Blonde Needles in a Giant Haystack 15

»Now, I need a few volunteers for the grand finale!«

Ben let his eyes wander over the forest of raised hands and showed his broad grin. During the last hour, the show, though actually quite simply choreographed, had caught his audience. In a row of simple games and dances, Inga had now lost all her clothes, standing in nothing but her handcuffs and the red ball gag, whilst Carmen still sported the piece of curtain string tied around her waist. From it, a last piece of transparent cloth dangled over her pubic area. Both girls were covered with sweat and on the brink of exhaustion.

On Ben’s orders, the soldiers tied two ropes to the sides of the stairs leading up to the podium and used them to build a corridor towards the stairs leading to the second floor. The corridor was some two yards wide, and the distance between 30 and 40 yards. To both sides, the soldiers leaned against the ropes, further narrowing the corridor.

The hooting ceased when Ben made Inga and Carmen stand side by side. The latter got her hands cuffed behind her back, too, and Nico added short ropes around their elbows, forcing them to thrust out their sweat-glistering boobs. Carmen let out a small gasp when Ben plucked the cloth from her belt, exposing her neatly trimmed triangle of pubic hair.

The crowd murmured when Barrot brought a canister of an item the garrison had no shortage of: olive oil. The humming rose to cheering and thumping of feet when Ben chose four men who were ordered to pour oil over the girls’ bodies and massage every square inch of their skin. Carmen staggered, and Inga’s blush not only covered her cheeks, but also her neck and cleavage.

When both naked girls stood dripping with oil, Ben shooed the men back to their comrades. He tied a piece of rope around Inga’s waist, and there was a little protest from the audience when he placed a cloth there on both women, once again covering their crotches.

Carmen mewed when he took two clothespins and fixed two more rags to her nipples. Ben winked and whispered:

»Don’t worry, the show’s almost over!«

Inga stared daggers at him when he pinned two cloths to the tops of her breasts, too. Then, he went for the crowd:

»Now, every man who wants to participate in the last game has to put his left hand into his belt, behind the back!«

The soldiers quickly obeyed, pushing each other aside and soon, two rows of wavering right arms were reaching into the corridor. The men had an idea what the game would be about, and Ben didn’t disappoint them:

»Miss Carmen and Miss Inga want to retreat – but to do so, they have to pass that corridor! Maybe, you want to try to persuade them to stay a little longer?«

The crowd cheered, and Ben explained the rules: no stepping over the ropes, nor use of the left hand. He stepped behind the girls and whispered:

»Don’t worry, Barrot will get you out if things get too nasty!«

He playfully slapped their buttocks and then wiped his oily fingers with his handkerchief. Inga looked at the narrow sandy path, barely visible through the waving hands of the waiting men. A hand reached out, touching her toes.

Taking a deep breath, Inga stomped onto the man’s fingers; then, she jumped down the stairs and started to sprint. She was a tall and athletic girl, and the oil prevented the men from getting a firm grip. In addition, the rule of them only being allowed to use one hand was to her advantage, too. Nevertheless, it was pure agony, and she felt the slaps on her breasts, thighs and buttocks as she worked her way forward.

Carmen tried to follow in her wake, but she staggered, and when she hit the sandy ground, hands were everywhere. She mewed in panic and kicked blindly, flailing her legs as she desperately tried to get back onto her feet. When she had finally made it towards the goal line, too, Carmen was covered with a mixture of oil and sand, and she was unable to stand on her wobbly legs. Beside her, Inga stood, panting and with her upper body bent forward so her breasts dangled down. The cloths from their nipples and crotches had vanished and were waved around by the lucky men who had managed to pluck them.

The show was over, though Ben had a little desert for his audience: Both Inga and Carmen were led towards the balcony on the second floor where their arms were freed. They had to lean onto the railing and stand side by side, their legs spread, so the men had a good view of their nude fronts. Barrot and Nico used bronze scrapers to remove the breading of oil and sand from their skins, and Sid and Cory used damp cloths to wash their reddened skin. The procedure was humiliating, but also refreshing, and when they were led back into the bedroom, both girls felt clean and tired. The ball gags were removed, and they greedily drank the offered water once they had sunk down to the bed.

»All right, take five and then get ready for the second act!«

Ben chuckled when two pairs of widened eyes stared at him. Carmen just sighed, whilst Inga showed him her middle finger and murmured something in Swedish.

Jean brought a tray with some bread, cheese, meat skewers and fruits, and to their surprise, both girls were ravenous. Ben produced a bottle of wine and a glass, but instead of drinking some or offering it to the girls, he gave a few orders to his men.

Not being rude, but also in a way that showed the captives resistance would be punished, they tied the girls to the bedframe, albeit in a way that wasn’t too restrictive: They just cuffed their wrists to the upper bedposts, so they could stretch and move on the mattress and even avoid touching each other.

The men then withdrew, leaving only Ben behind. He undressed, but, obviously wanting to show the two that he didn’t intent going too far, he kept on his shorts. He put some wine into the glass and tasted it like a connoisseur, shaking his head with an apologetic smile.

»Somewhere between barely drinkable and pure vinegar, but still the best this place has to offer! You want to taste?«

He stepped over to Carmen and dipped two of his fingers into the glass before placing them onto her lips. For a moment, Carmen considered turning her head or even biting him, but she was too exhausted to fight, and in addition, the gesture was, though intimate, gentle. So, she just parted her soft lips and licked the wine drops from his fingers. It was indeed far from being exquisite, but there had been times in Carmen’s life where she had been drinking worse stuff. Ben offered her a few more drops via his fingers, and he stated with a smile.

»A bit scratchy, I know! I hope you are not blaming my fingers for that!«

Involuntarily, Carmen smiled, and Ben brushed over her cheek, soft as a breeze. He went over to Inga who hissed:

»If you want to try that stunt on me, you better only use those fingers you won’t miss!«

Ben just shrugged, emptied the glass and put it onto the shelf. When he turned back towards the bed, he was holding Inga’s crumpled panties in his hands. The Swede sighed.

»So, you only know one way of dealing with opinionated women?«

She leaned back and opened her mouth, waiting to be gagged. When instead, she felt the slight tickle of Ben pushing her feet through the leg openings, she was a bit puzzled and watched him slide the garment up her long legs. He stopped at about mid-thigh, forcing her to rear up her pelvis to get them over her buttocks, but he made no attempt of groping her when he put them onto her.

Carmen got the French Knickers still slightly damp with Inga’s sweat. Before he pulled them over her loins, Ben frowned at her thatch of pubic hair.

»You really should be more careful when playing in the sand!«

He gently plucked a few grains of sand from her pubic mound, and Carmen let out a fluttering breath. The touch sent an irritating, yet not unpleasant tingle through her loins, and when she reared up to allow Ben to pull the panties in place, she slightly swayed her hips.

Ben climbed onto the bed and placed himself between the two girls. Inga turned onto her side, so only her butt touched his body, and Ben chuckled before placing his hand on Carmen’s belly, caressing her tummy as he looked at her, obviously liking what he saw.

»Try to sleep, sweet Carmen – tomorrow’s another busy day!«

***

»Be careful what you wish for!«

It was a saying that was the basis of quite a few famous stories, and of course, Johanna knew it all too well. And right now, she got some practice in what it meant if a wish came true, only to become a blessing in disguise.

When the trip had continued, she and Gabriela had had little control over their movements, and their breasts had rubbed over each other as the truck had rolled over the uneven terrain. She had tried to lean backwards, but that had only meant to press her pubic mound harder against Gabriela’s, and so, their grinding breasts was the better option, though at least, they still had their panties.

Working on their bonds had not been an option: the ropes tying their wrists and connecting them to their napes were tied off at their throats, well out of reach, and though the nooses weren’t too tight, they had to take care not to pull too hard on them. Their gags were sealed in well, and Johanna was forced to chew on the Portuguese’s socks that tasted vile.

Beside them, both Melissa and Ana were little better off – maybe even worse, as these two were no friends, whilst she and Gabriela at least were allies.

When the truck had hit some bumps, the enforced abuse of her breasts as air bags against her companion had caused Johanna to wish that the trip would come to an end soon. A few minutes later, there had been an explosion, and the truck had done one last jump before landing half on its side.

When the dust had literally settled, Johanna had realized that she hadn’t been hurt, except for a few bruises – but that didn’t mean their situation had improved. Both she and Gabriela were still fixed to the railing beam above their heads, but the crash had pulled the rug from under their feet, or rather the truck from under their knees. Both girls now half were lying on one side, half hung from the ropes, and the rough hemp cut painfully at the bottom of Johanna’s breasts and her left armpit. She and Gabriela had tried to shift their position, but so far, to no avail.

»Uuuhmmm!«

The moan came from her right, and Johanna blinked at Ana who had come so close that her eyes were only inches away from Johanna’s. They were wide as saucers, and she was panting heavily, obviously trying to oppress a scream. Johanna looked for Melissa, and she gasped: the German Policewoman hung from the ropes, and she wasn’t moving at all.

»Mmhrrrmmmm! Uuuhmmmm! Mmhhmmmph!«

The muffled screams, accompanied by heavy wriggling and squirming, told her that Gabriela had also recognized Melissa’s fate.

***

The chess game had ended by two wins for the Sheikh, and though she wasn’t a good player herself, Babette was sure that the Phantom had let the old man win. The board was removed from their bellies, and whilst the Sheikh sorted the pawns into an ornated box, the other man produced a few silk scarves and draped them over their pubic areas.

»Time to sleep now! Tomorrow, I want to start early for my long trip to the South!«

He grinned at Dalanda who mewed when she was reminded that she would be taken with him, to be delivered back to the plantation. She hoped that she would be able to say something when Omar loosened the knots of her cleave gag, but the man only pushed the two pairs of panties a little deeper before tightly retying the cloth. He tied one of the scarves over her mouth, followed by a blindfold before a third cloth was tied over her mouth and nose. Dalanda panted as the loss of her sight made her feel even more helpless. A slight rustling and a few moans told her that Babette received the same treatment. Then, it seemed that the two men withdrew or at least no longer talked, as they could hear nothing but the occasional sounds coming from outside the tent.

***

With no chance of escaping, but also left alone by Ben, and also completely exhausted, Inga had quickly dozed off. Carmen was also tired, but she was still awake. Ben’s hand had continued to caress her belly, and she had let him do so, partially because she couldn’t escape him anyway, partially because it didn’t feel bad. When his fingers had moved upwards, cupping her breast, she hadn’t protested either, and she knew that now, her tingling nipple was hard and erect whilst Ben still massaged her breast. Carmen kept her eyes closed and took deep breaths, waiting if Ben would continue.

»He has kidnapped me, and he is using me as a pawn – but maybe, he will decide to keep me if I play my cards right! And then, maybe, I will escape – somehow!«

So far, Ben had treated her with more kindness than Inga, though the Swede was younger and stunning. Carmen wondered if that meant anything, and if so, whether it was good or bad.

His hand left her breast and wandered down her belly again, to the waistband of her panties. His fingers slightly plucked on the elastic, and Carmen couldn’t help giggling.

»Are you waiting for an invitation?«, she breathed without opening her eyes. Something soft touched her neck, and she realized it was his lips.

»Maybe!«

Two thoughts appeared in Carmen’s mind at the same time: on the one hand, she considered that since Ben would have his way with her anyway, it would be better if he was gentle. The other was more a feeling – curiosity what exactly it would be with him. So, Carmen slightly bent her legs, so her hip bones stretched the front of her panties, allowing his hand to get inside. When his hand cupped her pubic mound, she sighed, but still kept her eyes shut.

Ben’s fingers were strong, but his massage still was gentle. He shifted his position, pushing his other hand under her head so he could caress her throat, too. In French, he whispered:

»We have to talk, Sweet Carmen!«

»S-so?«

It came out as a hoarse croak, and she suddenly understood that he was speaking French so Inga wouldn’t understand.

»About the future! Yours, Inga’s – and mine!«

His grip around her throat tightened a bit. Just to remind her of his strength, not to actually hurt or threaten her. Carmen gasped when he leaned forward and bit her earlobe whilst his hand continued their massage of her most intimate parts.

»So – you are not – giving me to the – Colonel?«

Ben chuckled.

»Are you not anticipating a life on his side? I am sure that you could persuade him to shower more often, and to change his clothes more than once a week!«

Carmen chortled, and Ben continued:

»Also, you didn’t get the taste of – troop entertainment, though you performed so well?«

Carmen cringed and shivered, his words reminding her of when she had slipped in the corridor, with dozens of hands all over her body. She involuntarily cuddled closer towards Ben, though the whole scene had been his fault.

»Or are you open to option number three – becoming a trophy wife once again, though this time, the age gape between you and your future husband is considerably smaller than with you and Enrico!«

His fingers stopped moving, and Carmen lay there, her chest heaving as she thought about his words. She felt hope, relief, distrust, anger, all at the same time.

»Wha-what do you expect from m-me?«

The hand between her legs moved again, feeling the growing warmth there.

»For the start, you could convince me that I am welcome!«

***

Melissa had only been knocked out, and Gabriela now sobbed with relief when her friend had finally opened her eyes and moved. Johanna also was relieved, but at the same time, she felt growing fear as they still hadn’t managed to loosen a single knot. Their kidnappers hadn’t shown, they were either dead or had fled, and though it was getting dark now, the inside of the truck’s load was still very hot and stuffy. Johanna was sure that they wouldn’t stand being tied up like that during the heat the next day would bring. She shuddered from the thought  that before that heat would be more long and straining hours.

The sound was faint, but more and more, as her fellow captives also seemed to listen, she realized it wasn’t an illusion: it was the sound of an approaching engine.

»Mhhmm! Uuhhmmph!«

Maybe, it was just the kidnappers who had organized another car, but even that would have been an improvement. She heard more sounds, and she wondered if there was more than one car outside. Then, a shot was fired.

***

The sound of the bikes’ engines had prevented Sato, Jeb and John from hearing the mine’s explosion, but after passing another hill, they could see the truck ahead of them. The two Americans stopped the bikes, and they examined the car. John frowned.

»They have stopped!«

Indeed, the truck wasn’t moving. Sato checked his gun, but John put his hand on his shoulder.

»Maybe, they are just waiting for us!«

They tried to see if there were any signs of the two Arabs hidden somewhere, but without binoculars, they could only tell that the truck was standing askew, as if it was about to topple over. Then, Sato spotted something else: an approaching dust bowl.

»Either, they have called for reinforcements, or someone else is joining the game!«

They came to the conclusion that they at least had to get closer to see whether it was Moroccan soldiers or other brigands. None of them liked the idea of walking side by side, but there were mines around, and the tire tracks were the only save passage.

They had come close enough to see that the truck was indeed damaged, and Sato had to oppress his urge to storm forward, when from the other side, the dust bowl turned out to be a Jeep with a machine gun on a tripod on it. Without warning, the man behind it started to fire.

Since the car was still moving, his aiming was bad, and so, the three men could zigzag towards some rocks respectively a bush to cover themselves. Jeb and Sato were cowering behind a rock, the American calling John’s name. The only answer was a volley fired at their rock, and Sato hissed:

»If you want to expose yourself, go for it – but do it elsewhere!«

Before the American could reply, a few single shots were fired, followed by the sound of a person running. Obviously, John was heading for a better cover and drew the fire at him. The two men took the chance of raising their heads.

The Jeep stood close to the truck, and whilst the soldier on the machine gun was still manning it, the other three men had jumped from it and had taken shelter behind either the car or some rocks.

»There’s John!«

Jeb had spotted his comrade lying in a shallow hollow, where a thistle offered him a little protection from being seen. However, they were still too far to effectively use their guns, whilst at least two of the soldiers had assault rifles.

»Now, shall we wait until they get to the ›Get out with your hands raised!‹ – part?«

»They seem a bit too trigger happy to say that, and besides, I don’t speak Arabic!«

Jeb drew something from his inner pocket. It looked like a small soda can, with some ring dangling from it, and Sato frowned.

»A hand grenade?«

Jeb scoffed at his lack of military knowledge.

»Smoke grenade! Get ready to run!«

He pulled the ring and threw the can over the rock. The movement caused the man on the machine gun to fire another volley, and some seconds later, they could see thick pink clouds.

»Now!«

Surprisingly agile for a man his size, Jeb darted forward, and Sato followed him through the pink fog, feeling the substance burn in his eyes. He saw a shadow, and he was sure it was the large rock he had seen before. Sato headed towards it when a hand grabbed his arm and pulled him to the ground.

»What the-«

He hit Jeb, but the man didn’t loosen his grip. Instead, he pointed at the sand where Sato could see something protrude. Something round, with a button on top. It was a mine, and if it hadn’t been for Jeb, he would have stepped onto it.

»Great! Now, I owe my life to this bastard!«

He saw a few orange sparks in the fog; the machine gun was firing blindfolded, but stopped after just a few dozen shots. For the moment, they were safe.

Sato drew an arrow into the sand, pointing roughly at the direction of the Jeep. Then, he saw Jeb had crawled forward and was carefully removing the sand from the mine. He turned towards him and grinned.

»Are you good at throwing?«

Sato understood: he wanted to throw the mine, causing either enough distraction for them to attack, or maybe some real damage. He had to think of mines he had heard of, so called Claymores, that shot shrapnel to all directions when they exploded, and he hoped that the American knew what he was doing.

»Our national sport’s Baseball!«

»And I was miserable at it!«, he added in his thoughts, watching nervously as Jeb freed the mine from the sand and handed it to him. Sato watched the button on top, and he felt his palms get sweaty, though he wasn’t a fearful man. Taking a deep breath, he rose the mine and then threw it as far as he could.

Again, it was Jeb who pulled him to the ground. They heard the sound of the mine hitting something – and then, there was a louder sound, though it wasn’t what Sato would have expected. This wasn’t ground-shaking, more like loud fart.

»A dud!«

Jeb pulled him to his feet, and they sneaked towards the side, behind the large rock. There was a single shot, followed by a cry and some cursing in what seemed to be Arabic. Little later, the Jeep started and drove off in a fast pace.

When the clouds disappeared, they saw the truck, just a few yards away now, and beside it stood a man. It was John, leaning almost leisurely to it and smoking a cigarette. Jeb produced his own, and after a short hesitating, he offered one to Sato, too. With a slight bow, he accepted it, and the three men smoked when they heard some faint humming from the truck’s load.

»The girls! They have left them behind!«

John and Jeb were aware that the soldiers could return at any time, but Sato climbed onto the load. Here, some of the smoke had been trapped under the tarpaulin, and he could hear some muffled coughing and moaning. He carefully stepped forward, and his hand felt some naked flesh.

»Johanna-Chan?«

»Mhhmmm!«

With his eyesight adjusting to the light, he could see a girl dangling from a rope, and he drew his knife.

»I could need a hand!«

Little later, and with the help of the Americans, he had cut loose all four girls who were now sitting or kneeling behind the truck, with Sato winding the tape from Johanna’s mouth whilst the others had to help themselves. John jogged back to his bike where he had some water whilst Jeb just enjoyed the sight of the four topless girls.

Sato had ripped away the last bit of tape and plucked the socks from Johanna’s mouth. She drooled a bit, and it took her a few efforts to croak »Thank you!«, leaning against him. Sato, feeling a bit awkward, reached for his pocket and drew her discarded bra.

»I – I found this! The straps are damaged, but maybe-«

»I am sure it will go!«

Johanna forced a smile on her face and kissed his lips before she tried to put on the bra with its cut shoulder straps. Jeb watched with a lewd grin, and Sato rose to shield her.

»Don’t stare at her!«

»Easy, Bonzai, I saved your life!«

Sato lowered his head, and Johanna, who had managed to close the clasps, reached for his hand.

»Is that true? Did he really save your life?«

»Hai!«, Sato hissed through gritted teeth, staring at his shoes. Johanna looked at Jeb who still stood close, now looking at Melissa and Gabriela hugging and kissing whilst Ana just panted and enjoyed breathing fresh air. She pressed Sato’s fingers.

»Please, help me up!«

She staggered when she stood on wobbly legs, but she managed to stand, placing her hands on his shoulders. She gulped, and her cheeks turned crimson, but her voice sounded steady as she whispered:

»Open my bra!«

Sato’s eyebrows went up, but he obeyed, and Johanna reached for his hands, leading them to her breasts so he could feel them. Her cheeks blushed even deeper, but she forced herself not to look away, and she placed another kiss on his mouth.

»I wanted you to be the first to do that! But now, I don’t want you to owe to this man – though I very much appreciate that he saved you!«

She stepped back a little and spun around, making no attempt to hide her once again naked breasts.

»Jeb?«

The bulky American turned towards her, his jaw dropping. Johanna took back her shoulders and straightened.

»You saved Sato’s life – and you deserve a reward! You’ve got ten seconds – and stay above the waist!«

Jeb coughed, staring at her with disbelief, and Johanna smiled.

»Eight seconds!«

Jeb looked at Sato who glanced at him.

»If you hurt her, I will rip out your liver and eat it raw!«

He turned around in a brisk move, and Johanna once again thrust out her boobs. The tall man groped them, being almost gentle, either overwhelmed by her attitude or fearing Sato’s revenge. When he withdrew, Johanna cuddled against Sato and slung her arms around his neck. Now, she once again felt her legs get weak, and she knew that embarrassment would haunt her for a while.

Sato stood stiff, and she sighed.

»I just paid your debt! He hasn’t taken anything from me or you!«

The Japanese relaxed a bit, and his hands went around her naked back, caressing her. Johanna heard herself whisper:

»They still feel the same as before he touched them!«

»I can’t believe that!«

An impish smile appeared on Sato’s lips, and his hands wandered to her breasts, pressing her against the truck. Excited, Johanna let him fondle her until they heard the sound of the approaching bike. Shielded by Sato’s jacket, she put the bra back on and once again took the man’s hands.

»Time to become Sato-San again!«

He bowed, and Johanna curtseyed before they went for John who offered some water bottles to the thirsty girls.

***

Babette tried her best to cope with her gag and blindfold. Despite being in her mouth for quite some time now, Dalanda’s panties still tasted foul, and the girl shuddered whenever she had to swallow. She had expected the Sheikh, or his son, to once again take advantage of her, but so far, the only one touching her was Dalanda’s shoulder and hip to her side.

A faint groan made her gasp, but after a few seconds, she realized it was a snore. Under other circumstances, it would have amused her; now, it at least signalled that as long as she could hear that sound, she would be save from further molesting.

»Mph!«

Something poked her ear, and through the layers of silk, she felt it was Dalanda’s nose. Babette moaned, and the other girl continued squirming. At the same time, she felt for her hand, and Babette felt the urge to push her back. Then, she thought twice: the girl was alone and scared, and there was no need for her to hold a grudge, just because Marco had preferred her. Now, Marco was gone, and if the Black needed a little consolation, it would perhaps also help her to cope with her fear.

However, after a few moments, she realized that Dalanda wasn’t attempting to hold hands; instead, she tried to pick on the rope tying their feet to their handcuffs. Babette doubted that they had the faintest chance to escape, but she tried her best to help, and after a few minutes, their combined effort loosened the knots.

Even if they would stay captive, it felt marvellous to be able to stretch their legs and to get a few inches between their sweaty hips. Babette took a deep breath when she felt Dalanda shifting her position. Grunting and rustling, the Black managed to get her cuffed wrists closer to Babette’s head, and with a last effort, she could remove the blindfold.

Some time later, Dalanda’s eyes were free, too. The girl mewed, and with her chin, she pointed at the corner of the tent, where there was a gap between the floor and the wall.

***