Author's Note: I'd like to apologize to all of the diligent fans of my stories who have read, enjoyed, and written to me. It's been way too long since my last post and though I regret the long delay, it was inevitable. Life has a way of doing that to you sometimes. However, here is a short story for your enjoyment (I hope), which is my way of getting the kinks (no pun intended...really...) out of my cobwebbed writing skills. Thanks again to all of you who sent feedback and commented on my stories, I am truly humbled. Every time I read them, they make me smile anew.
One last thing, this story is a bit more edgy than my usual stuff, but I hope you like it nonetheless.
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"I told you to shut up!" the kaffiyeh*-wearing man yelled in a thick, accented voice, at the tied up blonde woman. When she continued to struggle and mutter as loudly as she could through the piece of cloth pushed roughly into her mouth, the man pulled his hand back and slapped her hard across the cheek. The woman stumbled and fell to her knees, her eyes watering in a mixture of pain, humiliation and simmering anger.
Another man who was walking alongside the two turned around sharply at the sound of flesh hitting flesh. He grabbed the hitter by the arm and punched him in the face, throwing him off balance, landing him on his back next to the kneeling girl. He spoke harshly then, in a language unrecognizable to the young blonde's years, but she could assume that it was a form, a dialect of Arabic. He was gesturing wildly with his arms, looking almost mad in his sudden rage. They waited until the man got up from the ground and dusted himself off indignantly. She then felt a strong hand clasp her arm in a vice-like grip, pulling her back to her feet. A strong shove later, she was told to keep moving.
The sun was scorching. The desert sand looked almost surreal. It was so white and pure, and blinding in its intense simplicity. The three had been walking for the better part of an hour. The girl wasn't used to such weather and she could feel its strains all over her aching body. The drugs they had given her left a lingering sensation of fatigue, but their general effect had mostly dissipated. She was hungry and thirsty, her eyes hurt as they looked at the endless scenery. She was hurting and wanted nothing more than to get back home. She had been stupid, did everything the wrong way, and this was where it had gotten her. One tiny mistake, a false promise of pleasure and recreation, a seemingly kind face, and they got her. It was that easy. No one knew where she was, no one would ever be able to find her. She was lost.
Without even realizing, they finally reached what looked like a set-up camp in the middle of nowhere. It looked lavish enough considering the conditions and even though she was more than afraid to discover what lay beyond all those tent flaps, a small part of her was actually relieved to be out of the sun. The tents were all arranged in a circle, around an extinguished campfire. To the south of camp, near the point where they had entered, stood the largest tent. The two men pushed the flaps open and led her inside. The silence of the sprawling wasteland of the outside belied the raucous that existed within. Men were laughing, drinking, talking -- much like any ordinary bar in any civilized setting. There were a few women, the blonde noted, but they seemed to be either in charge of the service or of the entertainment. They were being pushed around and used by the men like they were property. And to her horror, the blonde suddenly realized that that was exactly the case -- they were all property. Bought and sold. She could vaguely remember being bid on like a prime piece of meat.
They didn't linger in that tent for long. The two men grabbed her arms and led her out of the back. She was shoved into a slightly smaller tent at the back of camp and pushed to the floor on the other side of the entrance. She looked around. The 'room', if one could call it that, was sparsely decorated, but quite tastefully, she had to admit. There was a huge Persian rug covering almost the entire middle of the tent. To the left stood a wooden, carved cabinet that somehow seemed to fit the ambiance, and to the right, was a bed. Or something that resembled a bed. There was no mattress and no wooden frame, but it looked comfortable enough; A dozen or so silky looking blankets piled up one on top of the other and a few throw pillows littering the top.
She gasped when she felt hands grabbing her shoulders from behind and started to struggle when those hands used some kind of dark scarf to blindfold her eyes. The hands did not cease from their task. They continued to tie the blindfold calmly, while another hand held a very sharp blade to her throat. When her eyes were rendered completely useless, her captor moved to her hands, retying the knot to make it sturdier. She was then pushed to her knees and told not to move from her position. Using her other senses to compensate for her lack of sight, she could hear the two men whispering to each other. Soon, she realized, they started to argue. The whispers became more heated and her heartbeat started picking up its pace when she felt a presence drawing near. Her breathing grew labored as she swallowed thickly. Just when she could almost feel the hand reaching over to her, a strong voice put a stop to it. The man who had drawn near pulled away and went to join his companion, she assumed. Her breathing and heart slowly returned to their normal pace.
A few more words were exchanged, some sounded harsh to her untrained ears, and then there was silence. She thought she had been left alone. The silence was deafening. All she could hear was the sound of her own breathing. Her lips and mouth were parched and she craved a drop of water. When her tongue tried to moisten her lips, she felt the sting of parched skin as she tasted the faint tang of blood.
"Hello? Is anybody there?" She asked, her voice trembling.
"Can I please have some water?" She tried again.
A gasp stole her breath when her chin was suddenly touched. A finger slowly trailed up to her lips, circled her mouth, caressed her cheek and then made its way down her throat. It stopped right at her cleavage. She was still wearing her own clothes, but they had seen better days. Her shirt was ripped in so many places, it didn't really provide any cover and her jeans were dirty and torn. Her usually milky white skin was chafed and dry, and in many places, sunburned.
Without realizing, she held her breath, unnecessarily closing her eyes as tightly as possible. A soft whisper breezing its way into her ear made her open her eyes, "Don't hold your breath..."
The voice was somehow, comforting. She was scared out of her mind -- alone, among strangers, who didn't seem to want what was best for her. Nonetheless, that voice, as eerie as it seemed, made her shoulders relax a bit.
Her arm was grabbed by a soft one. The softness, however, did not belie the strength that lay behind. She somehow knew that whoever this person was, they could probably kill her without blinking an eye, or breaking out a sweat. She was slowly brought to her feet. While her sight was impaired, her other senses seemed to make up for the loss. She could feel this person circling her, checking her out, studying her from all angles. Then, they finally came to a stop in front of her.
"What is your name?"
The blonde swallowed. She didn't know if she should provide her name. Then it struck her; it didn't matter. They had her and no one could save her anymore. What did her name matter?
"Sarah," she said softly. It hurt for her to speak, her throat so parched.
Her captor seemed to move away, only to return to her side a few moments later. Her hand was pulled up and she was given a goblet. "Here, drink."
Still cautious, Sarah took the goblet and raised it slowly to her mouth. She wasn't sure what she was afraid of. Her life was already forfeit, it would actually be a blessing to be poisoned. But she guessed it was pure instinct that had made her think twice. Placing the metal cup against her lips, she drank in big gulps. She felt the goblet taken from her hand and her grip tightened. She whimpered in her throat, trying to tell them she was still thirsty. She felt like crying again.
"Hey, hey...I'm not going to take it away. Just don't drink so fast. You'll only make yourself nauseous," the voice said. They were being kind. She couldn't understand what was happening.
Her drinking slowed until she finally had her fill. Lowering the goblet, it was rapidly taken from her hand. She thought she could sense another presence in the tent.
