Blonde Needles in a Giant Haystack 7

Melissa drove until Salamanca where not only the tank was almost empty, but she also needed a rest. Their solution for what to do with Ana was a bit hilarious, but neither Ana nor Johanna considered it funny.

The bound and gagged Policewoman was lowered into the tiny foot room of the backseat, and Sato, who also could not show up in public, lied down on the backseat and draped a blanket over both him and Ana. He held his gun in his right, telling Ana that he also would have preferred a less inconvenient arrangement.

Melissa and Johanna visited the bathroom whilst Gabriela filled the tank, and the Policewoman patted Johanna’s arm.

»I am sure he will only think of you, even when he is so close to her scantily clad body!«

Johanna scoffed.

»I feel like an idiot! I mean, we haven’t even figured out what this between us is, or if there is something at all, and I am acting jealous because he is tying up our hostage!«

Melissa looked around, but obviously, nobody of the other people spoke German. She wasn’t sure what to say when Johanna continued in her self-accusation:

»I even handed him my panties to gag her with! How comes that you and Gaby are still acting normal whilst I-«

Now, it was on Melissa to scoff:

»If you consider our current trip normal, well, I am afraid that if we get caught, Gaby and I will also spend some time behind bars!«

Johanna sighed.

»At least, you could see each other during yard walk, whilst he and I would be in different prisons!«

Melissa, who could see Gabriela having just finished refuelling, smiled.

»In a way – a very strange way – your Sato was a matchmaker for us – though I am also not sure what will be if we ever find time to talk and think!«

»As the young people always say – it’s difficult!«

Melissa, who still considered herself young, pouted a bit. They quickly bought a few coffees to go and snacks, and they changed the way of sitting with Melissa being allowed to doze on the passenger seat whilst Johanna sat on the backseat, with Ana between her and Sato. Johanna looked apologetically at the young Policewoman who responded by a calm, but contemptuous glance.

»We will stop somewhere soon, so you can also follow nature – and we will try to keep things as less embarrassing as possible!«

The expression in Ana’s brown eyes became, if possible, even icier. Johanna held up her mug.

»I am afraid the coffee will be cold until then, but we also have water – and I have this as well!«

She produced a pack of silk handkerchiefs from her handbag, each of them having written »Salamaca« on it. With a wryly smile, she added:

»They are maybe more convenient to gag you then – you know! I – I am sorry!«

Ostentatiously, Ana looked at the road in front of them, denying Johanna any acceptance of her apology. Sato reached around, and though it looked as if he wanted to hug Ana, he brushed over Johanna’s cheek. She looked at him with a grateful expression.

»Mph!«

Ana bent forward, as if she wanted to say: »Feel at home, just don’t take any notice of me!«, and Sato smiled.

»I am glad you weren’t that difficult when we – first met!«

The sheer absurdity of his comment made Johanna’s lips tremble, and she uttered a few chortles before she burst out laughing. It sounded a bit hysterical and shrill, but it also helped her to feel a little relieved after she had regained control, and she shook her head when she looked at the Japanese.

»One week ago, my greatest sorrow was that the Yellow Press would try to grill me about my divorce! How I miss these good old times!«

***

Dalanda watched as the three other captives were placed side by side near the fire. Despite the dark, they wore sunglasses, and lips were painted on their flesh-coloured bandage gags; Dalanda guessed that it was meant to confuse superficial viewers, and she had the ridiculous thought that for her, they would need dark brown packing tape instead. She shuddered when this reminded her that the men, whoever they were, sure would not let her go.

A hand grabbed her shoulder, firmly, but not brutal, and a moment later, her elbow tie was cut. Dalanda looked questioningly at the leader of the group, and when he didn’t say anything, she began unwrapping the tape from her lips and worked out the nerf ball. One of the men handed her some water, and she quenched her thirst. Then, she decided to play tough:

»Thanks – for the water! I would also thank you for freeing me from my kidnappers, but I am afraid that would be premature!«

The grey-haired man smiled.

»I appreciate that you are not wasting my time by forcing me to break your illusions! That means you can tell me immediately whom you were trying to escape from!«

Dalanda hesitated. She felt no loyalty for Wassim and his comrades, but she decided to sell the little knowledge she had at a price:

»If I tell you – what will it get me?«

It was a bit risky; he could just order his men to beat the truth out of her – or threaten that they would do so if she refused to talk. But she was sure that this man liked a challenge, and indeed, he kept his smile.

»How about you telling me your story, and I decide what it is worth? By the way, you may call me Mr. Keane!«

Dalanda gave him her name and then a short summary of her adventures since she had been at the Mauritanian plantation. The man seemed not too interested – until she mentioned that Wassim and his henchmen had kidnapped her to deliver her to some ominous »Sheik«.

»Are you talking about Sheik Mansur?«

Dalanda frowned.

»I – I don’t know! They weren’t too talkative, and they only referred to him as ›Sheik‹.«

Ben nodded slowly before he asked her if they had also mentioned a »Colonel«. Dalanda shook her head, and Ben stretched his limbs.

»Well, just a few more things, so we can eat! I am sure that your new – colleagues are also starving, and they sure want to have their bonds off! Dalanda, you may untie them!«

She looked at the three blondes that to her only differed in their sizes and the colour of their dresses. The tallest was sporting the smallest dress, and she could also tell that the smallest was the one with the biggest breasts. She approached that one and wanted to free her hands when Ben stopped her.

»Start with their legs – and then put on these instead!«

He handed her four pairs of handcuffs, and she gulped when she realized that the last one was meant for herself.

The small blonde was tied at her knees, and Dalanda took some time to pick on the tight knots. She could now see the girl wore a pantyhose, but no panties, and though she felt a bit guilty, she couldn’t help glimpsing at her middle. With a sigh, she stretched her legs once they were free, and she didn’t put up any resistance when Dalanda cuffed her ankles.

She was then told to remove the sunglasses and peel the tape from her eyes. Blinking, the girl looked at Dalanda, and when she asked her if she spoke French, she nodded slightly.

Dalanda picked on the bandage, found an edge and then unwound it, noticing that it held a massive packing in the girl’s mouth. When she retched and chortled, Dalanda reluctantly picked an edge of the wet cloth and pulled. It finally came out, and whilst the blonde drooled over her cleavage, Dalanda noticed the packing was a pair of white Lycra panties.

»Eww!«

She dropped them, and the damp garment landed on Babette’s lap. She was still panting, unable to speak, and Ben ordered her to free her arms. When she did so, Dalanda couldn’t help noticing how the elbow tie forced her to thrust her boobs out, and she blushed from the memory of how she had been tied the same way.

»I am Babette!«, the blonde whispered in French with a noticeable accent. Dalanda was not able to talk to her, as she then had to free the next one who looked older than the others, maybe in her early or mid-thirties. She was calm, either from exhaustion or from self-control, and her gag packing was a pair of red French Knickers that in a strange way matched her dress. She introduced herself as Carmen and obviously also could speak French.

Before she was allowed to release the tall girl’s legs, Ben told her to cuff her ankles before. It was a good advice, for she tried to kick at her, and when she told her that she only wanted to help, the girl didn’t calm down. Ben ostentatiously slapped his forehead.

»We forgot to unplug her ears! Anyway, you won’t have to repeat your backstory now, Dalanda, for Inga unfortunately doesn’t speak French if I remember that correctly!«

He looked at Carmen who shook her head. Apart from Swedish, Inga was fluent in English and spoke a little German and Spanish. Dalanda spoke Arabic, French and some English. She unplugged one of the blonde’s ears and whispered:

»I am Dalanda, and I am just freeing you! Hold still!«

Inga obeyed, and Dalanda could remove the other cotton wool plug and the eye tape, followed by the gag. She was now prepared for having to touch yet another pair of sodden panties, yet in Inga’s case, it was a black and a white lacy pair. She wanted to turn for the Swede’s arms when Ben intervened:

»There’s another rope I am sure Inga is even keener on getting rid of!«

Since Inga had bucked when she had freed her legs, Dalanda had not noticed the crotch rope yet, and she was dismayed when Ben told her to lift Inga’s skirt. The rope not only bisected her pubic mound, it also had been pulled so tight it was between her labia. The girl panted and wanted to protest, but Ben said in English:

»Three possibilities – you let Dalanda undo it, or you leave it there for the entire night! If you remove it yourself, you’ll get an even tighter one!«

Inga hissed something that sounded not very nice, and then, she at least held still, so the reluctant Dalanda could reach under her skirt. The knots were at her lower abdomen, so, though she had to pull down the tight pantyhose a bit, Dalanda didn’t have to touch the blonde’s private parts. However, the knots were also very tight, and to loosen them, she had to tug on the rope, causing Inga to inhale sharply and twitch.

»S-Sorry!«

»Not – your fault!«, Inga ached through gritted teeth, and finally, Dalanda managed to loosen the knots. She now could pull the rope away, and Inga whimpered and her chest heaved. Dalanda could see the ropes had left red marks on her skin, and she shuddered from merely imagining the pain on such a peculiar place.

Freeing the girl’s arms was a relief also for Dalanda, and once she had also cuffed her own ankles, they had to line up. Two of the men had meanwhile prepared a frugal meal, and Ben placed himself between the captives and the food.

»All right, just two last hurdles between you and dinner! First – we don’t want your dresses to get spoiled, so, before you will be allowed to eat, you’ll have to remove them! Also, speaking of clothes – we might need to get some new garments for you, and since we can’t take you with us when we go shopping, we also need you to announce your bra sizes!«

Dalanda gasped, but she noticed that her co-captives seemed far less abhorred – as if they were used to such a treatment. Carmen sighed and took off her cocktail dress, handing it to Ben who draped it over the Land Rover’s motorhead.

»34 C«, she announced with a cold voice, and Ben offered her his arm, leading her over to the blanket on which the food was placed. There, he assisted her in sitting down and seemed to play the role of her table host.

»Well, there’s nothing they haven’t seen before!«, Babette consoled herself and took off her dress. She fought down the urge to shield her breasts and stated:

»I am a 34D!«

She glimpsed at Marco who had been the gentlest of their captors so far – only to see that he only had eyes for Dalanda. Instead, Cory approached her, licking his lips.

»34 D – or, as I call it – a good handful!«

In fact, his hands were a little to small to fully cover Babette’s breasts, and so, he squeezed them a bit, obviously enjoying her gasping. He fondled her for some time before he finally led her to the dinner blanket.

Barrot now approached Inga and for about a minute, they fought a silent duel with their eyes. The man’s message was clear:

»You can win nothing but an empty stomach on this field!«

Finally, she opened the zipper of her little dress and let it slide down her hips, forcing Barrot to bend down for it.

»36 C – and if you even think of touching them, I will break your neck!«

A rather amused than offended Barrot led her to the food, and now, Marco and Sid (Jean and Nico were outside, guarding the area) looked at Dalanda who had watched the stripping of the others, more or less done deliberately, with growing horror. Ben, whilst nonchalantly holding a tin cup as if it was a wine glass, said:

»I know that this is new to you – but you better get used to it soon! Or, to put it otherwise – I hate whipping girls almost as much as I hate if my orders are not followed!«

His voice had changed to a sharper tone, and even over the distance, Dalanda could see that he meant what he said. A flashback of her time at the plantation hit her.

There, the overseers had used whips for punishments – and each new slave had been greeted on his or her first day with a single stroke. It was meant for them to realize what it meant to be condemned to one or two dozen, and though it had been the only whiplash Dalanda had received, it had stayed in her memory.

So, though she hated herself for giving in to the humiliating order, Dalanda opened the buttons of her dress. It opened at the front, with the button line going down to her waist, and when it gaped, the men could see that she was wearing no bra. This wasn’t a deliberate decision; the soldiers who had taken care of her had no access to lingerie, and they had been glad to at least be able to give her the dress.

»Sticks and stones may break my bones, but looks won’t kill me!«, she told herself when she pulled the dress down her shoulders. The change in Marco’s and Sid’s eyes told her that they were focussing on her breasts. Being well endowed, Dalanda knew that look, and according to the occasion, she had either loved or loathed it.

She pulled the dress over her hips, so it fell to the floor. Marco approached, his face showing a strange mixture of shyness and admiration, and she stepped out of the dress, allowing him to place it beside the others. Except for her black panties, she now was naked, and she was about to cross her arms in front of her chest. Instead, she took a deep breath.

»I – I am a 34D!«

»Just like Babette!«, Cory crowed, groping one of Babette’s breasts. He chuckled:

»What do you think, how about calling her ›Busty Babsi‹, and the other one ›D-cup Dalanda‹? We also have ›Curvy Carmen‹ and – I just can’t imagine a word starting with ›I‹ that fits Inga!«

»A mercenary that not only knows artillery, but also alliterations!«, Ben commented, and Babette could see a slight contempt for Cory in his eyes. He looked at Marco who had meanwhile draped Dalanda’s dress on the car and called him towards him, whispering something into his ear. The young man gulped, but he went for the Land Rover and fetched something before he approached Dalanda. In his hand, he held something beige and crumpled she identified as a worn pantyhose.

»Boss told me you should put on these!«

He seemed a bit shy about this order, and he cleared his throat before he added, pointing at her black panties:

»Instead of those!«

»No!«

Dalanda now crossed her arms in front of her chest and stepped back, ruining the effect a bit because she had forgotten about her ankle cuffs and had to fight for balance. Marco showed a sad smile.

»I would hate whipping you almost as much as you would hate getting whipped – but that would be the alternative!«

He somehow really seemed to feel sorry for putting her into this. Dalanda looked at her fellow captives. They were suffering the same fate, and they hadn’t died from it. She looked at Marco with a pleading expression.

»Could you turn around, please?«

To her surprise, he obeyed and even Sid did so, too. Dalanda took a deep breath; then, she hooked her thumbs into the waistband and pulled the panties down to her ankles. Her idea had been to get the ordeal done as quickly as possible, but now, the ankle cuffs stopped her from taking off the garment completely.

»Y-You have to remove the cuffs!«

Marco reached into his pocket and, with the hey in his hand, waved behind his back with his arms, as if trying to feel for her. Despite the situation, Dalanda had to chuckle.

»Goddamn, turn around and turn to salt!«

She shielded her breasts with one arm and cupped her pubic mound with her other hand. Marco let his eyes wander over her, and he seemed to like what he saw when he crouched to open her cuffs. She felt her cheeks get aflame when he then took the panties, and she was aware that she had been wearing them since her first captivity, only occasionally being able to wash them.

When Marco placed them beside the other ones that had gagged the blondes, she also remembered that they still had the microSD card sewn into them. The price of her previous ordeals. Dalanda decided that she had yet another reason to get them back soon.

To put on the pantyhose, she had to lower her guard, and when she put it on, she realized that the material was far too transparent to hide her thatch of pubic hair. She could also have gone naked.

Marco recuffed her ankles and led her over to the blanket. To her surprise, Dalanda felt hungry and could eat, even drinking a cup of the wine, though she knew that even the little amount would get her tipsy. Being born in Northern Senegal, she had been raised as a Muslim, and even in France, she had only occasionally drunk a little. And during the last months, there had of course been no alcohol at all for her.

She watched her fellow captives, and how they were coping with the situation. Inga was eating with an angry hastiness, as if she wanted to show that she only did so to keep enough strength for further defiance. Babette, on the other hand, tried some small talk with Marco, though he was focussed on her, or hoped to avoid Cory’s attempts of groping her. Carmen was treated by Ben with some gentleness, and if not one of them had been nearly naked and had her ankles cuffed, this could have been a regular picnic.

None tried to find out more about their destiny, though of course, they all could guess from Ben’s conversation with Dalanda that the »Colonel«, or maybe even the »Sheik« had something to do with it. So, there was only some small talk, and after the meal, Ben even joked:

»The good thing of having such a meal is that the girls don’t have to do the dishes!«

A corner behind a wall that one of the men checked before if it offered any holes big enough to squeeze through was declared »Ladies’ Bathroom«, and each of them was given three minutes, though one of the men watched at gunpoint and demanded that he at least had to see the head for the entire time. Nico then offered cigarettes, but only Carmen and Dalanda took one. Ben clapped his hands finally and said:

»As much as we all enjoy a break, we have to get up early tomorrow morning! So, let’s talk about the sleeping arrangements!«

***

Wassim could feel the presence of the gun in his belt, but he knew that even if he could kill the two men, a Black and a White, there would be four or five more inside the ruin. So, he hoped that they would perhaps spill some beans, as he had managed to get so close he could overhear their talking.

Unfortunately, they spoke French in a dialect different from the one he knew, and it was his second language. In addition, it wasn’t like in some spy movies where the bad guys revealed their entire plan in a nutshell whilst the good guy was secretly listening.

However, the white guy dropped a name – »Colonel«. Of course, he could have been referring to any man holding that rank, but they were approaching the Free Zone, and there, only one Colonel was simply called by his rank. Wassim balled his fist. If these men were cooperating with the Colonel, they were veritable enemies.

When the men changed the subject and discussed football, Wassim silently withdrew and went back to where he had parked his car. He would need a few hours of sleep, and since the other party had also bivouacked for the night, he could rest for a while.

Currently, with Ayoub and Ali imprisoned, he was outnumbered, but soon, he would have a powerful ally on his side: the Sahara desert.

***

Some 20 miles before Caceres, Gabriela spotted an abandoned parking lot and, ignoring the »Access Denied«-sign, she drove onto it, hoping that it hadn’t been blocked for some serious issues. Both Melissa and Johanna had dozed off, and whilst the blonde sat up when the car stopped, Melissa was still sleeping, allowing Gabriela to wake her with a kiss.

»Here we are! Ten minutes rest!«

Ana forced herself to stay calm, but she was very alert, knowing that now, she would be left outside the car, though most likely under some surveillance. She looked if there was any sign of other cars or people, but Gabriela had chosen a remote place where a woman in underwear that also was bound and gagged would not raise attention.

Sato took the opportunity to get into the bushes to also follow nature whilst Johanna kept an eye on the highway, her hand on the honk to warn the others if a car would show up. So, it was on Gabriela and Melissa to help Ana relieving herself.

Since neither of them wanted to carry their hostage, and since they also wanted to spare her hopping, Melissa freed Ana’s legs, but used one of the ropes to tie a noose around her neck, using the other end like a leash.

»Sorry for that, but we have to be careful!«

Ana grunted, but she followed the two towards a group of bushes. Here, Gabriela asked:

»Just – well, small business?«

An angry Ana nodded, and Gabriela loosened her crotch rope, careful not to touch the woman’s private parts. Then, she ostentatiously looked at Ana’s face when she peeled her panties down to her knees.

»We will now turn around! Just hurry up!«

With Melissa still holding the leash, both girls turned their backs towards her, and Ana, though she was furious with rage and embarrassment, indeed squatted and peed. She could not understand what the two were talking about, but she was still looking for a chance to escape.

»That’s it! I am losing my job, even if I don’t end up in prison!«

She spoke German, and Melissa took Gabriela’s hand, brushing over her skin with her thumb. She could understand her dilemma, as it was the same for her. Melissa had been a Policewoman, albeit shortly, and now, they were both committing a serious crime, though with the best intentions. To make matters worse, Ana even was a colleague, and they should be on her side, actually.

Ana saw the two holding hands, and though she didn’t understand their conversation, she could see that they were more than just friends. The Japanese was nowhere to be seen, and Johanna was in the car.

»It’s just some 100 metres to the highway, and there are still some cars! It will be more than embarrassing to be seen like that, but-«

She rose and slightly shook her legs, so the panties slid down to her ankles, allowing her to step out of them. Going bottomless would be even  more embarrassing, but she could not run with the garment entangled around her feet.

»Uuuhhmph!«

Her kick hit Melissa’s back. Ana hadn’t been able to put much impetus in it, and so, she didn’t land on her belly, but she staggered, and, even more, she let go the leash. Ana rammed her shoulder against Gabriela and then darted towards the road that led to the highway.

She ignored the sounds from behind her, ignored that she could not breathe properly, just concentrated on running. Between the parking lot and the highway was the crash barrier and also a row of thorny bushes, forcing her to use the entrance. In just a few seconds, someone would see her and-

Something tackled her legs, and Ana fell forward. Luckily, she landed on the grass, but with her arms still tied, it was her breasts that cushioned her fall. Ana struggled and flailed, and she managed to free one leg, enabling her to blindly kick at her attacker. She heard a shriek of pain, and for a moment, Ana felt pure gleeful joy. She tried to get to her feet, but now, the other woman threw herself upon her, pressing her head down to the ground. Ana continued to struggle, but now, Sato also arrived, and they managed to wrestle her down, and when the Japanese had used the end of her leash to tie her ankles, putting her in a hogtie, she knew that she had lost this battle. Looking after the vanishing rear light of a lorry, she screamed into Johanna’s panties with sheer frustration.

»That bitch kicked me! She hit my nose!«

It was Gabriela, speaking in a nasal falsetto as she was pressing a hand to her nose.

»Is it broken? Let me see, Gaby!«

Melissa took Gabriela’s hand to remove it, and when she saw the blood, something in Melissa’s head clicked. With a scream, she spun around to Ana who was lying on her belly, with Sato squatting beside her.

»You hit her, you bitch! I-«

She raised her foot, and Ana’s eyes widened. Sato raised his hand to stop her, and the remnants of her self-control stopped Melissa from kicking her helpless victim. However, she needed a valve for her anger.

»She’s bleeding, you bitch!«

With slapping sounds, her hand landed on Ana’s buttocks, five or six times, and the girl screamed into her gag and tried to crawl away. Then, a hand grabbed Melissa’s wrist. It was Gabriela, and she pulled her away from Ana.

»It’s okay, Lizzie! It’s not broken, and I think the bleeding stopped, too! I am okay, Sweetie!«

She hugged Melissa who slung her arms around Gabriela in an almost ferocious way.

»She hit you!«, she sobbed, and for a while, the two just stood there in a tight embrace. Sato looked at Ana whose reddened buttocks indicated that Melissa had not given her a playful spanking.

»Consider this a warning to never even think of hurting Johanna!«

Then, he chuckled and added:

»Haven’t you been wearing panties when we last met?«

Ana couldn’t help that her cheeks reddened. Sato put her over his shoulder, and with her feet tied to the noose around her neck, she had to concentrate on preventing the rope of getting too tight and didn’t dare to struggle at all. On the way, he picked up Ana’s pink panties, and at the car, he placed the girl onto the backseat.

»What happened? I could only see you running and fighting!«, An excited Johanna asked. Sato took her hand and gave a quick report of Ana’s escape attempt. Moments later, Melissa and Gabriela arrived, and Melissa used the handkerchiefs Johanna had bought to wipe the blood from her friend’s face. To both girls’ relief, her nose was indeed not badly hurt, and the only problem were a few blood stains on Gabriela’s uniform blouse.

Sato had meanwhile freed Ana’s ankles and put her panties back on her, kneeling on the small of her back to steady her. He reapplied the crotch rope, tighter this time, and once again tied her legs, including her big toes. Furthermore, he again hogtied the girl, though this time, her ankles were fixed to the ropes tied around her upper body instead of her neck.

»When we enter the ferry, she has to go into the boot! Maybe, we should get her used to that place right now!«

Sato finished the bondage by taping Ana’s fingers, and with the help of Melissa who had calmed down, but obviously still held no sympathy for her Spanish colleague, they stowed her in the boot.

»What a hellcat! I am really not envying you, Sato!«

When the Japanese frowned, she added with a grin:

»Have you forgotten that you will have to hide in the boot, too, when we are on the ferry?«

Johanna already sat behind the wheel, and Sato took the passenger seat, enjoying to look at Johanna’s bare lower legs, but not daring to touch her knee. Gabriela had cuddled against Melissa on the backseat, and her face indeed showed no more traces of the kick, except for her nose being a bit swollen.

»If someone notices the blood stains, I will say that I was too clumsy to drink my coffee!«, she stated, closing her eyes and smiling as Melissa gently brushed over her nose.

Melissa wasn’t smiling, though she continued caressing Gabriela and felt the other’s hand on hers. Her thoughts were partially by their hostage whom she could hear moaning, since she had opened the bendable backrest a bit, to ensure Ana got enough air. Her rage had vanished, and she now just felt that she had taken another step away from being a defender of law and order.

***