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Ch 13
The last officer.
The light hurt her eyes. Her breath hurt her throat. She tried to speak but only a rasp came out of her parched lips. It wasn’t over.
She saw Aisha, a desperate look of worry in her eyes, replaced by relief.
“Lila, I thought you were dead!”
“I wish I was,” she tried to answer, but no words came out, only a hiss, like a viper.
She helped her up and took her out. In the garden, both girls kneeled on the grass; Aisha gave her sugared water to drink, her face showing her concern.
If she took Lila, in this condition to the next officer, she might not survive this, her last encounter with the officers. Aisha feared that if Lila died, Al-Mansour would make her take her place. But she was afraid, too, of being late.
As soon as Lila was able to walk she took her to the last officer. Still unable to talk, Lila kneeled in the foyer of the house. This was the most junior of the officers in Al-Mansour’s domain; not the youngest though. The officer was an obese man, way past his prime, whose bulbous red nose betrayed that he ignored, at least one of the prohibitions that a good Muslim should follow. His slurred speech showed why, at his age, he was still such a junior officer.
Aisha bowed her head to the ground, “Sir, I brought you this slave, for your use.”
He started to stagger towards Lila, but Aisha continued, “However she has been greatly damaged by her previous user, and cannot serve you as you deserve.”
The man unsteadily turned around and watched the kneeling slave girl who, in front of him was removing her scanty clothing.
“I will serve you in her place, so she can recover.”
Nude, plump, sweet Aisha, knelt face to the ground, in front of the drunken officer. He was as surprised as Lila was; Aisha was reserved for the sheik’s use and no one, officer or soldier, had ever been granted her favors. His cock, despite his alcoholic inebriation, rose at the thought of despoiling the sheik’s favorite slave. What a way to pay him back for the years of humiliation, of passed promotions, of younger, lesser men, passing him, on the way up the ladder.
He knelt behind the chubby girl and spread her ass cheeks. Lila, kneeling, watched him try to enter her, and heard her scream as he tried to force his way into her dry ass. He spat on his hand and moistened his pecker with spit. Aisha’s squeal of pain announced his entry into her rear passageway. He thrust into her as she continued to cry out. Angry, he slapped her ass, once, and again, over and over. He would forget to thrust in and out, at times, carried away in his thrashing of the slaves soft, white cheeks. Aisha’s ass turned first pink, then red, when he remembered and resumed his pounding into it. He yelled out when he came and pushed his dick, coated with sperm and shit into Aisha’s face. The desperate girl licked it clean. He slapped her breasts, until she screamed again.
He got up and picked up a cane. He began to beat her with the cane, not carefully, not methodically. No, he just hit her wherever the cane would fall, not aiming for the globes of her ass, or the heavy roundness of her swaying breasts. He just caned whatever happened to be fall under his rattan rod. Aisha curled in the floor, covering her face with her hands and rolled under the rain of blows. Her screams were so loud, and lasted so long, that Ahmed burst in.
“Attention!” he screamed.
The obese man ignored him and continued beating the slave girl with his cane.
Ahmed’s face turned red with anger, “Attention Mahmoud!” he said once more.
But Mahmoud did not hear him or, in his anger ignored him. That was his last mistake.
Ahmed pulled his pistol out of his holster, cocked it and, without hesitation shot the man in the head. Blood, brain and bone sprayed out of Mahmoud’s head, coating Aisha and Lila’s bodies with fine drops of gore. The bronze casing hit the wall of the room with a loud ping before rolling silently on the carpet.
Lila and Aisha watched Ahmed, in terrified silence; Aisha pissed herself in fear. He replaced the pistol in the holster and looked at them:
“Aisha, get dressed and take her back to the dungeon,”
“Hear and obey.”
“And get cleaned up before the sheik sees you.”
“Yes, right away.”
He looked out of the window, “Tell Manu to send someone to clean this mess,” then; he turned on his heel and left the house.
On the floor, blood slowly seeped out of where the side of Mahmoud’s head used to be. The carpet was ruined; it was not an expensive one.
Aisha took the, still mute, slave back to the dungeon. The thin fabric of her clothing let the stripes of her caning show through. Tears rolled silently down her cheeks. It had seemed a good idea at the time but what would happen if the sheik found out? They walked back slowly, Lila still had trouble breathing.
“What happened to you?” Manu asked.
Aisha explained everything; how Lila had been almost strangled, how she took her place with Mahmoud, and Ahmed rescuing them. Lila, on her knees struggled to breathe, still mute.
Manu opened an emergency kit and mixed two drugs, he then sprayed them down Lila’s throat. She choked on them but found, almost immediately that she could breathe better and the pain in her throat improved some.
“It’s adrenalin and a steroid,” Manu said, “The steroid will weaken the rings on your throat, but …”
“That won’t be a problem for me,” Lila’s voice was a faint rasp.
“Now what do we do with you?” Manu asked Aisha.
“Maybe the sheik will not find out?” she asked.
“He will find out,” Manu scratched his head.
“Ahmed will tell him?”
“No. He will just tell him that he killed Mahmoud for insubordination; that is all. The sheik will be happy to be rid of him. He only kept him because he was his first wife’s cousin. He might even promote Ahmed.”
Manu paced up and down, “He will know, as he knows everything.”
He looked at the trembling slave girl, “The best thing is for you to tell him, now.”
Aisha looked up at him, “He will have me killed.”
“Yes, that is most likely; on the other hand, this is your best shot. He might be merciful, if you tell him yourself.”
Aisha dragged herself to her feet and left the dungeon on slow, hesitating steps.
He took Lila to the couch and had her lie there to rest. He covered her nude body with a sheet and dimmed the lights.
“You have three hours before the evening. Try and get some rest.”
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