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By Rasputtin Szczepanski
Chapter 14
The sound of an approaching vehicle woke them up. The candle in the room had burned out and it was an absolute dark. Shannon could sense that the pony girls were awake and alert. She got up out of the bed and slowly moved towards the door, trying not to make a sound. With the house being completely still and quiet the entire night, their hearing was ultra-sensitive. She could hear a door downstairs opening. It was someone that had a key because Shannon had made sure to lock all the doors.
Another door in the back of the house was opened. Shannon thought about slowly opening the door and peaking down to see who it was but she heard someone come up the steps. Whoever it was, they were opening doors in the second floor of the house.
Another person was running up the stairs – then suddenly their door opened, spilling in the soft light of morning that was coming through various windows outside the room. It was the son. He had a rifle and he said something in Arabic to the three of them. He yelled to the other person upstairs, and that person made his way into the doorway. He looked like a guard. The son barked orders at him which caused him to run downstairs, and then he turned to the three nude women in the room.
He approached the pony girls and attached a leash to each pony girl’s collar. He then did the same with Shannon. He held all three leashes. He pulled on the pony girls to get them out of the bed. He seemed amused to see the pony girls there and not in their cage.
The guard reappeared with a handful of handcuffs. The son handcuffed each girl with her hands behind her back and then pulled on the leashes to bring them out of the room. Shannon could see there were three men total. Two guards and the son, and all armed. The son was yelling at them and they seemed to be anxious to leave. The guards had collected items in large duffel bags. They moved out into the front of the house, the son leading three naked women by leashes connected to their collars. The sun was just rising over the sand dunes.
She heard the unmistakable sound of a gun from behind her. The crack that echoed off the dunes and the walls of the palace. She turned and looked and when she remembers these moments later in life, it seemed at the time that life had become slow motion. She could see figures lying far up in dunes to the side of the palace. The guards were yelling and there was another crack in the air. Shannon turned around, the son was on the ground, a pool of blood coming out of his head and spreading on the asphalt. His hands still held the leashes. One guard was kneeling, clutching at this throat, blood spurting out between his fingers. The last remaining guard was running towards a black SUV with tinted windows. There was another crack in the air… The pony girls were struggling to pull the leash from the son’s dead hand. One was screaming. Shannon joined in and all three leashes slipped out, freeing them.
The last guard knelt by the cover of the car and aimed his weapon up at the dunes. Another volley of shots, this time from two men riding camels up the road, killed the guard. He slumped over, a hole in his head and several in his torso and chest.
Men riding on camels…that was something Shannon had not expected. She stared for a moment and then gained control of her senses. She darted into the house and the pony girls followed. There was yelling coming from the back door and kitchen area so they hobbled up stairs, running the best they could with their arms secured behind them. Pony Girl Number one tripped, landing on one knee, pausing, holding up the other two girls. She winced in pain and got up to continue running up the stairs.
Men came into the front, yelling. It sounded as if the whole house was full of screaming men and slamming doors. They cornered the girls in Shannon’s room. The men were wearing the traditional garb of a Saudi Arab and they all carried AK-47s. There was more shouting and then the men grabbed one girl each and threw them over their shoulders.
As the men cleared the house, the shouting of battle turned to shouting of rejoicing. The girls were carried back outside. More men had arrived. There was at least at 50 men outside, many riding on camels. Shannon was brought to one camel and laid over a saddle that was covered with a thick Persian rug. Her cuffs were unlocked and her hands were tied onto the left side of the saddle. Her feet were tied to the right. The man tying her gave her a swift smack to the butt when he was done and then walked off. Shannon looked around and saw the same fate had befallen the two pony girls.
The men rounded up and then headed out into the desert, accompanied by the black SUV which they acquired in their raid. As they headed around the first dune, Shannon could see her first glimpse of the land beyond the palace. It was hilly and barren. The palace was set at the edge of rocky hills. Behind them, and past the palace was miles of sand dunes.
They did not follow any sort of road; it appeared they were heading into a wilderness. The dust kicked up as the small army made its way to an unused path through the hills. To either side of Shannon were rocky hillsides and the occasional bush. Shannon lifted her head, she was getting dizzy with her head hanging upside down and bouncing around. She could not believe that this was happening to her. They had grabbed her like she was some prized calf and roped her up without a concern to her comfort. She thought, if they would have asked, she would have gone with them. She felt the familiar butterflies and cursed herself for getting aroused at the thought of being a war trophy.
They travelled until the sun was beginning to set and they came upon a camp of tents. Many things caught Shannon’s eye – women and children staring at Shannon and the pony girls as they trotted in. Goats being shepherded up a nearby mountain. Women cooking around a fire. They stopped and there was much discussion and greetings by the camp inhabitants. A man untied Shannon, picked her up, threw her over his shoulder and took her into a tent. Inside, the floor was covered in Persian blankets and pillows. The man placed her down and tied her hand together in front of her with rope. Then he threw the rope over a wooden beam and pulled her up so she was standing up straight on her feet. He tied the rope off to a peg on the main post in the middle of the tent
The other two girls were brought in and experienced the same treatment. The three were left there hanging and looking at each other. Shannon pulled on the rope tied around her wrist, seeing if she could slip her hands out of it. The pony girls watched her. The ropes were burning her wrist so she stopped.
There was activity outside and voices, but the tent flap was closed. The sun was beginning to set and the light turned into golden rays that slipped through cracks in the tent and shone through the hanging dust in the air. One ray came down diagonally down across Shannon’s creamy breast and slowly worked its way down. Even after the day in the sun, Shannon’s skin still had that pale milk white quality. The light brought out the freckles that began to appear after the day riding in the sun.
The flap opened and an Arab in a black robe walked in. He was tall and had a dark, unkempt beard. He closed the flap and walked around the girls, examining them. He felt and groped their breast. He stopped at Shannon and admired her. He untied the rope holding her up and unwrapped it from around her wrist. He pushed her roughly face down on a pile of pillows. He grabbed her waist and raised her up so that she was on her knees, then he knelt behind her and adjusted his robe. He guided his hard cock to her pussy and rubbed it up and down the slit, and then he slowly pushed it in.
Shannon was wet and he groaned in appreciation as he slid into the tight, hot and wet hole. He held her hips as he slid his cock in and out of her. The two pony girls watched as he began to pound her and her pendulous breast swayed back and forth. He picked a steady pace and then groaned, holding himself tight against her rump as he pumped his semen into her, spraying her fertile womb with his foreign seed.
He held himself there for a second, pulled out, stood up, adjusted his robe and then left, leaving Shannon on all fours on bed of pillows. She remained in that position for a minute, then looking over her shoulder at the flap she decided he was gone and she lay down and rolled over. She looked over at the pony girls who were staring blankly at her and with their arms still pulled over their head. She looked at the closed flap then got up and untied both girls. They all stood there, unsure of what they should do. Shannon could feel the Arab’s semen dripping out of her, running down her inner thigh.
Shannon laid down on the pillows and the pony girl’s followed. There was some foreign talking beyond the flap and then six men came in, laughing and talking. They didn’t seem to notice that the girls were no longer tied up. Three of the men sat in one corner and opened a chest, pulling out some items to prepare Turkish coffee. The other three each grabbed a girl and pulled her a set of pillows. Pony Girl Number One was laid on her back. Her man lay on top and fucked her slowly while next to them; Pony girl two was on her belly with her man entering her from behind. The man with Shannon lay on his back and pulled out his stiff, uncircumcised cock. He pulled her head down and she got the idea. She took the thick, musky smelling meat into her mouth and began to suck on it, slathering it with her slobber. She reached up and stroked it, using her hand and mouth in conjunction to help him fuck her mouth. She looked up at him. He was watching his friend’s pound away at the two pony girls. His hand reached under her to cup and rub her hanging breast. His other hand grabbed the back of her head. Shannon could see his stomach heaving up and down, so close to her cheek. She then felt the jet of semen hit her back of the throat. The cock sprayed out once more and then became a slow drip of pearly liquid. She swallowed it all and held his twitching cock in her mouth. He was moaning and saying something in Arabic that had his friends laughing.
Each of the men fucking the pony girls deposited their seed deep inside them. When done, they got up and joined the other men drinking coffee. The other three got up and took their turn on the girls. The man on Shannon had her on her back as he drove his cock into her. He mauled her breast and came quickly.
The six men left the girls laying on the pillows on the other side of the tent, their pussies dripping with their semen as the men talked and drank. They eventually left as it grew dark. Some women with covered faces came in and brought them food, mostly bread and goats milk. They showed the girls how to dunk the bread into the milk and showed them to a back flap and a pit outside where to go to the bathroom. Shannon thought the milk tasted awful but the pony girls seemed not to mind.
Shannon slept restlessly. There was always some noise outside, a goat, whispered men talking to each other. Shannon realized that after a year in captivity, she could understand some of the words. Hello, goodbye, inshahala. When morning came, breakfast was brought to her. Shannon was the first to dare go outside to use the pit. It seemed that most of the men were gone and the women and children ignored her. They didn’t even seem to notice that she was completely naked. She could have been just another goat for all they cared.
She thought briefly of escape, but where would she go? She found the irony that she missed her room in the palace and that thought led briefly to thoughts of her home in America. She wondered if she would ever go back. She knew it was unlikely. She had come so far and it had been too long.
The day was uneventful and boring. Fall was coming, which meant that there was less heat and humidity, the only blessing. The sky was actually overcast. The hung around the inside of the tent. Shannon wished at least one of the pony girls could speak English.
Near evening, the steady hum of the camp made up of children and women was broken by the return of the men. There was yelling and chaos mixed with the thunder of their camel hooves. A woman began to wail. The three girls huddled together in a thick patch of pillows in the corner and looked fearfully at the tent opening.
Two men dragged a western woman in a flight suit. Her hands were tied behind her and she was looking at the ground, her hair covering her face. They pushed her up to the center pole and she raised her head, seeing the three nude girls in the corner. Her eyes registered her shock and she gritted down on her teeth. Shannon could see that she had taken some hard knocks to the face, a large bruise had swollen shut her left eye. She suddenly uttered “Oh, Fuck this!” and knocked her head as hard as she could at one of her Arab captors.
The man cursed, stepping back, then began screaming at her in his own language. A third man ran in and grabbed the aviator by the hair. They were trying to get the layers of equipment and clothing off of her and she didn’t make it easy for them. They would beat her occasionally to get her to submit but it took a fourth man to come in to hold her down, until they were able to completely strip her and tie her up as Shannon and the pony girls were the day before.
The woman was older than the three girls. Her bush was unshaved and she had a bit of fat around the thighs and belly. The men seemed impressed though and groped her and roughly slid their fingers in her. She had stopped fighting and a blank look went across her face.
Shannon looked at the flight suit clumped in a heap at the woman’s feet and saw the unmistakable patch of the American flag. A strong sense of foreboding came over her and she thought back to a story she read in school. By the pricking of my thumb, something wicked this way comes.
Outside there was suddenly a loud roar of a jet that flew over the camp at a low altitude. It must have broken the sound barrier because there was a loud explosion. The four men ran out of the tent to see what had happen. The aviator didn’t miss a second. The blank look was wiped away and she turned to the girls. “Do you speak English?”
Shannon was afraid to speak. She looked at the girls next to her, unsure what to say. The aviator said again, this time more firmly “Do you speak any English?”
When Shannon spoke, it came out a whisper. “I do.”
The naked and hanging aviator spoke quickly. “Go into that web of gear there and find the black box! Please, hurry.” Shannon got up, glanced at the door and rushed to the gear. There were all sorts of strange items that used to be hanging off the aviators chest. She found the pocket with the black box. She pulled it out. It was connected to a string.
“That’s it!” the aviator whispered “now pull the string off and hide that under a pillow, where they can’t find it!”
Shannon furiously tried to untie the knot that was holding the black box to the vest. She bit into it and finally she loosened it and removed the chord. Shannon ran to the other side of the room and slid it deep under some pillows. She was just in time because the men returned back into the tent. They looked at Shannon, yelled at her and she returned to her corner with the pony girls, her heart beating thunderously in her chest.
The men went through the aviator’s equipment and then took it out of the tent. They looked at the three untied and naked girls and began to discuss them. One man grew animated and began to yell. Another shrugged his shoulders and then walked over and proceeded to tie the hands of each girl behind their back.
The men left again, this time for a long time. The aviator seemed to be fighting back tears. In the end, no tears fell down her dirty face. She looked at Shannon. “When the fighting starts, you get down as low on the ground as you can, ok?”
Shannon nodded. The aviator continued and nodded to the pony girls “do they speak English?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Try to convey to them to do that do, ok?”
“I’ll try.”
She hung there for several hours. Then the man in the black robe came in. He carried a large thick, belt, which didn’t go unnoticed by the naked aviator. The color drained from her face.
He spoke with a thick accent but in English, “So, another American… I’m sorry about your pilot friend. He was no use to us anyway. I suspect that you think that we going to torture you, then put you in front of a video camera and then cut off your head?”
She stared at him, the hate seething from her eyes.
He continued, “That is where you are wrong. We are not those people. You are a Christian, are you not? Are you Muslim? I didn’t think so. What you are is a wild horse that Allah has delivered into our hands. A slave for us. You will bring us much pleasure or a good sum of money.”
Shannon looked fearfully at the aviator. The look emitting from her eyes was foreshadowing the future. Shannon was sure that the aviator was going to kill that man if not then, soon. Her look was certain.
He continued, apparently reading the same message in the expression. “You think you are going to escape. You are not. You think that you will kill me. You will not. I will use you. You will never escape and you will be broken like all non-believing whores are.” He pulled his belt back and slapped it hard against the aviator’s breast. She gritted her teeth and closed her eyes.
He swung again. This time the crack of the whip sounded like a firecracker. He seemed to swing hard…so hard he kept swinging, missing the woman and falling down on the floor. All the women looked at him and then saw the pool of blood coming out from under his head. Then the lamp exploded and it became dark.
Shannon reacted quicker now. She jumped up and frantically pushed the pony girls down to the ground, laying them and herself as low as she could. Gunfire erupted all around her. It was quick. There was yelling and wailing of women. Outside the tent it looked as if strobe lights were going off. Flash grenades were rolled into tents. A goat burst into the tent from the back flap. Its leg was injured and it hobbled across the room then fell on its side, making a pitiful sound. It kicked in the air, trying to get up but couldn’t.
Two western military men in military body armor and helmets came in. They surveyed the scene in the tent. One man pointed a rifle at the girls. She could barely see them but she could tell he was pointing a rifle at them. He said something in French. Then he yelled “Stay down!” in English with a thick French accent.
Soon, the only sound left was French voices and the wailing of women. Someone lit a flare and the room filled with light. The soldiers untied the pilot and got her some clothing from another tent. They handed the clothing to Shannon and the pony girls and encouraged them to put them on. Shannon obeyed, even though it felt weird but the pony girls just stared at the clothing. The female aviator helped them put on the robes.
They were picked up by helicopters that blew huge clouds of dust over the small tent village. That was the first time she ever flew and it was both scary and thrilling. The crew door was open and a harvest moon had just risen over the desert landscape. She looked over to the seat across from her. The female aviator was looking at her and chewing on her thumb nail. Shannon looked away, feeling awkward and turned back to the sight of the land that she was being freed from. She was free. She said it to herself in her head and wondered what that meant or if that is what she truly wanted.
Meanwhile, on the other side of the world, Master Tom typed to Tracy, “turn on your webcam, I want to see you.”
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