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CH 16
Imitating Lila
Aisha considered the cross; yes, that was appropriate, she thought. She brought a small tray on wheels close to the cross and searched around the drawers until she found what she needed. The stories told her by the Somali slaves she knew showed her what was required.
She set on the table a sharp knife and a pair of sharp scissors and placed them on the tray. He can decide what to use on me when he gets here.
She looked for something to staunch the bleeding; the slaves were definite about that. After a long, almost fruitless search she decided that the soldering iron would have to do; an extension cord allowed it to reach the power outlet on the wall. She did not turn it on; she did not know how long Manu would take to arrive, and was afraid of it burning up.
Now came the hard part.
She took her place in the cross and opened her legs as far as she could. With difficulty she reached the shackles and closed them on her own ankles. That was easy, they snapped closed when the ankle pressed on them.
She extended her arms on the cross and found that the manacles snapped closed on her wrists easily. Now that she was helpless, unable to escape anymore, for she had placed herself in that position, now, she could let her fear run over her.
And it did; like a wave, it soaked her body. Her heart raced, her breath came in labored gasps. She struggled, futilely, against her manacles. Her body covered in sweat, Aisha now was able to dwell in her fear.
But after the wave of fear passed, Aisha still remained, manacled and shackled to her cross, waiting.
She heard the door open and steps coming down the stairs.
“Aisha; where are you?” Manu’s voice came through the door.
“I’m in the dungeon master.”
He entered the dungeon, his face showing the surprise he felt at seeing the, formerly, timid and self effacing slave, naked, bound to a cross and, when he approached and saw the instruments on the table, ready for her mutilation.
He looked at her plum, attractive nude body. Her clitoris, covered by its hood of flesh protruded from her pussy, right at the top of her slit.
He grasped it, through its hood, with his index and thumb, pinching it uncomfortably.
“Why are you on that cross?” he asked.
She responded with a question, “Were you planning to use it on Lila?”
His eyes widened, a little; with her senses heightened by fear, Aisha could see his dark pupils, in the dimly lit dungeon, dilate. He began to understand.
He nodded, “Later today.”
Aisha nodded, “I want to have it done on the cross where she will suffer; it is important to me.”
Yes; he understood now. He pinched her sensitive clitoris a little harder. She whimpered.
“So, what did the sheik tell you, exactly?”
“That you are to take my clitoris, master.” Her body writhed in the cross with the pain in her clit.
Manu nodded, releasing her sensitive nub and turning his back on her, his hand picking the knife.
Aisha closed her eyes.
“You are really dumber than a truckload of rocks,” she heard.
She opened her eyes; in his hand he held the scissors.
“You are a total idiot,” he continued. “Fortunately Allah favors fools and children.”
She did not understand. He turned on her, his voice loud, his spit hitting her scared face.
“What he said, you little fool, was: We shall have to think about taking this off!” He laughed.
“That’s what he said. You are fortunate I went to talk to him before I came over, otherwise you would be lacking a clitoris now, and I would have some explaining to do.”
He turned away, laughing, and left her on the cross; before he left the dungeon he turned around again:
“Don’t get too attached to it Aisha; he might still order it taken from you,” and he left the dungeon.
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