Hamid and Jessica

On the other side of the wall was a little alleyway. Like many walls that faced narrow alleyways in Karachi, they were convenient places where men relieved their bladders. During the hottest time of the day, the stench overpowered the room. A little vent high up on that wall allowed the stench to seep in unabated. Jessica, blond, blue-eyed, a cheerleader and an all American girl, had been stuck in that room for three weeks. She had made two big mistakes in her life. One was marrying Hamid, a flawlessly handsome exchange student from Pakistan and the other was joining her husband for a supposedly two month trip to his homeland.

Naheed, the maid in charge of the household entered the room. The stench was noxious to her as well but she acted like the room permeated with fresh mountain air. As she did for the past three weeks, Naheed gestured Jessica to remove her clothes for her daily bath. The twenty-six years old woman born and raised in Missouri, hastily complied knowing well that if she took too long, Naheed would not return. With an arm across her chest and her hand covering her scantily grown blond pubic mound, she followed in step behind Naheed through the narrow passageways of the house. Jessica knew eventually that she would be caught in this state by someone from her husband's extended family. She was relieved to make it today to the outhouse style plank walled bathroom. Naheed made her wait for half an hour while she prepared hot water in steaming metal buckets.

As she waited Jessica noticed shadows that appeared through the gaps between the rotting planks. She was certain that she was being watched. When Naheed finally prepared everything, she lathered the hardened sandalwood soap in her hands and rubbed it first on Jessica's back. She threw more scalding water on Jessica's back as the American sat on a foul smelling low wooden stool. Naheed rubbed Jessica's underarm vigorously with the soap. As was the case every day, the Pakistani maid who had come from a northern village took her time with the American's perky pear shaped breasts. Her thumbs relentlessly rubbed and tickled the hardened pink nipples waiting for the blond to succumb to her touch. It was only time she knew that she would have the blonds' tongue on her swollen clitoris while she tasted the American's juice through those inviting pink labia. "Foolishness," she thought to herself. Why resist the inevitable.

The other part naturally that she concentrated on was the flesh between Hamid's bride's long shapely legs. While relishing the naked alabaster flesh, her soapy hand spent considerable time tweaking the poor woman's clitoris. However hard Jessica tried to conceal the eventual rupturing of her body, Naheed knew she had succeeded once again. After that, Jessica seemed compliant and walked back clean and satisfied to her room.

Hamid's father had fallen into dire straits and had become indebted to another large industrialist family entity. Hamid could only cover a miniscule portion of the debt with the money he brought but it was enough to give them a few weeks reprieve and figure out other propositions. Hamid was undertaking the difficult task to convince his uncle to forego the common farmland they owned in order to mitigate the ensuing matter. As was customary, the men of the industrialist family group had forcibly taken Hamid's mother and his brother's wife away. Hamid had learned that these men had shown no mercy even after his father and his brother had sobbingly placed their heads onto their feet.

Mustaffar Khaleed's face was pockmarked from a terrible case of acne he had as a teenager. His eyes were narrow and deep and he sported a bushy mustache. It was very auspicious that Naheed had come to visit him a week ago. She had told him the news of Hamid's blond American wife who had been kept in hiding by Ahmed and his two sons, Hamid and Murad. For the information, Naheed had pocketed an amount equivalent to six months pay as a maid. She smiled to reveal her uneven teeth. Naheed who was clever and wicked as Mustaffar Khaleed made another request. "Would you kindly allow me to visit with my master's women," she spoke in the polite manner of one requesting a special favor.

Mustaffar was taken aback by the boldness of this low statured woman and in normal circumstances he would have had her beaten to death for such audaciousness. He pondered and eventually said in an intimidating tone, "those you speak off, they are kept unclothed to provide the services of slave whores."

"That is fine. I prefer to see them that way," Naheed spoke. "I would wish privacy with them for an hour. That is my humble request," she continued her head bowed in respect.

"Absolutely not!" Mustaffar's large voice echoed in the room. "Whatever you have to say or do with these slaves, you will do here."

Naheed's voice faltered but with foolhardy courage she spoke the unspeakable. A woman requesting womanly pleasure was deemed heretical and deserved a punishment greater than death. Yet she spoke, "I wish to partake in my mistresses' humiliation, something that may offend your honor." Her words chosen well managed a reprieve from any hasty dictates.

"Well, well for humiliation's sake, I shall witness," Mustaffar's voice sounded magnanimous.

With utter delight Naheed witnessed those she served for twenty years enter the room broken and shamed. Hamid's mother wailed in dishonor upon witnessing her maid. The daughter in law stood stoically, her body still radiantly beautiful amid the ravaging she had gone through. Naheed delightfully barked at them and ordered the bitches to come to her. Hamid's mother, with deeply sagging breasts, wailed again as she complied with the orders. The maid removed her dusty Salwar and lifted her Kameez to expose her bushy cunt. The orders were clear and precise and Mustaffar delighted to watch his slaves slurp the juices of their former maid. Naheed displayed her fury if they relented in their task and for an hour and a half; she took great pleasure from their caressing tongues.

Upon Naheed's departure, the effect of the scene played in front of Mustaffar had not been lost. Although he did mount the mother on the first night of their enslavement for the sake of humiliation and victory, he avoided any further physical contact with her. Rather he let his younger cousins abuse the old hag's body. As always he focused on Mahiya, Hamid's sister in law. Swiftly he discarded his clothes and had Mahiya bend forward. His flesh quickly sought Mahiya's perpetually moist hole and he penetrated her from behind. His rhythmic pounding only grew stronger with the musical-like wailing tone of the mother watching the debasement. He grunted with deep satisfaction as his seed jolted inside the beautiful wife of Murad.

Hamid found it irritating that his family's car's engine kept stalling and had to be restarted during the more than an hour long trip to his uncle's modest home. The driver, Habib, had been in the employ of Hamid's family since before he had been born. Habib didn't seem bothered by the constant engine trouble. He patiently restarted the engine amidst the incessant honking of the short tempered motorists all around. The once new green Chery QQ, a Chinese made mini-car, now seemed run down. He wasn't looking forward to the difficult task of getting the family's ancestral land released in order to save his family. His father had already warned that the task would be impossible. The air-conditioning which had long since been on the brink frustrated Hamid and he was thankful to have reached his destination.

His uncle's domicile hadn't changed much over the last 28 years. Hamid remembered those infrequent but painful trips forced upon by his mother to visit uncle Feroz's home. The house was devoid of any comfort or amenities. His uncle lived austerely probably as a form of self-punishment for the early demise of his wife. During those visits, Hamid was forced to play with his brain damaged cousin Imran, a task he found difficult and humiliating.

The niceties were clearly insincere. His uncle, Feroz, detested his brother and his brother's family ever since they grew successful while he was trapped with a retarded son, his one and only. Hamid's aunt had died while giving birth to Imran. Now his uncle, aged but surprisingly vigorous, brought some water in a steel cup to Hamid. Across the hall, Hamid could hear Imran's gibberish talk that his uncle had probably no longer noticed. "Khaleed-sahib had already asked for the land and I have politely refused him," Feroz informed Hamid knowing well the reason for his nephew's visit. Hamid winced at his uncle's respectful addressing of the evil man who had turned his mother and sister in law into whores.

"It is fair and righteous to divide the land in half according to the laws," Hamid reasoned.

"Ancestral land belonging to our fore-fathers does not get parceled out or unnecessarily handed out to pay for debts. My brother had been careless and he must not barter out our heritage for such trivial matters," Hamid's uncle spoke in a righteous tone that men in this part of the world use when they didn't want to listen to reason. With a sparkle in his eyes, Feroz's tone turned to guarded amusement. "Khaleed-sahib graciously invited me over many days ago. He brought his driver and car to pick me up. He was upset at your father for not taking care of this matter. Khaleed-sahib brought your poor mother in for me to see. It was such a pity to see her naked and humiliated. He even offered her for my pleasure but it would be sinful for me to accept. It was a delicate matter, to refuse without offending him."

The blood had drained from Hamid's face. "Have mercy," he uttered.

"Since the offer was made, the act had to be carried out," his uncle continued with obvious enjoyment. "He summoned his butcher, a man of such low caste, to take on your mother. The man was thankful for the gift and in front of us removed his bloodied apron and bent your mother forward. He was forceful and finished his job quite soon. After that the poor butcher thanked us all."

Knowing well that the humiliation had to be endured, Hamid sat and respectfully listened to his uncle. He still hoped for decency and grace from his father's brother. His choices were few.

"Khaleed-sahib himself acknowledged that ancestral land should not be diverted for such reasons and he said that those responsible for the debts must come up with a solution," Feroz detailed.

To iterate the obvious, Hamid pleaded, "Help us. You are the head of our family name. That is why I have come here today." He stood up and continued, "You are experienced in these matters. You will have a solution for us."

The old man sat quietly for awhile as if pondering some great and noble thought. Hamid sat down again, defeat clearly outlined in his demeanor. When he finally spoke, Hamid was willing to listen to anything. "Since I had refused the flesh of my brother's wife, Khaleed-sahib was kind enough to offer me her daughter in law. Mahiya is as beautiful as an angel and it was not my place to dishonor such a gift. He gave me a little room with a bed and she was brought in naked, a vision of beauty. I could not control myself and consumed her body. For that I was thankful and eternally grateful for his magnanimous gesture."

Hamid watched his uncle relive the moment of conquest. Hamid felt that Mustaffar Khaleed had successfully turned his uncle over to his camp. Even Hamid knew that the vision of his naked sister in law could melt a stone.

"Khaleed-sahib mentioned about your fair American wife. She is here isn't she?" Feroz drilled his nephew.

Feroz's mentioning of Jessica immediately panicked Hamid. Hamid figured something nefarious had already been planned by the vicious Mustaffar Khaleed and his diabolic uncle. His wanted to instantly return back and take Jessica out of this country. Hoping that he didn't show any obvious emotions, Hamid kept still veiling his fears. He sat as calmly as he could and waited to finish his visit.

"You asked for a solution. Khaleed-sahib had shown keen interest in your American wife. He heard of her beauty, her skin as pale as the marble and onyx from Ziarat," Hamid's uncle spoke. The old man's eyes sparkled and his lips pursed. Outside the sounds of the three-wheelers made their occasional rattling reverberations that broke the otherwise quiet day.

The sunlight piercing through the grimy window had crawled onto Hamid's face. He shifted himself on the uncomfortable chair.

"I pleaded with Khaleed-sahib to spare all your lives and in return I promised him your wife in exchange. He was reluctant obviously. However an American woman would bring a tidy sum but not as much as the debt. He has found a buyer to make the trade," Feroz explained to his nephew. Although practiced extensively over a thousand years and ingrained in the societies of this area, the sex slave trade today is not as evident in plain sight as it was just a hundred years ago. Brought up in this society, Hamid knew of their history and how it was just and their right to enslave infidels. In past conquests, the victorious Mughals had always ruthlessly tortured and killed the non-believers. The men were rounded up and killed in the most uncivilized manner and the women and children were taken to become slaves. Today this trade was based more as an exchange of commodity, for barter or money. Being on the other side of the equation, Hamid knew this was wrong and unjust.

"Make your decision fast," warned his uncle. "Khaleed-sahib is losing his patience. He is not required to show any mercy for his just actions." With that said, Feroz indicated that Hamid should leave.

Hamid found the driver Habib in front of the brick wall that fenced in the grubby yard of his uncle's home. The driver's weather beaten face intently studied the car's engine somehow willing a panacea-like solution to the neglected vehicle. Hamid sat inside the hot car and closed the door. Habib put the hood down with deliberation. After several unsuccessful starts, the car gave a monstrous shake and coughed itself back to running.

Feroz felt exhilaration and a spring in his loins. Since the early demise of his young wife, he had been in the throes of depression and depravation. In the last dozen years he had used the services of a prostitute only a handful of times and not once in the last five years. This self inflicted life of austerity was one that Feroz accepted. Today however he marched out of his ramshackle home in his stained white cotton woven kurta with matching baggy pajamas. He watched his brother's car sputtering on at the end of the lane. He did not even put back the vase, chairs and flower pot he had brought out for his nephew's visit. It was not a short walk, but he knew exactly the way. He wondered if that lady with her mentally incapable daughter were still in business. It was a pity that the daughter had such a pretty face and could do nothing better than have her body used. However such thoughts were fleeting and not essential in Feroz's mind today. Today he felt celebratory.

Feroz remembered the mother but she now looked aged. The large mole on the tip of her nose was a tell tale sign that he reached the right place, a decrepit shop selling cooking utensils with a little room in the back. Upstairs was where the mother and daughter lived. She flashed an instant smile at her client. The mother could not remember having two customers at this time of the day. She apologetically said, "Please wait for ten minutes, sahib. My daughter is busy right now." She then hurried to the back and opened the door slightly to watch the progress of a client with her daughter. Seeing that he was still in the throes of unabated sex, she figured he would be done pretty soon.

The wait did not bother Hamid's uncle. Normally such irritants would have caused some upheaval. He picked up a wooden ladle and patiently tapped it onto a large stone mortar. He walked up and down a narrow aisle and tapped through all the utensils. He stopped only at the gruff sound of a man from the back of the store. Some words were exchanged with the mother and he hurried out the store. The mother gestured to Feroz that the wait would not be long. She then barked at her daughter to quickly clean herself up. The tap was turned on and splashing could be heard. The mother busied herself in the room fixing up the bed. When she appeared, she gruffly demanded a thousand rupees. Feroz remembered giving five hundred rupees when he had last visited this place and he calmly countered with 800 rupees, an amount just over ten dollars.

The mother quickly agreed and swept the curtain behind the door to lead the old man in. As Feroz walked in, the door behind him was shut. After adjusting to the dark room, he noticed the daughter. He guessed that she was in her mid-thirties now. She wore a faded floral printed cotton gown that went to her ankles and her head was down swaying to some tune in her head. He lifted her face up and was glad that she still possessed an unflawed complexion with round brown eyes, full lips and a sharp nose. He hurriedly undressed plainly aroused. She seemed not to notice the naked aged man and kept rocking side to side. Impatiently he pulled up her gown and she stood up to not impede his progress. Relishing at the sight of naked flesh, he got her on the bed and planted kisses on her face. Quickly he managed to squirm his way into position and impaled himself in her. He was out of the cooking utensil store within twenty minutes.