'The fastidious white mores! But seriously, Miss Gibson, supposing I grant your wish, how can you know I won?t put you in the brothel anyway?'
'I just don?t think you would. Oh, please let me down off this beastly rope.'
He found his cane and cut the upturned sole of her cuffed foot with it five times. When Corey?s sounds of agony diminished, he said calmly: 'You easily forget your manners. You would make a man a poor wife.' He left her suspended, her raised foot a blaze of pain.
It was absurd to see Achmed as an old friend. But after hanging by one wrist in front of Abdul?s empty desk for enough hours to seem an eternity Corey would have welcomed anyone willing to lower her foot to the floor. Released, she sat on the rug and blissfully rubbed her wounds. 'Thank?s, Achmed. Nice to see you again.' Resentfully, she asked herself what the hell else she could have said to him.
Achmed patted her hair. 'You nice girl. You pretty prisoner. Achmed make sure you never no more escape. Every evening we fuck.'
'Thank you.'
With the air of having seen it on the movies, Achmed cuffed her right hand to his left for their short journey to the familiar cell. The collar and chain was waiting. 'I?ll stand still while you lock it on my neck.' Corey volunteered brightly. 'You?re nice to me, I?ll be nice for you.'
The closing of the metal circlet round her neck brought memories of her former imprisonment. But, far more vividly, it returned her to the coffle and to Seth. She yearned for him with a terrible hunger. No doubt he supposed her safely sold and cared for. He would not have stayed overnight in Ben Sirah so would know nothing of Abdul Nour?s raid. She blinked back tears.
'Poor Miss Gibson sad she be chained again?'
'It?s not much fun wearing a collar and chain, Achmed.'
'You think you like brothel better?' He enquired solicitously. 'Wear collar and chain there too so no run. But nice long chain.'
So Achmed knew that too! Corey Gibson pictured herself servicing soldiers with a chain trailing from its metal band upon her neck. Girls were nothings here, just pets and prisoners. 'When am I going to be sent to the brothel, Achmed?'
'You no ask questions.'
'Sorry, I?d forgotten. D?you want to fuck me now, Achmed?'
'In one minute. Have not finish chain.'
She might have known! She was an escapee. A subject enticing rescue. Unhappily, she watched Achmed?s embarrassment. 'Don?t feel bad about chaining me some more, Achmed. It?s orders, isn?t it?'
'Is orders. Both hands, both feet. All locks different.' He dangled an impressive ring of keys.
The chain was impressive too. Links were everywhere. To hold one naked girl it was ridiculous. But Corey did not laugh. Fortunately, most of it dragged on the floor. She could bear the weight of the rest of it.
'Am most sorry… so much chain…'
'Oh, go ahead. Don?t mind me. Here?s my wrist.'
'You much kind girl.'
She watched the band circle her wrist, watched the padlock snap. The weight was surprising. She proffered her other hand. It was becoming a shockingly natural thing to do. When all her limbs had been banded and chained she caught her jailor?s apologetic eye. They both laughed. Achmed immediately saw the bright side. 'Can still fuck. Chain not stop open legs.'
Afterwards and alone, Corey wept.
Preparing for sleep, she was compelled to drag up and arrange what seemed like fifty pounds of chain.
'I will visit you often.' Achmed?s woebegone apology was shattering. 'Is permitted. But perhaps you no longer need?'
'Of course you must come, Achmed. You?re my friend.' In the light of morning it was hard to be cordial after the news. Corey was possessed by one big question mark. 'What did I do to offend him?'
'Achmed not sure. But is much troubles for him. Maybe he take out mad on you.' Achmed knew himself the bearer of bad tidings. 'Brothel not so bad. Much fuck. Some girl enjoy.'
'Why doesn?t he whip me, or something like that… One of those beastly tying-up things he?s so fond of?'
'You like?'
'No, I suppose I don?t.'
'Brothel best. Is just chain on neck. Plenty lay down.' Achmed was searching for silver linings. 'You get good whip. Talifa now top girl. She whip each one new.
'What on Earth for? If we haven?t done anything bad!' No prospects were having any silver linings for Corey Gibson.
'Is show she boss. Is make well behave.'
It would be rationalised. Corey was sure of that. Whatever was done to her would be coloured by Amphala?s own logic. Glumly she looked at the mass of chain still securing her to the wall of her cell. 'Won?t I have to wear all this hardware?' She asked listlessly.
'No one tell Achmed.' Her jailor beamed. 'How?bout one chain one wrist?'
'I don?t want to be chained at all. Can?t you ask Abdul Nour?'
'Is gone. Big fast hurry. Leave note.'
'And the note said to put me in the brothel?'
'Right! So that what Achmed must do.' He shrugged another apology. 'Note also says you be flogged every time you try bribe or escape. Use much bad whip.'
Miss Corey Gibson shivered. In premeditation, and under the guidance of this amiable Sudanese, she was about to enter a brothel and become a whore without pay. Talifa?s welcome would be to whip her nakedness… Probably severely. She would have no say about any of it. She had become a female facility with an orifice between her legs into which weary soldiers would thrust their hard penis and pump their semen in pursuit of a dream that was not there. It was all unreal. If Abdul Nour was killed in battle, his possessions would revert to the next bandit in line. For her there would be no hope. Bitterly, she wondered what a whore thought about after ten years of guerilla penetration. Once more she thought longingly of Seth Burdett… But Seth was gone.
'Alright, Achmed. I won?t offer you a couple of million. I don?t want to be flogged.'
'That same as offer.' Achmed retorted shrewdly. 'But this time Achmed no flog pretty back. Now we go.'
Corey sat on her bunk and watched the padlocks fall away. But there was no freedom there. She felt numb, unable to comprehend the full enormity of what she was about to enter. A whore! When her hands were freed they rose to the band of metal round her neck. 'Must I wear the collar, Achmed?'
'I take away chain. Collar stay.' He held up handcuffs. 'Talifa expect you be fixed proper. I sorry.'
'It doesn?t matter, Achmed. Where do you want my hands?'
'Talifa do what she like. Achmed lock in front.'
There was something appealing about Achmed. Gratefully, Corey extended her wrists. What a plight she had come to that she gave thanks for hands cuffed above her pubic hair instead of at her back! Bitterly, she suggested: 'Click?em tight, Achmed. I wouldn?t want Talifa to think we cheated.' Achmed clicked them tight.
Talifa took delivery of her new girl with an obvious delight in her own importance. It was not every Matron of a bordello who?s stable included a girl of Corey Gibson?s social status. When she passed the word around among the troops there would be tips for the favourable disposition of the socialite?s person. She made a cautious mental note to keep the number of the novice?s penetrations down to not more than a dozen a day. It sometimes took a new girl a little time…!
Corey watched Achmed?s departing back in dolor. He had a male compassion Talifa would not share. Girls were cruel to girls. She remembered the punishment room on her previous incarceration.
'I make you very pretty. But first I whip.' Talifa said conversationally. 'You going to be good girl?'
'My father will pay you a million dollars for me, Talifa.'
'That being bad girl. I whip you harder for trying bribe. Bribe not permitted. You come now to room.' In an inconsistent impulse of affection Talifa kissed her new girl warmly. 'I think you very nice. We get along fine after whip.'
'But, Talifa, why must I be whipped? I?m behaving as well as I know how.'
'Is nice introduction. Girls watch. Teach lesson.'
