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Ch 7
She recognized Manu’s hand.
“Ali should not have let Azim escape. He has been demoted and I shall replace him. I am the new torturer for the Sheik. My first job is to organize the execution of Ali and his beloved.”
Cold sweat dripped between Lila’s shoulder blades.
“Azim must die first, in front of Ali, so he knows before his death, not only that it was fruitless, but also what kind of horror he has brought upon her”
Lila skipped forward:
“He was not tortured. We held him and impaled him with a thick sharp pole. It took five men to hold him down. I placed a traverse on the pole so it only entered his ass for two feet. He will take a long time to die from this.”
Her shudders now racked her body.
“We sat him on his pole, planted in the garden. I placed a taller pole behind him and tied his chest to it, so he won’t fall.
We brought Azim and tied her to a pole in front of him. I whipped her with a bull whip forty times on her back. He cursed us all and asked me to kill him, to kill her, but I ignored his pleas for mercy. I had no choice.
On all fours, Azim then had to service the entire garrison, the officers first and then the enlisted men. Some fucked her ass, some her mouth, most used her more than once. Ali had to watch all the men have their way with his beloved.
When they finished, her buttocks, face and hair were covered in cum. It was dripping from her cunt and ass and falling on the grass. She had stopped screaming a long time ago.
When we brought out the cross she remained numb. She obeyed me when I told her to place her arms on the cross. When we nailed her first arm, she started to fight us again.”
Lila could not continue, she skipped to the end.
“She lasted until the evening of the second day. It was night when she finally expired. Ali watched her die in silence. I could see him burning with fever, his eyes full of tears. When Azim died, everyone left the garden. I crept silently and threw a garrote around his neck. Before I strangled him I heard him whisper:
‘Thank you Manu’
May Allah preserve me from loving a slave!”
Lila closed the notebook and replaced it on the shelf. Manu must not know she read it. He must never know she read it.
She sat again on the couch. He must have known when he left her alone, unbound, what he risked. What price he would pay, and what the chances were. They would both die.
“May Allah preserve me from loving a slave.”
The clock struck four.
“Allah did not preserve you, my love,” Lila said aloud, “but he provided for the slave to love you.”
She knelt on the floor and tried to relax and empty her thoughts; to reach a peaceful place.
“More than life itself,” she whispered.
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