Afghan Bound (6 page)

‘So tell me,' continued the Arab. ‘What brings the two of you to these mountains with so few supplies or clothes?'

It was time for David to take a gamble. He didn't know where the sympathies of his captors lay, and the wrong words now could prove fatal.

‘We were separated from our aid convoy,' he lied.

‘And the motor cycle? My guards tell me you were on a motorcycle. A Russian military model. Military?'

David searched despairingly for a reply, but all he managed was panic. The Arab remained calm and spoke in Fushto to the Afghan. Immediately she rose to her feet and he did the same. A few more words brought her to remove her recently acquired sari and the shirt. Naked once again she remained perfectly still while he cast a scrutinising eye over every inch of her body. When he had finished his gaze returned to her neat smooth sex where the metal pin still forced her clitoris to attention. With a careful hand he played with the stainless steel while he examined the red stripes that criss-crossed her buttocks. He had seen that method of control before.

‘Tell me,' he said, returning his attention to David. ‘Are you an acquaintance of Petr Ustinov?'

Another wave of panic swept over him. Should he say yes or no? Which was the right reply?

‘Petr Ustinov?' he repeated, stalling for time. ‘I—'

‘Yes, Petr Ustinov. He's a Russian. I have also been under his care, when he ran an interrogation block in Kandahar.' He gestured towards the clitoris pin. ‘It's a trademark of his. I have a similar piercing in my foreskin. The bastard. I was lucky to escape.' He told the girl to dress and returned to his cushions to await David's answer.

From the Arab's speech it was obvious he was no friend of the Russians, and David saw a glimmer of hope for his safe passage through this latest episode.

‘Ustinov's dead,' he announced. ‘We were in a camp at Herat when the Mujahadeen attacked. I think we were the only ones to get out.'

The news brought a definite change to the atmosphere, and the Arab chief clapped his hands to bring people running from all directions. In a moment the girl was taken away and the chief motioned for David to recline with him on the numerous cushions that were scattered about. Platters of food were laid out for them to pick at.

‘I can tell you are wondering who I am.'

David shook his head, believing the less he knew the safer it would be for him.

‘I am Malek. My father sent me to school in England, hence the accent. “Go get an education”, he said. “Iran will need men of knowledge soon”. When I graduated from the London School of Economics my country had gone back to bartering and anyone with a mind of their own had to be on their guard. But there is always a way to make money for a mover of people.' He swept his hand around the tent where several servants stood obediently waiting upon his command. ‘I give them a good life. I took them out of the gutter and put food in their bellies.'

David hungrily fed a roll of lamb stuffed with olives into his mouth and nodded as a token of his appreciation and attention.

The chief continued. ‘We are on our way to meet the force that attacked your camp. They weren't supposed to move for several days – until we arrived with the hardware. That is how we survive. I exchange weapons for drugs.' He rose and motioned for a guard. ‘But that is enough about me. Tomorrow we go on our way and you will go yours, but tonight we shall have a banquet to celebrate the fall of Herat.'

David wanted to enjoy more of the food and wine, but was taken to a tent where fresh clothes were laid out ready for the night's festivities.

By the time the guard came back to fetch him, David felt completely relaxed. Malek's promise to release him in the morning had removed any remaining anxiety and left him happily looking forward to the evening ahead. The first sight of the tent's interior did not disappoint and fulfilled his expectations. Flames bobbed and twisted in great braziers that kept the chill of the desert night at bay and threw shadows of the swaying dancers upon the gold and red walls of the tent. Occasionally a servant would throw cakes of incense into the flames and clouds of sweet scented vapours would fill the air, relaxing and soothing the congregation that lay on a great circle of silk cushions. Malek motioned for David to join him and the four women who surrounded his bolster. All four were heavily veiled and seemed anxious to pander to their chief's needs, offering him wine and food constantly. Of their faces the only part visible was the eyes, but their bodies were unmistakable beneath transparent silk pyjamas. Despite the see-through material no dark triangles were evident between their thighs, confirming David's belief that most Arab men kept their women shaved.

‘Sit down,' said Malek. ‘Have some food.' Trays of kebabs, sheep's kidneys and liver were immediately brought and laid at his side. The two servant girls who had carried them then sat at his feet awaiting his instructions. David was amazed to see that in sharp contrast to the rest of the women present, one of the two was pure blonde. The surprise on his face was so obvious that Malek laughed out loud and said, ‘Meet Miss Haines, my maths lecturer.' The economics don lowered her eyes in acknowledgement. ‘She came with me from London. Said she would do anything as long as she was with me. What else could I do?'

David studied her carefully. Like the others she was veiled, but her eyes were steel-blue and her breasts very much heavier, perfectly complementing the bigger frame of European women.

‘Is she your wife?'

‘One of them,' answered Malek. ‘Although she no longer sits with me. She's slipped down the batting order, so to speak.' The Arab leaned forward to caress her large breasts. If I get the urge for these wonderful orbs I send for her. They are gorgeous, don't you agree?'

Before David could react Malek spoke again. ‘Sarah, bare your breasts and show them to our guest.'

David could only sit transfixed as the beautiful Miss Haines did as she was told without the slightest murmur. The lecturers had never been like this when he was in university. With a straight back she pushed her breasts out for his inspection.

‘Feel them David,' urged Malek generously. ‘Touch them.'

David's fingertips nervously brushed her nipples, until Malek urged him to squeeze them harder. ‘Don't be afraid, Sarah knows how to please you. There was a time when she wanted to go back to England, but I sent her to my brother in Mashhad for training. Now she lives only to please.'

‘What do you mean?' David asked. ‘Training?'

‘Your western women are too selfish, only interested in me, me, me. In the East our women know their position in the way of things, but if they are contaminated by western ideas we send them to schools to be re-educated. Sarah was a little apprehensive at first, but look at her now, straining to please.' He signalled for her to stand, then added nonchalantly: ‘Remove your clothes.'

Without hesitation the woman who once dressed in smart skirts and jackets for her lectures now teased down the silk trousers which, her veil apart, were the only garment between her and total nudity. Divested of the flimsy material she stood proudly for the attention of Malek and the Englishman.

‘Does she please you?'

David could only gape and nod.

‘Do you like her cunt? She is the only one of my wives who I've allowed to keep her hair. It is so blonde and soft she almost looks shaved anyway. Touch it.'

It felt like wisps of cotton wool between David's fingers. Fine gossamer strands that failed to hide the swollen lips beneath. Eagerly his fingers slid between her engorged labia, seeking her entrance now slippery with juice.

‘Fair compensation?' asked Malek.

‘For what?'

‘I have granted you a night with Sarah in return for the kind gift of your lovely Afghan.'

There was little point in argument, especially if he wanted to come out of this in one piece. Nonetheless he knew life would be different without the dusky beauty. She had possessed his thoughts since the time he first saw her strapped to the table in Herat. He had made love to her, saved her life – but now he must give her up. In order to save his own skin they must part. Looking at the veiled, almost naked figure of Miss Haines, he considered it not too bad a loss.

Suddenly a crash sounded from a cymbal near the entrance, and in through the flaps came David's Afghan, surrounded by at least a dozen Arab women, all attired in veil and silk. The party travelled to the centre of the floor where, at some invisible signal, everyone except the girl began to dance. For ten minutes their bodies swayed and turned in rhythm with the music then, as suddenly as they began, they stopped. Each girl fell to the floor, and then crawled backwards until she was left at the centre of everyone's attention.

It was, to say the least, a short wedding ceremony. The girl was held on her knees in front of Malek who, taking up an iron offered by one of the guards, burnt his insignia onto her thigh. It was an abacus, with which he said, a man could keep tabs on his possessions. The pain from the branding iron clearly seared through her body until she fainted and hung limp in the hands that restrained her. Malek was unperturbed, he had branded many wives and many were unable to stand the pain. He returned to his cushions, which was the cue for the woman to take the girl and prepare her for the marriage consummation. To restart the festivities Malek clapped his hands and a line of women were marched into the tent. Each was attached to the other by a metal chain connected to a collar.

‘Russian soldiers,' he explained. ‘When we are finished with them they will be sold in Iran. Big healthy women like these are worth a lot of opium. If you like any of them, feel free. Sarah won't mind. She knows the art of female love too.'

The line of Russians was brought to a halt near a pole in the ground and the first was attached to it. The last was attached to another pole in likewise fashion, leaving the whole group looking like clothes on a line. Before long the first of the men came to inspect them. He was a short muscular Iranian who considered his choice very carefully, weighing their breasts in his hands before running his fingers between their legs, and finally finishing each examination by inspecting their teeth. He chose a prisoner with broad shoulders and a pinched waist that led to wide hips. Taking her left breast he wrapped a leather thong tightly around it before unclipping her collar from the chain. Then he led her by the strap back to his cushion and ordered her to kneel. When he was satisfied by her position he ran the thong through a hoop in the floor and forced her to bend forward until her breasts and face were squashed to the ground. In this position her sex was fully exposed at the rear, and was having a definite effect on David's libido.

This pattern of selection, strapping, and tethering continued until each man had a prisoner bent before him and each prisoner's buttocks pointed into the inner circle of the tent. David studied the proceedings closely and was amazed when the men remained reclined on their cushions. The reasons for this were soon made apparent when a guard unclipped the remaining women and led them to where a tray lay on a silk cloth laid out on the floor. On the tray were numerous lengths of sandalwood, smoothly rounded and lovingly worked into the shape of a phallus, and each one was covered with a camels foreskin. Once they had made their choice, each woman was taken to stand behind the pouting bottom of a comrade, and while the Arabs continued to eat and talk they were made to ease the thick dildo's up the exposed sex of a fellow soldier. With faces pressed firmly to the floor the tethered women could do nothing but allow themselves to be fucked with the camel-skinned dildos until Malek's new wife had been prepared and the consummation began properly.

With growing arousal David watched the highly erotic performances. The whole circle of Russian captives was systematically fucked by their own women, until Malek rose from his place and entered the ring. As he passed behind each pair the dildo was retracted enough for him to run his finger along the wet shaft. He inhaled the scent of each woman and tasted her juice. If he judged that one needed more lubricating he would order a guard to strap the culprit until she masturbated her comrade more thoroughly. Only when satisfied did he move on to the next.

Eventually he returned to his bolster. With a snap of his fingers he brought forth a fanfare of sound, and the beautiful Afghan was brought into the circle once more.

She was carried in kneeling on an H shaped litter. Her knees were resting on the crossbar and her arms and legs were on each parallel batten. She was fixed to the contraption by leather thongs which were wrapped tightly around her ankles, knees, elbows and wrists, and her face was veiled with a leather mask which was clasped and locked behind her head. The guards placed the litter on prearranged poles that held her delightful bottom at a height to match Malek's hips. They then marched the Russian women back to the chain, leaving the dildos embedded in the vaginas of their kneeling and restrained comrades. When the prisoners were secured the Arabs positioned themselves behind their chosen one to await the moment of penetration by Malek.

With great ceremony the Arab chief positioned himself between the legs of his newest bride, while his youngest wife stood beside him. Carefully taking his penis, she lowered the stiff member until his engorged glans nudged at the entrance of his new bride's sheath. Then with the other hand she gently teased open the girl's lips, and guided him easily inside.