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Ch 6
“Why?” she asked.
“Have you ever beaten somebody?”
Lila shook her head.
“Well,” he answered, “perhaps you should have the experience before…”
She shook her head sadly, “Yes, perhaps I should.”
Her first strokes were hesitant, Lucinda screamed, perhaps to try to convince Manu that she it hurt, but he was too experienced for that. He judged progress by the number, depth and color of the cuts, not by the slave’s reaction to them.
“Don’t go easy on her,” Manu instructed, “it will take longer if you do.”
“I understand.”
Then Lila began to strike in earnest. Lucinda’s screams turned into pitiful shrieks as her ass was covered by pink stripes that soon turned into deep purple welts. Even though Lila hit her as hard as she could, she lacked experience as well as strength, and it took her quite a while to draw first blood.
By the time the first drops of blood appeared, Lila’s nude body was covered in sweat; she had dropped the sheet that she had wrapped around her waist. Lucinda’s body was also glistening with sweat, although for totally different reasons.
Manu contemplated the Amazon that wielded the cane more skillfully each time. His desire for her burned his insides, he so much wanted to have her, before the end, but the knowledge of what he had done, and was bound to do to her, gripped his heart and turned his desire to ashes.
Lila swung the crop, hitting her target, Lucinda’s sweet ass, and noting her shrieks of pain. Her breathing became heavier, more labored from the exercise and, to her surprise and shock, from something else. She noticed a heaviness, a sense of want, deep inside. Her pussy lips, opening, her moisture, dripping from her insides. She swung the cane faster, harder, in unconscious rhythm with her galloping desire. Manu noticed this, his hand slowly stroking his chin, a faint smile on his lips.
Her need taking over, her left hand slowly moved to her pleasure center and reaching there, found only emptiness. Her shriek of frustration set off a harder series of cuts to poor Lucinda’s tortured cheeks. Lisa, no longer conscious of her victim’s screaming, only sensed her building wave, her damned flood, and with no way to relieve her pent up tension, her vicious need to come. In her frustration, she no longer saw Lucinda or her striped buttocks, the cuts of her cane just as soon falling on her ass as on the table, or on Lila’s own thighs.
“Enough!” said Manu, holding her wrist.
Lila fell on her knees, her fists punching her thighs, her face full of tears, her head falling on her hands, sobbing in frustration, despair, or perhaps both.
Manu let her cry herself out on the floor; it was he that removed Lucinda from the pillar and shackled her crying, tortured body to the wall. It was he that removed the pleading, frightened Maya and shackled her to the pillar.
“We will do your breasts before we do hers” Manu told her, as a small measure of consolation.
Between sobs of anguish and terror, Maya had enough presence of mind to answer:
“Thank you.”
Only after Maya was prepared did Manu kneel besides Lila to console her. She did not want to cane Maya’s ass; she did not like what she found while doing Lucinda. Manu listened to her pleas but he insisted.
“It would be unfair to Lucinda if I were to cane Maya,” he said.
Lila stopped crying and shot him a questioning look.
“I am stronger and more experienced; it would be done faster.”
Reluctantly, Lila picked up a new cane.
She tried to be professional about it; she tried not to feel, not to let the power carry her away. Vain hope; Maya’s piercing shrieks, her screams, her pleas for mercy, and the stripes growing on her small, firm ass, pushed Lila deeper and deeper into the fire. She felt her blood, rushing to her center, piling up, behind a dam that would not open. She hit harder, faster, until again, her eyes no longer saw the room, or Maya, or her ass. A red fog surrounded her, until she felt that she only needed just one more, one more strike, just one more and she would reach, she would be able.
“Crack!”
A sharp pain cut across her nipples.
Lila fell on the ground, her hands at her pussy, her fingers pushed deep inside her. Her insides churning; sloppy, slurping noises coming out as she tried to push both her fists inside her depths. She felt the waves coming; once, twice, three times, more. Her legs thrashed, her ass bounced on the floor. It took her a long time to finish. When she was done, breathless, she looked at Manu.
“How did you know?” she asked him.
He simply shook his head sadly.
He picked up the cane. He swung at Maya’s breasts slowly, hard. He ignored her pitiful wailing, her tears and her pleas. He hit her mammaries with swift, precise strokes. Despite appearances, the punishment was efficient. It did not take ten minutes or more than twenty strokes for the blood to flow freely from her lacerated bosom. Lila appreciated his efficiency although she wondered how he could be so cool, so professional. She took a furtive glance at his crotch. Nothing was going on down there.
While Manu moved Maya to the wall, Lila tied the crying Lucinda to the table. When Manu approached her with her cane the poor girl pissed herself in fear.
“I wonder if I will do the same, when it’s my turn,” Lila thought.
Manu shredded Lucinda’s breasts as efficiently as he had Maya’s. By now, Lila could take no more. She did not stay to watch each girl cane her lover’s sweet pussy; there was no need. She had enough; Manu let her go.
From the bed she now shared with Manu, she could hear the muffled screams. It lasted a long time, longer still, until Manu entered the bed where she lay naked waiting for him.
She turned, embracing him, kissing him, her hands seeking his hardness, guiding it into her depths.
She did not come, she did not expect to. He did, but he wished he hadn’t.
“I am sorry,” he said, “I do not deserve this, after what I did to you.”
“Hush my love,” she whispered, “thank you,” she added.
Manu kissed her neck, to hide the tears that came to his eyes.
“I thought I wouldn’t be able to come again,” she said. “You gave me one last gift.”
She might not have seen his tears, but his shudders were unmistakable.
* * * *
Finally Manu and Lila had finished the plans for her termination. Manu stood up by the table when Lila approached him. She embraced his neck and kissed him; they kissed a lot, couldn’t get enough of each other’s taste in their mouths.
With only two days left in the week, Manu prepared to leave the dungeon, as he usually did in the morning. He had not locked the door, or secured Lila, since that day when, drunk and angry he had lashed her body so cruelly.
“Please master,” Lila asked from her knees.
“What have you, my love?”
“Before you leave, won’t you secure me, and lock the door,” her voice was small, trembling, tears were brimming in her eyes.
“Huh?”
“Please master,” Lila asked, “Please chain me. It is so hard to wait… to not try to escape…”
“It would be so much easier if I was chained.”
Her face fell on her chest, tears dripping down her cheeks, falling on her breasts. She tried to restrain her sobs, but the harder she tried, the harder she cried. He knelt beside her and took her in his arms. She cried on his shoulder.
“You are so good to me.”
His silent tears joined hers, and still he held her in silence.
She sat on the sofa reading. A noise startled her; she turned around and, immediately, dropped to her knees, her head to the ground.
“I see Manu doesn’t chain you when he leaves,” Al-Mansour said.
“No master,” Lila shivered.
“He doesn’t lock the door either,” he added, walking into the living room; Aisha followed him, hesitantly; always afraid to enter the torturer’s dungeon.
“Kneel back on your heels,” The sheik ordered.
Lila felt her insides freeze. Afraid more for Manu rather than for herself; after all, what could be worse than the fate that Manu and she had planned already?
Al-Mansour wandered, apparently aimlessly through the room, picking up a book here, or a magazine there, his slippers silent on the carpeted floor.
“Almost seems like he wanted you to escape,” he said, as if talking to himself.
“He knows I wouldn’t try,” Lila answered, “Where would I escape to? And how far would I get, naked, on foot, with no money?”
“Oh, I’m sure there are clothes around here somewhere,” the sheik said, looking at Lila, “money and his car keys too, I dare say.”
Lila tried not to, but the poor girl was no match for the wily Arab. He watched her eyes closely and simply walked to the closet where the clothes and burka were stored and opened the door.
“See,” he said with a smile.
He then opened the drawer on the desk. The car keys, money and even the gun were in clear evidence.
He made a gesture with his hand as if saying: I told you.
Lila started to cry, “I wouldn’t go a mile before you caught me.”
He caressed his beard slowly, “You wouldn’t; but what if you could?”
She just looked up at him.
“A slave tried to escape, a few years ago. Much like you,” he said. “Her torturer allowed her to try.”
He picked up a notebook from one of the upper shelves, Lila hadn’t seen it before. He opened it.
“Yes; this is the story. You should read it. It won’t take long.”
“Yes master.”
“Ahh, yes,” he continued, “Manu will be out the rest of the day, I sent him on an errand and he won’t be back until the evening.”
He left the notebook on the desk, “See how docile, Aisha? You should learn from her.” He stroked the slave girl’s hair.
“Where was I?” he toyed with Lila, “There will be no guards at the front of the garden, or on the main gates.”
Lila stared, shocked.
“In the patio, my white sport Mercedes sits, doors unlocked. The keys are in the ignition. There is a carry on bag in the front seat,” his smile was malignant, “There is $50,000 in cash, an American Express card and an airplane ticket for the flight to Sidney that leaves at 20:00. Also a US passport in your name.”
Lila shook her head, “I don’t understand.”
“I mean, you will get away. I guarantee it,” he picked up the notebook for a moment, “Manu will be punished, of course, for neglecting my property.”
He turned around and walked towards the door, “Come Aisha.”
The slave girl followed him, “But why should you care.”
His laughter remained in Lila’s ears long after he left.
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