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Ch 4
Intermission
Manu left her tied, on the table, for the rest of the day. He did not want her hands reaching for her scarred pussy, where they could damage the scar, or cause infection. He did bring her legs down thinking, rightly, that she would feel better if her legs were straight, even if not closed together, rather than spread out, with her pussy exposed. He did not tell her this though. He gave her some wine to drink, which was technically a violation of the rules, and the wine, on her empty stomach helped bring her to an uneasy sleep. He covered her with a sheet and left the room.
He paced the library for a while. He needed to see the sheik, needed to report. He climbed up the stairs and met the sheik in his sitting room. He was alone with Aisha, she, kneeling by his side.
He approached his employer and, unbidden, sat down. This slight disrespect did not pass unnoticed; Aisha gasped slightly, the sheik just frowned a little. Manu noticed the frown; he noticed everything, but found that he did not care too much anymore.
“Excuse me,” he said, “I am tired; I meant no disrespect.”
The sheik waved his hand, “None taken, my friend.”
“I have done as instructed.”
“So I have heard,” the sheik smiled, “so has all of Brunei heard; it seems like.”
He gestured and the slave girl rushed to bring Manu some tea. He drank the hot drink gratefully.
“How was she?” The sheik asked after his employee finished the tea.
“Very impressive,” Manu answered. “I’ve never seen such obedience and humility in a condemned slave.”
“How long should we wait to have her heal?”
Manu had to be very careful here, “A burn takes longer to heal than a cut. A week is my best guess.”
“Good, so be it.”
“With your leave,” Manu got up and left the room.
He did not return to the dungeon directly; he took a turn around the gardens, trying to collect his thoughts. He had cut or burned the clitoris off quite a few slave girls in the past; some, like Lila, were playthings, from the beginning destined to be snuffed at the Sheik’s pleasure, others were regular slave girls who, for one reason or another, had displeased Al-Mansour and were now to be de-clitted prior to their long and torturous demise. Most of them, naturally, cried in terror, begged for mercy, for their freedom, to be spared the mutilation or, at least to be given some anesthetic. Some, the ones that knew they were destined to be snuffed from the beginning, resigned to their fate, would not plea for mercy, but would never fail to struggle in their bonds, and grieve loudly before the procedure.
He never saw acceptance like Lila’s. He wished he had met her master, someone who could command such love and docility from a slave. For the first time he felt his heart tearing with desire for a slave; his need for her overwhelming his common sense, he struggled with the decision his heart was making for him.
He must have her for himself.
He would ask the master, later on, to sell her to him. His substantial savings would easily buy an undamaged slave girl; he could bid on Lila easily. But, would the Sheik sell her to him? He would try and buy her at the end of the week. A voice in his mind told him the Sheik would not sell her to him, not before she had been terribly tortured, her body torn, and her mind damaged beyond repair. The image of her restrained beauty screaming in pain under the iron in his hand came back to haunt him. Even if her body was damaged beyond repair, even if she were driven crazy by the unrelenting, merciless torture, still he would try to preserve her as best he could. In fact, he thought, he might be able to do something for her, to lessen her suffering somewhat; he smiled; he would do that under the Sheik’s own nose, even if the fat bastard refused to sell her to him; no, especially if he refused to sell her.
Happy for the first time this day, he went to eat his belated lunch; he picked up a sandwich for Lila before returning to the dungeon.
Lila heard him whistling before she saw him enter the room. The pain from her burned pussy awoke her some time before. Surprised for a moment at his change of attitude, Lila found that, in her predicament, her mind worked much faster than it ever had. Within seconds she knew why Manu was whistling, why he was happy.
“I brought you a sandwich,” He said, sitting her up on the table and releasing her hands.
“Thank you master.”
She ate her sandwich slowly, watching, discreetly, her master move about the room. She wondered when, not if, he would tell her of his decision. She guessed it would not take him long. She finished her sandwich.
“Lila,” Manu said, “I wanted… still want to quit rather than hurt you anymore.”
“But you promised…”
Lila’s tone was not pleading, rather it was the simple statement of fact that he would not quit, because he had promised not to.
“That’s right, I promised,” Manu continued, “I shall do as you want. I will continue to torture you; it is my job.”
Lila nodded.
“Please understand that I do not want to hurt you; I shall go as easy with you as I can manage,” He paused, “I’m afraid there is not much I can do.”
Lila smiled at him, her smile tearing at his insides, “No, you mustn’t.”
Manu looked at her, shocked.
“You must not risk your position, your life, for my sake. Promise me you will do everything to me that you would do to anyone else.”
His head shaking in disbelief, he remained mute.
“You must promise me, you will have no mercy; you must,” Lila continued. “If anything happened to you, because of me… It would be so much harder for me.”
Tears streaked down Lila’s face now, “Have pity on me. Promise me; promise you will have no mercy. Say it; say it to me.”
Manu could not contain his tears either. It took him a few minutes to regain his composure. Between sobs, Lila continued:
“Promise me…Promise me.”
Finally, Manu hugged her nude body and, her breasts crushed against him, he said:
“I promise you, I shall have no mercy.”
Their lips met in a passionate kiss. His lips crushed hers, and his tongue entered her mouth, looking for hers. They remained together, locked in a kiss, for a long time, their tears mixing on their faces.
He released her from the table and, for the rest of the day; she was free to move about the dungeon. He let her wrap the sheet about her waist providing a modicum of modesty for the beautiful slave girl.
“Wrap it about your waist,” he said, “but leave your breasts bare; I want to continue to look at them.”
Only at night, when he let her sleep on the couch, did Manu restrain her.
“I am not doing this to keep you from escaping,” he told her as he fastened her hands behind her waist. “I am doing it to keep you from tearing at the scab, while you sleep.”
“I understand sir,” Lila said lying down on the couch, “thank you sir.”
“Good night,” Manu turned the lights off as he went to his room.
* * *
“How did you come to be a slave?”
Lila, reclining on the couch in the dungeon thought for a moment; the door to the outside was open and a little sunlight came in. It had been two days since she was de-clitted, and Manu did not bind her hands anymore at night.
“I had two brothers, one older, one younger. My mother did her best to raise us but, without a father, it was hard.”
Manu nodded encouraging her.
“By the time I turned eighteen, I was tired of living in squalor, of buying at the dollar store, of getting my clothes at Goodwill. I could get a grant to get me through college, but that would mean three more years of misery. I could not deal with that anymore. I got a job at Paul’s; I mean my master’s company. Like all the women there, I fell for him. When Sarah, she was in charge of managing the company, approached me to be Paul’s ‘personal assistant’ I jumped at the chance to be with him, to serve him.”
“Did you know, then, what it implied?”
“No, not at first, or actually, I suspected it, but was not sure. I was always quite submissive…Come to think of it, we all were,” she paused, “they probably selected the most submissive women to hire.”
“Anyway,” Lila concluded, “when I got offered the personal assistant job, I knew what it implied; perhaps not in all the details, but essentially yes, I accepted, just to be with him more.”
“He was a good master to serve, I imagine?” Manu asked.
“Oh yes, not demanding at all; he would very rarely beat us, although he would loan us to his clients,” Lila frowned, “some were not nice with us, but that’s what we were there for.”
“I think he acquired me, and the others, so he wouldn’t have to loan Sarah out.”
“Come, follow me, it is time you got some sun,” Manu stood up.
Lila stood up to follow him, “Don’t you need to leash me?”
“That will not be necessary; just take off the sheet.”
Lila removed the bed sheet she wore wrapped around her waist and, nude, followed her torturer outside. The bright sun stung her eyes for a while, she could barely see. She followed him around the gardens; the guards never failed to look at her, desire written in their faces; the officers, who knew what she was there for, licked their lips, they would get a go at her before it was all over.
“I am exercising the slave,” Manu answered when someone inquired about her.
He saw the sheik watching them from a balcony. He told her to kneel and wait. Lila knelt on the grass, knees spread, she felt the tension on the scab of her burn as her thighs opened and her skin pulled on it; she rested her hands on her thighs and, eyes downcast, back erect, showing off her firm breasts, she waited in the sun.
Al-Mansour greeted his torturer.
“She is doing fine,” Manu informed his employer.
“Everything is on schedule then?”
Manu decided this would be as good a time as any for his purpose, “Sir, if you don’t mind, I would like to buy this slave.”
The obese sheik twirled his moustache, a sick smile on his lips. He lit a cigar, sat down on a chair and puffed a cloud of smoke. On a small table were a bucket of ice and a bottle of Scotch.
“Have a drink my friend.”
Manu poured himself a stiff one and remained standing. In the hot sun, sweat beaded on his forehead, not only from the heat.
“Even damaged as she is?” The sheik asked.
“Even so.”
“Why?”
Manu had thought his answer in advance; it would not do to reveal his feelings for her, if the sheik knew his feelings he might have someone else take over from him; even though he did not want to torture Lila anymore, he did not want to escape his promises that way.
“I want her for myself.” He answered truthfully.
Al-Mansur puffed again in his cigar and nodded, “Who wouldn’t.”
Manu waited in silence. After a while, the sheik spoke again:
“You care for her.” It was not a question.
Manu remained silent. He was tempted to deny it, but decided not to; no, he could not deny it.
“I want her,” he repeated.
“No,” the sheik answered finally, “I will not sell her to you; not now. Maybe later; much later, if you still want her.”
“As you wish.”
“You may leave now,” and as his back was turned, he added, “You may enjoy the slave, while you have her.”
“My thanks.” Manu did not turn to face the sheik again. He did not want him to read his face.
It was a bit of hope, and that was more than Manu expected from the fat bastard. He rejoined Lila and returned to the cool dungeon.
That night, after dinner, he left her in the living room area and went out to get some air.
“I am going out to smoke a cigar,” he told her, “I do not want to fill this place with smoke.”
“Yes sir,” she answered dropping to her knees in front of the couch, her breasts swaying seductively.
“I will be out for about an hour or so, I guess.” He turned and left the room; purposely, he did not lock the door; in fact, he left it ajar.
Earlier, in Lila’s plain view, he opened a closet door, pretending to look for something; inside the closet were some women’s clothes and a burka. He also opened several drawers on his desk, making sure Lila saw their contents, namely, several thousand dollars in cash, his car keys and a pistol. Earlier in the day, during their walk in the garden, he pointed out his car, a white Mercedes, to her.
He walked to the opposite side of the house, puffing on his Cohiba. There will be hell to pay in the morning. He thought, but he was beyond caring now. The Cohiba he selected was a big one. He took a long time to smoke it and, after he was done, he joined two of the officers for drinks. It was more than an hour and a half when, stumbling, eyes bloodshot from the whisky, he returned to the dungeon.
Kneeling by the couch, thighs open and eyes downcast he found Lila.
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