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HARVEST
OF TEARS
CHAPTER
13
By
slave ruthie
"Please,
not again. Please, I can't take it any
more." Maria knew her whimpering
would make no difference to her abusers.
They were not interested in her opinion.
She was only a plaything to them - nothing more, nothing less. What mattered were the Padrona's instructions
and for the past 24 hours, the men had taken turns to forcibly rape her 'on the
hour, every hour'. Maria had been fucked
so many times in her pussy, backside and mouth that she no longer needed to be
heavily restrained. The mere sight of a
cattle prod, acupuncture needle, or other torture instrument was enough to
ensure she splayed her legs, spread her own buttocks or opened any of her lips
for penetration on demand.
She
ached all over. She was exhausted and
had no tears left to shed. Maria kept
her eyes lowered. The highly polished
riding boots in front of her face meant the rapes would start all over
again. She crouched on hands and knees
in the straw and waited to be abused.
The tip
of a red leather riding crop came into view.
"You look awful, slut. Have
you learned your lesson? If you have,
you may kiss the tip." This time,
Rosario did not draw back the end out of reach.
She allowed the trembling, naked girl to touch her lips to her favorite
riding crop without having to strain forward on her leash chain. "Good little slave. You see?" Rosario spoke gently while the filthy
creature encrusted with dried semen wept with relief at her feet. "Now that is so much better, isn't it? You could have avoided all this
unpleasantness if you hadn't disobeyed me yesterday." Her words brought further sobs from the girl
for she had not been allowed to touch the crop and knew that the Padrona would
have her punished on a whim even if she was obedient at all times. "Stop sniveling, girl. Crawl across the courtyard to the main house
and report to Alfonso. I want you thoroughly
cleaned up, fed and rested for later."
Rosario unlocked the leash chain from the back of Maria's collar. "Do not even think of running away. The guards are bored and would enjoy tracking
you down before you could reach the perimeter wall. I gave them orders to slowly torture you to
death if they caught you trying to escape." Rosario held open the stable door. "And if you disobey me again, I will
have your little brother gelded and sold to some very unpleasant African
business associates of mine. I am sure
they would love to play with a pretty, castrated white boy...for as long as he
lasted, of course."
Maria
wept in despair as she crawled across the hard cobbles. Cold rain began to hit her back before she
reached the laundry entrance. She did
not look up when Alfonso locked a chain to her collar, gently stroked her head,
and then pulled her towards the Security control suite.
*****
They
had repeatedly scanned the package for any suspicious metallic objects but
found no wires, switches or timers -
only two ornate hinges and a clasp. The
sniffer dogs discovered none of the telltale traces of explosives or incendiary
compounds. Academician Georgiev took off
his glasses, rubbed his eyes and peered again at the x-rays. "So...it is simply a wooden box,
probably inlaid with some kind of precious gems." He frowned in confusion at the images. "These two objects together inside the
padding- they have joints...like animal bones.
No, not animal - human." He
squinted up at his visitor. "They
are fingers, major. A child's or a
woman's, perhaps. They are wrapped in a
finely woven fabric, like gauze. This
note on top the objects has markings in oriental text. Chinese?
Japanese? I cannot tell."
Yasov
smiled and touched his shoulder.
"Never mind, my old friend.
I will have it translated."
The ex-KGB major took two small glasses from his pocket then produced a bottle
of a viscous, clear liquid. "Just
like old times, eh? Remember how we
solved that serial killer case? You gave
me a forensic profile that helped me find him just before he gutted another
little girl. Nobody believed me that it
was such a high-ranking Communist Party Official until you identified that the
fibers under one of the victim's fingernails." He poured the vodka then raised his glass at
his aged colleague. "To the past,
then...before Glasnost and Perestroika ruined everything.” The glasses came to rest on the laboratory
bench as both men brooded about the passing of the good times. "Well, my friend, let us take a look
inside this mysterious box to see what I have been sent."
*****
Her
pussy and bottom were so sore inside and she felt dirty and soiled. Before she was allowed to wash, Maria had to
endure an intimate, embarrassing examination by the Swiss doctor. He had made her bend over while he explored her
private parts. Surprisingly, he had been
gentle and used a cool, soothing gel to lubricate his surgical gloves. Satisfied that she had suffered no internal
injuries, Doctor Gérard had told the watching Rosario that her new slave should
not have anal sex for a few days but could still be safely trained with butt
plugs as long as they were slim.
"And I am prescribing a broad-spectrum antibiotic for your
slave," he commented. "We find
that many newly broken girls are prone to cystitis and other complications due
to their suddenly heightened level of sexual activity." The humiliation of being medically examined
in front of the Padrona had been profound - was she never to have any
privacy?
Maria
nearly fell asleep in the shower. The
warm water was so soothing after her cruel treatment for the past 24 hours that
she slumped down against the cubicle wall and let Alexa wash her body. Master Charles' slave crouched down beside
her and massaged shampoo into her hair.
Maria realized she no longer felt contempt for the girl. After all, Alexa was only doing what was
necessary to survive her own captivity and sexual abuse. But it did not explain the adoring looks she
gave to her master when they were together.
Had Alexa become so conditioned to slavery that she no longer saw
herself as a free individual? The
thought of becoming like that repelled yet strangely attracted Maria. Would she run as eagerly to the Padrona as
Alexa did to her master? No, she would
rather die!
While
Alexa dried her hair, she was allowed to eat some watery soup. Then she was led to a windowless cell and
chained with her arms above her head to lie on a thin, plastic-covered
mattress. Finally, she was permitted to
sleep.
*****
"Are
you going to tell me what is wrong with little Alexa?"
It
was Master Charles' turn to feel uncomfortable.
"I think she is still very traumatized after New York. I think it might have been a mistake to bring
her here."
Gérard
smiled. "And I think you
underestimate her, Charles. She has more
inner strength than many men I know. I
am, however, more worried about you. Do
you never allow yourself to relax?"
"Gérard,
I do not need this psychoanalysis.
Perhaps you should look at your relationship with our hostess before
offering any advice to others."
The
awkward silence between them was finally broken when Alexa was brought back by
Guy. Master Charles thanked him but did
not even look down at his personal slave.
"How is Maria, little one?"
Alexa
relaxed at the gentle tone of his voice.
"She will be okay, master," she whispered. "She is very sore and frightened but she
is not hurt...just, umm, in shock, master."
It
pained him to hear Alexa's faint, hoarse whisper but at least she was finally
communicating. "Good slave. Guy, put Alexa back in her cage please."
He
hadn't smiled or touched her. She began
to cry. "Don't worry, kid. Your master's got a lot on his mind just
now. He's not mad at you." Guy's kind words helped but she still felt
rejected.
*****
Once
the fever broke, Caitlin had been forced to confront reality without the
comforting madness of her hallucinations.
She twisted her body and stared down in misery at the healing stump on
her right hand where her little finger used to be and tried to forget the awful
sound and the pain as her torturer cut through skin, muscle and bone to
mutilate her poor hands. The angry, red
scar tissue where the branding iron had cauterized her tender flesh no longer
seeped or looked infected but it still hurt like hell.
How
long had it been since she lost consciousness while the skin on her back was
intricately sliced with red-hot knives?
What had they done to her body?
All these piercings, brands and mutilations were systematically tearing
away her identity. Caitlin almost wished
she had gone mad - it would be easier than being aware of her awful treatment
at their hands. But two things kept her
sane: a burning desire for revenge against THEM and a yearning to be re-united
with her father.
Both
were impossible dreams in her current state.
The guards had dragged her out of her cell to chain her up by her wrists
in a tiled alcove where, under their harsh gaze, she had been thoroughly
cleaned with a hose up her pussy and inside her backside. The mute oriental woman had then washed her
body and hair, brushing out the tangles until her unruly, matted tresses were
disciplined into a tight ponytail on top of her head.
Although
Caitlin hated having her teeth brushed by someone else, she was particularly
upset when the woman applied makeup to her face and dabbed scent behind her
ears. The watching men sniggered and made
comments that she knew were obscene insults, even though their words were
alien. They were treating her like a
piece of meat! Her hands were briefly
freed from above her head, only to be locked up behind her back to her collar,
and then she was roughly forced out of the shower area.
Another
corridor, another room. But this one was
circular and furnished with a dark red carpet and matching drapes on the
walls. Large, floor-to-ceiling mirrors
between the drapes reflected back the horrifying scene as Caitlin was forcibly
lifted up to stand on a circular stage in the center of the room while her
collar was secured at the back to an overhead chain. An overhead clicking noise made her look up
to see a metal pole on two more chains lowering towards her face. With practiced ease, the two men briefly
freed her wrists but locked them into broad leather straps attached to the ends
of the pole, forcing her arms up and away from her body. The ankle cuffs were next, with their short
chain swiftly replaced by another metal pole that secured her feet wide
apart. The overhead chain attached to
her collar was tightened somehow just enough to make Caitlin stand on tiptoe to
relieve the pressure against her windpipe.
She felt one of the men cup his hand under her cunt and steeled herself
for more abuse but a sharp word from his colleague made the man scowl and
remove his hand. They left her alone in
the room, struggling to keep her balance on the balls of her feet for relief
from the horrible choking sensation. For
the first time since her abduction, Caitlin had a clear view of herself. A naked, fettered creature stared back as she
turned to look in each mirror. She could
see her pierced nipples, the glint of a gold ring nestling between her shaven
pussy lips, and the matching ring through her nose. She swallowed and made herself protrude her
tongue. There was the fifth
piercing. Her eyes roamed in misery to
her mutilated hands, each ending in a tiny stump where her little fingers
should be. And in the reflected mirrors,
all the way down her back...
...Oh
God! The angry, red outline of a
snake-like dragon coiled from the base of her spine to the nape of her
neck. The tears she had fought so
bravely began to flow freely down her cheeks.
She half-stood, half-hung, exposed and adorned like an exotic whore
waiting for...for whatever brutality her captors chose. She would not sob, she MUST not cry out loud
and give them the satisfaction of seeing her misery. Caitlin willed herself to stop weeping before
anyone came. After all, she was a
straight-A Harvard law student and a Senator's daughter. Stop crying, damn it!
What
seemed ages later, a man dressed in a black silk dressing gown entered and
slowly closed the door. She recognized
him - it was the young oriental who had been in charge during the assault on
the Russian ship and who everyone in this hellish prison bowed to whenever he
came to supervise or participate in her degradation and abuse. He just stood there, watching her writhe in
discomfort. Finally, he loosened his
robe and let it fall to the floor. He
smiled and sauntered closer, pausing to stroke his partial erection, as he
stood, naked like herself, only inches away from her helpless body. "You hate me?"
Caitlin
glowered back and hissed, "What do you think?"
The
man's smile turned to a broad grin as his cock stiffened even more, brushing
against her thigh. "Hate is
good. I like you hate me - see?" He slid his hard penis between her thighs so
it rubbed along the line of her cleft.
Putting one hand behind her neck, he pulled her head close and kissed
her on the mouth. "You hate
me...and you want me," he murmured and kissed her harder, biting her lower
lip enough to hurt.
She
tried to pull back when his tongue forced deeper into her mouth. "Ugh!
In your fucking dreams, bastard!"
Her
insolence was rewarded with a hard slap across her face, making her eyes water
in pain. "No, in yours."
Caitlin
could not help herself. A mixture of
pent-up rage and disbelief made her bite back.
"Are you INSANE? I've been
raped and hurt and...and cut and burned and m-my fingers - y-you even had my
FINGERS cut off and you actually think I find you attractive? My father is a highly respected member of the
United States Senate. When he finds out
what you've done to me, he'll..."
"We
know all about father. We know about his
Organ-ization also. You think we Yakusa
not same? Him, me - we same. Maybe we send him video like Yasov. Maybe he like watch me fuck you hard."
"Wha...what
do you MEAN? What is this
'organization'? My father is NOT like
you! He's a decent man!"
He
smiled and caressed the soft inside of her thigh. "Now you angry. This is good!" Caitlin squirmed as his finger penetrated her
sex. "See? You hot and wet for me." He lifted his finger to her nose. "Smell how you want me."
"Ugh!" Her attempts at pulling back merely made him
laugh. "Bastard! Leave me alone!"
Using
only the tip of one fínger, he began to expertly massage her clitoris, ignoring
her curses and demands to be released.
Her cries became increasingly urgent until Caitlin was begging him to
stop. "Ohh, Goddd!! Y-you sick,
filthy, evil B-BASTARD! D-don't...OHH,
P-PLEASE...ohh. d-don't...s-stop!!!"
She
fought it so hard. Pulling herself up
made no difference. The relentless
attack on her tiny, sensitive member alternated between the hard edge of his
fingernail and the soft pad of his finger.
Caitlin screamed curses at him, shocking herself by her own crude words. She ground her teeth in frustration,
squeezing her eyes shut and trying to think of ANYTHING else than the insistent
stimulation of her helpless body.
Failure came with bitter tears of defeat. In a defiant shriek, Caitlin arched and
twisted in orgasm. "Bastard! I HATE YOU!!!"
"This
too I like - you fight back, not give up.
So...” Caitlin whimpered as he
stepped over the spreader bar so his lower body separated her legs. She would have choked if he had not supported
her thighs. "If you not like give,
better I like take!"
The
tip of the oriental man's erection nudged against her swollen, pouting
labia. "Oh God, stop! Ohh please, I've been raped so many times I
must be HIV positive. Uhhnnn!" Caitlin shuddered as he impaled her on the
length of his engorged penis in a single thrust. "Oww!
Bastard! I hope I give you
AIDS!"
"You
not get HIV. We fix - you have
inject-ion." Before she could reply
that there was no vaccine against the deadly disease, he began to fuck her so
violently all she could do was shriek in pain.
After
several hard thrusts, he lifted her up and withdrew from her aching cunt. He moved behind her. The man traced his finger down her
intricately scarred back. "This
good - I have you tattoo next but now I ass-fuck you good. You go tight on me or you get hurt bad.” When she felt his penis nudging against her
anus, Caitlin cried and tried to pull herself higher. "No, ohh NOOO!!!" Her abuser simply waited for her arms to
tire. With teeth gritted, she settled
her weight on his cock and shrieked as the rim of his glans suddenly pushed
past her tight sphincter.
He
kept thrusting deeply inside her backside until he came. Withdrawing, the man whose name she did not
know frowned. "You not tight enough
- you disobey. You get punish
now." The man snapped his fingers
and a young girl dressed only in a pair of light blue gym briefs and a white
sports blouse came running into the room with a cloth-covered tray. She knelt and lowered her eyes. Lifting the cloth away, the man pondered over
a series of gags that were neatly arranged in a row. Caitlin shuddered as she glanced down at the
display - there were large, round balls on straps, a smaller spiked ball with
silver chain on either side, and something that looked like a large tip of a
penis on the side of a ball. The man
stroked the shaft and looked up at her horrified face. "I hear you not like suck - this make
you learn." He picked up the
horrible gag and held the black rubber glans against her firmly clamped
lips. "Open mouth."
"Nnnnn! Mmmmmph!!" She tried to turn her head but he took hold
of her nose and pinched it shut.
"Nnnn!!! Gkkkkk!!!"
"Open
mouth!"
Caitlin
struggled to keep her jaw closed but he squeezed her nose harder and pushed the
penis gag further so her lips were forced apart and the rubber tip squeaked
horribly on the outside of her teeth.
"NNNNN!!!" It was
finally too much. She had to get some
air or suffocate. As she tried to open
her mouth just enough to draw breath, the man let go of her nose and suddenly
lifted her collar chain so high that her toes could not even reach the
stage! Caitlin's eyes bulged in
fright. "AKKK!!! MMMMFFFF!!!" The rubber glans pushed past her teeth and
rammed deeper into her mouth.
Mercifully, her assailant released her collar chain so she could regain
her footing and stop being strangled by her collar.
Once
the gag's straps were tightly buckled behind her head, the young man stepped
back with his hands on his hips and rested one foot on the edge of the round
stage. "I like you better shut up. Maybe we take tongue out later if you not
learn lick prop-erly. Now we teach you
why obey is good idea." With one
hard kick, he propelled the round stage out from under her splayed feet.
Caitlin
dangled in mid air, desperately moving her feet around in a vain attempt to
reach the floor with her toes. Her
collar dug in under her jaw. The only
way she could avoid suffocation was by pulling herself up by her arms so she
could breathe!
And
he just stood there watching. Caitlin
gasped in as much air as she could manage and relaxed her aching arms. Her collar squeezed her neck, making her
cough and expel her air. She thrashed
her splayed legs in panic, gurgling and rolling her eyes as she began to
die.
The
young man made no attempt to replace the round stage. Instead, he took hold of her chin and made
her look at his face. "You want to
live? You lift, you take a long
breath...HOLD - 1, 2, 3...you let breath all out. Now you relax arms...WAIT - 1, 2, 3...you
lift again!" He stood back again
and watched her follow the rhythm.
"Good. You learn fast you
only live if you obey and please me. I
take you to humil-iate Yasov but maybe I keep you for fuck-toy anyway."
Caitlin's
abuser grinned at her expression of pure hatred above the horrid gag, while she
struggled to conserve her energy and maintain the pattern he had set to keep
her alive...for as long as her arms did not tire. He was not satisfied with the damage they had
inflicted on her body. This sadist
intended to break her will, to ruin her mind!
Well, they had underestimated her and if they wanted a docile, obedient
sex-slave, they had another thing coming!
Disobedience had extremely high stakes but despite the danger, Caitlin
was determined to play. Let's see whose
nerve fails first, she thought. If I
lose, it will be a quicker end and on MY terms!
The
young oriental man raised a quizzical eyebrow when she lifted herself up for
more than three seconds. Their eyes
locked as she counted to twenty, her arms trembling with exertion. He looked displeased as she reached thirty
seconds then his mouth gaped when she loudly exhaled and let herself go limp.
The
pain in her chest as she hung with her throat squeezed shut was excruciating
but she was determined not to pull herself up and draw a breath. Caitlin's lungs ached for air. Her constricted neck made her dizzy. The vision of her abuser's surprised face
became blurred. She heard his shouts of
alarm from a distance as she lost consciousness and bladder control...
***
"What
am I going to do with her?"
Alexa
opened one eye and peeped out through the heavy, steel bars of the slave
cage. Her master was sitting on the edge
of the bed, holding the photo he kept in his wallet. Alexa had seen the picture only once, when
Master Phil had inadvertently left it out while taking a shower in his
apartment at the Ranch. She hadn't
touched it, of course, and felt a little guilty even looking at it. The photo was of a younger version of her
master with his arm around a very pretty dark-haired girl on the porch of a
house. They were smiling broadly and the
girl was resting her hand on her obviously pregnant belly.
Although
it was a happy picture, Alexa felt great sadness for her master. Something had happened to take away the good
things he had once shared with the girl by his side. She would never mention it but she wondered
if this was the person called 'Laura' that he sometimes called out to in his
sleep or during sex.
Alexa
pretended to stir as though she was just beginning to wake and watched Master
Charles quickly put the photo away. She
struggled onto her back in the cage and rubbed her eyes with her heavily cuffed
hands.
The
comforting restraints of her extra fetters and the reassurance of the securely
locked cage had been wonderful. After
Guy finished chaining her ankles to the end of the cage, she had lifted up her
hands so he could lock her arms above her head.
But he only locked her collar chain around the bars, leaving her
fettered hands free to reach down her body.
"Not too much playing, kid - remember to get some rest." Guy had grinned and ruffled her hair through
the bars, making the heat rise in her face.
Once he had left her alone in the room, she took advantage of her free
hands and soothed herself to sleep...
...And
now her master was looking at her, his eyes roaming from her face to her
pierced breasts, her brand, her thighs.
Alexa kept her eyes on his, slowly raised her left leg higher to reveal
her vulva and moved her head to expose her collared throat. Master Charles' somber expression dissolved
into a grin. "Teasing a master can
get an insolent slave into trouble."
The
trouble came in the form of being hauled out the cage, bent face down over the
end and savagely taken from behind.
Alexa gasped under her master's weight, crushing her against the cage's
bars while he repeatedly thrust into her body.
It was such a relief, such a release to be intensely fucked in this
way. Perhaps whatever was on her
master's mind was easing.
Picking
her up and carrying his little slave over his shoulder, Master Charles threw
her onto her back on the bed, forced her cuffed hands above her head. "Resist me, slave. Don't make it too easy."
Alexa
intensely disliked this order. It had
been something that Marek had used during her slave training at the
Château. It went against all her
naturally compliant instincts as a submissive and her first master's son had
tested her obedience to the limit with his harsh command to fight against rape. Her mind went back to the experience of being
easily overpowered by two guards specially chosen by Marek while he
watched. She had half-heartedly tried to
resist until her back passage and vagina were deeply penetrated. Then Marek had abruptly stopped the
double-rape and made her resist them all over again. He would not be satisfied until she did it
properly. On the fourth attempt, Alexa
had nearly bitten a guard's arm and scratched his face. But she became so distraught at what she'd
done to him that Marek had to abandon the lesson and have her sedated. After speaking to his father, Marek had never
again ordered her to resist rape.
But
now, faced with the same command from her master, she fought down bitter
memories of her childhood to dutifully writhe and struggle with all her might,
trying to wriggle away and keep her head turned from his face. If Master Charles wanted her to resist rape,
she would do her best to obey. Anyway,
with her wrists and ankles in chains, there was little she could do apart from
yield to his superior strength and agility.
She nearly managed to slide her body out from under his but he quickly
shoved his knee between her thighs, hooking his foot under her ankle
chain. His second leg pushed her knees
wider apart so her ankle chain was taut over the backs of his calves. With one hand still pinning her wrist chain
and the other in the small of her back, lifting her pelvis towards his groin,
Master Charles drove his swollen penis deeply into her aching vagina then
lowered his head and fiercely kissed her waiting mouth.
Alexa
convulsed in an overwhelming mixture of shock, desire, and fulfillment. "Ash, my little slave. Stephen was right about you - one of the best
rides a master could find!"
As
they lay together in post-orgasmic afterglow, Master Charles gently stroked her
hair. Alexa began to silently cry but
she did not know what her tears were for.
She was safe in the arms of her beloved master but something had
changed. Her nightmarish dreams of
prison and some kind of execution chamber had mercifully ceased haunting her
sleep so why did she have such an overwhelming feeling of sadness and
dread? Master Charles held her tighter
and kissed the top of her head.
"Shh, little one, everything is going to be okay."
There
was a soft knocking at the door that followed a pre-arranged sequence. "Guy?
What's wrong?" Master
Charles had the door open in seconds.
"What is it?"
"New
York Center just called, sir. They have
an urgent message for you from Yasov in Moscow.
He says he has to speak to you right away. Says it’s very important."
*****
"These
are pleasing." Guljana winced as
her assailant tugged at her left nipple ring.
"And this is decorative."
He jabbed his finger into the center of her brand. "I have seen this sign before on the jet
that the devil they call 'Ramasfael' used at Kabul airfield. Are all the female slaves in the USA marked
like this to show who owns them? Perhaps
these Americans are more civilized than we think! But what I do not understand, my little
houri, is why you are here.” Sharazai's
breath stank as he spoke close to her ear.
Guljana had been stripped naked and bound to a heavy beam of wood across
her shoulders so her arms were painfully outstretched.
The
scarred and burned face of the Afghan warlord continued to examine her. "Do my looks offend you, little
Jana? Well you may thank your Yankee
devil-masters for that." He moved
closer. "They think that I died in
the fire when our vehicles were attacked by their marines but I survived, Allah
be praised. You also survived. Badly wounded as I was, I watched them take
you away in the helicopter. Yet now
Allah has delivered you into my hands a second time. And I think I know why.” Sharazai cruelly smiled at the quivering girl
and raised his voice. "In His
infinite wisdom, the Most Merciful One wishes me to cleanse away all fleshly
temptations so your whore's tricks and vile heresies can no longer deceive the
faithful."
Guljana
whimpered through the knotted gag in her mouth.
Zia's
mother came over and kicked her bare leg.
"She is a witch, Sharazai, the daughter of a witch and a Soviet
devil, from a long line of witches. You
heard her grandfather confess before he died from your questioning. Her family secretly worshipped a heathen
Goddess and she is a priestess of Isis!
Allowing her to live is like cursing the Holy Prophet! Look at her - she is shamelessly adorned and
marked like a houri but she is unmarried.
Filthy WHORE!" She pulled a
savage knife from under her burqa.
"Let me kill her for you, Sharazai, to keep your hands pure of
Shaitan's blood!"
"You
will NOT, woman!" Sharazai sent her
sprawling with his fist. "It is the
law of Sharia that an adulteress and a heretic shall be flogged then stoned to
death but I will not permit it for this girl." Guljana sobbed in relief. A stoning was such a slow, cruel way to
die. He began to stroke her long, blonde
hair. "Gather wood. Set a stake in the courtyard. If she truly belongs to Shaitan then we shall
send her to the flames of hell through the cleansing fire, like that Yankee
pilot-whore they sent to spy on us!"
His captive shrieked in horror at the death sentence. Sharazai stroked her trembling cheek
"Heat the irons. We must make sure
she cannot breed more of Shaitan's legions to torment the faithful before she is
sent back to hell.
"But
first," he murmured so only Guljana could hear, "you will spend a
last few pleasant hours alone with me.
After all, we have so much to discuss, don't we, girl?"
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