he opened the door, his jaw dropped. Nadima was lying there, staring at him over her gag that covered her lower face. A broad leather band had been tightly bound over a scarf that also gagged her and the way her cheeks bulged told Pettigrew that the girl`s mouth had been stuffed to the bursting.

Nadima`s wrists were bound behind her back and from the way she thrust out her boobs, her elbows were also. Another scarf was tied around her neck, tying it to the bedframe, and her legs had been bent to the upper bedposts, forcing the girl to lie there with spread thighs through which she looked at him anxiously. Her nude body was glistering from some sweet smelling oil she had been creamed with and she let out a small moan.

Pettigrew, however, was occupied by the scarves that had been tied around her waist and pulled tightly between her legs. The ends had been knotted to a bow tie and fixed to it was a sign, saying:

»Congratulation, Sir Arnold!«

For some moments, Pettigrew just stared at the woman he had thought had answered his feelings. He now knew that she had betrayed him, but that didn`t mean that he suddenly thought she was ugly. A smile formed on his face – a smile that caused the helpless Nadima to squeal.

»Nice of you to come back to me, Nadima! However, I have to tell you things have changed since we saw the last time! Now, I am a Vice Governor – and you are a former spy, an accomplice of criminals!«

Nadima stared at him, trying to find out whether he was really angry or just enjoying his might and her helplessness. Pettigrew slowly took off his jacket.

»So far, nobody knows about you and your collaboration with the slavers – but this may change if I think you are not deserving my clemency! There`s always room for one more person in the prison!«

Nadima gulped. The prison of Muscat did not have single cells, but all criminals were put together in one big room – not quite the place for a pretty young woman to be! She decided not to give Pettigrew a reason to send her there.

»If you behave, not very much will change for you. You will come with me to the palace and officially, you will be my housemaid. That means you will have to do some housework, but in the nights, everything will be as it was!«

He now unbuttoned his trousers and soon, he was standing in front of the bed, naked and with a grin on his face.

»So, let`s see if anything has changed since I have been there last!«

He started to work on the knots of the scarf tied between her legs – but suddenly, he grabbed it and lifted her butt from the bed, causing Nadima to mew into her gag.

»But before, I have to punish you for the time you have betrayed me! All these weeks! I have counted, it has been 173 days altogether!«

With his free hand, he slapped her buttocks and Nadima moaned. The spanking made her buttocks prickle, but Pettigrew was neither strong nor persistent and so, it would be more humiliating than painful, even if he decided to give her all 173 slaps at once. She also didn`t fear that he would sleep with her after her punishment. Pettigrew wasn`t a brute and besides, he never needed long and between two acts, there was usually a recreation period of two or three days.

What concerned her, however, was the plan Kazeem and the two Bedouins had developed, after they had trussed her up, tying her from head to toe. They had found some old discarded knickers in a corner and had stuffed them into her mouth, tying a scarf between her lips, so tight it cut into the corners of her mouth. Above, another scarf had been tied, followed by a moistened leather strap that now had dried, compressing her gag and forcing her to bite down on the dreadful knickers, swallowing her saliva, mixed with other juices.

The plan had been rather simple: the Bedouins wanted to continue their criminal career and Nadima should send them information from the Governor`s palace, just as she had done before. However, the problem was that now, Pettigrew knew who she really was and would be careful not to end up in prison.

But just doing nothing wasn`t an option either. The two men had told her that, if she wouldn`t deliver sufficient information, they would kidnap her and sell her to someone whose nickname was »The Bloody Whip«. Nadima had no idea whether this had been just an invention to frighten her. But she did not intend to find it out!

She writhed and moaned as another slap hit her buttocks. Pettigrew was breathing heavily now and his strength had already begun to decrease. But Nadima didn`t frolic. In the chess game of life, she had been reduced to be just a pawn, a simple peasant. And the way up to become the Black Lady again seemed terribly long and steep – with deep abysses on both sides of the path, one meaning imprisonment and the other one an even worse fate.

***

»The Bloody Whip, eh? Really, Mahmud, you should sit in the bazar and tell hair-raising stories to children!«

Yusuf and Mahmud were riding towards the mountains, heading for the desert again. Like Ahmed, they had both made some money and they had no concrete plans what to do next. They had told Nadima a story about them continuing their criminal career, but if they would do so, it would be far from Muscat.

Grinning, Yusuf remembered how Mahmud had told the girl what would happen to her if she refused to provide them with information from the Colonial Office. They would abduct her and sell her to the ›Bloody Whip‹, the most blood-thirsty Sheikh in the desert who had his slaves beheaded if they stepped on his shadow. Yusuf had had to bite down a laugh when Mahmud had told Nadima about this terrible man, exaggerating more than just a bit. But the naked, bound and gagged girl seemed to have believed him.

He smiled and thought of Kazeem, that strange man from the East, who had had the idea of telling Nadima such a fake story. Sooner or later, the girl would realize that nobody was after her, but until then, she would twitch on every sudden noise in the house and every night, she would be afraid to be woken up by a hand clamping her mouth shut.

***

Three weeks later, the Desert Patrol reached Aden, the old turbulent city at the gate to the Red Sea. Here, Linda and Emily were brought to the main garrison. The massive building had been a prison before and looked it, but they were given two of the small, but clean officer`s chambers and the commander, a Colonel Smith, even found a female servant that spoke enough English to take care of the women`s well-being.

So, the next hours, Linda had spent washing her hair and body. The servant had brought her European clothes, even managed to get her some underwear, together with soap and perfume. Linda smiled at the expression on the woman`s face when she had asked for a razor, too, but she had brought the desired. During her time in the palace of Kandahar, Linda had got used to remove her body hair and so, she had shaved her legs, armpits and also her pubic mound.

»I wonder if Emily is doing the same, just right now, one room away from me!«

Thinking about the pretty redhead meant that creaming her middle after shaving took a bit longer and she hoped that the perfume would hide the specific fragrance.

»Oh Ginger, what will it be with us?«, she thought.

Some hour later, a soldier brought her and Emily, now both fully dressed, to the office of Colonel Smith. He rose from his chair and seemed to admire the two women that now looked like Ladies and not like tramps anymore. Then, he showed them two envelopes.

»Ladies, I am glad that I can tell you we could arrange a decent passage for you back to Europe! Tomorrow, the ›Sparrow‹ will cast off, heading for Suez. From there, you can easily get a passage to Cairo where you may find ships to nearly everywhere in the Mediterranean. Since the raid against the Arabs has been quite a success, we can also provide you with some money for your save return, Miss, eh – blimey, I have been so busy arranging everything that I completely forgot to ask about your names!«

Colonel Smith smiled apologetically. Linda dropped a curtsy, smiled and said:

»Fräulein Linda Dellert – or rather ›Miss‹, if that`s easier for you to spell, Colonel!«

»Frollein Dellert«, Smith said with a funny accent and kissed her hand. Then, he turned to Emily who also curtseyed, smiling gracefully and even gathering up the skirt of her dress a bit, as if to prove that she had good manners, too.

»I am Miss Emily Starling.«

The smile on Colonel Smith`s face froze. Looking at Emily with disbelief, he asked:

»Emily Starling? Are you writing for the ›Modern Women`s Gazette‹?«

»Well – yes!«, Emily answered, still smiling but seeming a little insecure now. Colonel Smith now turned away from them and spoke, as if he was talking to the wall:

»You wrote an interesting article about the place of women in society – where they are now and where they should be!«

»So – you`ve read it?«, Emily asked, waiting for another complaint by a man who considered equal rights for women a lunatic`s idea. However, Smith kept his back turned towards them as he continued:

»My wife did so. And she was quite intrigued by what you had written, Miss Starling. So intrigued that we quarreled. We quarreled a lot, Miss Starling! Three months ago, I had a lucky marriage, but now, my wife has left me and is thinking of a divorce – thanks to you, Miss Starling!«

He spun around and for a moment, it seemed that he wanted to beat Emily. Instinctively, Linda jumped close to her and protectively put an arm around Emily. Smith panted heavily, but then, a sardonic smile appeared on his face:

»Tomorrow morning, in about 16 hours, your ship will cast off. But before, I demand an apology!«

Linda reached for Emily`s hand and pressed it, but the redhead looked up to the Colonel and spat:

»If your marriage stopped to be happy as soon as your wife started to have her own ideas – well, perhaps it hasn`t been that lucky! Maybe, you are just a bad husband and I just helped your ex-wife to find out!«

Now, Smith looked as if she had slapped his face. Then, he went for the door and yelled an order. Turning back to the girls, he groaned:

»You will regret that, Miss Starling! And maybe, I should teach you – friend a lesson, too!«

Now, two tall, bulky soldiers entered the office. Smith whispered something into one of the man`s ear, then, he left. The soldier grinned and said:

»So, you two have upset Old Leatherface? Bad idea, I can say that!«

Both Emily and Linda tried to say something, but he just drew his revolver and looked at them in a way that made them fall silent. His comrade left, only to come back a little later, carrying some things that made Linda`s eyes widen.

»You- you can`t-«

But the men could – and did. Both girls got their wrists cuffed behind their backs and then, each got a big leather ball pressed into her mouth. These gags were secured by several straps that were buckled tightly, causing the girls to moan with pain and rage.

Now, the two men grabbed their arms and dragged them along the corridor and down several stairs, until they were in the cellar where they were pushed through an iron door.

»Nnggg!«

»Mmhhmph!«

The room, dimly lit by the little light that came through a barred window near the ceiling, was a veritable torture chamber. Linda looked for the door, but the soldier now closed it and turned the key whilst his comrade lit an oil lamp. Then, they untied the girls`wrists.

»Now, remove your dresses, Ladies!«

Moaning with protest, both shook their heads, but the soldier just shrugged:

»It`s your choice – but maybe, you want to look decent if we send you on the ship tomorrow morning! If you prefer to leave in rags-«

It wasn`t an easy choice, but finally, Linda removed her dress, standing there in a corset and a white chemise that hid her knickers and the garter belt. She sighed with relief when the men did not want her to go further. One of them even draped her dress neatly over what looked like a torture rack. Emily, however, refused to remove any clothes. They retied Linda`s wrists, then turned back to Emily again.

»All right, let`s get you prepared for Old Leatherface!«

Grabbing Emily`s wrists, they dragged her to a vertical board that stood on two posts. It had three holes in it and could be opened by a hinge.

»A pillory!«, Linda thought with a shudder and indeed, they forced Emily to put her head and hands into the openings. Then, they closed the board and locked it and Emily was standing there, bent forward and with her neck and wrists trapped in the pillory. She was fuming and moaning and Linda could see some drool drip from the corner of her mouth.

The men now took a stick and tied it to Emily`s ankles, forcing her to stand with her legs spread. Then, they turned over to Linda who had watched the trussing up of Emily with helpless fascination.

»The boys said that you are a good rider – well, now, you can prove it!«

The thing Linda was led to looked like the roof of a doghouse, albeit a very steep one. It reached up to her hips and one of the soldiers joked:

»They call this a ›Spanish Horse‹. And now, we are Englishmen, using it on a German in Arabia!«

Linda could not join their amusement, especially when they told her to mount the Spanish Horse. Reluctantly, she obeyed, though it meant that her underskirt slipped upwards, exposing the lacy tops of her stockings and the garters. This, however, was a minor discomfort, compared to the inconvenience of sitting atop of the steep roof. Linda found out that only if she pressed her thighs against the wood and stretched her legs, her thinly covered middle did not touch the top.

However, the men now grabbed her ankles and forced her to spread her legs to the sides until her labia painfully rested on the top edge of the Spanish Horse. Then, they tied her feet to a spreader bar, forcing her to keep the uncomfortable position.

One of the men then took a leather rope and threaded it through the strap of her gag that ran over the top of her head. Then, he knotted it off to a ceiling hook, forcing Linda to sit upright.

»At least, you have impeccable posture!«, one of them joked. The men, however, seemed to have strict orders from »Old Leatherface«, for they didn`t take further advantages of their helplessness. Instead, they left the dungeon, but shortly after, Colonel Smith entered. Under his arm, he had a rolled newspaper.

»Now, I have once again read your article and it still doesn`t convince me that it was me who did wrong! So, it`s you who ruined my marriage, Miss Starling! I still want an apology!«

With a furious groan, Emily vigorously shook her head. Smith turned towards Linda who was shifting her hips and showed a strained expression. He took his pocket watch and hung it to a hook on the wall.

»Tomorrow at six a. m., you and your friend will be escorted aboard the ›Sparrow‹, but until then, it still is some twelve hours! Twelve very inconvenient hours if one has to spend them on a Spanish Horse! Don`t at least you think that I deserve an apology, Frollein Dellert?«

Linda looked at Emily who looked at her as if she wanted to say:

»Tell him what he wants to hear, then at least, you won`t have to suffer!«

Linda raised her chin and looked into the eyes of the Colonel. Then, she slowly shook her head. The man laughed:

»So, you prefer suffering together with your friend instead of agreeing that I am right?«

Linda nodded. Smith looked at her with a mixture of disbelieve, amusement and a slight admiration. Then, he stepped behind Emily and gathered her skirt and the underskirt, exposing her garter belt and her knickers. Then, he took the rolled newspaper and said:

»Really, Miss Starling, this article is an insult! Apologize to me!«

Again, Emily shook her head defiantly. Smith raised the arm holding the newspaper and slapped it on Emily`s buttocks. She let out a small grunt, more from embarrassment than from pain.

»Apologize to me!«

»Nnnggg!«

Again, Smith slapped her butt. Linda looked at Emily`s face and saw the determination in her eyes. And suddenly, she knew that she would persist, too. This man could torture them the whole night, but they would never give in!

Now, Emily`s green eyes met hers and now, the expression became softer, as if the redhead wanted to say:

»As long as we are together, nothing can break us!«

And Linda nodded slightly. She felt a tear run down her cheek, not from pain, but from love and compassion.

»We are standing together, Ginger – sitting won`t be possible for a while anyway!«

And she knew that the anticipation of being alone with Emily soon would help her to get through this last cruel night. Soon, all that would be over!

***

Kazeem took another sip from his coffee as he looked at the harbor. He still was not anticipating another boat trip, but he was afraid that he would have to do so once again.

He looked at the rather small steamer. From the distance, he couldn`t read the name written to the hull, but he knew it was »Sparrow«. Tomorrow, it would leave for Suez – most likely with Linda on board.

He had left Muscat the very day Yusuf and Mahmud had brought their special present to Pettigrew. Late in the night, he had reached the small village where Ben lived, glad to find both the black man and Omar there. They had told him that during the last morning, the British had arrested the corrupt policemen and obviously, nobody was after them.

Kazeem had waited for a message from Yusuf or Mahmud who had told him what had happened to Linda until they had lost her to Abbas` men. It took three days, but then, Mahmud had come and told him that Linda had been rescued by a British patrol and would be brought to Aden. The Bedouin also had a short message for Ben, consisting of a stray of fuzzy black hair and a short letter. It read:

»Dear Bebe, I hope that somebody will read this to you. I have Ahmed told what to write. I love you and soon, we will meet again. Yours, Samira.«

»Bebe?«, Omar had asked with a grin. Ben had grinned, too, but he also had had tears in his eyes.

»The nickname Samira gave me when we both were children. It`s a proof that this letter is really from her! She`s alive – and obviously, she`s well!«

He had begun to dance through the room, then, he had frowned:

»I wonder who that Ahmed is!«

Kazeem, however, had wondered about the little drawing under the note, showing a heart and in it a crown and two circles with points in it.

»What does that mean? Is it some kind of picture puzzle?«

»Maybe, it says ›Queen Boobs‹!«, Omar had joked and though he had pretended to be angry, soon, Ben had joined their laughter, too.

The next morning, Kazeem had left for Aden, arriving there three days before the Desert Patrol`s triumphant return. The story of the rescued damsels had made the round and it had been easy to get the information when the two women were expected to leave.

Again, he looked at the »Sparrow«, swaying on the waves. He thought by himself:

»Maybe, I should take a horse and ride along the shore. Or, I could take a faster boat and prepare a surprise welcome for her at Suez. Anyway, the game is still afoot, beloved Linda!«

The End