Guards

During the following weeks, M. noticed that some women seemed to invite punishment, almost taunting the guards into action; she supposed that these were unsatisfied with the men they’d been assigned to. They certainly didn’t seem to mind being half-stripped, and she heard sounds of muffled giggles when some of the randier guards amused themselves with the ‘disgraced’ women. Once she saw a woman kneeling before a guard, in the shadows, and although she looked away, she couldn’t help hearing the slurping and heavy breathing as she pleasured him by mouth.

The kitchen duties were primitive, hard work, but not difficult. M., with her innate drive for doing things properly, was soon noticed by the overseers, and put in charge of some actual cooking rather than preparation tasks. She revelled in creating good, nourishing, and attractive food from unpromising ingredients. She realised that the upper part of the kitchen, where she now worked, was partly shielded from the surveillance cameras by a large cabinet, and the guards seemed to concentrate their attentions on the less skilled potato-peelers and other workers in the lower area. She relaxed a little, allowing herself a less defensive expression and occasionally humming as she worked.

‘No talking!’ barked the guard, but she raised her eyebrows, and drew her finger across her closed lips. She had only been humming, after all. He could do nothing.

After that, the other women realised that they could hum, and to M’s astonishment, someone nearby struck up the simple, lovely melody of the Humming Chorus, and she joyfully added the alto part. More joined in, some tuneful, some not, but for half an hour or more, the kitchen sounded like a melodic beehive as tune after tune was hummed. A shred of memory surfaced in M’s brain. Hadn’t there once, back in the 20th century, been a war, when women prisoners had formed a humming choir, and performed multi-part works?

She wondered about it. Of course, with no books, no teaching, and no access to the now-stunted Internet, she couldn’t be sure. But it did seem a nice thing to do while working.

That night, he asked her about the humming, and warned her to be careful. Any hint of insolence and she’d be taken from him, and put into the General dormitory, where she’d be available for any man at any time.

She shivered and agreed to be obedient.

He pulled her close against his chest, warm under the covers.

‘I wouldn’t want to lose this. You must obey.’

She kissed his flat nipples, caressing the thick, short curls of hair, and he kissed the top of her head.

‘You are an amazing woman. I can’t believe you were destitute. You should have been the honoured spouse of a high-ranking man. What happened?’

‘Fate, I suppose. I was married, he died, I moved away, seeking a better place to live. Then my goods were taken from me and I had nothing. I was seeking work when they found me.’

He stroked the firm sweep of her back, now sleek and well-muscled from work and regular food.

‘You intrigue me. Such a competent cook, the voice of a singer, an intelligence that is almost frightening, and in bed.. I have had no woman to match your prowess. And you enjoy it.’

She murmured softly, a contented purring sound, and her hand stroked his thigh, finding the shaft of his cock and gently encircling it.

‘What woman would NOT enjoy this? In my country, it is normal for women to enjoy lovemaking. Especially with such a warrior’s endowment.’

She eased on top of him, straddling his hips, welcoming his hard shaft into her soft wetness, allowing her breasts to brush against his chest. He thrust slowly up into her, and as always she half-closed her eyes, purring with pleasure as he played with her nipples and firm buttocks.

His pleasure was changing; instead of closing his eyes and feeling for his own release, he was watching her, waiting for her face to show that moment when they could climax together, taking more pleasure now in giving her the best possible orgasm. Curious – she made no demands on him, was obedient, quiet, learned quickly what she must and must not do, and yet she had gained this place in his thoughts, where she was cherished and her pleasure became his pleasure.

He could hardly remember the time before he first saw her, shivering, tense and dirty in that cold cell, and she had submitted to his demands without fighting. He had had women before, of course – a man in his position, and with his endowment, would never live as a monk – but this woman, with her passion, her generous, curving figure, and her courage, had taken his fancy, and now his heart.