Blonde Needles in a Giant Haystack 11

Having reached the »Hotel Alcalde«, Gabriela wondered why the clerk smirked at her mentioning Johanna’s name, but she didn’t further question it as John, having realized that they would only have two rooms, tried to negotiate with the man. It gave her the opportunity to have a few moments with Melissa, and so, she pranced up the stairs.

On the corridor, a smile formed on her lips when Melissa ran towards her – only to grab her by the shoulders and hiss:

»Ana! Where is she?«

Gabriela’s eyes widened, and she seemed puzzled.

»W-With you?«

With an annoyed grunt, Melissa spun around, and now, Gabriela could see she was carrying her gun. She began to realize that somehow, Ana must have escaped.

Gabriela could tell for sure that Ana wasn’t in the lobby, and she looked at both sides of the corridor. There were some locked doors, and behind none, she could see a sign of the fugitive.

»She hit me and ran out of the door!«, Melissa briefed her, »but she’s still bound and gagged!«

Leaving Gabriela at the staircase, Melissa sneaked to the end of the corridor leading away from their rooms. She feared that there was a second staircase and that by now, Ana was running onto the street, attracting someone’s attention. If that happened, they would all be either on the run or end up in a Moroccan prison.

A door opened, and in the last moment, Melissa managed to hide the gun behind her back, realizing it was an entire family, most likely Moroccans, with three or four chatting children. She leaned against the wall, showing a nervous smile, allowing the family to pass when she saw a movement at another door. It was Ana, still sporting the headscarf and the coat, but the scarf tied over her face had slipped, revealing her gagged mouth.

»Aaaawww! Is that Darth Vader?«

It was Gabriela’s high-pitched voice, and she had bent down to one of the children, a boy of maybe five years who obviously wore a Star Wars T-Shirt. In the fraction of a second, Melissa realized that Gabriela tried to distract the Moroccans, and she drew her gun, aiming at Ana whilst turning her back to the family.

Ana mewed, but it was drowned by the boy’s chatting. Ignoring the language barrier, he talked to Gabriela who continued to act as if the boy was literally the iconic figure himself. Melissa stepped closer, held her gun to Ana’s chest and hissed:

»You sure don’t want to risk the life of these children!«

Panting, Ana watched with horror and disbelief as the Moroccans, obviously a bit disturbed by Gabriela’s enthusiasm, rushed down the stairs without looking at her. Her heart sank when moments later, John stepped onto the corridor.

Ten seconds later, Ana was sitting on the bed, watched by three pairs of eyes. Johanna stepped out of the bathroom, a bit confused about the commotion she had not heard due to the noisy air conditioner.

»We were careless!«, Melissa stated, »careless, but lucky!«

She quickly tied Ana’s feet and leashed them to the bed post. Then, she gave a quick summary of Ana’s escape attempt. John, not yet sure about the dynamics of these three, tried a diplomatic approach:

»Such things may happen – we just have to take care they won’t happen again!«

It was a reasonable thought, but Melissa suddenly jumped up, raising her hands.

»And for how long? I mean, it all started as a necessary measurement; then, we had to take her hostage until we made it to Morocco, and now? Shall we have her with us, bound and gagged, forever?«

In the silence that followed her outburst, they could hear Ana gulp; she knew that one alternative to what Melissa had just said was to kill her, and though she didn’t consider her captors to be ruthless killers, they also were desperate.

Johanna stepped towards Ana, and though the bound Policewoman tried to avoid it, she took her head between her hands, gently, but forcing her to look at her.

»Look, to say we did have a bad start would be an understatement, and I definitely would like to take back – some of the things I did!«

»Mph!«

Johanna took a deep breath. She had earned her living, a good living, by her ability to put things into words, and now, it was more essential than ever.

»Ana, we are on the same side – though in a very strange way! We are after some really bad criminals, and we want to see justice to be done as much as you do!«

John avoided to comment on that, for he was following the interests of Davenport who could not be called a man of justice.

»So, if you get us arrested, you risk that these criminals escape! You would waste a bullet shooting a mouse if you could hit a lion!«

Ana frowned, and Johanna chuckled, showing her smile Sato was such a fan of.

»Okay, I was never good at metaphors, even when I was not improvising! Anyway, the thing is that we would love to let you go – but we can’t risk getting caught minutes later we did so!«

She loosened her grip, and Ana still looked at her. She had managed to get her attention, and Johanna knew that her next words were essential.

»Even if you’d give your word, you could just say that it was an oath under pressure, and rightfully so! So, let me make you an offer you can’t refuse instead!«

Ana snorted, perhaps commenting the movie reference.

»Tomorrow, we will go on our mission to free three innocent women, and to bring some evil guys behind bars! To do so, we will of course have to leave the town, and once we are at a point where we will have a head start, even if you run for the Police immediately, we will set you free and you may do whatever you think has to be done!«

She paused, waiting for reactions from the others. Melissa just nodded slightly, and Gabriela seemed to agree, too. John shrugged.

»Sounds like a plan to me!«

»So, what do you say Ana? Just another ten or twelve hours with us, in exchange for getting out of this unharmed? Deal?«

After some hesitating, Ana nodded.

***

At the outpost, the hours passed in a treacherous calmness. The men, even Cory, seemed to prefer relaxing to taunting their captives and so, they could remain relatively unrestrained for the moment. Of course, they were stark naked which alone made them stay out of the sun, and with their ankles cuffed together, they couldn’t have run anyway. It was embarrassing enough to use the outhouse that way, with one having to stand beside the ajar door.

Dalanda couldn’t help repeatedly touching her freshly shaved pubic mound. There was a slight irritation of her skin, not painful, not even a real itch, but nevertheless, she could feel it, and it reminded her of the embarrassment of the removal of her pubic hair. However, the feeling of smooth skin instead of fuzzy hair there was also intriguing, and she had to admit it wasn’t an unpleasant touch.

She glimpsed at Babette, hoping she wouldn’t notice her rubbing over her middle. Still, they hadn’t talked much, except when they had to coordinate their little walks. The girls were allowed to refresh themselves with water from the well, and the men had also deposited some food there.

»I wonder what this ominous Colonel wants with us«, Carmen finally broke the silence. With a scoff, she added:

»I mean, wanting some blondes for his harem would be too much of a cliché, wouldn’t it?«

»Plus some black bycatch, hm?«, Dalanda asked, more passive-aggressive than she actually felt. After all, her capture had been a coincidence, and she couldn’t blame the other girls for it. Inga, lying on her back with her arms folded under her head, added:

»At least, you have some experience as being a trophy wife, Carmen! And without you, we wouldn’t be in this mess now!«

Indeed, Carmen’s abduction of Johanna had started the chain of events that had led to them getting shipped away by Ben and his men, naked, bound and gagged. Carmen turned towards Inga, panting and about to shout something; then, her expression softened, and she lowered her head.

»Sorry!«, she breathed. Inga scoffed.

»A bit too late for regret!«

She didn’t sound really reproachful, though. After all, she had assisted in Johanna’s abduction. Babette, who had remained silent, pointed at the open door through which a dust cloud could be seen.

»There’s a car coming!«

A spark of hope shot through them, but it vanished before the car was even close, as their captors didn’t seem to see it as a threat: so, it was Ben and the others returning to their camp.

The Jeep stopped in front of the door, and, accompanied by some shouting, the men started to carry several bags and boxes inside. Inga frowned.

»There’s an eighth man!«

The mysterious figure wore a shabby djellaba and a turban, making him look like a Bedouin. He assisted in carrying goods, but he obviously left the heavier lifting to Ben’s henchmen.

»He must have hired a guide!«, Carmen stated, and somehow, the arrival of this new man made them all aware of their nudity, and they sat up, bending their legs and slinging their arms around to hide their bareness. The Bedouin glimpsed at them, and one of the mercenaries patted his shoulder, obviously explaining to him why there were four naked women at the abandoned outpost. If it bothered him, the man didn’t show it too much.

Ben approached them, now wearing a broad-rimmed hat. With a jovial grin, he said:

»We should have taken you with us! We spent hours walking from shop to shop to get more or less all we need for our next stage!«

He turned serious and waved towards the Bedouin who approached them. He had put an edge of his turban over his face, so only his eyes were free. Eyes that grew bigger as he could see more of the four nude women.

»Meet Mr. Wassim, our guide through the Berm!«

The name hit Dalanda like a hammer, and now, as she looked closer, she recognized his eyes. Her breath accelerated. This was »her« Wassim – the man she had escaped from, only to run into Ben and his men. What was that supposed to mean?

Before she could react, however, Ben’s voice distracted her.

»We might be in the middle of nowhere, but there’s still such a thing as courtesy! So, would you mind greeting Mr. Wassim in an appropriate way?«

»Or what?«, Inga snapped, and Ben’s voice turned sharper:

»Then, we might also forget about courtesy and behave like wild predators!«

Carmen sighed and got to her feet, followed by Inga who did so ostentatiously slow. Babette also stood up, and finally Dalanda did so, feeling very awkward under Wassim’s gaze, and shielding her breasts and middle with her arms. She felt the urge to expose the man, but on the other hand – perhaps, he had come to get her out of this, and she had managed to escape from this man before. So, she bit her lip and stared at her feet.

»Now, put your hands on your hips, drop a nice curtsey and give Mr. Wassim a hearty welcome!«

»Rövjävel!«, Inga muttered before she put her hands on her hips, provocatively thrusting out her breasts. Carmen and Babette did the same with less defiance, and Dalanda, seeing no point in resisting, also took the required pose, feeling her cheeks burn as she saw Wassim seeing her in the nude for the first time. She could literally imagine him licking his lips under his veiled face.

»Salam aleikum, Mr. Wassim!«, the girls sang in chorus and curtseyed. Wassim slightly bowed and seemed a bit nervous. Ben nodded and with a gesture allowed them to sit down again.

»We will soon have dinner, and I suggest that you take some more rest, for the next part of the trip will be straining for all of us!«

***

At the hotel room, they had had an improvised dinner, consisting of bread, cheese and water. Ana had been allowed to participate; with all of her captors around, she had not tried to call for help when she had been ungagged. They had also freed her from her bonds and allowed her to use the windowless bathroom before she had been tied to the bed, clad in just her bra and panties, and gagged with just some tape.

They now had to face the problem of how to sleep. The two rooms had been divided between the sexes, and the other room also had two narrow beds, but no couch. Jeb, tall and bulky as he was, barely fit into one of the beds which left John and Sato with the equally uncomfortable options to either sleep in shifts or to share the second bed.

»I remember having seen a few blankets at the load of the truck!«, Sato stated and left the room. The truck was parked behind the hotel, and he lifted the tarpaulin to climb onto the load. There were indeed a few old military blankets stacked in a corner, and though they had seen better days, he could build a makeshift bed that was comfortable enough.

»I am sure this bastard Jeb’s a snorer!«

The parking lot was rather quiet, and Sato was about to doze off when he heard the sound of the truck’s door open and close, followed by soft steps approaching the load. He reached for his gun. Whoever it was, he wasn’t too careful, for he tugged on the tarpaulin. He relaxed a bit; if this was just a local thief, he could scare him off without having to use his weapon.

A hand reached inside, and he could sense from the slight sway that the intruder was climbing up to enter the load. What was this fool expecting to find? Gold? Jewels? He soundlessly got up, ready to land a punch when he heard a faint thud, followed by an »Ouch!« – uttered by a female. Sato frowned when in the next moment, a light went on. It was the flashlight of a cell phone, and in its light, he could see blonde curls.

»Johanna-Chan?«

The figure gasped, and the light fell upon him. Sato relaxed his fist and she held the phone in a way that he could see she had changed for a T-Shirt and pyjama trousers.

»Two fools, one thought!«

At her room, Melissa and Gabriela had not hesitated to share one of the beds; in fact, Johanna had sensed their thinly veiled anticipation. She, however, had not been too thrilled to sleep aside Ana who also occupied most of the bed due to being fixed to the bed posts. So, she had also considered to give the truck a try and, since the front seats looked inconvenient, had also decided to enter the load.

»So – you want me to find another place to sleep?«, Sato asked. Johanna shook her head.

»You’ve been here first!«

She let the light wander over Sato’s bed, consisting of two blankets as a mattress and one for covering. Suddenly, an unusual impetus made her ask:

»Would you mind if I stay?«

»Not in the slightest, Johanna-Chan!«

They cuddled under the blanket, keeping some distance to each other, and Johanna switched off the light. It wasn’t completely dark, and she could still make out the features of his face. It felt all too natural when his hand touched her arm, and she shuffled a little closer, so the tips of her breasts touched his chest. Johanna still wore her bra underneath her T-Shirt, but she nevertheless sensed a slight tingle. Sato brushed over her arm.

»Did you get hurt when you climbed up here?«

»Just hit my leg!«

Surprised by herself, she slightly bent her leg, and with a hoarse voice, she added:

»At the left knee!«

She let out a fluttering breath when Sato’s hand wandered down her flank and hip until he touched her knee. The bruise was insignificant, but she directed his fingers and when his thumb massaged her kneecap whilst his other fingers caressed the back of her knee, she cuddled closer and pushed her arm under his, so she could brush over his back. She closed her eyes and arched her head a bit, and as if he had gotten the nonverbal signal, she felt his hand at her neck, gently caressing her carotid and playing with her earlobe.

After a while, the hand on her knee pulled slightly, and Johanna bent her leg a bit more. Sato’s hand went over her calf and to her foot, pulling it towards him, so he could grab it. When his thumb brushed over her instep, she no longer oppressed her sigh, and she cuddled even closer. There were four layers of cloth between his middle and hers, her panties and pyjama trousers, and Sato’s jeans and shorts. And yet, she could feel his manhood, and she knew that he could sense the warmth of her lap.

***

The meal had been more than frugal, just some fruits and sandwiches, poured down with water. After that, the men changed into djellabas and turbans, so they looked similar to Wassim who sat beside, occasionally looking at the girls. Dalanda had not told the others about him; she still had no idea whether he would try to help or had just decided that Ben’s money was better than loyalty to his Sheikh, and she also didn’t want to raise false hope.

The men, except for Ben and Wassim, did a tug-of-war, and the girls were surprised at the calm seriousness of that contest. After a few minutes, Ben clapped his hands.

»I think I could see what I needed to see! Now, it’s time to pack!«

Jean and Barrot approached the captives and Inga was freed from the cuff. Instead, Carmen was tied to Babette’s free ankle, and the two men made the Swede stand opposite her fellow captives before they tied her wrists behind her back. Her elbows were next, and the others couldn’t help staring at her breasts as she had to thrust them out, accompanied by a faint ache. Barrot then grabbed Inga’s scalp and forced her to bend down to Carmen.

»Say Goodbye to your partner in cuffs!«

Jean grabbed Carmen’s hair, and they forced the two to kiss before Inga was led towards the other men where the three other girls could watch her further bondage.

Her long legs wee tied together from the top of her thighs down to her ankles, with cinching, and they also tied her insteps and big toes, turning her legs into one quite immovable limb. She was then made to stand, and she couldn’t oppress an ache as the tension of her leg muscles tightened the ropes. Ben playfully slapped his forehead.

»We should have applied that before – well, it will go like that, too!«

Having heard that, a grinning Barrot slung a double rope around Inga’s waist and seemed to enjoy her fuming when he pushed the ends between her legs, applying a tight crotch rope to her. Ben whispered something into her ear, and the girls could guess from her angry hissing and her heaving chest that the information hadn’t been too pleasant.

Gagging Inga started with the burgundy red French Knickers that were forced into her mouth. She had been gagged with these before, but they had then hooded Dalanda, and her dried sweat added to the vile taste. Barrot stuffed the garment as deep as the strong man could manage, then grabbed a rag with a giant knot in it. The knot was pressed on top of the panties, and he tied the ends at Inga’s nape, so tight it cut into the corners of her mouth. An ace bandage was wrapped over the lower half of her face next, secured by a narrow leather strap. Barrot had another cloth, and he slung it over the top of the Swede’s head, crossing the ends under her chin and forcing her to bite down hard on her gag before he knotted them off and secured the whole lot with a second leather strap. Jean handed him something, presumably cotton wool, and they stuffed the girl’s ears before a pantyhose – most likely not her own – was pulled over her head so the crotch part was over her nose and the legs knotted around her neck. The final layer was tape that was wound several times around both her eyes and her mouth.

The helpless girl was then wrapped into a blanket that was secured with another 50 feet of rope, turning her into a cocoon that could barely wriggle. Only the top of her hooded head protruded on one side, her feet on the other. Barrot took a stick, and with considerable force, he hit her soles. The three girls protested, but Inga could just twitch. At least, the man didn’t repeat the beating.

Next was Carmen, and in her case, Ben examined how she was trussed up similar to Inga. When she was made to stand and her chest heaved as she tried to cope with the tight ropes, he stepped forward and brushed over her cheek.

»Maybe, you would prefer if I put the crotch rope on you, Carmen?«

In her case, a long scarf was used, and Ben tied several knots into the ends that ran between her legs. Before he knotted the ends off, he repeatedly pulled on them, causing the knots to rub over Carmen’s intimate areas.

»In Inga’s case, we used wet leather, so if she doesn’t keep it moist, it will become even more inconvenient! You, however, may just enjoy!«

He placed a soft kiss on Carmen’s lips before he stepped aside, allowing Barrot to gag her with Inga’s white Lycra panties and a knotted cleave gag, followed by the bandage and a narrow belt. Before her jaw was fixed, he once again kissed her forehead.

Carmen was also hooded and further gagged and blindfolded with tape before she was rolled into a second blanket. She was also not spared the hard slap onto her soles, and now, it was Babette’s turn. She moaned when her arms were tied, as the elbow tie was above and below the joints that were painfully pressed together.

Being »partners in cuffs«, she and Dalanda were forced to kiss, too, before Babette’s legs were securely tied. Cory stepped towards her and groped her breasts, causing her to shout at him. The man shrugged and pulled a leather thong from his belt. It dripped with water.

»You could have had the scarf, but if you are that bitchy!«

Babette mewed when the thong was tied between her labia, and when Cory gleefully informed her what would happen when the leather dried, she trembled with fear. Then, she retched as she was gagged with Dalanda’s panties that tasted foul. Obviously not content with the size of the gag, Cory added one of his socks before a knotted cloth, bandage and belt completed the gag.

Things got worse, however, when the cloth was pulled over her head and Babette had to close her jaw. Harder and harder, she had to bite down on the vile-tasting gag, and when the belt was buckled in place, she felt she couldn’t move her jaw for the fraction of an inch.

The feeling of complete helplessness increased when her ears were stuffed, and when she was hooded and blindfolded, Babette panted with fear. She felt that she was wrapped into the blanket, and then, there was the explosion of pain in her soles.

»Gllggg!«

A faint chortle was all she could make, deep in the back of her throat. The way she was gagged, forced to bite down on her gag and unable to move her jaws in the slightest, ensured she could make no real sound, except for some faint, throaty chortles, inaudible to her.

Dalanda panicked when they came for her. She fought against the strong arms grabbing her, and she wanted to yell at Wassim to spare her, but Barrot slung his arm around her lower face, stifling her protests with his biceps. Squirming and gurgling, the girl was trussed up, and since she was »to be tamed«, she got a crotch rope made of wet leather, too. Barrot withdrew his arm, but only to allow Jean to work the two remaining panties into her oral cavity. Dalanda still fought, but Barrot pinched her nose shut, and so, Jean could cram all the silk in and secure it in the same way as the others. When Dalanda had her jaw fixed and continued screaming, she realized she could make no sound. She tried again, and her heaving chest and widened eyes gave prove of her effort, though only a faint humming could be heard.

Her ears were stuffed, and she tried to buck for one last time, earning her a hard slap on her buttocks before she was hooded and blindfolded. Before she was wrapped into her blanket, Ben approached Wassim and asked:

»I know that silence is on the agenda! But do you think that this will be too loud?«

He drew the vibrator he had saved from the yacht and switched it on. Wassim, more than slightly puzzled, listened to the barely audible buzzing and finally shook his head. With a grin, Ben shoved the vibrator deep between Dalanda’s legs.

»Maybe, that will help her to calm down!«, he thought loudly whilst the girl was turned into cocoon number four. Since the girl had already proved the effectiveness of her gag, she was spared the scream test and didn’t get her soles hit.

»All right, let’s go!«

The tug-of-war had been held to figure out who were the strongest of them. So, Barrot who had won the contest had to carry Inga who weighed most. He put the bundle over his shoulder, playfully slapping her buttocks through the blanket. Nico, Marco and Jean carried the other three girls, with Marco taking care he got Dalanda whose trembling he could feel even through the layers of the blanket.

Ben, Sid and Cory also carried something: each had a big backpack with the most essential equipment, each weighing some 60 lbs. Only Wassim, the guide, went without luggage except for a small backpack that contained his provision.

They would have to walk some 15 miles until the next spot where they could rest, and some five miles would be through a vast mine field. It was the reason they went on foot: Wassim knew a route through the danger zone, but with a car, this would have been too risky. Also, in the night, the risk of being seen was smaller, but the cold air carried sounds very far, thus an engine was impossible. It was also why they would communicate via signs and whispers and why they had taken so much care in silencing the girls.

»As agreed, Wassim!«, Ben said, grabbing Wassim’s arm in a vice grip. »Five Grand once we have made contact with the Colonel – and a bullet if you are trying to betray us!«

Wassim nodded, and he didn’t have to fake his nervousness. His plan was risky – but if he was successful, the 5000 Dollar would be just pocket money in comparison to what he could achieve.

He walked on, and the others followed him in silence, taking care to stay in his footsteps. Wassim took a deep breath. The part of his story that he knew a way through the mines had been true, but of course, the Moroccans could have changed the positions or added a few more in the meantime, and if so, each step could literally be his last.

***

»Lizzie?«

»Hm?«

»Do you think she is sleeping?«

Gabriela whispered as soft as a breeze, and she didn’t need to point to the other bed to make clear to whom she was referring. Melissa glimpsed at Ana who had turned her head to the wall, so she couldn’t tell whether their captive was still awake.

»Why are you asking?«

They were forced to cuddle close to each other, since the bed was quite narrow. Their bare feet were entangled, and though they more T-Shirts and panties, as they were not alone, they had taken off their bras and Melissa could clearly feel Gabriela’s breasts touch her own. She let her hand wander down Gabriela’s back, to the hem of Her T-Shirt, and she touched the smooth satin of her panties. Gabriela didn’t shy back, but she breathed:

»What we have done to Ana – does the goal really justify the means?«

Melissa sighed. So, the Portuguese wanted some deep talk instead of intensifying whatever was between the two of them. She had asked herself the same question, over and over again. And when she answered, it sounded like an apology:

»If we hadn’t done it, Sato would be in jail, and maybe Johanna, too! At least, we are following a promising lead – thanks to Sato’s connections!«

After some hesitation, she added:

»Besides, tomorrow, it will be over for her!«

She was referring to Johanna’s promise to Ana to let her go, but once the words had slipped her mouth, Melissa knew that it could also mean to kill their hostage. She knew that Johanna had meant what she had said, and neither she nor her or Gabriela intended to commit such a crime. She was also almost sure Sato wouldn’t do so – but there were still the two other men. They had not protested at Johanna’s offer, but on the other hand, these were the henchmen of a criminal businessman.

She looked at Ana, who had been so determined, despite being bound and gagged. In a way, she felt a close connection to her – under other circumstances, they could have been colleagues, maybe even friends. And she knew that Gabriela was thinking similarly.

»Ana will not get hurt!«, she whispered, with much more confidence in her voice than in her heart. Gabriela remained silent; then, she cuddled closer, so Melissa felt her warm breath on her lips.

»Promise me that you don’t get hurt, too!«

»Only if you promise the same!«, Melissa replied, and her hand pushed under Gabriela’s T-Shirt, felt her hot naked flank.

»What are you doing?«

Gabriela sounded rather curious than appalled, and Melissa felt higher, until the tips of her fingers touched Gabriela’s breast.

»In Germany, we have a saying: ›Hand auf’s Herz!‹ It means ›Hand on Heart‹ literally, but we use this expression if we mean something very honestly!«

Gabriela gasped when Melissa cupped her breast, but then, she cocked her head and frowned at Melissa:

»Doesn’t the saying mean you have to put your hand at your own heart?«

Before Melissa could even feel a bit disappointed, she chuckled and bent forward, kissing her lips.

»On the other hand, you are the native speaker, so you know better for sure! And since I am always willing to learn-«

She pushed her hand under Melissa’s T-Shirt, and though her fingers were a little cold, their touch felt blissful to Melissa when she had found her goal.

»Hand auf’s Herz!«, the whispered in unison.

***