Hans Meijer - The slave girl

The ring in the ceiling from which she hung, and the stanchions off to each side to which her feet were tethered could scarcely have been installed for her special benefit. Abdul Nour evidently preferred his females at a disadvantage when interviewed. No doubt the long wait in the vacant luxury and the incongruity of their own condition compared to what they saw around was conducive to a softening up of feminine fortitude. Corey cringed in misery at thought of a man seated and regarding her across the polished surface of the desk.

Abdul Nour did not match his office. Probably he rarely used it. He was not as modern, he was not as polished, he was not as clean. He belonged in the desert and wore the clothes for it. He was of no great stature but exuded the unnamed force all such men have. His English was perfect.

"Miss Corey Gibson!" His bow was brief before he took his seat. "I am Abdul Nour. This is my headquarters, the home base of our Cause. It is called Amphala. You are my prisoner." His tone was briskly genial. "May I complement you on a magnificent growth of pubic hair?"

The suspended daughter of the Planet Corporation knew herself one vast blush. She would not plead, but waited in silence.

"You were kidnapped by Assef Aslam. My men relieved him of you and brought you here. I bid you welcome." He pressed a button on the desk.

A servant girl, a tray, two drinks. A glass was held to captive lips. Corey drank avidly. Her host raised his in a toast. "To the two finest breasts I have ever seen…!"

Her blush could blush no more. Without hope, she pleaded: "Could my feet be allowed on the floor please?"

"Don?t be a silly girl." Said Abdul Nour.

"Then… please… Why am I here?"

"You are a useful property."

Corey Gibson hated the stress of her bondage. How could any girl maintain a rational conversation when nakedly spread and obscenely bound?

"Why are you imprisoning Audrey Cotswold?"

"She is a useful property too."

"You mean you?re going to make us… whores?"

"Not immediately, Miss Gibson. Try not to dramatize. Oh, by the way, I?m Harrow and Oxford in case you?re wondering."

"Didn?t they teach you better than to hang naked girls on the end of a rope?"

The frozen silence told Corey of error. She had said more than a slave girl should. Her pulse quickened. It quickened more when Abdul Nour rose, took the slender cane from a drawer, and eyed her open loins. In stunned stupification at her own stupidity Miss Corey Gibson absorbed the four cuts between her sundered thighs in a reasonable silence. She could not control the wild jerking at her tethers. Her host viewed this evidence of pain with satisfaction.

"You were saying…? Miss Gibson?" His interest was polite.

"I should have kept quiet. I?m sorry."

"Do I detect a slight bitterness?"

"Can you blame me?"

This time it was a single stroke, viciously aimed, delivered upon her sex with force. Corey screamed. Gasping and sobbing she made amends: "Forgive me. I was wrong. I was foolish. Please forgive me." She made her voice girlishly contrite.

"Ah, a better tone." He laid the cane on the desk and resumed his chair. "I have granted you a number of demonstrations of the effect of whip and cane on female skin. I hoped you would vicariously benefit. I was wrong. You need a proper whipping from neck to knees."

"Please… please no!" Corey sought the proper words. "I?ll be obedient, I promise I?ll be obedient. You don't have to whip me." In desolation, she added: "I?ll watch my tongue. I won?t be impudent."

"Hmmmmmmm." Abdul Nour was faintly pleased. "Then you recognize the whip as essential to the female rationale?"

Her sex scorching, her thighs aflame, Miss Corey Gibson ate crow: "Yes. Girls need to be whipped. Without the whip we are silly creatures. I was silly and rude. I?m sorry."

The guerilla Leader smiled. "I take your assertion with a grain of salt, Miss Gibson. But you read your lines well. I suppose you have guessed how much I, and others, enjoy the humiliation of a white heiress?"

"Yes."

"Hmmmmm, that one was honest. I understand Aslam intended to mortify your pride. It?s a worthy project which I?ll carry forward myself."

"Thank you."

"Well, well! You give good measures, Miss Gibson."

Corey looked him in the eye. She was weary, her hurts were bitter, her exposure a constant shame. What she said had the ring of honesty. "Since the first chain I have known there was no escape. I determined to do what I must to avoid punishment. It?s silly to lose my freedom and be constantly whipped as well. I accept the fact of my enslavement. I will do whatever a slavegirl must to avoid penalties."

He nodded, assessing her wracked nakedness. "If you were not tied would you lay and open your legs for me?"

Corey tensed, surprised. "If you wanted me…! But surely you know Achmed takes me every evening. Would you want me… after?"

Abdul Nour was delightedly amused. "You are one of Achmed?s perquisites of office, Miss Gibson. Do you feel he has robbed you of something?"

"I?ve been so damn lonely and frightened I?ve enjoyed it." Corey exploded into honesty.

"Could you not enjoy it with me?"

"Yes, I suppose…" She was blushing again. "It?s just that… at home… men don?t want to follow another."

"For fear they might catch something?"

Their eyes met. Corey could not help herself. She laughed with him at the picture evoked. "Forgive me." She pleaded, grinning ruefully. "I?m lost… I?m so damn lost."

"but you would obey me, even in that?"

"Yes, of course. I?ve supposed it the first requisite of obedience in a girl." She twinkled at him. "I?m told the thing between our legs doesn?t easily wear out."

"Miss Gibson, you begin to show a quality."

"Thank you." Her blush matched her stammer. "But if… I mean, if I do what… what those other girls do. If I have to be a… a sort of a whore for the pleasure of your soldiers… I?d try and be good at it. I honestly would. But then…? Would you want me sexually than?"

He studied her intently. "That?s important to you, isn?t it?"

"Yes." She twisted against the ropes. I?m not sure why."

"North American mores, that?s all. It once affected marriagability. The principle of soiled merchandise." Abdul Nour gazed, pointedly, at her sex, her breasts, her navel… then her face. "I would want you after a thousand men." He said simply.

"Then you will give me to your men?" Her heart was thudding.

"No, I will not, not yet." Again the intense scrutiny.

"Either you are unusually intelligent or your time in the cell has worked miracles."

"I am glad I please you." Corey?s wits were working hard. "Am I permitted to ask a favour?"

"Not if it?s relative to your being untied."

"No. I realize you want me like this. But could Audrey Cotswold and i be chained in the same cell?"

"You are lesbians?"

"No. But, tied up all day, and then the night… It?s so lonely."

"Suppose I had you chained to opposite walls, a short chain?"

"If that pleased you.. yes."

"Half a loaf better than no bread?"

Corey flung her hair aside. "Is that not the axiom of slaves?"

"I will consider the idea. Miss Cotswold has her uses. I am fortunate in collecting both of you. Would you care to marry me?"

Shock! Outrage! Hastily quenched derision! Corey fell back on a cliche: "You must be joking?"

"I am not acceptable?"

"I did not say that. But I have to ask: Why marry me when you possess me utterly now?"

"Marriage gives me more of you than a whipped vulva."

Corey shook her head distractedly. "I just don?t understand. The way I?m tied… like this. It?s not the way a girl gets proposed to."

"You are privileged. You have a proposal anyway."

Abdul Nour saw the anguish in his captive?s eyes. It was easy to read her thoughts. "May I explain a plan?" He asked gently. It is not a foolish plan."