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The Great Enslavement 3

by John Savage


Smashwords Edition


Copyright 2018 John Savage

Published by Strict Publishing International


Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author



Chapter I: Punishment


On the coast of the Sea of Cortez, there was a sleepy little village named San Miguel. A mere handful of crude buildings sitting astride a one-lane dirt road, it was once a stop for travelers, having one of the only wells in that part of the barren desert country. Long before the catastrophic event known as the Great Enslavement, when a relatively small handful of Islam extremists managed the impossible and killed off the vast majority of the world’s male population, travelers ceased using that road and the village was no longer needed. Still, some people stayed there, even after the Great Enslavement killed all the male population, leaving only the women.

One dark and stormy night, while heavy rains pounded the normally dry desert floor and lightning danced about, an unusual drama was playing out in one of the houses of San Miguel. A pretty young Mexican woman, hardly more than a teenager, was being punished. To be more precise, she was being tortured by the other women of the village. Her clothes had been ripped off her body and her arms bound tightly behind her back with the elbows crushed together. She was then hung by her feet so that her long, black hair fell down to just touch the floor. She was crying and pleading not to be so abused, but the pleas fell upon deaf ears of the people she had grown up with and known all her life.

Under the orders of one woman, a man’s leather belt was produced. That woman was bigger than all the others and a bit on the ugly side, but with the men gone she had taken over as the leader of them all. Calling the hanging woman several obscene names, she announced that each woman there was to use the belt to whip the young woman’s bare ass. Further, they were ordered to do so with all the strength of their arms. The belt was handed to the first woman. While some of them looked on with frowns on their faces, that woman stepped up behind the girl and swung the belt with all the force she could impart to the effort. There came a loud smacking sound, followed by a cry of surprise and pain. The naked woman jerked like a fish just hauled out of the water. A band of flesh across her ass began to turn red.

As the second blow came, the victim tried to cover her ass with her fingers. The cry that echoed in the small room was much louder, for the belt had struck those fingers rather than the padded bottom. Hands have a lot more nerves in them and the pain was more pronounced. She jerked her hands away and curled them into fists, crying loudly at the same time. She twisted around, trying to avoid the next blow, but could not. It placed another red mark on the soft flesh of her bottom. She was crying constantly by the time that woman had finished a total of eight strikes on the tender skin and handed the belt to the next woman.

Each woman had a turn. Most did not strike as strongly as the first. Perhaps they simply lacked the strength, or perhaps they really did not wish to hurt a young woman who had been their friend up to that night. When all had finished their turn, the entire target area was a mass of swollen and bruised skin, in various shades of red and black and blue and other unnatural colors.

Smiling evilly, the leader took the belt and added a dozen hard blows in rapid succession. The cries were more in the way of screams this time, and jerking of her body more violent. Her long hair lashed the floor in a pale imitation of the lashing her rear was receiving. Some of the blows were accented by loud thunderclaps from outside, seemingly synchronous with the crack of the belt against bare skin. After this harsh punishment, as the girl sobbed, most of the women filed out of the room, leaving the leader and a trusted lieutenant. Orders were given that the unfortunate should be left hanging there, then the two left, turning the light off as they went.



Chapter II: Escape


The desert ground, wet from the rain during the night, began to steam as the morning sun hit it, almost as if the normally parched dirt were rejecting the abnormal moisture. The same sun slanted across the desert landscape to warm two shivering young women as they trekked across the barren wastes. Both were young and very beautiful, even though they bore the marks of harsh treatment on their bodies and in the haunted look in their eyes. The taller, Shannon, was dark haired and, if cleaned up, was a strikingly beautiful woman. The other, her sister Darlene, was also beautiful but, having shared only one parent with Shannon, had red hair and intense emerald eyes. She was also quite attractive, even while dirty, disheveled and damp from the storm that had passed over them during their overnight flight from captivity.

The two of them had been slaves, owned by the top man in the new world government, an extremely radical and strict form of Islam. It was a fate shared by many of the women remaining after a manmade plague had wiped out the male population, leaving the only men those who had been inoculated. And those were the followers of a perverted and harsh form of Islam wherein all women were property and treated as such, not as humans.

By an odd and totally unexpected, incredibly fortunate set of circumstances, the two of them made an escape from the isolated desert compound where they had been prisoners, fleeing across the Mexican desert during a stormy night. During their flight, they saw the lights of pursuing vehicles but managed to hide in the vast empty landscape. For them, it was much more than simply fleeing enslavement. Not only were they the prized sex toys of a powerful man, Shannon had been instrumental in making him the Caliph when she assassinated the former leader. Added to that was the fact that she killed another important official of the new regime and two of his bodyguards when the man was just about to mutilate her with a very sharp dagger. For that alone, a maximum punishment awaited her. And under the new rulers, punishments were most cruel. Stoning and crucifixion were not uncommon, if the crime were serious enough.

Thus the two of them found themselves cold, wet, hungry and miserable after a night’s long trek across the desert during one of the rare thunderstorms. They stayed away from the only road to avoid the vehicles searching for them, but paralleled it in hopes that it would lead them somewhere. During the long night, they had passed by the small airport that was the main link between the Caliph’s retreat and civilization, and continued northward.

“What do we do now?” asked Darlene, adding, “I’m hungry.”

“I am too,” Shannon replied. “And tired and cold. But the sun’s up now and we should be warmer when we dry off.” A dozen more tired steps along, she added, “I seem to remember that some types of cactus is edible. You might be walking by a gourmet desert dinner.”

Darlene snorted. She was not hungry enough yet to fight past the thorns in hopes that the plant was not so poisonous that she would die in agony. “I wonder if they have McDonald’s down here?”

“What difference does it make? We don’t have any money. All we have are the damp clothes on our backs.”

“As often as they kept us naked, I guess we should be glad to have this much,” Darlene commented dryly. “Why couldn’t we be in a desert with nice, smooth sand dunes? This one is filled with rocks. My feet hurt.”

Shannon did not reply. Her feet were quite sore also. What was going through her mind at that point was to wonder just how far they were from the border. Not that borders meant much any longer. The whole world was one big Islam country now. But it was only natural that she should instinctively want to return to her native land. A nagging thought nibbled at the back of her mind. There were searchers out looking for them. Would they not assume that the two runaway slavegirls would do exactly what they were doing?

Still, she could not think of a better plan.

“Shannon, what are they going to do to us when they catch us?” Darlene asked.

For a few moments, Shannon did not reply. The same question had been bouncing around in her head for most of the night. “They won’t catch us,” she finally said. Darlene snorted again. “I believe there’s a village up ahead,” Shannon went on. “I heard some of the men talking about it. They bragged about driving up there to fuck the girls. Apparently Amir didn’t want his desert hideaway filled up with slaves enough for all his men to have nightly fucks. He wanted only his girls kept in the limited space. So his men had to drive up to the village when they wanted a piece.”

“Did they pay for it?” Darlene asked.

It was Shannon’s turn to snort. “You kidding? Those bastards take what they want. It’s my guess that the women left in that town are afraid that they will be taken away and sold. Just like we were. Or worse. You know that some of those invaders are sadists. So being nice to these foreign gentlemen in exchange for freedom is a small price.”

“Foreign gentlemen! That’s a laugh. They’re a bunch of assholes who don’t take a bath often enough and only think a woman is good for one thing.”

Suddenly Shannon stopped and held up her hand as a signal to her sister. The desert had been slowly changing from flatland to low hills. They had just come to the top of a rise. Below them was the village they sought. Thirty of so small houses, a few buildings along a main street and a dozen cars and trucks sprinkled around. But what made Shannon stop was the activity going on down there. Three Jeeps were parked around what had to be the village square and a dozen men were moving about. She dropped to her knees behind a low bush. It took only a few seconds to realize what the men were doing.

Lined up against a building were forty or so women. Three of the men were standing guard with assault weapons in their hands. Obviously the women had been rounded up, while the other men searched the village. It was not hard to figure out what they were looking for.

When all the houses and buildings were searched, the men gathered around the women. One of them, apparently the leader, made a speech. From their hillside, the two girls could not quite hear his words. But what he was saying was not hard to figure out. He was telling the village women that two slaves had escaped and were wanted. There might have been mention of rewards for turning them in, but there were certainly threats of what would happen if those two were not turned in. With a sinking feeling, Shannon knew that the chances of their finding help among those women were very slim.

“We’ll wait until those men leave,” Shannon said, “then we’ll sneak around the village and continue north.”

“Damn! Don’t we get to stop for something to eat?”

“Stop thinking with your stomach. If we go down there to ask for help, they’ll turn us in as fast as they can. Look at them. They’re scared as hell. You can see that in their body language.”

Darlene had to agree. The women down there, most of whom were younger, did look frightened. Some were hugging each other. A few looked as if they were on the verge of tears. She could imagine that the threats made were gruesome.

Having searched the village and made it clear they wanted those escaped women, Shannon expected the men to move on. But an argument seemed to be going on between that leader type and a few of the men. As the voices grew heated, the sound carried up to the hiding place, but they could not understand the words since they were in Arabic.

“What the hell are they yelling about?” asked Darlene.

“My guess would be that some of the men figure that, since they made the trip all the way out here, they should take advantage of the available pussy. The leader, however, is telling them that they don’t have time for playing around.” Her judgment proved correct when the leader threw his hands in the air and shouted something that was probably a curse. Most of the men, grinning like schoolboys, made for the group of women to pick one for a morning screwing. Those girls were lead away, frowning but not resisting. Fear is a great motivator when it comes to agreeing to being screwed.

Three of the men remained at the Jeeps, including the leader. Shannon wondered about them. Were they gay? And found young women not to their liking? Could be. Then one of the men went to the leader and said him something. The scowl left his face and he smiled agreement. Turning to the women, he pointed to three of them and ordered them to come over. The selected women, showing a lack of enthusiasm, obeyed. Resting their weapons on the hoods of the Jeeps, the men zipped down the flies of their pants. The girls were ordered to their knees and began the ancient art of paying lip service to the male phallus.

As the blowjobs progressed below, Darlene made a disgusted sound and said, “Bastards! That’s all a man ever thinks of.”

“Sometimes they drink and watch football,” Shannon said dryly.

“They’re not watching football,” Darlene complained.

The action did not last long. Three young women were allowed to leave after having satisfied their “guests.” From the looks on their faces as they wiped their chins, they had not enjoyed providing the service.

Over the next fifteen minutes, the men came wandering out of the buildings, grinning and happily chatting. When the last had returned, they got in the Jeeps and drove off. Shannon noted that they headed in a northern direction.

“Wait until they’re out of sight,” Shannon said. “Then we’ll go around the village.”

“Still heading north?” Darlene asked.

Shannon sighed. “Unless you’ve got a better plan.”



Chapter III: A Rescue


When the Jeeps were no longer in view, they snuck away back down the hill. In a ravine, they found a place of relative smooth sand and lay down to rest.

“We’ll move on after things calm down.”

“You sure those women won’t help us?” Darlene asked. “They have no reason to love those bastards. You’d think that they would want to help some other women.”

“It’s been over a year since the plague hit and those extremists took over the world. That’s long enough for the locals to accept the new order. People adapt. Instead of Los Federales, there are the Arabs. Instead of drug cartels, there are foreign invaders. Nothing changes much. Those women are just trying to survive. Without men.”

Darlene dropped her argument. What her sister said was true. Even back in the United States, a high percentage of the surviving women simply did the best they could. Which included not fighting men with superior firepower. Some women here and there tied to organize a resistance, but it was little more than an annoyance to the invaders.

Having walked all night, for the most part in off-and-on heavy rain, they were tired. When Shannon called a halt to rest, they sank to the sand. Despite hunger pains, and because the sun was warming them, they fell asleep.

It was Shannon who first awoke. For a few moments, she was confused. Used to awakening in the barren cell in the basement dungeon of the Caliph’s desert house, the warmth, bright sunlight and lack of chains or other restraints was a bit disconcerting. Then her flight during the night came back to her in a mix of gladness and dread. Freedom was something she had never expected to experience again – yet, here it was. No shackles or ropes upon her body, and no cell bars around her. That was a wonderful feeling. But she and her sister were hardly out of danger. A long road lay ahead of them, one filled with danger. If caught, their fate was something she would rather not think about.

Then she realized that it was the sound of voices that had awoken her. She tensed and her hand went to Darlene’s shoulder to awaken her. “Quiet,” she whispered as her sister opened her eyes.

The voices were not men’s, but women’s. And the words were in Spanish. She did not understand the language well enough to make out the meaning; what did come across, however, was anger in the words. And one that sounded as if the women were in distress.

The sandy area they had chosen was the bed of a dry creek running down the middle of a ravine. The voices were getting louder and coming from farther down the ravine. The sisters got to their feet and hurried up the hillside to where some dead shrubs and a few larger rocks offered concealment. No sooner were they hidden, the speakers came into view.

It was a party of women, seven of them, six dressed in tee shirts and jeans, various company logos adorning the tees. They recognized the women from the village. The seventh was completely naked. Six had angry looks on their faces. The seventh had a look of pure fear on her face as she pleaded with the others. Her hands were bound behind her back and a rope looped around her neck. The woman holding the rope was a little older than the rest, taller and heavy-set.

No. Por favor, no me hagas esto,” the bound one pleaded as she stumbled along. A vicious jerk on her leash quieted her for the moment.

“What the hell…?” Darlene whispered. Shannon shushed her.

The party passed the hiding place but stopped only a dozen yards farther up the dry creek bed. As they walked by where Shannon and Darlene hid, they could see that the tied woman had been whipped severely on her ass. It was a mass of bruises and swollen skin. The larger woman looked around for a few moments, and then laughed. “Este es un buen lugar. Estamos lo suficientemente lejos del pueblo para no escuchar sus gritos,” she told the others. “Cava el hoyo aquí.”

As the sisters watched in amazement, the bound woman was shoved roughly to the ground. The leader took the rope off her neck and began binding her ankles together with it. The smaller girl fought but with her hands tied could put up no real resistance. While that was going on, the two with the shovels began digging in the sand.

“They aren’t going to…?” Darlene began.

“Shut up. We don’t want them to hear us.”

The tied woman began crying as she watched the others digging what might well become her grave. Shannon noted that there were more bruises on her face and arms. Apparently she had been roughed up before being dragged up the ravine.

The two with the shovels halted and looked to the leader. “Más adentro,” she told them. They continued.

No he hecho nada malo. Por favor, no me hagas esto. Te lo ruego,” the victim cried out.

“Can’t we…” whispered Darlene.

“No.” Shannon was firm about it. She had noticed that leader had a gun tucked into her belt. Even without the weapon, there was no way the two of them were going to go up against six.

The leader turned to the girl on the group and spat by her feet. “Perra. Puta. Nos harías matar a todos. Mereces morir. O peor.

That brought on a fresh burst of tears and a pitiful attempt by the girl to crawl away. The leader laughed at her and dragged her by the feet closer to the hole, which was now approaching three feet in depth.

Shannon shared Darlene’s consternation. She fully expected to see the young woman shot in the back of the head and dumped into the grave. Why the poor girl deserved this, she had no idea. But there was nothing she could think to do about it.

The big woman gave some orders and the tied up girl was picked up and dumped into the hole in a sitting position. The hole had been made just big enough for her legs to stretch out, and just deep enough for her neck to be at the ground level. The two with the shovel began replacing the sand.

Pathetically, the girl tried to crawl out of the hole. The sides were not steep due to the ground being sandy, but with her hands and feet tied, she could make no progress. Just to make sure she stayed in place, another of women knelt beside the hole and pressed down on the girl’s shoulders so she could not move.

It did not take long for the sand to cover the girl up to her waist. After that, it was no longer necessary to hold her down. She still struggled, twisting her torso and straining against the ropes, but to no avail. When the sand level covered her breasts, she began to plead again, but was laughed at. Once again, she was told that she deserved to die.

Eventually the sand covered all of her body from the neck down. The shovelers had shown no consideration and a lot of the sand had fallen upon her face and in her long, black hair. She was angrily shaking her head in useless struggles as her pleas fell upon deaf ears.

Tu muerte será lenta, perra. Quiero que sufras,” were the last words spoken to the doomed woman. The leader laughed and spat in her face before walking away.

The begging stopped but the tears went on as the young woman strained with all her might against her sand prison. She could make no progress as the combination of ropes and the weight of the sand overcame her efforts, and assured that she would remain trapped and helpless.

Shannon put a hand on Darlene’s arm to prevent her from rushing down to the girl. “Wait,” she hissed. “Make sure they’ve really abandoned her. She’s not going anywhere.”

“You’re not going to leave her like that, are you?” Darlene said.

“Of course not. But we want to make sure we’re not interrupted in the process of digging her out.”

Shannon’s wisdom was appropriate. As was her insistence that they wait more than a few minutes. Almost an hour passed and Darlene was growing restless, but she froze when a woman came back up the creek bed, one of those who had buried the girl. Shannon wondered if this woman had come to rescue the girl, but she came only close enough to confirm that she was still a prisoner of the sand. Then she left.

“Now I think we can go down there,” Shannon said. Still, she was cautious and kept an eye down the creek bed.

Their approach was from behind the girl so she did not noticed them until they stepped in front of her.

Oh…! Por favor! Sálvame!” she cried out when she saw them.

As they began to scoop out the sand with their hands, Shannon asked, “Do you speak English?”

“Oh, yes! Some.”

“That’s good because my Spanish is terrible. Just a few minutes and we’ll have you out of there.”

Darlene could not wait to ask, “Why did they bury you? They want you to die, don’t they?”

“Yes,” the girl said, weeping now but tears of joy. “Carletta wants me dead.”

“Why?” asked Shannon. “And what is your name, by the way?”

“I am Maria.” She sniffed her running nose and added, “I tried to get the other women to fight those invaders. It is not right that they come here and kill all our men. And they are evil men.”

“I hear you,” Darlene said. They had gotten her breasts uncovered and were having to reach farther down to get at the sand.

“As soon as we uncover the top of her legs, we’ll try to lift her out,” Shannon said.

That was what they had to do. Once the girl was out, they untied her.

Shannon suggested that they get out of the area. The three of them headed out of the ravine as fast as they could.



Chapter IV: How Not To Make a Clean Getaway


They ran until all three were out of breath, finally collapsing to the desert floor several hills away from the village.

“Damned, wish I had some water,” Darlene complained.

“Maria, is there any place around here we can find water?” Shannon asked.

“There is a well in the San Miguel. But out here, not any.”

“How far is it to the next village or town?”

Carbonca is thirty miles away,” Maria said.

“Is it north of here?”

“No. South.”

“What is the next town to the north?”

San Felipe. But that is almost fifty miles.”

Shannon thought for a while as they caught their breath. Fifty miles was a long way to walk. And now that the summer thunderstorm had passed, it would get hot again. It would be a most arduous journey. She looked back the way they came, and then asked, “Will the women come after you?”

Maria started to say no, but then shook her head. “Carletta might. She hates me because I tried to get everyone to fight these extranjeros, these men from a far-off land. She said we must be nice to them or they will kill us all. But they come to San Miguel and rape us. They are mean men, malos.” She became more aggravated as she went on. “They came and took the big house of the man who called himself Jefe. He was rich and powerful from selling drugs, but he and all his men died when the sickness came. Those foreigners came and just took his house.

“Then, one day, they came in with a big truck and rounded up all the women in San Miguel. The old women and children and some who were not pretty or were too fat, they put on the truck. Then they drove them away. We never saw them again. The man told us they were ‘relocating’ them.”

Shannon felt sick inside. She knew the invaders were sadistic and ruthless, but this was something out of a history book about the Second World War. Maria had not spoken of what she was thinking openly, but Shannon had to wonder if those relocated people were still alive.

Maria went on. “Once or twice a week some of them drive to San Miguel. They pick which girls they want and fuck them. They are rough on us. At first, they brought out any girl who did not please the man who picked her, and she was whipped in front of everyone. We learned soon it was best not to anger them.”

“You…” Shannon began but could not find the right words.

“What my sister is trying to say is: were you fucked too?” Darlene interjected.

“Many times,” Maria said then spat on the ground.

“And you tried to organize a resistance?” Shannon said.

“A resistance? I just decided it was time for this to stop. Some of the others listened to me and might have joined me but Carletta prevented that. She is the Jefe here now. When the men all died, she took over. She’s big and mean and no one wants to cross her. I know some of my friends did not agree with her but were very afraid of her. And the rest think she is right that it is useless to fight these bad men.”

“But you didn’t back down, did you?” Shannon asked.

“No. Maybe I am stupid but I don’t want like being fucked by them and probably wind up with child by one of those bastards.”

For a while nothing more was said. In a quieter tone, Maria offered, “You have to understand something about Carletta. She is a mean as those malos. She likes to hurt other women. When I didn’t shut up, she decided to kill me. But she wanted something more… more dramatic. I think that is the word. She hung me up by my feet last night and had her followers whip my ass. This morning, when the men came to the village, I was hidden. Tied up and gagged and locked in a box. I guess those men were looking for you two.”

Shannon nodded agreement.

“When they left, Carletta decided that I should die a slow death. You saw what she did. I would have starved to death. She was probably fingering her coño as she thought about my suffering.”

“To get back to the original question,” Shannon said. “Will they come searching for you when they find you’re gone?”

“Probably. She does not like to be disobeyed. And my not dying a slow death is an insult to her.”

“Then we have to be moving on,” Darlene interjected. “We run and lose them in the desert.”

“Yes, but what direction?” Shannon countered. “And, did you notice that there were a couple cars and trucks back in that place? San Miguel. They can use those to run us down.”

“Damn it, I hate it when you destroy my plans with facts,” Darlene complained. “So, what do we do? I mean, aside from running very fast.”

Shannon was silent for a few moments. “Maybe,” she finally said slowly, “we can run as fast as they can.”

“Huh?”

“Maria, if we sneak back to San Miguel tonight, could you get the keys to one of those trucks or cars?”

Si. Most of the keys are all kept in one place. But it would be very dangerous. Carletta may have someone on guard. If she finds out that I’m not buried in the dirt…”

“They will think that we would head north, following that road,” Shannon mused. “So we’ll stay away from it. We’ll find someplace to hide until tonight. Then we get ourselves transportation.”

Darlene’s comment was to the point: “Beats the hell out of walking.”

With Maria’s help, they left the dry streambed and headed up a side canyon. She showed them a place where large boulders offered many hiding places. Then they settled down to wait out the hot afternoon in a shady spot.

With the rush to get away abated, Shannon could take a better look at Maria. Aside from the dirt and scraggly hair, and abused ass, she was a pretty girl with a fair body. Not in the class of herself and Darlene, but very pretty. She guessed that Maria was often chosen by the male visitors from the compound where she and her sister had been held prisoner.

“Now if we only had something to eat. A glass of ice water would be nice, also,” Darlene commented after a while. “But there is nothing out in this damned desert but rocks and sand and those stinking cactuses.”

“Cacti,” corrected Shannon.

“Whatever. Damned things are not worth a damn. Just a bunch of spines to stick you.”

Maria smiled. “You are hungry? I will show you something.”

Walking over to the nearest cactus plant, she looked around on the ground, finally picking up two rocks, one with an edge that would not be called sharp but provided a crude sort of blade. Using one rock, she bent over one of the flat cactus leaves and hacked away at the base of it with the edged one. Eventually the flat pad came free of the plant. Holding it carefully between the two rocks, she came back to where the others waited.

“This would be easier if I had a knife,” she said as she put the piece of cactus on the ground and held it down with a big rock. Again using the edged rock, she began pulling the large spines out. “I usually use a pair of… What do you call them...?”

“Pliers?” suggested Shannon.

“Yes. Much easier. The big spines are not the problem. It is the small ones that stick in your skin. They are so small that you can hardly see them.” She worked as she talked. With the large spines gone from one side, she flipped it over to remove those from the other side. “Usually I wear leather gloves for this.” Awkwardly, she cut a shallow line down the length of the piece, and then worked the skin off, revealing a greenish flesh. Bending the plant to expose the flesh, she offered it to Darlene. “Try it.”

“You first,” Darlene said skeptically.

Maria shrugged and bit off a chunk, chewed it and swallowed. Darlene gingerly took a piece and put it in her mouth. “Tastes a little lemony,” she said. “But not bad.”

They made a meal of several more pieces, the two Americans suffering some fresh holes in their hands from the spines. It was a hassle to prepare without the proper tools, but at least it reduced the hunger.

“We call it nopal. It is used to cure many sicknesses as well as a food.”

“I’m glad we rescued you,” Darlene commented.

“Me too,” said Maria.

They kept a careful watch for any signs of pursuit but saw none. Maria was of the opinion that Carletta would check up on her, but probably only after she had begun to suffer. “She will come tomorrow when it is the hottest. She will probably tease me with water because I will be very thirsty by then. She likes to see people suffer. Especially me.”

“She’s making you into a lesson for the others,” said Shannon.

“Yes! No one will dare to challenge her after what she did to me.”

“Sounds like a real bitch,” was Darlene’s comment.

After the meal, such as it was, Maria asked about how they escaped from the bad men in the big white house. Shannon tried to make the story not too long but there was quite a bit to relate about their adventure since their capture in the mountains of Oregon months before. Maria was fascinated by their description of what it was like inside that big fortress-like compound. She seemed especially interested in the numerous punishments the two of them had endured during their captivity.

Being tired from their all night walk, the two slaves slept a good part of the afternoon while Maria kept watch. She awoke them when the sun had just dipped below the distant mountains.

“How long do we have to wait until everyone is asleep?” asked Shannon.

“Since there is no radio or television any more, we go to bed early,” Maria said. “But maybe there will be a guard.”

“Then we will have to take care of the guard.”

Shannon did not mention the training she had received prior to being sent to Saudi Arabia to assassinate the former Caliph. To aid her in that endeavor, her owner, Amir Hahlil Al-Saud, had one of his guards teach her how to kill a man with her bare hands. As it happens, she did exactly that, making Amir the new Caliph. She hoped she would not have to use that skill on these women, but she had no intention of returning to her former status as a slave.

They ate some more cactus, Darlene complaining about the thorns. Then they waited. The sky held few clouds and a great many stars shone down on them. The lack of cloud cover also meant that the temperature dropped rapidly. It was not long before all three were chilled. Still they waited until a three quarter moon began creeping over the mountains. Shannon, realizing that moonlight was not conducive to sneaking, declared that it was time to go before it became lighter. They began the trip back to the dry riverbed and then back towards San Miguel. When Maria told them that the village was just over the next rise, they began the serious creeping.

There were two houses that showed light through the windows but most of the town was dark. By the increasing moonlight, Shannon picked out the shapes of four cars and two trucks.

“Which of the cars or trucks runs best?” she asked of Maria.

“The blue Nissan over there. That’s the newest. All of the trucks run good.”

“And where are the keys to them?”

“The car keys will be in Carletta’s house.”

“Figures,” commented Darlene dryly.

“The truck keys may be in the trucks. Or maybe in Juanita’s.”

“Which is Carletta’s place?”

Maria pointed it out. Shannon cursed silently. It was one of the houses with light showing. The memory of the gun in Carletta’s belt suggested that getting those keys might not be the best idea.

“Which is Juanita’s?”

Armed with that knowledge, they circled the village, keeping as low as they could. Eventually they came up behind one of the trucks. It was a pick-up, American brand and did not look in too bad a shape. As silently as she could, Shannon opened the driver’s door. Very little moonlight reflected into the interior, but it quickly became obvious that there was no key in the ignition nor tucked in any of the usual places.

“Damn,” muttered Shannon in a low whisper. The other truck was next to Carletta’s house. Getting into it would mean exposing themselves to a dangerous degree.

“Okay, it’s Juanita’s then,” she told the others.

That house was dark as they crept up to it.

“Do you know the interior of her place?” Shannon whispered.

“Yes.”

“Then maybe you should go in. Do you think you can get the key?”

By the dim moonlight, Shannon could see the young Mexican girl was very nervous. Nevertheless, she nodded and headed off. The two gringos stayed hidden behind a low wall no more than a dozen feet from the house. For agonizingly long minutes nothing happened. The two kept looking around nervously, ready to run at the slightest noise.

Then there came a scream on the still night air. Not a loud scream, more of an exclamation of surprise. It came from the dark house.

“Run!” said Shannon immediately. She was pretty sure the sound had been Maria.

But they had only turned to dash for the desert and had taken no more than two steps when they were blinded by bright light in their eyes.

Detener!” came a loud voice behind the blinding flashlights.

As they eyes grew used to the light, they could see at least four women surrounding them. They could also see that the largest one, probably Carletta, held a gun pointed at them. Shannon sank to her knees and felt like weeping. Darlene tried to run but was grabbed and shoved to the dirt by two of the women. A few seconds later, a noise made them look up to see Maria being dragged out of the house by two more women. She was struggling and making frightened sounds.

“What do we have here?” Carletta asked in reasonably good English. “You are the two Americans who escaped from the Jeffe’s house, no?” she asked. “The men came here. They want you back.” She laughed, a sound that the captured women did not like.

Carletta turned to Maria. “Usted… Perra! Puta! You should be slowly dying. You came back to steal a car, no? I should have killed you right away. But I was lenient. I let you have a couple more days of life!” She turned back to the gringos. “You two dug her out, no? That was not very nice of you. You ruined the show.”

Shannon felt tears creeping down her cheek. Twenty-four hours. That was all her freedom had lasted!

“Bring some rope. Tie these bitches up!” Carletta ordered. A minute later, under the watchful eye of Carletta, all three of the captives were bound with rope, rather harshly. All three had their elbows tied tightly together first, then the wrists. They were lined up next to each other against the house wall.

Carletta, obviously enjoying this scene, walked back and forth in front of them, waving her gun casually as she talked.

“You two are quite beautiful: hermosa, as we say.” Pausing to grab one of Shannon’s breasts roughly, she added, “Muy hermosa. Magnífica.” She laughed again as Shannon gave out with a little cry of pain and surprise.

She inspected Darlene after Shannon and pronounced her also beautiful. “No wonder those men want you back,” she announced. “Maybe they will pay for you. Like a reward, maybe?” The idea seemed to greatly amuse her.

“These two,” she said, turning to the women standing around, “take them and lock them away. Make sure they do not escape. This one,” she added, pointing to the quivering and crying Maria, “I will teach her not to leave a hole when I bury her in it.” Again she laughed, a most wicked sound that made the bound women’s blood turn cold.

Shannon knew that kind of laugh well. It was the laugh of a sadist planning to inflict a great deal of pain.



Chapter V: A Long Night


Shannon and Darlene were dragged off to one of the buildings. It might have been a storeroom because it held only some boxes and miscellaneous furniture when the light was switched on. They were pushed over to a couple of chairs and forced to sit down. The chairs were made of metal tubes and had low backs. Perhaps they were meant to be kitchen chairs. Each girl had her arms pulled over the backs and the wrists tied down to their ankles. More rope was added around their chests and then some around their thighs to hold them to the chair.

“I am Juanita,” one of them said. “We do not have a cárcel, a jail. So you will have to be tied good enough so you cannot escape. Carletta would be very mad if you did. She would probably bury me in the sand up to my neck.” She laughed as if that were a very funny joke.

The ropes were quarter inch hemp and tied very tightly. Not as skillfully as the Arabs normally did with Shannon and Darlene, but efficiently enough. They made up for a lack of precision with an overabundance of tightness. So tight, in face, around their stomachs that breathing became difficult. Both Shannon and Darlene had been tied in worse positions, but this would become quite uncomfortable if they remained there for very long.

“Why are you two wearing dresses?” Juanita asked. “I was told they keep all the slavegirls naked in that place.”

“We were going to a party,” replied Shannon sarcastically. That earned her a slap across the face.

“Did you see Maria’s ass? Everyone took a turn whipping it. Pretty, was it not?” When neither of them replied, she went on, “Your asses may soon look like hers.”

“Why?” muttered Darlene. “Isn’t it bad enough that you’re going to send us back to that horrible place?”

Juanita almost purred. “Because Carletta likes to hurt women. And I do too.”

“Are you really going to give us back to them?” asked Shannon.

A laugh answered her question. “Of course! It would be too dangerous to help you. If those Arabs found out, we would all be punished.” For a moment she became serious. “They have already killed too many of us.”

Shannon could sense that she was thinking of those who were hauled away as well as the men who died from the virus. “Do you think that turning us over to them will protect you?” she said. “They will do whatever they want to you. Giving us to them will not change that. They’re ruthless.”

Juanita lifted her hand as if to strike Shannon again but halted. With a sigh, she lowered her arm and said, “Maria said that we should either try to kill them or all of us move away from San Miguel. Someplace far from that big white house and those bad men. Someplace where they will never go.”

“They’re taking over the whole world,” Darlene interjected. “No place is safe.”

“Actually, that is a good idea,” Shannon interrupted. “There are places where they will not come for many generations. Maybe never. You should move everyone.” She paused to let that sink in, then added, “And take us with you.”

Looking towards the door, Juanita said, “Carletta says that if we try to move, they will come after us. They have airplanes and trucks and will catch us. She says it is better to be their friends and they will not harm us.”

“Do you like getting raped a couple times a week?”

For a moment Juanita just stared at the dark haired American. Whatever she was going to say never came out. Carletta’s voice from the doorway cut her off.

“Are you trying to corrupt my girls?” she asked. “That would not be a good idea.” There was venom in her voice. Shannon could believe that this woman was a true sadist. There was hatred in her eyes and dripping from her words. “Giving you to the Arabs will make them happy. Maybe even there will be a reward.” Her eyes turned down to Shannon’s ample breasts straining against the thin material of her dress. “But first we will have some fun.” She laughed and Juanita joined her. It was Shannon’s turn to sigh. There was no winning with these women.

“In the morning I will teach you not to interfere with my plans. It was not good that you took Maria from the ground. You will pay for that. Then, after a few days of suffering, I will send someone to the Arabs’ house and tell them we have caught you. I don’t think they will mind if you’re beaten and bruised.” She smiled as she spoke.

Stepping up to Shannon, Carletta grabbed a breast and squeezed. Shannon could not help but cry out. The big woman was strong and those fingers digging into her flesh really hurt. She laughed, gave a vicious twist to the breast, and then turned to go. Over her shoulder, she ordered Juanita, “Mantener un guardia aquí. No queremos que nuestros invitados se escapen.

Juanita was grinning as Carletta left. “I’ll get one of the others to guard you. I want a good night’s sleep. Tomorrow will be a very busy day for you two and I plan to be giving a large part of the pain to you.” She grinned like a cat with a mouse. “Carletta is very good at making a girl hurt. You will feel much pain. Stay here. I will send someone back to keep you company.”

“Wait!” called out Shannon. “My hands have gone to sleep. If we are left tied like this all night, with no blood circulating in our hands, serious damage will be done.”

Juanita look puzzled. “So?” she said.

“If that happens, the Arabs will not be happy. They want us in good shape. We are special toys to their leader. If we are damaged, he will not be happy.”

It took a few seconds for Juanita to understand that concept. “I cannot let you be free,” she finally said.

“At least tie us a different way. So hands will not be harmed.”

Juanita was frowning as she walked out. Shannon sighed. Her effort to gain them a little more comfort – and maybe avoid serious damage – failed. Her hands were sort of numb, but she had exaggerated. She was pretty sure they would not get worse. This she knew from plenty experience.

“What happened to the friendly Mexicans who welcome American tourists?” Darlene asked, heavy on the sarcasm.

“That was another time and a different world,” Shannon said bleakly.

Darlene tried to twist her body and strained against the cruelly tight ropes holding her arms, but it was useless. They were simply tied too tightly to work their way free.

Just as it was looking as if they were going to spend a long, uncomfortable night tied like that, Juanita came back in, with another of the women. Without a word, she began untying the ropes from Shannon’s elbows. Fortunately the ropes around her body were around the waist and therefore below the elbows. When the final rope was pulled off, Juanita was surprised to see how deeply the ropes had cut into the flesh of her arm. And how dark her hands were. She guessed that Shannon was telling the truth. She then did the same for Darlene.

After checking all the other ropes to assure herself that these two would not be freeing themselves, she told the other woman to stay in that room and guard them. She hinted strongly that “un gran castigo”, a great punishment, would befall her were they to escape. The young woman blanched at the thought – and probably the memory of what had been done to Maria. Then Juanita left, but only after she squeezed four breasts cruelly.

Shannon looked at the female guard. She was young, probably only recently having left the teenage years behind her. On the plain side, long black hair and dark eyes, and looking nervous. She pulled up another chair and sat down facing the prisoners.

“What is your name?” asked Shannon when the idea flashed into her mind that this girl might be turned into an ally. “My name is Shannon. This is my sister, Darlene.”

The girl glanced nervously towards the door before speaking as if uncertain if she was allowed to talk to the captives. “My name is Linda.”

“Linda, do you know what it is like for a woman in that big house with the Arabs?”

Linda shook her head. “They say that will make any woman they want into a slave. Un esclavo.”

“That is right. They captured us in Oregon and we were sold at a slave auction. Do you understand what that means?”

“No.”

“We were sold like cattle to the highest bidder. Then we were shipped down here to the property of an important man. And a cruel man.”

It was a very abbreviated version of the tale.

She went on, “We were kept tied up or chained all the time. And punished. Even when we obeyed. Those men like to hurt women.”

“Is it true you were kept naked?” Linda asked.

“Most of the time. They made us put on these dresses because they were being shown off to some guests. It was terrible. Do you have any idea what it means to be a slave?”

Linda said nothing, so Shannon tried another tack. “When the men come to your village, do they have sex with you also?”

Linda nodded.

“They did that to us all the time there. And when they weren’t using us for sex, we were kept locked in a cell or tortured.”

Linda frowned. “You do not look tortured.”

“The head man there, what you would call “jefe,” wanted to keep us good looking. The punishments hurt and were horrible but only left marks that healed.” She went on to describe some of the torments she was forced to endure. Like whippings, being tied so tightly that it was a constant pain, and sexual acts of all kinds. “I do not want to go back there,” she concluded.

For a long while nothing was said in the room. Shannon hoped that she had made an impression on the girl. And that she was not like that Carletta and Juanita, female sadists.

Eventually Linda rose from the chair and went over to the two bound women. Hesitantly and gently, she touched the mound of Shannon’s breast. “You are quite beautiful,” she said. Kneeling, she ran her hands along Shannon’s thighs were the dress had been torn. It was quite obvious from the look in her eyes that she was turned on by touching this gringo woman.

Figuring that it might be worth the effort to make this girl into a friend, Shannon smiled and said, “I think you’re beautiful, too.”

A frown raced across Linda’s face but then she smiled shyly.

“I wish I could touch you,” Shannon went on, still smiling. Then she added, “It feels good when you touch me.”

Shannon was not normally a lesbian but had had a few pleasant experiences before the invasion, and had been forced into the act several times in captivity.

“If I wasn’t tied up, we could have some fun,” she ventured.

“Oh! I cannot do that.” Linda was suddenly frightened.

“Too bad,” Shannon said while trying to look very disappointed.

Linda went back to her chair and sat down. But her eyes kept roaming over the bodies of her prisoners.

Shannon looked to Darlene, who had a look of puzzlement mixed with hope. Then she turned to Linda again. Might as well jump in with both feet, she thought.

“Linda, if you were to take off your jeans and come over here, maybe you could straddle the chair and I could…” She did not finish the sentence but stuck her tongue out and wiggled it in unmistakable invitation.


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