Between Tradition and Modernity 7

When the terrain became more and more rocky, Blacksmith had increasing difficulties in finding tracks, but on the other hand, they were following a side road to Kharabad that had been all but forgotten since the new road had been finished, but nevertheless was still recognizable.

»Either they are completely unaware that someone could follow them, or they just don’t care about it at all!«

He didn’t mention the third option: that there was a trap waiting for them. Nevertheless, he kept his rifle ready, and he saw it with mixed feelings as Daisy did the same, for he didn’t want her to get in danger.

When the path grew steeper, there were signs of hooves, and also horse manure, indicating that there were more riders not far from them. So, at a small airing beside a brook, Blacksmith halted the group.

»Just wait here with the horse, I will see what I can find out on my own!«

Daisy insisted on accompanying him, and of course, the Lieutenant hesitated:

»Someone should have an eye on the other women!«

»So, it is dangerous, no matter whether we are here or up that path! Look, I may not have been too long in the Coast Guard, but even I know that going without a backup isn’t too smart!«

Blacksmith, who didn’t want to argue with Daisy, and who still was a bit overwhelmed by a woman being so self-confident, finally agreed upon taking her with him. Each took a rifle, leaving Nesrin with the revolver.

»If you hear something, just shoot – but before, just look it isn’t us!«

Daisy hugged her friends, and then, she followed Blacksmith who slowly followed the path. Sayana led the horse to the water, and when they had also unloaded it, she looked around.

»Look!«

She showed some plain looking flowers to Nesrin who just shrugged and pointed at a much more splendid one nearby. Sayana smiled:

»I agree that these are beautiful, but the others look just like one of the ingredients of a certain potion – the one allowing us to travel through time!«

Of course, Nesrin didn’t like the idea of them separating, but Sayana insisted that their enemies were up the brook, but she wanted to go the other direction, and also just for a few dozen yards.

»In addition, you know what happened when we travelled without the potion!«

It was a compelling argument, and so, Nesrin leaned against a tree, the revolver in both hands, whilst Sayana disappeared between the bushes, armed with a small knife and a bag. She did indeed collect some of the flowers, but what she had told Nesrin had only been half the truth.

The petals would help to create the potion, but her main reason to leave Nesrin behind was that she needed some time alone so she could think. They had to free Marguerite and Lilly, but what would be then? Not only were there five girls, including herself, who weren’t in the time period they belonged to, the affair between Johnny and Daisy had made matters worse. Both her staying with the Lieutenant or Blacksmith following them would cause more turbulences in the waves of time – turbulences that could have terrible effects.

Then, there was her own role. Sayana could live with having to say Goodbye to her new friends, but where would she end up if she returned to her own time? Would she be condemned to stay a slave on the plantation of the Comte de Rey? Her only reason to endure that fate was her care for Nyala, and since she now knew that at least her little sister had made it to a life in freedom and happiness, Sayana also wanted something mote for the rest of her life.

She sat down by the brook, absent-mindedly throwing small pebbles into the water. The small circles of water reminded her of the turbulences in time, and she blocked out the world around her. So,  she didn’t notice the faint rustle behind her or see the shadow in the reflection on the brook’ surface, and when strong arms clamped her, and a smelly rag was pressed over her mouth and nose, it was already too late.

Her trance had been so deep that only one small mew emerged from her throat before her eyes twisted and she collapsed in her captors’ arms.

***

After Nesrin’s report, Blacksmith had expected a small group of kidnappers, but when they approached a rocky hill that almost was high enough to be called a mountain, he and Daisy didn’t trust their eyes: there were a few dozen horses, together with some ten men. These men didn’t seem too concerned about being seen or heard, as a few of them were sitting in a circle, laughing and throwing dice, but they were all armed. There was no sign of the abducted girls, not even of any female person.

What also concerned Blacksmith was the fact that there were far more horses than men, and whilst the men were looking plain, some of the horses looked as if they had cost a fortune. And there was something that made him doubt that these were some ordinary horse thieves.

»Maybe, it’s just a coincidence! Maybe, these men have nothing to do with the missing girls!«

Blacksmith knew that this was very unlikely, but he had to make sure. So, he whispered to Daisy to keep the post whilst he would look what he could find out. She hesitated, but he had the argument she couldn’t beat: instead of her, he spoke Hindi and thus could maybe understand what the men were talking about.

What he lacked, however, was sneaking skills, and so, he didn’t get too close to the group to understand more than an occasional word; most of the times, it was swears or comments on the game the men had. He slid into a leave-covered trench to get closer, only to be stopped by an obstacle after a few yards.

It was a wicker box, as big as a coffin, and it was covered with dust. So, Blacksmith guessed that it was the transport box they had followed for more than a day now. Carefully, he drew his knife and cut an opening, so he could feel inside.

There was no one inside, but he could feel something soft, and when he pulled, he produced a bit of silk, like the silk of the dress Lilly had been wearing. In addition, the inside of the box smelled of sweat and perfume, telling him the girls had most likely been transported inside it.

He could hear the sounds of steps and Indian voices from above; again, no one said something like »Let’s leave the girls here, they are secure in the dungeon behind door number three!«. Instead, there were a few orders given, and he could hear the newcomers mount the horses. After some minutes, everything was quiet.

Blacksmith left his cover and waved towards Daisy who approached with the rifles. They inspected the wicker box, only to see it indeed contained the clothes of the three missing women, but not the girls themselves. Blacksmith, raised in the Victorian society, felt somehow intrigued by the idea that wherever the girls were, they were more or less undressed.

Covering each other, they inspected the rock and found the stairs leading inside a narrow cave, only to be stopped by an iron door after a few yards. It took Blacksmith all his self-control not to kick against the door. Daisy inspected the lock, but this wasn’t something that could be opened by a simple piece of wire.

»If they are not on the other side, I’ll eat my rifle, butt first!«

Daisy pulled him closer, slinging her arms around him.

»Whoever built this, he sure didn’t leave only one entry!«

Blacksmith had to oppress a chuckle; for a moment, he thought she was referring to herself. Then, however, he understood that she meant the hideout, and he agreed on returning to the others.

From a nearby bush, the two were watched by a man who hadn’t mounted his horse simply because he didn’t have any. He was used to carry weights, and now, he had already taken off the ornated robe and the bushy fake beard he had been wearing when he had attended Ajala’s secret meeting. His order was to get back immediately, and he had strained his luck by appearing here. However, these two people, both wearing plain Indian clothes, but one of them speaking like a British Officer and the other a woman, were too strange to be simply ignored.

»Ayo Gorkhali!«, he whispered to himself as he followed the two from the distance.

***

When Ajala had returned, the men had also stopped groping and teasing Lavinia and Marguerite and returned to the table, continuing their discussion. From what Lilly could understand, the men seemed more conciliant now, and after another hour, they left.

For Lilly, it had been the longest hour in her life, though she had nothing to do but stand in a corner. However, she felt the bullet inside her rear on the slightest move, reminding her of the strange message from the bearded man. She had tried to watch him, but he had just been sitting aside, staying silent and obviously just watching. When the men left, he had not even looked at the girl that was now covered with sweat.

She had, however to thank the stranger for the way he had left his message, for shortly after the men were gone, she was relieved from her gag and shackles, and her loincloth dropped, leaving her naked. Lilly saw Laya stand behind her, waiting for her to notice the plug, but nothing happened. The Indian handed her a bar of soap and pointed at the pond, and Lilly gratefully took the opportunity to disappear in the water. Laya said something in Hindi and the others laughed. When Ajala stopped her, Lilly felt a shiver run down her spine.

»She just mentioned that you have adjusted quite well to your new role! You are swaying your hips more when you are walking! Maybe, we should shackle your feet more often!«

Now, Lilly quickly dived into the water. She went where she could barely stand and used the soap not only to wash herself, but to get the plug from her butt. Then, turning her back to the others, she tried and indeed was able to unscrew it.

Lilly wasn’t quite sure what she had expected to find, and she was about to cry when she saw that there was no message inside. Instead, it contained a very small pocket-knife and two pieces of wire that looked like lockpicks. Lilly looked at the shore, only to see Lavinia and Marguerite, now both stark naked, more crawling than staggering into the water. Obviously, the molesting had finally convinced them to give up their clothes in exchange for a bath.

The two couldn’t swim, but since they were taller than Lilly, they could approach her. When they approached, Lilly noticed the expression of sheer horror in their faces, and the signs of tears. Quickly, she handed them the soap bar, and Lavinia began to almost aggressively wash herself whilst Marguerite sank into Lilly’s arms. She allowed her friend to sob, but then, she quickly told her what had happened to her.

»I don’t have any explanation, all I can say is that the man was definitely too small to be Blacksmith! But now, we have a small chance of at least freeing ourselves!«

She went to Lavinia who still was trying to wash the embarrassment from her body. Both she and Marguerite had not suffered more than groping, but this had been more than enough. The redhead just shied away when Lilly spoke, and she now grabbed her arm almost painfully.

»Listen, Lavinia! We have a chance! A chance to get out of here!«

She feared that she hadn’t gotten through the wall of panic, but finally, Lavinia blinked and wriggled her arm.

»You are hurting me!«

Lilly let her go, but now, Lavinia seemed able to understand what she had to say. Despondently, she looked at the shore where Laya and Amal were waiting with towels.

»Even if we cut our bonds, where shall we go? We don’t know how to open the door!«

She had a point there, but Lilly once again touched her arm, gentler this time, and she forced a smile on her face:

»At least, we are one step closer to freedom than we were yesterday!«

After a few moments, Lavinia nodded. Then, she asked, blushing all over:

»Wh-were will you h-hide the knife? A-at the – the o-old place?«

Lilly blushed, too.

»Desperate situations acquire desperate measures! Give me the soap!«

Before they went back to their captors, Lilly added one last advice:

»We can’t risk them tying us in a way that I can’t reach the knife! So, whatever they have in mind for us, we will have to play their game!«

She translated the sentence for Marguerite, and then, they stepped out of the water. Now, Lilly could see that from a clothesline, three pieces of garment were dangling: it was their discarded knickers, as if Ajala had given order to flag their final defeat. Reflexively, she felt for her butt and took a deep breath before she took the towel from Laya.

***

»What the-«

Blacksmith and Daisy had reached the place where they had left the others. The horse was still there, and their luggage was neatly placed beside a tree, but there was no sign of either Sayana or Nesrin. Daisy was about to guess that they had just withdrawn to follow nature when there was a rustling in the bushes, and when Blacksmith aimed at its source, they looked at Nesrin, trembling like aspen foliage and holding the revolver in her cramped hands.

»Sa-Sayana! Sh-she has d-d-disappeared!«

Nesrin managed to tell them that Sayana had left to pluck some flowers, only to not return. When Nesrin had looked after her, she had found the basket and the little knife, but no sign of Sayana. Except for some cracked twigs, she had vanished without a trace.

»I told you to stay together!«, Blacksmith muttered, and Daisy put her arm around the sobbing Nesrin, though she had to agree with the Lieutenant. Blacksmith looked around if he could find tracks, but he wasn’t a tracker, and there were not enough left on the rocky ground. More out of frustration, he glanced at Daisy:

»Now, girl from the future, tell me what will happen next?«

Daisy looked as if he had just slapped her. Of course, Blacksmith didn’t believe that part of her story, though he had admitted that she was the most extraordinary woman he had ever met – in more than one condition. However, she was no fortune teller; she could tell Blacksmith that next year, the American Civil War would start, or when Queen Victoria would die, but she had no clue what would happen to any of them. Perhaps, this special timeline had only started when they had landed in it two days before.

Blacksmith seemed to have read her thoughts, for he gently touched her arm, as if to apologize. Now, Nesrin cleared her throat:

»Maybe, I’ve got an idea!«

»I hope it’s not separating, to look for Sayana!«, Blacksmith snapped. Nesrin lowered her head, but then, she shook her head and when she had told them, Blacksmith looked at her differently.

He really couldn’t believe the mumbo-jumbo about time travelling, but obviously, this girl was quite extraordinary, too!

***

Since her powers were intuitive, they sometimes followed her into her dreams, and so, waking up from the strangest of dreams wasn’t new to Sayana. In this case, there had been spirals in all colours rotating in front of her eyes, and when they began to vanish, she tried to blink them away, but couldn’t.

»Mhm?«

Sayana wanted to wipe her eyes, but her hands were held back, and when she tried to move, she realized that she could hardly twitch. Again, she made a faint sound, but this time, she had already realized that she was once again bound, gagged and blindfolded.

As the narcotic worked off, Sayana not only remembered how she had suddenly been attacked from behind, the cloth that had been pressed over her mouth and nose, the sweet smell, the loss of consciousness – she also was able to analyse her bondage.

She was in a sitting position, leaning against what seemed to be the trunk of a big tree, for though her arms were pulled behind her back and pressed against the smooth bark, her hands didn’t touch. A second rope went over her shoulders, crossed between her breasts and then had been threaded through her armpits, pinning her upper body to the trunk. When she tried to move, she felt the rope chaff her skin, and she knew she had been stripped naked.

Her ankles had been tied to two posts that had been rammed into the ground, so she had to sit with her legs stretched and spread. She could also sense that under her middle, there was some kind of hollow.

Her blindfold was quite elaborate. A cloth held small pads over her eyes, and above, some rope or strap had been pulled tight, pressing the ack of her head against the tree and preventing her from moving her head. Her gag, however, consisted of just a vile-tasting wad stuffed into her mouth, and when she moaned, she could hear a male voice, and a hand was clamped over her mouth.

Sayana was fluent in French, but she only knew a few words in English, since the majority of her contacts with English speaking people had been during the past few days. So, she could understand that they were asking her questions, but when the gag was taken from her mouth, she just could croak »What?«.

Obviously, they misunderstood it for her asking for water, for a bottle was held to her lips and she was given some. Then, the questions were repeated, but she could only understand the interrogative pronouns – plus a name, Lieutenant Blacksmith. When the man paused, Sayana answered:

»S'il te plaît! Je ne comprends pas!«

There was a short silence; then, the questions were repeated, the man now speaking slower and more clearly, as if she was hard of hearing. Again, she repeated her answer. The gag was pressed back into her oral cavity, and now, though she could hardly understand a word, her captors were »showing her the instruments«, so to say: one of them obviously gave an explicit explanation of what they would do to her if she insisted on not understanding English, whilst his comrade illustrated these words by short demonstrations.

Sayana gasped when she felt her nipples getting pinched, she then felt the man’s hand in the hollow under her butt whilst the other one hissed something into her ear. Little did she know that Javoo was describing how they would place glowing coals right under her, allowing her to show what the man misunderstood as bravery. Bodhi continued by slapping her exposed soles a few times, but Javoo stopped him and once again ungagged Sayana. He then watched her reactions carefully when he once again interrogated her about Blacksmith’s plans. When she once again answered in French, Bodhi raised a bamboo cane, not looking too happy. None of them was a great friend of direct physical violence. Javoo shook his head.

»Seems she only speaks French!«

He chuckled about this coincidence. Neither he nor his comrade spoke more than some five words in that language, so, their hostage could tell them little of value. However, she still could be useful to force Blacksmith to be cooperative.

»We will now gag you again, and I will try to speak to the Lieutenant! Meanwhile, my comrade will have an eye on you – and maybe not just an eye!«

Sayana felt that her head was released from the trunk, but only to allow the men, once the rag had been crammed deeper into her mouth, to tie a knotted  cloth between her teeth. Above, another one was tied, covering her mouth, and then, Sayana could smell something sweet as yet another scarf was tied over her nose and mouth, forcing her to inhale whatever the cloth had been soaked with. It was the cloth the men had used to narcotize her, and the drug had partially worn off; the cloth over her nose would not cause the girl to pass out, but it would keep her in a drowsy state, easier to handle.

Her head was once again fixed to the trunk by the strap over her blindfold, and Sayana panted, trying to breathe through the silk covering her nose. She now was sure that her gag was her own loincloth, and it pressed down on her tongue, forcing her to occasionally swallow. The fumes in the cloth over her nose felt strange, but more and more, she felt that they helped her to relax a bit. Then, she could feel the hands on her body.

»French, hm?«

Javoo was mounting his horse, allowing Bodhi to concentrate on the captive. The only French woman he had ever seen so far had been a whore in a bar at Bombay, but since he was Indian, he had not been allowed to get too close.

The skin of the whore had been very pale, whilst this woman’s was so dark that he looked fair in comparison. Driven by curiosity, he brushed over her skin. It felt like that of any other woman he had touched, soft and warm, and he could hear a faint mew as he touched her breasts.

For about two thirds of his 19 years, Bodhi had been in the service of Harry, meaning that he had some skills as a burglar and was an able fighter, but there had been few occasions to get closer to the other sex. Sure, there were whores, but he had only been with one of them once, and it had been more hasty than anything else. Now, he had all the time he wanted.

He cupped the Black’s breasts and kneaded them, feeling both a tingle in his loins and the exciting thrill of exploring something new. Sayana moaned and writhed in her bonds. The cloth over her nose billowed as she panted, and Bodhi adjusted to her breath as he continued his massage. He recited an old Indian poem, and obviously, the words had a soothing effect, for the girl became calmer. Perhaps, it was just the effects of the narcotic.

Bodhi could see that the woman’s nipples had grown bigger, and when he touched them, they felt hard. It was something he associated with cold air, but the skin of her felt warm, almost hot. He continued playing with her nipples, and the girl once again groaned. The sound was intriguing, and Bodhi closed his eyes as he continued.

Sayana was blindfolded anyway, and she was forced to concentrate on her sense of feeling. She could hear nothing but her own breathing and panting, mixing with that of the man, she could smell just the fumes of the cloth filtering every breath, and the little she thought about the taste of her loincloth, the better.

The hands of the man were a different matter, though. Sure, they had kidnapped her, tied and gagged her, and the man’s main intention was his pleasure, not hers. And yet –

Sayana knew a thing or two about getting touched against her will, and this felt different. It wasn’t just that he didn’t try to hurt her; there was also no sign of a gleeful »I could hurt you if I only wanted!«. This man’s touches were – Sayana couldn’t find a more fitting word – innocent. It wasn’t a criminal torturing his victim, it was just an inexperienced boy exploring the body of a woman he considered beautiful. Sayana vaguely knew that perhaps, the drug was blurring her intuition, but the combination caused her to not be able to hate the man touching her. And so, when he once again gently squeezed her boobs, she reared up the little her bonds allowed, and when she felt his lips and tongue on her nipple, she sighed with anticipation.

***

Lilly, Marguerite and Lavinia hadn’t been given any clothes, but Laya had allowed them to keep the towels and so, they now sat there, wrapped in these, and had some of the tea and fruits offered to them. Ajala seemed quite happy with the results of her negotiations, for she just watched them in silence, showing an enigmatic smile. Only when they had finished their meal, she spoke:

»Among my guests was an elderly man – the one with the yellow robe! Maybe, you can remember whom I am speaking of?«

The expression on Lavinia’s face showed that she could remember the man, for though he had looked as if he had been past his 80th birthday, he had gleefully touched her with his claw fingers, and his comments, though in Hindi, had caused her to shiver just from the intonation. Ajala noticed her reaction and she smiled sardonically.

»Among us girls, he’s just an old billy goat! However, as long as he is willing to serve my cause, I am willing to treat him like the stallion he believes to be!«

Now, Lavinia gasped, and Ajala raised her hand.

»No need to be too flattered, he was also quite fascinated by Marguerite! Seems that he has just a tase for European – mares!«

Marguerite had heard her name and raised her head. Lilly decided against translating Ajala’s words. Now, they had just one more reason to try an escape.

»Maybe, you should think about it«, Ajala continued, »I mean, how often will he be able to show you what a stallion he is? Once a month, maybe?«

»I have no idea what you are talking about!«, Lavinia snapped, but now, her cheeks were as red as her hair. Ajala giggled.

»So, your Mama didn’t have the talk with you?«

She added something in Hindi, and before any could react, Amal and Jeevan grabbed Lilly’s arms and dragged her over to one of the columns, tying her wrists behind it. Jeevan then tied her ankles behind the column in a way Lilly could still stand, but not completely close her legs, and Amal tied a triple knot into a large scarf. This was pressed into Lilly’s mouth and he then tied the ends off at her nape. Finally, he grabbed the towel and ripped it away, rendering her naked.

She watched helplessly as now, Lavinia and Marguerite were made to stand side by side. Their arms were tied behind their backs; with scarves, but not only at their wrists, but also their elbows. Both girls were blindfolded, but not gagged, and they both gasped when their towels were removed, too. Ajala then grabbed a bamboo cane and stepped beside them.

»Now, Lavinia, you will be taught a lesson – the easy way as long as you behave – the hard way if you don’t! Please, translate this to your blonde friend!«

Lavinia, suffering from not being able to hide her nude front from views, stammered, and Lilly could hear that she was searching for words, but in the end, Marguerite seemed to have understood, for she nodded. Ajala said something in Hindi, and now, Lilly mewed as Amal did not hesitate taking off his clothes. Lilly could see that he was not only athletic, but also – well equipped. She had a terrible thought about what Ajala had in mind. However, instead of approaching the blindfolded girls, Amal just leaned leisurely against the column next to Lilly’s. He seemed relaxed, and to Lilly’s relief, a special part of him was also – relaxed.

»Now, Lavinia, you will be the pupil, but later, I expect you to become Marguerite’s teacher! And as I said, it will only hurt if you refuse to obey!«

After some hesitating, Lavinia nodded and translated Ajala’s words. Next, Marguerite was gagged like Lilly was, and Ajala said:

»Now, describe exactly what you feel!«

She brought the cane to Lavinia’s lips, brushing over them. The girl shied back, and Ajala followed her with the cane, asking again, now with a slightly sharper voice.

»I-it’s a stick!«, Lavinia spat, and Ajala now encircled her breasts with it.

»A nice bamboo cane, to be precisely! Both flexible and firm! Can you imagine how it will hurt if I have to use it to hit you? Here?«, she slightly slapped Lavinia’s breasts, »here«, she added a light slap on the redhead’s buttocks, »or here?«

Now, Lavinia gasped when the cane touched her between her legs. Ajala withdrew, raising the cane like a teacher.

»It leaves nasty marks that will hurt for days! And of course, I will not only punish you, but also your friends! So, it’s on you how docile you are!«

Ajala let her words sink in before she directed the blindfolded Lavinia to a spot in the middle between Lilly, Amal and Marguerite. Then, she began:

»Now, let’s start with testing your general powers of observation! Both Lilly and Marguerite are girls from Europe, like you, they are about your age, and I freely admit that all of you are pretty! However, there are also differences! Now, compare Marguerite to you!«

Lavinia gulped, and she let out a fluttering breath. Obviously, she had expected worse. Quickly, she started to count:

»Well, Marguerite’s blonde whilst I am a redhead, she’s about one inch smaller than me, she-«

Lavinia hesitated, not knowing what to say next. Both girls had blue eyes, and she wasn’t sure if she should mention her few freckles, something she wasn’t proud of. Ajala let the cane swish through the air, so close that Lavinia felt the draught.

»That’s more than superficial, Lavinia! But maybe, you need some guidance! Now, compare yourselves here!«, she pointed at Lavinia’s breasts, »and be as precisely as you think you have to be to prevent me from whipping both of you!«

Lilly could see Lavinia blush down to her cleavage before she finally was able to answer:

»H-her-«

She had to gulp and clear her throat before she could spit out the complete sentence:

»Her – breasts are a bit smaller than mine!«

Lilly had never looked at her companions under that aspect, but she now saw that Lavinia was right: though such measurements weren’t invented yet, she guessed that Marguerite was a 34B whilst Lavinia was a 34C, just like herself. Ajala nodded, but then, she said something to Jeevan who, a lewd grin on his face, approached Marguerite and cupped her breasts, causing the girl to mew with surprise and disgust. Then, holding his hands in front of him like a walking zombie, he placed them on Lavinia’s boobs. He groped her for some time before he reported:

»Seems like she told the truth!«

»Excellent, Lavinia! Now, how about the little brunette? Is she more like you or like Marguerite, when we speak of her breasts?«

Lavinia, who was still shuddering from Jeevan’s groping, breathed:

»M-more like m-me!«

To the girls’ surprise – and to the man’s slight disappointment –, Ajala didn’t order Jeevan to grope Lilly’s breasts, too. Instead, she directed Lavinia over to Lilly, so she stood some half a yard away from her.

»Now, you two have similar breasts, but one could not call you twins, eh? Lilly’s smaller, your hair colour’s different, your skin is fairer – except for the parts Lilly didn’t expose to the sunlight –. Anyway, there is one place where you two also differ! Let me guide you, Lavinia!«

She placed the cane at the back of Lavinia’s knee, making her raise her leg. Then, she brushed along the calf, directing her to put her foot forward until it touched Lilly’s pubic mound.

***