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Ch 20
Disobedience.
She brought him a cup of mint tea before joining him in bed. As she slipped under the covers at his side, the sheik had allowed him her use for the duration, Aisha hoped he would drink it, and was relieved to see that he downed it in just a few, thirsty, gulps.
It did not take long; the sleeping pill she had dissolved in the tea, Rohypnol, worked fast, very fast. When his deep, even, breathing told her the draught had taken effect, Aisha left the bed and turning on a dim light, approached the gurney.
Lila had not regained consciousness; not entirely. Her body still lay on the gurney, covered by a thin sheet. Her chest rose and fell, irregularly, in time with her weak, sibilant breaths. Between tortured breaths, faint moans escaped her parched lips. She had been right; she would not last an hour tomorrow, not in this state.
She brought a bottle of water from the kitchen and, cradling Lila’s head in her arm, brought the bottle to her cracked lips. Lila moaned in pain, and began to drink.
“Do you want me to do, what you asked me to?” Aisha asked, in a whisper.
A hoarse rasp answered her, “Do it.”
Aisha silently went up to a closet, and rapidly set up to IVs which she hooked up to veins on each of Lila’s arms. She hung up two bags of IV fluid which she opened wide. Once the sugar and salt solution flowed briskly into Lila’s arms, she resumed her position, by her head, helping the suffering girl drink, when she was able to.
Time passed slowly, and Aisha replaced the IV bags with new ones as they emptied. After five liters had gone in, Lila, feeling stronger now, asked:
“I need to pee.”
Aisha did not let the unfortunate girl try to stand. She simply dove between her thighs and pressed her lips to Lila’s shaved mound. The slave girl understood what was required and why. She relieved herself in Aisha’s mouth, without the added torture of having to move.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
“You were right,” said Aisha after she finished, “How did you guess he would not hook you up to the IVs?”
“He loves me,” she answered.
Aisha nodded. That was the reason, of course. He loves her; he wants her to die as soon as possible. And that was the reason Lila asked her to place the IVs. She loves him and fears the sheik’s retaliation upon him, if she does not last long enough.
“And I love them both,” she thought, as she took out a small ampoule, loaded a syringe and injected it into one of the IV lines.
The Valium took effect swiftly; Lila fell into a deeper sleep, far away from her pain, from the dungeon, from Brunei. “Perhaps she dreams of her master,” Aisha thought, changing one of the IV bags.
She remained at her side, most of the night. Only when the first light of dawn began to creep along the eastern sky, outside of the dungeon, did she slow down the IVs, and return to sleep, for a few hours, besides her temporary master. He did not notice her nude body sliding beside his, he too, continued in his dreamless sleep.
In the warm bed, Aisha cried silently.
She would have to be whipped, in the morning. For once, she did not care.
Maybe some of Lila’s spirit was seeping into her soul.
Maybe.
Aisha turned around and she, also, fell asleep.