Chapter 9

The clients were accommodated in quarters on the outside of the compound, and as they started to move from the hall, the four white women were taken back to the dressing room.

There, they found Lala and the few other girls who had not been sold waiting with two more guards. They were given a cloth dampened with something to remove the red lacquer from their nipples, then their shackles were unlocked.

As they took deep, relieved breaths after the removal of the tight steel belts, one of the guards spotted the large tear in the seat of Margaret's pantaloons.

"How did that happen?"

Margaret explained, though she knew the guards had been watching what was going on the whole time.

"You know you could be punished for that, don't you, white woman?" The negress loved using the expression "white woman" as though it were a swear word.

For an unfortunate moment, Margaret forgot herself. "Heck! Don't tell me you're going to use that as an excuse-you saw the whole darn thing!"

The guard's eyes gleamed. "But I am! In any caseI don't need an excuse to punish you." She grabbed Margaret and bent her over across the trestle table. Maggie tried to struggle away, but the other guard pressed down on her shoulders.

Then the cane came into play. Margaret was given four sharp, rapid strokes across her round white bottom. She jerked as each one hit her, but took them in complete silence.

They released her and she straightened, four pink lines spanning the white e;ip.uise of soft flesh. They had not been as severe as the ones given to Cynthia and Moolah that morning, but as she turned towards Sylvia and Julia her face was red and her lips trembled.

She suddenly gave a little sob and pressed herself tightly against the naked red-head, burying her face in the hollow of her shoulder.

"Ssssh, sweetie-it's all right, now. Don't cry." Sylvia hugged her close, suddenly realizing that Margaret had never been caned or thrashed before in her whole life.

Julia stroked the quivering back. "It's over, dear," she whispered. "And Julia will give you a good swig of that gin of hers-won't you, Sylvie?"

"You bet I will!"

"Sorry-I-I've never had it done to me before." She gave them a tremulous smile. "I'm not a baby, reallyit was the embarrassmnet with all those others looking on more that the hurt." She stepped out of the filmy pants, folded them as Sylvia and Julia did, and put them back in the cardboard box.

The guards were just lining them up to take them back to the huts when Hakim came in with Carter. They went straight over to Cynthia, both of them smiling.

"Ah, Mrs. Briggs." He gave her a long, appraising look. "Good-quite naked, I see."

"Mr. Carter and I have come to an amicable arrangement about you. He was so eager to examine what he has bought, he couldn't wait until morning. Carry on, Mr. Carter-she's all yours, heh-heh!"

Cynthia's mouth tightened, but she stood quietly, knowing the consequences if she didn't, while she was subjected to a thorough inspection. The man felt at her all over, her breasts, her thighs, between them-even making her sit on the table with her legs open while he felt and peered at her sex. He made her lie back while he called a guard over, wanting to humiliate Cynthia as much as possible.

"I want you to open the lips of her sex..."

"Don't mind the guard, my friend," grinned Hakim. "She knows what it's all about-you mean Mrs. Briggs' cunt, don't you?"

The man smiled as he watched the guard pull Cynthia's legs open and draw the delicate pink lips of the woman's vulva apart, making her squirm with pain and embarrassment as her fingers tightened, pinching the tender flesh.

"Well, a cunt by any other name would still smell as sexy!" he murmured, smffing. "Turn her over."

Cynhtia allowed the guard to turn her over without protest, though she squirmed inwardly.

"Ah-I see she has been caned recently. Not very severely, though, eh? We'll alter that-when I cane a woman it is always severe, otherwise -what's the point in caning her?"

Cynthia's buttocks were hauled apart and a finger urgently into her anus. It hurt her, but she stifled her groan and lay still until the inspection was over.

"Fine, Hakim-it's a deal. Perhaps you'll have her brought to my quarters tonight?" He looked at Cynthia as she stood docilely in front of him. "Perhaps you could have a cane sent over as well, eh?"

"Anything you like-a whip, if you prefer."

"A cane will do admirably-the whip will come later. I want her warmed but travel-worthy tomorrow!"

Then he noticed one of the guard's malacca canes, and borrowed it to examine, nodding approvingly.

"Effective. Let me try it out. Turn round, Cynthia."

Fear, shame and excitement chased each other in her mind as she turned and bent forward a little, resting her hands on her knees.

"No, not that way. I want your buttocks relaxed for this. Stand up straight that's right. Now raise your arms above your head. Hold it there."

Cynthia Briggs stood with raised arms and closed her eyes, large breasts taut. The malacca tore into the soft, relaxed flesh, leaving a blood-speckled weal across the snow white skin. She staggered but kept herself erect.

Margaret bit her lips and turned her head away as a second stroke cut into Cynthia's bottom, this one forcing a cry of pain.

A third stroke belted into the trembling buttocks and brought a full-blooded yelp. Her arms dropped, her hands going round to try to ease the scalding weals.

Carter, a slim, bronzed man in his mid-forties, grinned humourless as he tossed the cane back to the guard.

"Yes-a most effective instrument. I should like to borrow one tonight." "You shall have it," promised Hakim. "I shall give you a couple to take back with you."

The two men went out, leaving Cynthia standing with bent head, her hands gingerly touching her aching bottom, amongst the other silent women, most of whom had been her prisoners back on the Island.

Presently, an Arab in the green batle dress worn by all Hakim's gang, came in and took her away. Once again, the rest of the women were lined up and taken back to their huts.