Her elbows had also been untied, though her wrists were still bound together behind her back. The rope around her neck still bound her to the platform’s wooden frame. Her body ached each time she moved. Worse, her ass hole was throbbing, a dull empty ache that brought back unbidden memories of what the Arab had done to her last night.
She shuddered at the memory of the anal gang rape he had put her through.
As if on cue, the Arab entered the room, a large water bottle and a piece of the local flat bread held in his hands. Cathy shrank back from him as he approached her, but, tied as she was, there was no escaping him. He put the water bottle and the bread down beside her and took out his knife.
Rather than slash her rope as he had done last night- Cathy thought it was just last night, though it seemed an eternity ago- he used its tip to pry apart the knot and untie the rope binding her wrists. The rope around her neck remained, but he did untie the end securing her to the platform frame. The rope around her ankles received the same treatment, leaving Cathy unbound for the first time since her rape.
When he stepped back, knife still in hand, Cathy slowly stood, rubbing the rope burns on her wrists as she tried work the stiffness out of her body. Her arms and legs felt as if red hot pins were piercing them as circulation, and with it sensation, returned to the nerve endings. As her body slowly began to function again, the thought of escape, of attacking the dark man and bolting, ran through her mind until the sounds outside the doorway reminded her of the men between her and freedom.
It also reminded Cathy of her nudity. Instinctively, she tried to shield herself with her arms, much to the amusement of the Arab. Seeing his smile and realizing the futility of her gesture, Cathy lowered her arms and stood there in front of him, body proudly displayed, glaring but silent. She half expected him to rape her again, but the tall man only gestured at the food and water. Hungrily, Cathy attacked the dry bread, washing it down with huge gulps from the earthenware water bottle.
He let her eat all of the bread before he spoke.
” Relieve yourself there , in that corner. Quickly!”
Only half believing that the Arab mean what he had said, but very aware of the pressure building up in her bowels and urethra, Cathy awkwardly staggered the few steps to the small hole cut into the rock floor at the corner. Painfully aware of the man’s eyes watching her, Cathy squatted over it and relieved herself.
Once finished, she stood awkwardly and waited.
Tossing Cathy the ruined bra he had cut off her last night and a small yellow bar of soap, the Arab ordered:
” Clean herself up, slave. You look disgusting.”
Cathy’s face reddened as he spoke. She knew she looked disgusting. She could feel the dried cum covering her skin on the insides of her thighs, her cunt, and her ass cheeks.
Trying to preserve some dignity even now, Cathy turned her back on the Arab and slowly, thoroughly washed herself. She scrubbed her shaven private parts raw trying to get the feel and the smell of the men’s cum off her. Then she did the same to her breasts and abdomen. Driven by her revulsion at her rape, Cathy scrubbed and scrubbed at her skin, determined to wash away at least the physical traces of her rape and sodomy even if she knew she could never wash them out of her mind.
Compulsively, she scrubbed herself again and again until the Arab tired of her efforts. He threw her boots, her flight suit, and her flight jacket at her feet and growled:
” Enough, slave! Put these on. They will do until I can get you a proper garment for a woman, a burkha.”
Eagerly Cathy picked up the clothes thrown at her feet. She virtually threw on the baggy green flight suit in her eagerness to cover herself.
As she bent to put on her boots, she carefully asked in a low voice,
” What about my long underwear. It is so cold here. …” Seeing his face darken, Cathy belatedly added “Master” to her words.
” Enough. A woman does not question a man nor a slave her Master.”
For a moment, Cathy was tempted to revisit her argument that she was not a slave, but a prisoner of war. But she realized that there was no profit and some danger in it.
Instead, she bit her tongue and remained silent, hoping she could reason with her captor if she just didn’t anger him. She completed dressing in silence, putting on her boots, and then the flight jacket over her flight suit. It felt so good to Cathy to have clothes on again.
“Turn around, slave, and put your hands behind your back”
Cathy’s strong body stiffened as she heard that, muscles tensing. She had only a split second to decide whether she would fight or submit.
Once again, her reason told her to submit, that there was no sense fighting until she could see an opportunity to escape. Exhaling loudly, she turned her back to him and meekly crossed her wrists behind her strong back.
If Cathy had seen the wolfish smile that crossed the Arab’s face when she did that, she would have known that she had made the wrong decision. Once she turned and offered him her wrists, the Arab moved quickly to tie her wrists together behind her broad back.
Then he pushed her face down on the platform, crossed her ankles, and tied her booted feet together. When he had finished tying her feet together, the Arab took the running end of the rope which encircled Cathy’s neck and pulled it taunt. He bent Cathy’s legs back and tied the running end of the rope encircling her neck to Cathy’s booted feet, painfully bending the muscular young woman into the shape of a bow, feet and back forced towards each other until they almost touched.
When he released her, Kathy found she had to further arch her back just to keep from choking herself to death. He stepped back to admire his work, leaving Cathy hog-tied on her stomach on the sleeping platform, her body painfully bent backwards until her short blonde hair was no more than eighteen inches from the soles of her boots. He watched as Cathy fought against the ropes, enjoying the sight of powerful arm and back muscles moving under her smooth skin as she struggled.
He waited patiently for Cathy to realize that not only could she not escape the ropes holding her, but that she had to use all her strength simply to keep her legs form relaxing and slowly choking her to death. That reality quickly came home to Cathy as the rope tied to her booted feet tightened around her neck. All she could do then was to struggle to keep still despite the unnatural position in which he had bound her.
Once the Arab was satisfied that the blonde had enough sense- and self discipline- not to strangle herself, he left her alone in the small room, taking the room’s only source of light, the electric lantern, with him, leaving Cathy hog tied and alone in the silent darkness.
After only a few moments, Cathy began to feel the strain of maintaining her bowed position. As time dragged on in the dark, the strain on her muscles grew.
Her legs began to tire first, the task of keeping her feet in their heavy combat boots stretched forward to relieve the pressure on the rope around her neck growing more difficult with each moment. Her legs- strong though they were- began to cramp, then to shake from the strain. Her back began to ache as well, as did her neck as a result of its extended position.