Extreme Pleasures Ch. 02

"You has been saved to serve the army. You is dead meat living cos you is sentenced to hang and maybe you go back dere any time but as long as you does good for my customers we let you live. Dey will like white pussy; we gonna get many custom."

The mock hanging had been staged as entertainment for the blood crazed crowd. Although the death sentence was real it had been suspended so that the prisoner could be used as fodder for the Military Comfort Regiment. The £100,000 per year banker had become a whore for the soldiers of Umbongo and her life would be temporarily spared for as long as Master Sergeant Ufani was satisfied with the service which was given to her customers.

Life as a whore did bring some compensations. Tara was allowed to bathe and to use perfume and cosmetics and she ate real meals which were brought to her room. She was also permitted some clothing so that she could look good for her customers although her clothing never seemed to remain in place for very long. Over time her shaven hair was allowed to grow and it was trimmed so that it lost the ragged appearance which it had after her shearing at Matingi. However all these privileges came at a price. The girls never left their locked rooms and had to be available at all times for the use of the soldiers whose every demand had to be met in full or the scaffold in the city square would claim another victim.

Tara was not in an officer's house so her clients were rough enlisted men usually from the hardest parts of the city or from rural areas where etiquette was not high on the agenda. The evenings and nights were the busiest times as then the climate was a little cooler for the soldiers to enjoy themselves but over a twelve hour day Tara could be made to service up to thirty men many of whom demanded painful and degrading acts from their whore. Soldiers are not selected for their gentleness so Tara's body carried the cuts, wheals and bruises which testified to the life which she led. Her working day did not allow her the luxury of servicing one man at a time and her colour meant that she was probably the busiest girl in the unit.

She knew within herself that she had brought herself to this life and that she deserved every pain and indignity which was heaped upon her but sometimes she came to the brink of refusing a demand or even hitting out at the vile man on top of her which would lead within hours to her dancing on air at the end of a rope.

It seemed to be only a matter of time before her sentence was carried out but then the unfathomable happened. One morning Tara struggled out of another short night of exhausted but uneasy sleep to face another long day of being used but her door remained locked and she had no customers although she could hear the business of the unit being transacted in all the adjoining rooms.

She waited on her bed wondering if her life as a whore had been brought to an end and if any moment would bring the soldiers to take her to the scaffold. At mid day her meal was brought to her and her rations had been doubled. The girl who brought the tray kept bobbing curtsies and grinning.

"No more soldiers Tara. Tara special girl."

On the second day a doctor came to examine her but he spoke no English and she could obtain no information from him. For two more days she had nothing to do except wash, eat and drink. On the last day the doctor was back and he seemed pleased at the way that the marks on her flesh were healing. That night the door opened to admit two large men in Western suits who escorted Tara out of the building but would not speak to her. Outside waited a shining black limousine with a small pennant fluttering on the bonnet and a military chauffeur at the wheel. Tara was put into the back of the car with her two minders flanking her. It was a very tense journey as not a word was spoken by anyone.

They drove out of the city into the inky blackness beyond with the headlights picking out only the rough edges of the road. An armed escort followed in a jeep. Tara sat up very straight as they turned off the road down a track which led through a striped and guarded barrier which was raised for them to pass through. A little further on they came to high double gates with a sentry box outside and a sentry looked into the car. He was apparently satisfied as he spoke into a walkie talkie and the gates silently slid open to admit them to a compound in front of a stone built house with white columns lining the front.

Tara was increasingly uneasy as her forearm was gripped and she was led up the steps, through the imposing front door and across a tessellated entrance hall into a small but exquisitely furnished room. Her guards led her into the room and then withdrew and she heard the lock click in the door so that she was alone in the centre of the room just looking around her.

The confused woman stayed alone in her opulent prison for over an hour according to the French antique clock on the mantelpiece then the door opened to admit a large man clad in a red satin dressing gown. He was smoking a large cigar and he blew smoke rings as he studied his new acquisition.

"Now you belong to me. You will be an obedient pet."

Hardly anyone in Umbongo would have recognised this man and even fewer would have dared to speak his name but Tara had come from a world with a more or less free press and her mind was struggling to come to terms with the fact that she was being addressed by General Embugger the head of Umbongo's feared and hated Secret Police. He had risen to his position by the simple expedient of being the half brother of the president and he owned his own Lear Jet and estates in Paris and California amongst other places.

The General was a man who always got what he wanted and when he had heard of a very accomplished white whore who had a limitless capacity for pain and humiliation he had to own her. The world's press occasionally carried gossip pieces about the general's rather exotic and special tastes and the coming months would see a series of long lens photographs showing the general with his pet, clothed or otherwise, on the end of a sturdy lead with a heavy collar around her neck. The pet was obviously white but she was never identified and probably even her former staff in the Dealing Room would never recognise her.