The Search 3

Reluctantly, yet not too reluctantly, Mira followed Milan through the corridor and up some stairs. He was holding her hand, but in a way she could have managed to get free and run away. Except for the ball gag, she wasn’t restrained, but of course, she was stark naked and had no idea where to go.

The house seemed to be neither a dungeon nor a brothel. Instead, it looked as if Milan was more or less a bookworm or scientist. And indeed, he led the girl into a room that definitely was a library. Mira realized she was a bit disappointed: this library did not look like that of some sorcerer or alchemist, but more like that of some scholar. The room was clean and kept in good order and the books looked – plain.

»If I were dressed and didn`t have that thing in my mouth, it would be almost a boring room tour!«

The only thing that looked strange was a huge object hidden under a cloth that looked like a narrow round table, some two yards in diameter. Milan closed the door behind them and Mira noticed he carefully locked it with a key he had on a chain around his neck – and that the door was quite heavy and had upholstered leather padding. Besides, the windows were big and with glass between the bars, but these bars also looked solid. She was trapped.

Milan let her go and pointed at one of the chairs.

»Please, sit down for the moment, Mira, but don`t touch your gag.«

He said it matter-of-factly, but the girl saw no point in resisting. So, she sat down and watched him take the cloth from the object. It was indeed a round podium, but placed on a central post that allowed it to be rotated. Mira saw that on it, a big pentagram had been painted, so the tips of the five jags touched the edge.

»Now, would you please lie down, so your head and limbs are close to the jags?«

Mira mmphed softly, but slowly rose from her seat and stepped towards the table. She felt a bit dizzy and somehow unable to resist the order. Milan smiled and explained:

»In your coffee, I put some herbs that ensure you are as obedient as needed. Don`t worry, the drug will soon wear off and it will leave no permanent damage.«

The girl`s eyes widened and she moaned again, but as he repeated his order, Mira climbed the table and lay down on her back. Milan now closed an upholstered iron cuff around her right wrist. It had a short chain on it and he used that to padlock the cuff to a small eyelet at the top of one of the pentagram`s jags. He repeated the procedure with her left hand and now, Mira had to remain on the table with her arms spread.

Using two more of the upholstered cuffs, he also tied her ankles. He pulled the slack from the chains and though the position wasn`t painful, Mira felt very vulnerable and could not help blushing as she had to keep her legs open, exposing her naked pussy.

Milan smiled down on her. Still, he seemed not as if he was intending to throw himself upon her. Perhaps, he was preserving her for some paying customers, Mira thought with a shudder.

»Are you scared, girl?«, he asked whilst gently caressing her hair. Mira arched her head to see his face and nodded, making a small sound.

»Well, I wish I could tell you that there is no reason for that, but unfortunately, I don`t know for sure either!«

Mira moaned, but Milan just buckled a broad soft leather band around her neck. A chain to the eyelet at the jag`s top ensured Mira now had to keep her head down and couldn`t move around much.

»You know, I am a scholar – a scholar of science. However, I am also interested in some areas of science others would call magic or witchcraft.«

Mira writhed in her bonds and moaned anxiously. She did not know much about such things, but being tied up naked and spread inside a pentagram spoke its own language. She involuntarily gasped when Milan held something in his hands; she almost expected him to hold a dagger, but instead, it was just a bottle.

»It`s just olive oil – pure olive oil from my kitchen.«

Milan held the bottle over Mira`s middle and poured some of it over her pubic mound and inner thighs. The girl squirmed and protested through her gag, though the liquid did no harm. The man corked the bottle and sat beside her, rolling up his sleeves.

»You must know that I am corresponding with another scholar – a young man from Hungary. He and I are interested in the same subject. He seems to have come to a break-through, but unfortunately, he wrote to me about it in Hungarian and I have only cursory knowledge of that language. So, I am not sure whether he said the experiment requires just a young woman – or a virgin.«

»Mhhmmph?«

Now, Milan smiled almost apologetically.

»I can see you are a girl, but there is no way of telling absolutely for sure whether you are a virgin. However, I can reduce the doubt to a minimum!«

He bent forward and placed his hands on her middle that was greased with the slippery oil.

»Now, relax, girl!«

***

Jelena still could not tell whether Goran was a nice man with a brutal attitude – or a brute with nice impulses. For two or three hours, she had now been sitting opposite to him, wedged between the pommel and his lap and his arms loosely around her.

Sometimes, he had grabbed her tight by her arm. Goran had done so to prevent her from sliding from the saddle, but also hissed at her to »sit straight for fuck`s sake!«. He had told her that on the steep path, he had to concentrate on the way and could not risk being distracted by a squirming girl.

Gagged as she was, Jelena had not been able to argue that he could either let her go or at least allow her to walk behind the horse. Instead, she had looked down at the rocky ground and decided that the saddle was indeed the better place.

Since they were riding uphill, gravity forced her to lean against Goran`s chest. She blinked at him nervously, as if she expected him to become angry at that distraction. However, he just grunted and suddenly, she felt his hand on her back. Jelena`s eyes widened as he tugged folds of her slip between her backside and the pommel, building an upholstery against the stiff leather plug. Then, as if he had forgotten it there, his hand rested on her lower back. Through the thin silk, the girl felt his rough skin and the strength of his grip.

»The hands of a warrior!«, she thought involuntarily. The smoothness of her flimsy dress made his hand rub over her back slightly and this sent little shivers through her body, though Goran had touched her more intimately already.

»Mph!«

Jelena had been leaning against his chest and of course, this had squeezed her breasts and made them grind over his lambs wool vest. It was not an unpleasant feeling and with a slight blush, Jelena realized that if she arched back, her nipples would pierce through her dress, hard and erect.

»Just a reaction to friction«, she thought when she felt another phenomenon; during the ride, she had relaxed a bit and slid closer to Goran. Now, she could feel his manhood in her lap and despite the leather trouser the man was wearing, she knew that he was not indifferent to her presence.

»A delimma!«

He had misspelled the word »dilemma«, but he had intended that he was torn back and forth between loyalty towards his men and his employer and – what was it? Sympathy for her? Lust? Even more?

Jelena looked up to his face. Goran hid his feelings behind a calm mask, but she could see that he was trying to oppress a slightly accelerated breath and that his hand seemed to hold her closer than necessary.

Jelena shifted her position and he looked down on her. For the fraction of a second, a smile appeared at the corner of his mouth, but then, he suddenly grabbed her scalp.

»For the last time, sit straight!«

»Perhaps, you should hand her to me?«

In the corner of her eyes, Jelena could see that one of the men had come close, looking at her in a way that made her feel more uneasy than Goran`s hand in her hair did. His grip was tight and he had scolded her, but somehow, she was sure he had done so only not to seem weak in front of his comrade.

»After all, my horse is less tired than yours – and you sure don`t want to keep the girl all for yourself?«

Goran now smiled at his comrade and said:

»Of course not! But I don`t think we should pause now, since there`s a well some mile ahead!«

The man grunted something and spurned his horse. Jelena felt Goran`s grip loosen in her hair and he even caressed her head a bit. Then, he bent her back and forced her to look at him. Jelena moaned and Goran seemed eager to say something friendly, but instead, his eyes wandered over her ample breasts. As she had sensed before, her nipples were hard and as his left let go her hair and touched her breast, she held still and just breathed flutteringly through her gag.

»It`s really a de- dilemma!«

He smiled, as if to tell her that he had learned the correct spelling now, but at the same time, his eyes expressed what he felt. Goran bent forward, forcing her lower back against the pommel, and his grip on her breast became harder, forcing Jelena to gasp.

»Does it hurt, Nelly?«

He had used her pet name and his voice sounded friendly, though the position and his fingers indeed felt a little painful. She looked at him and slightly, she nodded. Goran increased the pressure a little and whispered:

»Does it hurt so much you can`t stand it?«

With a small mew, Jelena shook her head, since she somehow knew he was not about to test her limits. Indeed he now pulled her close and placed a soft kiss on her forehead whilst his hand remained on her breast, but now just kneading her gently.

»Good! Because more, Mensud won`t dare to do to you when you`ll ride with him! Just close your eyes and think of me!«

He grinned, but then, he made his horse walk after his comrade.

***

»There we are, girls! I hope you`ve left some for me!«

Predrag had stopped the cart close to a small pond surrounded by bushes. The sun still was high and they could have made a few more miles, but he had decided to rest at the pond and get to Valjevo the next day. Since the road had not been easy, he had had to concentrate on steering the cart whilst Tabea and Bahira had  already started to drink from the wine hose.

In fact, both girls already were quite tipsy, since they hadn`t eaten much and the sun was burning down on them. In addition, Bahira had taught her new friend a Bosnian drinking game that had forced them both to take sips repeatedly.

So, whilst Predrag released the horse and led it to the water, they clumsily climbed from the cart, aiding each other to remain standing. Bahira brought the hose to her mouth, but then, she corked it and giggling, she leaned to the cart with one hand whilst she gathered her skirts with the other.

»Too little space for too much wine!«, she sighed and crouched, relieving her bladder just where she was. Tabea also had the urge to pee and she looked over to the pond where Predrag was standing.

»Don`t be shy, Tabby! He`s my brother!«

»Yeah, but not mine!«

In addition, her trousers did not cover her in a way a skirt would have done and so, she hid behind a rock before following nature. Peeling down her trousers and the panties, she crouched.

»I see you!«, a giggling Bahira yelled, peeping over the rock. Tabea shooed her away with a wave of her hand. Then, with a sigh, she relieved herself, looking at the place where she suspected Bahira to be with a mixture of amusement and slight embarrassment. Still squatting, she heard a step from behind.

»You are really a bit childish, my dear!«, Tabea said in a reprimanding tone. Then, she felt a firm grip in her neck. Before she could do or say something, a cold blade was pressed against her throat.

***

Mira bit down on the ball between her jaws as Milan dabbed her middle with a linen cloth. His examination of her virginity had been embarrassing, but at least, he had not been brutal and not touched her more than necessary – if one could say so if an inquest required that he pushed his fingers inside her.

»Unfortunately, the Hungarian hasn`t answered my letters for months now«, Milan now said as if this was a normal conversation, »I am afraid that he moved away. After all, what we are doing could be considered witchcraft.«

The girl mmphed and Milan now pointed to the ceiling. As Mira looked up, she could see that there was a round opening through which she could see the blue sky.

»Tomorrow night, the full moon will shine through this hole and when its rays touch your skin, we will see if it works – sending someone through time!«

The look in his eyes made Mira suddenly wish her kidnappers had sold her to a brothel instead.

***

Tabea looked from the two attackers to the horse still leashed to the cart and then to the men again, but saw that these two were both determined and unscrupulous. Once they had grabbed her, they had pulled her with them, always keeping a blade to her throat and a firm grip on her scalp. Tabea had managed to pull up her makeshift panties, but when she had stumbled with the men, she had had to step out of her trousers that had still been bunched around her ankles.

When Predrag had seen them holding Tabea, he had not hesitated but attacked them, wielding his whip. However, the thugs had not hesitated either: one of them, who had his left clawed into Tabea`s hair, had fired a small crossbow and sent him to the ground. Bahira had screamed and tried to run for her brother, but the men had stopped her. Since the one who had hit Predrag was holding a second crossbow and his comrade pressed his dagger against Tabea`s throat, causing her to gasp, Bahira had finally raised her hands, anxiously looking at her aching brother.

The man had let Tabea`s hair go, but whilst he approached Bahira, his accomplice kept the Black in a vice grip and so, she didn`t dare to try an escape. Taking some kind of lasso from his belt, he tied Bahira`s wrists in front of her belly. He had used the middle of the rope, leaving a few yards dangle on each side. Now, he took one end, brought it between the girl`s legs and stepped behind her. Tabea could see he was pulling the rope upwards, as Bahira`s skirts were split in two and she had to press her hands into her crotch. Then, her eyes widened and she pleaded as he tied the rope around her neck twice before tying it off. Now, if Bahira would try to raise her bound hands or moved too much, she would choke herself.

The men then tied Tabea the same way and she grimaced as the rope pressed on her crotch, only protected by the flimsy silk of her panties. Except for these, she only wore her breast cloth and a pair of light cloth shoes that did little to protect her soled from the gravel. The man knotted the rope tight, but after he had slung the rope around Tabea`s neck, his comrade said something in Croatian. The man smiled and reached for a thin cord. Then, he bent her thumbs together and tied them, pulling the rope tight before knotting them off. The wrist tie`s knots had been out of reach anyway, but now, getting free on her own account would be even more difficult.

They now made Tabea and Bahira stand side by side and one of them brought a stick of some two and a half yards in length. This was pushed between the girls` arms and their backs, forcing them to stand straight with their breasts thrust out. Bahira whimpered as her elbows were tied to the stick, but again, Tabea`s fate was worse.

Not only did the thug again use the thin cord, he also forced her elbows together before brutally tying them together and binding them to the stick. Now, the girl not only was even more restrained and helpless, she also had to thrust out her ample breasts even more than Bahira had to do.

The situation was interrupted by Predrag who moaned loudly. Bahira looked pleadingly at their captors.

»Please, my brother – he will die!«

»I promise you, you won`t see him die, girl!«

He looked at her, smiling slightly, and Bahira stared at him, her lips trembling and a glimpse of hope in her eyes. Then, however, the man`s smile turned into a grin as his comrade jumped from the cart, holding a bunch of cloths in his hand.

Bahira started to cry as they blindfolded her with a black cloth, but her protests were interrupted as another cloth was balled up and stuffed deeply into her mouth before the gag was secured by a knotted scarf tied between her lips.

»As I promised, you won`t see him die!«

As on keyword, Predrag groaned and Bahira`s muffled shriek was one of sheer horror.

»You bastard!«, Tabea cursed in Turkish as the man laughed and tied another scarf over Bahira`s mouth. She prepared to kick him once he was within reach, but he stepped behind the two girls. Then, with the help of his comrade, he forced them both down on their knees. Tabea tried to resist, but he again grabbed her hair and forced her to arch her back until her boobs pointed up into the sky and he could look down on her face.

His accomplice now brought a bright red cloth, bigger than the one that had been stuffed into Bahira`s mouth, and Tabea prepared for getting gagged. However, the man now took a bottle and started to spill the liquid over it. Tabea could smell it was some strong liquor. When he finally stopped and balled up the cloth, some of it dripped on her face and when some reached her lips, she involuntarily licked them and tasted it was indeed some Slivovitz or something similar.

Now, the man holding her hair tightened his grip and with his other hand, he pinched her nose shut. Then, the second man started to slowly stuff the wet rag into Tabea`s mouth. She moaned and retched as some more liquor ran down her throat. Not that she hated drinking, but the wetness of the cloth allowed the man to pack it even more densely into her oral crevice and in addition, she would soon feel even thirstier than with a normal gag.

Once he had stuffed the scarf so deep into her throat she feared she would choke, he continued by tying a big knot into a second cloth. This was forced between her jaws and knotted tightly at her nape, only to be followed by a third cloth. This, too, was soaked with Slivovitz before they tied it over her nose and mouth. Tabea immediately felt that now, she had to suck every bit of air through the wet cloth and besides, she had to smell the alcoholic fumes. Laughing at her strained expression, the man tied a wet piece of leather over her gagged mouth. Tabea knew that once this had tried, it would add even more pressure and discomfort to her gag.

She now was blindfolded, but again, the men had some more in store for her. A burlap sack was pulled over her head and then, the noose around her neck was loosened, but only to tug the rough cloth under it before it was tightened again.

Tabea tried to cope with this monstrous gag, fighting for sheer breath, when she felt that her breasts were touched from behind. Roughly, the man kneaded her boobs before she felt a sharp pain as he placed some clothes pegs on her nipples.

»A bastard, hm?«

He slapped her butt, causing her to jump forward. Then, she felt that the rope dangling from her wrists was grabbed and fixed to something. When she felt a pull, she realized that they both had been tied to the saddle of one of the horses and now had to follow it. Tabea staggered, pulling Bahira with her. A moment later, she heard a muffled shriek from her co-captive, followed by another slap to her buttock. According to the pain, this time, the man had used a crop.

»Just keep up, girls, you may rest in a few hours, but now, you have to walk!«

***

Jelena looked at the three men dozing in the shadow of a rock close to the well where they had stopped their trip, just as Goran had ordered. So far, they had not done anything evil to her: she had been freed of her bonds and the gag and had been given water and then, the men had decided to wait until it would be a bit cooler. Jelena had been left with a noose tied around her neck. The other end Goran had wound around his wrist so he would notice if the girl would try to get the rope from her neck and run away.

The leash measured some ten yards – just enough to allow her to get to the well to have some more water, but not to hide behind some bushes to relieve herself. In addition, the only shadow was offered by the rock and there, Goran and his men were already lying. Of course, she could have sat beside them. After all, they all had already touched her. And, though Jelena blushed from admitting it, getting touched by Goran had not been unpleasant.

However, there were the other two thugs, too. And Goran already had pointed out he could not risk that they thought he wanted her for himself. So, he sure would not intervene if they would touch her.

»I wonder how far he would let them go before his feelings for me would become stronger than his loyalty towards them!«

The idea of Goran being the classical rogue with the golden heart was intriguing, but Jelena knew that such things only existed in fiction. If nothing happened, he would deliver her to whoever his employer was, get money for her and soon forget about her.

Jelena sighed. A few weeks ago, she had been living the secure, slightly boring life of a scholar in the 21th century. Then, she had been abducted, sent back in time and since then, repeatedly been bound and gagged. It seemed that the 16th century was a never ending nightmare of bondage and torture. And since yesterday, she had even lost her only friend and companion, Tabea.

»And now, all I can do is trying to seduce a man who has kidnapped me to sell me for profit! Where is female empowerment if you need it?«

Her self-pity was interrupted when she noticed the men were talking to each other in a low tone. Then, Goran gave the leash a tug: not to hurt her, but clearly ordering her to get close. Jelena obeyed and Goran looked at her, a smile on his lips, but in his eyes, Jelena seemed to notice some worry.

»Girl, as you may know, to get to Sarajevo, we will have to cross the river Drina. And thus, we have to get to Zvornik, a small town some 20 miles from here. There, we have a hideout where we can wait for – well, for the man who wants to see you.«

Jelena frowned. Why did he tell her that instead of simply confronting her with the next destination of their trip? Goran continued:

»However, there is a Turkish garrison at Zvornik and of course, we can`t just ride into town with you sitting on a horse, bound, gagged and scantily clad.«

The girl bit her tongue not to mockingly ask back:

»A true delimma, isn`t it?«

Now, Goran told her that they had to take precautions for their safety and now, she understood his concerns: since he was the only one who knew the linkman, Goran would have to go to Zvornik – which meant he would have to leave Jelena behind with his two comrades. Her eyes widened when she more and more realized what that meant.

»I will ride now and so, I should reach the town by night. If nothing goes wrong, I should be back tomorrow by afternoon. However, if the Turks get me – well, then Mensud and Amar will be in charge.«

At once, the two men ensured him that they wished him well and that sure, he would outsmart the Turks and come back soon. However, the way they looked at Jelena made clear that losing their comrade and leader would have its advantages, too. Suddenly, Jelena felt very uncomfortable and vulnerable in her flimsy slip and despite the still warm sun, she shivered.

***

Predrag first thought it was a hallucination when he saw the black silhouette approaching.

»Perhaps, that`s the Grim Reaper himself!«

The strays of pain from the bolt in his chest had been replaced by a numbness of his whole body and Predrag knew that he would die soon. He had not even been able to crawl into the shadow and more and more, he was losing his ability to think clearly.

The Grim Reaper came closer and when he bent down, Predrag saw he was holding something in his hand. Then, something was pushed between his lips and a hand gently lifted his head.

Though the stranger only allowed him to take a few sips, the water felt marvelous to the wounded man. His senses cleared a bit and now, he could see that the stranger was indeed a human being. However, when he examined Predrag`s wound, he frowned.

»If this doesn`t get treated, you will die by dusk. Unfortunately, I am no doctor.«

He spoke Serbian, but even in his weakened state, Predrag could notice a strange accent. The man now moistened a rag and carefully cleaned Predrag`s wound, sending painful strays through his body as he touched the bolt. Then, he looked away, as if something at the horizon had caught his attention.

The ground was rocky and so, he could no longer see the dust whirled up by the two riders and the two girls involuntarily following them. He had watched through his spyglass as the thugs had assaulted the little group, wounded the man and had tied up and gagged Tabea and the other girl. He had considered a swift attack: though he was alone, he was a skilled fighter and with the momentum of surprise, he would have stood a fair chance. But then, another thought had appeared in his mind – driven rather by feelings than rational thoughts:

After his long search, he was not only relieved to have found Tabea, he also was a bit angry about what he had endured to get her. Of course, the girl was almost certainly not guilty of her disappearance, but he definitely liked the idea of rescuing her – a bit later. Just to let her suffer a bit, so she would appreciate more his efforts of saving her. And so, he had just watched the men trussing the girls up from the distance, sure that he could easily follow their tracks.

But now, there still was the man who again let out a weak groan of pain. The bolt had obviously missed his heart and lung by an inch or so and he had survived simply by luck. But of course, the bolt had to be removed or the man would die.

The man looked again to the gap between two hills where the caravan of the kidnapped girls and their abductors had disappeared. This man had nothing to do with his aim; he was just what they called a »collateral damage«. He did not even have to blame himself for the man`s wound, for even if he had intervened, he would not have prevented the thug shooting at him.

»Ba-hi-ra«, the wounded man now whispered. Turning towards him, he asked:

»Bahira? The other girl? Is she your wife?«

»Sister!«

It was more a cough than an actual cry and the effort made the man sink back to the ground, breathing heavily. The other man sighed and made a decision:

»You will die from this wound and I can`t help you. However, I know someone who can. We are not actual friends, but I know he`s the best medic around.«

Quickly, he rummaged the cart and found material to build a makeshift tray on which the wounded could rest and that could be drawn by a horse or mule. When he embedded the man on this tray, he again whispered his sister`s name; then, he lost consciousness.

»Don`t you dare dying, I am maybe losing her track by helping you!«

The man mounted his mule after he had released the horse from the cart. It would find water and grass around and sooner or later, some peasants would be glad to have found it. There were several villages around, but his goal was some ten miles away: the city of Valjevo.

On his way, he repeatedly calculated the growing distance between him and Tabea: whilst the kidnappers could not make more than some two miles an hour, considering the rocky terrain and the fact that the two girls could hardly walk fast pace, he could do much faster once he had brought the wounded man to Valjevo. So, though he had no idea where Tabea and her kidnappers were heading to, he still stood a chance of finding their track.

Tabea! He smiled when he remembered the willful Black and when he thought of how he had touched her smooth, dark skin, how he had kneaded her ample, firm breasts whilst she had moaned through her gag, unable to oppress her growing arousal, he felt a tingle in his loins. When he licked his lips, he could almost sense the taste of Tabea`s sweat.

He fought down the urge to touch himself and concentrated on riding as fast as the uneasy terrain and the condition of his passenger allowed. After some two hours, he could see the walls of Valjevo and several people asked him about the wounded man on the tray. A few even offered their help, but he refused and said:

»A simple surgeon can`t help this man. In your city, there is only one person who has the skill to save this man`s life: Milan of Sarajevo!«

The people did not cross themselves, but there was some murmur. Milan of Sarajevo was a recommended scholar and medic, but also, he had a reputation of being an alchemist or even a black magician. There were some rumors about what was going on in his mansion and most people were sure that sooner or later, the authorities would turn their eyes upon him.

The two men were escorted to the street where Milan lived, but when the mule approached the mansion`s bronze door, they withdrew, leaving the two alone. Slowly, the man dismounted and looked at his companion. He had sweat on his forehead and still had not regained consciousness, but he was still alive and breathing. Nodding grimly, the man knocked at the door.

***