The Cleopatra Plot 5

Posted by Barbanne on November 18, 1999 at 23:44:41:


I crashed to the floor, my shoulder skidding on rough boards and I felt skin getting scraped. I had a smelly, foul breathed, bearded and very strong man, pinning me down. His cannoning into me had shoved me down and forward and my wildly flailing legs collapsed the flimsy bed on which Sarita lay and it canted sideways and I found myself face to face with the dead girl, her vacant, filmy eyes only centimetres from my own. Another guy was in the room and he kicked the bed and it collapsed altogether and Sarita's corpse rolled up and away. I watched, as if in slow motion, as her breasts and the knife between them jiggled and flopped away out of my view. Then I was kicked hard and painful in my kidneys.
"Owooooch." I groaned.
"Fuckin' beetch."
And I copped another kick.
My assailant, the one lying on top of me, not the guy using me as a football, pulled my shift up and over my head and wrapped it tight round me and while keeping me pinned down, they tied my hands behind me, my ankles together, and my shift around my head as a blindfold. With most of my clothing above my shoulders I felt pretty naked and pretty damned stupid. I tried to speak but found I had a mouth full of my own shift. I was pleased to notice it smelt nice as I had perfumed myself that morning in hopes of a close encounter with Mo-Ooki.
My captors smelt like a dung heap. Foul breath and pheweeeeeeeee BO.
One of them hoicked me up and slung me over his shoulder and away we went, me showing my ass to the world again.
It wasn't funny.
I felt myself carried outdoors and then I was dumped into something that felt hard as hell and stank of farmyard stinks. Something wet and squishy was under my backside and I could feel the prickling torture of bits of hay or straw or such stabbing into my largely bare skin. Then I heard snnnrrrrrrrrrrggggggggg and cluck, cluck, cluck. A wet probing nose at my tits and scratchy little feet on my tummy told me I was in a cart full of pigs and chooks. And lying in pigshit if I wasn't mistaken. Yucko!
We bounced along for a while and then stopped and I was hauled out again and carried away. I would have said goodbye to my little farmyard friends if I could have spoken, but I could only say mmmmmfffff. I was dumped down again. Something softer but almost as bad smelling. Mind you my time in the pigshit had sort of destroyed my perfumed allure. My bonds were loosened and my shift was pulled off over my head.
I was on my back on a filthy bed in another hovel. my shift was lying discarded on the floor and I was naked once again except for the scrap of my panties.
A really nasty looking guy with two days growth and a wicked scar and broken teeth and bad halitosis was staring at me through glaucomic eyes and waving a small package wrapped in cloth and string at me.
"Thees ees mebbe wot you want?"
I smiled.
"Sarita she not want to geev it so we keel her." He grinned his broken toothed grin, "Now we keel you."
"That'd be a waste."
"You just another beech."
"No! I am queen of the soldiers whores. I could show you a lot of fun."
I could see he had already thought of that and he put the package and his knife (the same one that had been sticking out of Sarita) to one side and loosened his trousers. I gave the performance of my life. Being covered in pigshit and being fucked by this stinking Arab really tested my powers of seductive skill, but as he came he rolled his eyes up and briefly entered his heaven. My hand shot out and grabbed his knife and staaaaab! He entered heaven permanently. His face twisted in agony and his crooked teeth snarled in a rictus. Blood drooled down the front of me and he shuddered and flopped dead on top of my filthy body. I rolled him off, extracted the knife and went to the sackcloth screen that covered the doorway. I flipped the cloth back and forth and allowed my legs to be seen, one after the other, from outside.
"Next." I called, in a slightly breathless voice, and my dead friend's partner rushed in, eager and already tumescent. He saw his friend dead said "Whaaaaaaaaaa" and I stuck the knife through his throat. In a welter of blood he collapsed still enjoying his last erection.
I wiped some of the muck from my body, using the dead man's jellaba, slipped on my shift, collected the package and did a runner.

I found myself in a part of the town I didn't recognise. I wandered the streets and alleyways trying to orient myself, but was getting nowhere until, quite without warning, I found myself in the lane where Sarita's house was. I saw many Al Khartumian Royal Police Force men congregating around the house, stopping and questioning the passers by. I figured someone had found her body and decided I'd best be elsewhere. I knew my way back from here and ran all the way to where my friends had been staying, arriving just as they were disappearing down the road to the north of town. I galloped after them and soon caught up. I held the package out to Petra with triumph. She took it and tossed it into a covered, camel drawn cart in which our various belongings had been put.
"Took your time." She looked at me, "Cripes Barbanne you're a mess."
"I had to.............."
"We had to leave you know. I told the others you'd catch up."
"There were these..............."
"I said, that Barbanne, give her a little errand to run and she turns it into a production number."
"Sarita was.................."
"I'm sure she was honey. Hey you'd better clean up stink, and what is that? Is that blood. I don't know hon' you never do anything the easy way."
"Petra I nearly got ki......................."
"Thanks for the parcel Barbanne. Whew you stink. Mind dropping down wind."
We left Al Khartum. Filthy, bloody, still steeped in pigshit, I walked about a hundred metres behind the others. Any attempt I made to get closer was greeted with cries of "Stay back honey." and "Phew you stink." I gave up and trudged along head down, muttering to myself and slowly coming to the boil.
By day's end we came to an oasis well away from Al Khartum. I sat some distance from the others and drooped. Then it all squashed me and I cried.
"Barbanne my princess, why so sad?" It was Mo-Ooki. I looked up at him and tears rained down, carving channels in the filth that caked my face. "Boy you pong sweetheart." I howled like a tap on steroids.
He took me to a part of the oasis where the water was for bathing and I let him undress me and then he dunked me a couple of times and held me down while his long gentle fingers washed away the dirt and grime of my rotten day, until I was clean and pink and glowing. He stripped off his own robe and joined me in the water. I started to feel human again and then I started to feel randy and when his hands found my secrets under the water I purred as he stimulated my nipples and my pussy. I looked up. The others were busy with the evening meal preparations and I grabbed Mo-Ooki's hand and ducked behind some date palms and pulled him onto, no into me, like a well worn glove. Sex was the answer to all my problems and I rode Mo-Ooki to fulfilment. I'm not sure if he'd had that in mind but he caught on quick and did his part nobly.
I washed my clothes and wrung them dry. It was a warm, scented evening and I put them on and decided to let them thoroughly dry while on me. They were damp and clingy and the coolness caused by evaporation stimulated my already aroused body and I walked back to join the others with my shift moulded to me and revealing excited nipples and a swollen mons. The others looked at me and then at Mo-Ooki and Petra smiled and said "Mo-Ooki you have a remarkable effect on our dear Barbanne." She looked at me and said "Honey, you never did say what held you up this morning."
"Nuthin'" I said and sat down to my evening meal next to Vickina and Mo-Ooki.
The meal was simple but nourishing and our Nubian cooks were wizards and I felt tired and quite looking forward to this trip into the unknown. But for now I needed my sleep.
"Mo-Ooki, take me to bed." I stood and yawned.
Some of the others grinned but I felt too tired to engage in banter.
"Night guys."
I wandered over to the cart and got my blankets and spread them on the sand. Mo-Ooki got his and spread them nearby. I stretched and yawned again and looked over to where the others were talking around the fire. No-one seemed all that interested and so I slipped off my shift which was now completely dry and hung it over a bush. I flopped on my tummy and my head drooped. Mo-Ooki's strong, slender, gentle fingers dug into my back and began massaging my ripples and creases, easing knotted muscles and spreading erotic warmth throughout my poor old worn out body. I thought I dozed and my mind dipped and swooped like a tiny boat on the face of the ocean. I saw strange sights and weird patterns and colours and I felt mesmerised and I saw Mo-Ooki's face and knew I loved him but that love was not an option for a whore and I would have to make do with lust. I felt enormously relaxed and then I felt dizzy and suddenly I wasn't floating but sinking down and down, drowning! Alone, helpless, lost!
My eyelids dragged open and I peered out from under half lowered lashes and Mo-Ooki was there and I was on my back and he was millimetres away and his lips met mine and I could feel his hard, solid maleness inside me and I was tight and hot down there and hugely aroused and then he was spent inside me and I was spent up in full and it was all I could do to whisper, "Mo-Ooki, I know your are a magician, my magician." I raised heavy eyes and looked at him and his secret smile told me I had guessed the truth. And then I was unconscious.

I woke full of energy and life the next morning and what a glorious morning it was. Cold, clear and still dark. The sun was yet to make its way across the desert waste. The camp was still slumbering and I looked over to where Mo-Ooki slept. My heart flipped a little and I hopped up from my bed and went down to the oasis. I bathed and abluted and the air warmed to its usual perfumed warmth. A warmth that chased away night chills and curled seductively around my naked flesh. I squatted looking dreamily into the desert and fantasising about how a girl might rise from being the despised harlot whom all used, to the faithful soul mate of a man who loved her. I dreamed of being Mo-Ooki's woman. His cook and washer lady and his companion and, yes, his harlot in his bed and his alone.
But I didn't want to lose the dream. I hummed softly and let the dream persist.
A hand brushed stray wisps of my hair back behind my ear and a voice, a loved voice, warm and filled with seduction said, "Dreaming little girl?"
I turned, closing my eyes and offering my mouth up to be kissed.
Mo- Ooki kissed me softly and then harder and then forceful and demanding. I yielded utterly. He stood me and, encircling my nudity, he pressed me to him.
"Mo-Ooki, I am bewitched. I know it, I feel it. Tell me you are a magician and I am captured under your spell."
He laughed.
"Me a magician? Who knows? But what I feel for you, what you tell me you feel for me, oh yes, that is magic. But not, my darling, magic made by me. This magic you alone have created."
I laughed from the utmost joyousness.
"Oh Mo-Ooki."
"Come. The day awaits."
I took his hands and pulled back and gazed from beneath lowered lashes.
"Have we not time for you to show me again what a fearsomely good swordsman you are my beloved?"
He slapped my bum. "No. Now come along................witch."
I pouted sulkily but dressed and followed him. The camp was stirring and cooking fires were smoking. I could see others heading for the wash pool and making their sleepy way around the business of dawn. I saw......................
"Mo-Ooki what is that?"
"What beloved?"
He followed my pointing finger. Rising from the haze of the morning mirage were figures. Men. Dressed in the robes of the desert. They were all around us and they were armed and they were not friendly.