Captive- Veiled Desires (4 page)

The thought of Adam pounding into her, making her scream and begging for more, aroused him. Suddenly, he wanted her too. He wanted to spread those legs and taste the sweet cum wetting her pink pussy. How must it feel to knead her soft breasts, to pinch her nipples between his fingers?

He grew hard and he couldn’t help touching himself. He could feel his rigid cock through his pants and it throbbed in his hand, eager for Nora’s soft lips around it. Why should he jack-off right here when she was sitting only a few feet away from him, and probably as sex-starved as he was?

He stubbed out his cigarette and ambled out of the room and towards Nora’s. He signaled at the two guards to stand down. They obediently strolled away, leaving him alone standing outside it. He rubbed his jaw, smiling. His cock was aching to see her.

The door creaked open and Nora jerked up. It was dead in the night and she wondered who it could be. The guard? Was it the guard?

She stiffened, trying to make him out in the poor light from the moon streaming through the window.

“Hello, whore,” he said.

She gasped. It was Mateen.

“What do you want?” she croaked. “I told you I deleted those pictures. I’m not a spy. I’m just a tourist, a photographer.”

“I believe you,” he sneered, edging closer to her.

“Then you –will- let me go?” she asked, stepping away from him. But how far could she run? Her room was only seven feet wide.

“Let you go?” He laughed. “When did I promise you that?”

She didn’t like his tone. There was something different about it. Something that wasn’t there when he had beaten her. This was worse.

“No, no, no.” He shook his head. “It’s good you’re not a spy. Very, very good. Now, you can be my bitch.”

Her body froze. She must have not heard him right. She had been dreading it all these days… her nightmares- they were coming alive.

He reached out for her and she cringed. He grabbed a fistful of her hair and pulled her close to his face.

“Beautiful,” he whispered, rubbing the pad of his thumb against her jaw-line.

She put her arms between them and against his chest, trying to push him away. This only made him angry as he tugged harder onto her hair.

“You know you want it, bitch,” he growled. “Why fight it? All you western women are whores. I bet you’re not even a virgin.”

He squeezed down on her neck and she gasped for air.

“No, no,no,” she sobbed.

“No?” he sneered. “Why don’t I check?”

His hand ran down between her legs, but she clasped her thighs as tight as she could, pushing his hands away at the same time.

“Please, don’t,” she begged.

“It’s okay.” He breathed heavily against her. “Close your eyes and pretend I’m one of your pig boyfriends. Now, open your legs.”

She pushed hard against him and he stumbled back slightly. He raged and he slapped her hard. He grabbed her and threw her against the wall.

“One more of those and I’ll be fucking your dead body,” he snarled. “Either way, I will fuck you!”

His hands frantically worked at her pants, eager to feel her wet cunt. Today though, he’d have to satisfy himself with a quick fuck. She wasn’t ready to take instructions. But she will learn to obey. And when she would, he would taste her. And then she would beg him to fuck her, to take her.

He tugged at her shirt, wanting to taste her breasts. He needed some flesh and her pants were taking too long to come off. He made a mental note to get her changed into a dress. And no panties. He smiled at the thought. Then he could have her whenever he wished.

He ripped out her bra and grabbed her tits with his mouth.

She screamed. “No! Please no! Help, someone. Please help!”

“Shut the fuck up!” he growled, finally loosening her jeans, pushing them down in a state of frenzy. “No one’s gonna hear you. No one.”

“Please, don’t,” she begged again, feeling his hard cock press against herself.

He felt for her pussy, digging with his finger into her hole.

She crouched, trying to pull them out of her. “Help! Freba!”

The door flung open wildly. The man was back and he was raging.

He charged up to Mateen and pulled him away, swinging his fist against his face.

The blow cut the corner of Mateen’s lips and Mateen riled. He tripped the man’s legs, felling him to the ground. They tussled, each trying to subdue the other.

Freba ran up to Nora, cowering on the floor and quickly covered her with a blanket.

Finally, the man overcame Mateen, hitting him squarely in the face repeatedly. Mateen swore at him and the man rose up with anger, pulling out his knife.

Was he going to kill Mateen? Nora shivered. But then he turned towards her, his knife ready to slit her throat. Her eyes widened in panic.

Freba cried, shaking her head.

Nora shifted, trying to crawl, trying to run. But her body froze, confused with the instructions she was desperately trying to give it.

He pulled her legs, bringing her closer to him.

“Freba?” she begged, looking at the woman.

But Freba had turned away, sobbing into her shawl.

Why wouldn’t Freba do anything? Why won’t she stand up to the man like she did to Mateen?

The man grabbed her hair and swung his knife. Nora pulled in a deep breath, waiting for its steel sharp blade to slice open her flesh.

The man threw her back instead and she opened her eyes to find him holding a lock of her hair.

He swore at Mateen, brandishing the lock in his face.

Mateen paled, scrambling to his feet. He glanced threateningly at the two women and then limped out of the room.

The man hung his head and then let out an angry scream that chilled her spine.

“Freba?” she whispered, turning to the woman. Something happened. She couldn’t quite figure what that was though.

“Sshh,” Freba whispered in her comforting voice again. “It’s gonna be okay.”

Two hours ago

Adam sat on the floor, watching Freba turn another thin bread in the hearth.

“Thanks for letting me know, Freba,” he said. “You did the right thing.”

She pulled out the bread and flipped it into a plate. “I don’t question why you men do what you do. But that poor woman should not have been beaten like that by Mateen. She can’t be convicted a spy until you have proof. The problem with Mateen is he fails to understand this.” She shook her head. “I never believed in Darul-Ilhaam until you led it. It was only about the drugs and the guns. But you make us believe that we do all this so we can help our people. To bring them out of slavery and poverty. With you as the leader, I know you will make Darul-Ilhaam stand for justice.”

“You put too much faith in me, Freba. I am only a man.”

“You are an angel, Adam Afridi. Mateen, on the other hand, is the devil incarnate. He makes me very uneasy. I don’t like that he’s your right-hand man. He cannot be trusted.”

Adam tensed, his temples pulsating fervently. He pushed his plate of food aside and wiped his hands on a towel.

“You haven’t finished,” Freba said, looking disapprovingly at the left-over in his plate.

“I’m not hungry.” He paused. “Has the woman eaten?”

“Nora? No.”

“Give it to her.”

Freba picked up his plate and placed a freshly toasted bread into it. “Nora… do you think she’s a spy?”

“I don’t know, Freba,” he said slowly. “I’ll just have to find out.” He looked up at the woman who seemed genuinely concerned for her new-found friend. He hoped she didn’t get too attached to her. In the instance the woman was indeed a spy, he would have to arrange to dispose of her.

Freba was older than he by about seven years. But the desert, poverty and hard labor had taken its toll on her body, aging her drastically. The wrinkles in the corners of her eyes were deep, her skin was dry and her face displayed a troubled history. After having lost her husband and two sons to the war, she sought refuge with Darul-Ilhaam as its maid.

When Adam had met her ten years ago as a young enthusiastic twenty-four year old, he had instantly bonded with her. Hamasa, the then leader of Darul-Ilhaam used her for his own personal gratification, but he had always underestimated her intelligence. So when Adam won her trust, she gave him all he needed to depose Hamasa and take over Darul-Ilhaam. In his final hours, Hamasa had been executed by a firing squad made up of the same men he had used to build up Darul-Ilhaam into one of Afghanistan’s prominent drug cartels and arms dealers.

He paced about outside the house, unable to rest. The woman played on his mind. What was he to do with her? If he simply let her off, he would be suspected of betrayal. But he couldn’t simply just kill her. What had Mateen done, he swore. He ran his hands through his hair.

He strolled into the adjoining building that held the woman as prisoner and the first thing he noticed was the absence of the two guards. And then he heard her scream, “Help! Freba!”