Captives of the Colonel

Chapter Two

Chapter Two

The leader of the raiding party, a tall, hawk-faced man of some thirty years, walked over and stood between the two trembling women, his hands on his hips as he stared down at their stained and dusty bodies.

“I am Razak,” he said in English, startling both women. “My father was once Maharajah of Gadoor, and I was his oldest son and a Prince. These lands were his and would have been mine…until the British came. Now, my father is dead, and I am reduced to leading a raiding party, capturing and ransoming those who can afford to pay and enslaving those who cannot.” He paused and gave a venomous smile. “And now, I have captured you. I shall set an extortionate price for you both, and I could almost wish that it is not paid, for then I would have the pleasure of seeing you both sold as slaves to some fat merchant.” His eyes glittered coldly.

Struck dumb with horror, Belinda froze, but his words had the opposite effect on Arabella, and she writhed in her bonds, pleading incoherently into her gag.

Razak studied her for a few moments, then bent and untied her gag. “Speak,” he invited her. “You have until I become bored with you.”

Arabella spat the wooden bar from her jaws. “How dare you?” she began furiously. “How dare you treat us like this and threaten to make us slaves? We are British and I demand you let us go at once. My husband is Colonel of the 17th Lancers at Peshlara; and, when he hears of your disgusting behaviour towards us, he’ll have you and your men hunted down and hanged, you…you…animal.”

Faster than a striking snake, his right hand shot out and gripped Arabella’s throat; and, as she spluttered for air, his eyes blazed down into hers. “Do not try my patience, woman,” he warned, “or I will have you whipped for your insolence.”

Even with the memory of the two whip cuts which had seared across her thighs still fresh in her mind, Arabella could not believe he would really do it. “You…You wouldn’t dare,” she quavered. Then she saw his eyes narrow to glittering slits and realised her mistake.

“No,” she squealed. “No. Please don’t, I beg you. I didn’t mean it. Don’t whip me, please, please don’t.” Her eyes bulged with terror to the horrifying knowledge that he need only say the word, and she would be whipped without mercy.

His lips twisted into a sneer. “You beg like a slave,” he said scornfully. “What would your husband think of you if he heard you pleading for mercy from me, a mere native? Would he still wish to ransom you? Or would he think that as you plead like a slave; you should be a slave and leave you here to be sold?”

“No,” Arabella moaned. “No, no, no. He will ransom me. He’ll pay you whatever you want. He will, I promise. And..And my friend, too. She is to marry a Captain in my husband’s regiment, and she will be ransomed, too. Both of us. You’ll be rich men, all of you, if you just let us go.”

Razak smiled evilly. “But will your men still want you?” he asked cruelly. “Now that you are both…what is the term that you British use…ah, yes…damaged goods?”

Arabella flushed a bright scarlet as he taunted her about her double violation by his men but knew her only hope of freedom was to remain calm. “I..I will not tell my husband,” she replied quietly. “I..I give you my word and that of my friend.”

“Your word?” Razak chuckled. “You give me your word that you will lie to your husband? If you will do that, why should I believe that you would keep your word to me?”

Arabella stared up at him numbly, caught out by her own words; and, before she could think of anything else to say, Razak picked up her gag and thrust it back between her jaws.

He tied it tightly in place then grinned into her face.

“My men and I do not care whether you tell your husband or not,” he chuckled. “It will be some weeks before your ransom can be paid; and, in that time, you will serve us in any way we command. By the time you return to his bed, far from wishing to hunt us down and kill us, he might wish to find us to say thank you for what you have learned.” He gave a great shout of laughter as both Arabella and Belinda whimpered in unison as they learned what their immediate future was to hold.

“Five thousand rupees,” he said, looking down at them. “Five thousand for each of you. It is five times what you would each fetch as slaves. I wonder if your Colonel and your Captain will think you are worth it?”

Kneeling down between the two spread-eagled and gagged women, he sent his hands roaming over their defenceless breasts, fondling the resilient flesh, and caressing their n*****s until the tender buds grew hard and engorged and the two girls gasped and writhed in helpless response to the furious arousal his fingers created in their bodies.

He lowered his lips to Belinda’s left breast; and, as he sucked her n****e into his mouth, the small blonde arched her spine, thrusting her body up to meet him in blatant surrender and need, her mind unable to control the urgent desire she felt. His hand raced to her groin; and, as his fingers slid into the slick wetness of her gaping s*x, she screamed in ecstatic anguish as his skilled touch built her passion to heights she had never imagined, and she shuddered on the brink of a tremendous orgasm, her eyes wide with awe that such feelings could even exist.

Then, to her total despair, Razak turned his attentions to Arabella, forcing the brunette to the same desperate peak of quivering, gasping lust. Both captives needed only the smallest nudge to push them over the edge of the massive climaxes boiling and seething in their bellies. Squealing heartfelt pleas into their gags, both blonde and brunette begged for the release they were unable to achieve for themselves; and, as he watched the intensity of their desires and the willingness with which they offered to submit themselves to his will, Razak smiled and rose to his feet.

Holding out his hands so that each girl could clearly see the damp evidence of her own passion glistening on his fingers, he gave a mocking laugh. “It seems that perhaps you may be worth the ransom I shall ask for you,” he said, grinning. “And if your lovers do not value you so highly, I know of several rich men who would pay well for a pair of young, white slaves who demonstrate such eagerness to please.”

With a contemptuous chuckle, he turned his back on the two wildly aroused women and strode away, calling orders to his men.

Belinda stared at his retreating back, unable and unwilling to believe that she was not to be permitted to relieve the s****l tension his hands had forced upon her; but, even as her eyes filled with tears of anger and frustration, she could not quite suppress a shameful tingle of excitement at the memory of the arrogance and casual authority with which Razak had pillaged her body. Pillaged her and then walked away, callously ignoring her needs.

Belinda gulped as an extremely unpalatable fact became clear to her. Razak’s arousal of Arabella and her had had little to do with his desire or pleasure but was simply a way of assessing their suitability for enslavement should the ransoms not be paid. Incredible though it seemed to Belinda, the tall Indian actually saw her as a slave, as a commodity or a chattel, to be valued and assigned a price then put forward for sale on the open market, or perhaps even haggled over before the final deal was struck.

All of this at a time and in a country where the British Empire ruled, Queen Victoria was Empress and all forms of slavery had long since been made illegal. It simply could not happen…the law said it could not…and Belinda knew it could not… Yet, as Razak’s men released the ropes at her throat and ankles, pulled her to her feet, then neck-leashed her behind one of the horses, the impossible became all too real…

At a signal from Razak, the raiding party moved off; and, as the long rope from the saddle to Belinda’s throat rose from the dust and tightened, the horrified blonde had no alternative but to follow.

Arabella, too, leashed to a second horse, was equally as helpless to resist. As the sun arced high in the sky and the dust rose from beneath the horses’ hooves, the sweating captives toiled on; their naked bodies coated in yellow dust and gagged lips parched and dry.