SEX SLAVES OF EAST LONGSHOTT DOWN - PART VII
by Infidel Dog


Authors' note: This story is a fantasy, involving the kidnapping of
young teenagers for the pleasure of a Middle Eastern Pasha. The Pasha
is not a cruel man, but his sexual appetite is not easily satisfied,
and, when it comes to girls. he has a number of preferences as to
their physical characteristics. He is rich enough to carry out a
program of enhancement to the girls in his harem to make them meet his
requirements.

To Western minds, the Pasha and his tastes would be seen as perverted,
kinky and sick. We prefer not to judge the man by Western standards,
but offer this account as a semi-fictional documentary record of the
doings of such a man. Please remind yourself constantly, in his land,
his behaviour is considered normal and reasonable.

If you object to scenes showing young girls being exposed to
situations which Westerners would find intolerably humiliating, read
no further. If you are below the age of consent in your community,
delete this material at once.





SEX SLAVES OF EAST LONGSHOTT DOWN - PART VII
by Infidel Dog


Chapter 23:- At The Gates

I passed the girls' room and hurried down towards the engineer's
workshop. Nobody around anywhere. I would cut through the laundry and
get round to my room, then have a word with Adnan. Find out who the
intruder was, and what he was after.

I had never trusted that shifty swine, Adnan. Perhaps he would talk
with a little 'persuasion'. I stepped into the engineer's workshop and
looked around for a suitable persuader. There was a vicious-looking
saw on the bench. I tested the blade. That ought to free his tongue!
Watch out, Adnan, dog, here I come!


**********

Adnan had come to a halt in the laundry, waiting for Piers to catch
up. Where was the little bugger? Probably bumped into the girl Candi
and stopped for a quick fuck. Very quick, he thought, and sniggered at
his sophisticated humour. Ah! Someone was coming. Was this him? About
time.

"About time, you lazy little shit, what kept you?" he said loudly as
Piers came into the laundry. Except that it wasn't Piers. It was the
African no-ball, brandishing a vicious-looking saw.


**********

It was Adnan. I couldn't believe my own luck. But my luck was the Will
of Allah. This swine had endangered the entire harem by his treachery,
to say nothing of dropping me in the shit with the Pasha. I went for
him with the vicious-looking saw. I had the advantage of surprise. I
leapt at him, and slashed downwards, giving the much-feared war-cry of
my father's village.

But something had grasped me around the legs and ankles, and I was
pitched forward.


**********

As the African lunged at Adnan - and the laundry man backed away,
keeping an eye on the vicious-looking saw - he gave out a sort of
African war-cry. Back in his village, it was probably a much-feared
war-cry. Yet at that moment, even as he screamed, his feet became
hopelessly entangled in the sheets draped across the laundry basket.

He was off balance. In a tangle of bed-linen, he sprawled full length
on the floor, catching his head on a corner of the bench as he went
down. The last of the sheets wrapped around his legs and he slumped in
an untidy heap on the marble floor. But Adnan's eyes were drawn to the
laundry basket, and he boggled in sheer disbelief as he stared at it.

He stepped across Hassan's inert body, pausing to check it for vital
signs. Out cold. Then on to the laundry basket. He opened the lid
cautiously, and Kitty sat upright with an 'it's a fair cop' expression
on her face. Adnan's jaw dropped. In his time at the harem, he'd heard
of some big tits, but never in his life had he ever seen anything even
HALF the size of these monsters.

Kitty stood up in the basket, her mountainous gazongas hanging outside
the wickerwork, swaying around the level of her knees. She held out a
hand for him to help her out. "I am Kitty", she said, sweetly.

"Adnan".

"Ah, so you have come to rescue me?"

"You'd better go and get in the van. Through those doors, there." 

"Certainly! But you will carry my breasts, please?"

Adnan spluttered. No actual words came out. He would gladly carry her
breasts, but the two of them would be probably too heavy and certainly
too bulky for one man. Kitty had an idea. "Walk in front of me, and
carry them on your shoulders". So he knelt in front of her, then
slowly stood up, grunting under the weight of Kitty's breasts.

He raised his hands to hold them up, not quite believing the weight of
them as they settled warm and squashy against his ears; then slowly
and carefully, the four of them went out of the double doors and into
the back of the van.


**********

It was about time *somebody* had an uneventful journey from the girls'
room, past the engineer's workshop to the laundry. Emily, Candi, Piers
and the engineer had just that. Everything went far too smoothly.

They stopped at the engineer's workshop, took him inside and tied him
securely to the leg of his workbench. Then with Candi leading the way
at a brisk waddle, with Piers tagging along in her wake like a seagull
following a fishing boat - or rather, in this case, a fish-processing
factory-ship - Emily herded her brood toward the van.

They came to a halt a couple of times, as Piers managed to catch hold
of one of Candi's erogenous zones and she folded him into her bosom
with a whimpering sound. On one of these occasions, Piers almost got
his rampant erection within striking range; but Emily smacked him on
his tautly boyish buttocks, and Candi on her overhanging womanly ones;
and the party resumed its progress.

They arrived at the van just as Adnan was stepping down, not yet fully
recovered from carrying more than sixty pounds of soft Swedish breast
on each shoulder. His eyes were glazed. The sight of Candi approaching
filled him with awe. If there was one thing that appealed even more
strongly to Adnan that giant breasts, it was overweight teenagers.
Candi was the most overweight teenager Adnan had ever dreamed of. His
jaw dropped for the second time in five minutes.

Candi squeezed softly and warmly past him into the van, followed by
Piers, clinging to one of her twelve love-handles on each side. She
leaned against the wall of the van, exhausted from all her recent
exertions, and Piers plunged straight in, adjusting his angle of
attack and slipping home a considerable length.

Candi released a sigh of contentment, and followed it with a gush of
bodily fluids.

Emily raised her eyes to the heavens.

Kitty, Frida, Toots and Lucinda watched with interest, and the total
concentration of young girls intent on learning the secrets of sexual
relations. Not that Piers and Candi were keeping any secrets.

The girls were open-mouthed and drooling. Toots, a little young for
that sort of thing, but undeniably the most experienced, was clapping
her little hands in rhythm with the lovers' mutual thrusting. She
might well have been flushed with excitement, but on her, it didn't
show.

Piers came to a conclusion, withdrew considerately, and looked around
for the first time at his appreciative audience. "Oh, hi, Cinders", he
greeted his sister, lovingly. He looked more closely at Cinders's
six-foot chest, then back at her face for confirmation. "It *is* you,
Cinders?" he gulped.

"It's me", she nodded.

"Fucking Hell!" he said with deep feeling.


**********

Emily stepped down from the van and pressed herself against the
corrugated metal side, looking forward toward the gates of the harem.
A large eunuch was still on guard, leaning against the gates in the
sunshine. He looked as if he was fully prepared to stay there all day
without moving. She was going to find it difficult to sneak along the
left side of the van and get into the driver's seat. She might get
lucky, but the risk was too great.

Even if she did get into the seat, the eunuch would become attentive
once the van started. He would surely be alerted by the fact that it
was being driven by a girl in harem clothing. Why hadn't they thought
of this before?

She hissed to Adnan, and he came over. "Can you drive this thing?" she
said.

Adnan seemed not to have recovered fully from his experience with
Kitty and her breasts. He shook his head, wild-eyed. "I can't drive.
Not this van or nothing!"

Curse these bloody useless blokes, she thought. Right, then, *she'd*
have to drive the van out of the gates, but they'd need a diversion to
get the eunuch away. Perhaps Adnan wasn't totally useless, after all.
Could *he* think of a way to get the guard's attention. No use trying
to lure *him*, or it, away with the promise of a pretty girl, Emily
thought grimly. She asked Adnan if he had any ideas.

"Gee, I dunno! How about a fire?" he said, throwing his arms wide in a
gesture of hopelessness.

Emily had heard worse ideas. They could start a fire, plenty of smoke,
in the laundry. Adnan could rush outside screaming for help, and the
eunuch would have to come in. They could hit him with something, and
make a break for it. "Can you start a fire? In there? In, say, five
minutes?"

"No problem. I'll get some linen piled up, and some waste paper. We've
got dry-cleaning fluid will burn. I'll get on to it." And he ran
inside the building.

Men aren't completely useless, thought Emily, they just need careful
direction. Back in the crowded van, where Piers and Candi were at it
again like dogs in the street, Emily grabbed Frida by the shoulder.
"Is the radio okay, still?"

"I think so, but there's nobody listening out there."

"Get it switched on, or whatever it is you do to it, then call what's
their names. Mike and Charlie. They're out there somewhere. Quick,
we're leaving in five minutes."

Frida, glad of something to do that was less frustrating than watching
the almost continuous love-making display, turned to the radio
transmitter. She fiddled with it for a moment, then picked up the mike
and called: "Hello Mike, Hello, Charlie, this is Fox, over."

There was no sound, apart from another climactic sigh from Candi,
relatively subdued. She must have been getting tired, doing it
standing up. Frida called again. No reply.

"It's no use, Em, they're not there." Tears welled in the girl's eyes.
"We can't leave them, not Caro, not Mansoor!"

"Keep calling, pet. We've got four minutes before Adnan sets the
laundry on fire." Frida called again. By now, they were all listening
for an answer, even Candi and Piers. Frida shook her head sadly and
buried her face in her hands. "Keep calling!" snarled Emily, and Frida
picked up the mike again.

She called, called again and listened. Adnan's face appeared at the
double doors and nodded, looking quizzically at Emily. She bit her
lip, then nodded. "Light it!" she said. Adnan ducked back inside.

Suddenly, Frida was staring at the radio loudspeaker, then looking
around at the faces in the van. Abruptly, she grabbed the mike again
and shouted into it.

"Charlie? Charlie, this is Fox, say again?"

A burst of noise. Then: "Fox, this is Charlie. We're on our way back!
Hang on."

Frida looked round at the others, tears flooding down her cheeks.
Cinders threw her arms around her. Toots and Kitty slapped palms. The
radio spoke again. "Fox, this is Charlie. We're trying to get Mansoor
back. We found him in the corridor", Caro paused for a panting breath.
"He's unconscious, out cold. Don't know what happened to him. We're
trying to drag him back, but he's so heavy!"

Emily seized the mike. "Caro, where are you now?"

"Give us five minutes, we'll be back in the laundry."

Then the first wisps of smoke drifted out of the laundry door, quickly
building to a thick, choking cloud. Whatever Adnan was burning, it was
certainly doing its job.

"Oh, shit, Adnan, too soon", Emily wailed. She glanced forward toward
the gates. Already, the guard was sniffing the air and looking round
to see where the smoke was coming from.

Then Emily was sent reeling backwards by a heavy body colliding with
her. Toots had gone flying out of the back of the van,
shoulder-charged Emily out of the way, and hurtled into the
smoke-filled laundry, her vast breasts rebounding like a pair of
puppies in a sack. Bull mastiff puppies.

Emily recovered her balance and screeched after her, "Toots! Toots,
come back, you crazy bugger, don't go back in there!" She shook her
head in exasperation. "That stupid fuckin' kid! Toots! Hang on, pet,
I'm coming with you!"

The other girls squeaked in alarm as the escape plan fell apart around
them. It was Candi who took over. "Frida, keep talking to them on that
thing", she shouted, and Frida spun round to the radio and started
yelling encouragement to Caro.

"Caro, we're coming to help you! Toots and Emily are on their way.
Keep going, Caro..."

"Cinders, Piers, help me make some room in here. If they're bringing a
body in, we'll need space to lay him down. Push all the baskets over
there. Stack them up on top of one another." Cinders and Piers obeyed
instantly, Cinders struggling with her swaying breasts, Piers with his
renewed erection as his lover ordered him about so masterfully. Or
mistressfully. Anyway, you didn't argue with a girl who weighed twenty
stone!


**********

Candi and Erica were on their last legs. Mansoor's dead weight slid
easily across the marble floors, but it seemed to be uphill all the
way. They kept colliding with the walls. Frida's voice on the radio
was yelling encouragement, but it only seemed to make things worse, as
if mocking their inability to drag Mansoor with them.

They took a rest, panting heavily, looking at each other helplessly.
Then round the corner came a little whirlwind, as Toots arrived,
gasping for breath, everything in violent motion. She immediately
grabbed at Mansoor's collar and started pulling. He hardly moved, and
Toots squealed in frenzy. But the sheer energy of the little girl
fired Caro and Erica. They grasped an arm each and heaved.

They were on the move again. And Emily arrived, like the Fourth
Cavalry, and without a word, yanked at Mansoor's arm. They worked up a
head of steam, Mansoor now sliding across the polished marble as they
scuttled along at a brisk trot. Round the corner into the laundry, and
the smoke was billowing and choking. They couldn't see a yard in front
of them.

Caro and Erica, who didn't know about the cause of the fire, stopped
pulling. Emily drove them on. "Don't worry, it's only some sheets
Adnan's set on fire! Keep going. We're nearly there!"

And they were, nearly there, as they rounded the bench and skidded to
a halt. Mansoor's body had come to an abrupt stop, snagged on
something - they couldn't see what - and the four girls, pulling hard,
all let go their hold and pitched in a sprawling heap on the floor.

They picked themselves up and crawled back through the smoke to find
Mansoor again. Emily found him and waved to the others. "Stuck!" she
gasped. "Help pull him free." They heaved and tugged, but he was
stuck. Weeping with frustration, they tried, pulling Mansoor in
several directions at once.

At last, he moved! Adnan had appeared, joined them with a mighty
heave, and Mansoor's body came free from whatever was holding him, and
they saw Hassan's sandalled black feet sticking out from under the
bench. "Leave him there, the bastard!" shouted Adnan, and the girls,
who had no real plans to rescue Hassan anyway, hauled Mansoor away,
through the double doors, bumping up into the back of the van, and
into the open space Candi had cleared. Caro and Erica fell down
exhausted.

Emily drove herself for one last effort. She dragged herself back out
of the van, rasping for breath, pointed to Adnan with a frenzied
finger, then stood ready to hurl herself into the driver's seat. Adnan
ran down the other side of the van, the passenger's side, and Emily
heard him yelling to the guard on the gate.

The eunuch, glad of something to occupy his mind, galloped forward to
help, reached the back of the van and went slithering to the ground as
he tripped over Toots, who had crouched in his path. Giggling, she
finished the job with the jack handle. Emily hoped the girl hadn't
killed him, but immediately she was otherwise occupied, squeezing into
the driver's seat and fumbling for the ignition keys.

Ahead, Adnan was opening one gate, then the other, then he waved her
through and waited, ready to leap aboard as the van went through.
Emily twisted the key, and the engine cranked uselessly. She tried
again, and pumped the accelerator. Still nothing, and she screamed at
the van to fuckin' well start, you greasy bastard! And it did. The
engine caught, spluttered, and the revs soared mightily as Emily
chonked it into gear and released the clutch.

In the back, the girls clutched at each other, wild-eyed. There was no
room at all in the van. The laundry baskets were piled at the front,
the radio equipment and the sheer bulk of Candi, Cinders, Erica and
Kitty, meant there was precious little room for Caro, Frida, Piers and
the body of Mansoor on the floor. Toots was trying to get in, but
there was no chance of getting her body inside, let alone her
mountainous tits.

Candi made her decision quietly and quickly. She leaped out, her rolls
of fat shuddering. "In you get, Toots!" She kissed the little black
girl and hoisted her into the van. She shouted across the crush of
bodies. "Caro, I'm staying! There isn't room for me in there. You lot
get away. Piers! Look after yourself, darling. You go. I'll have your
babies here."

"No!" wailed Piers and Caro together, and the other girls joined in,
trying to make room in the back of the van, but Candi was so huge
there was no way of getting her in there.

"Caro! You'll come back for me? You promise?" She didn't wait for the
answer. She slammed the back doors shut just as the van roared forward
in a cloud of exhaust smoke, and hurtled straight at the gateway. She
watched as it stopped briefly, and Adnan climbed into the cab; then it
gave a couple of kangaroo leaps before screaming away down the road
out of sight. Anxious faces watched her through the rear windows.

Sobbing piteously, Candi turned and walked slowly into the laundry,
where the fire was out and the smoke was thinning. In a dream, she
walked down the corridor to her room - empty now - sat on her bed,
still soaking wet with hers and Piers's combined juices, then rolled
over, face downwards on the mattress, and cried her eyes out.

Fatima found her lying there some time later, sat on the bed next to
her, and cuddled the huge teenager to her capacious bosom. And Candi,
neither knowing nor caring who her comforter was, snuggled closer.
Eventually, her tears stopped, and she fell asleep, dreaming of
Piers's babies.


**********

Inside the swaying van, the girls were stunned into silence. They
looked from one to another, seeking comfort in each other's frightened
faces.

They'd escaped. So, for the time being, at least, they were free. But
they still had to get away. And they'd lost Candi.





Chapter 24:- On Your Own

I was in the sick-bay and the physician was bending over me, dabbing
at my head with a damp wad of cotton wool. It hurt, and it stung like
a scorpion where he was dabbing. I looked around. The faces of the
orderlies and matrons were expressionless. Then a couple of them
stepped aside, and I noticed the Pasha himself, standing
impassionately, watching me.

He stood for a while, then spoke, his soft voice carrying through the
silence in the sick bay. "Hassan. I hope you make a speedy recovery.
You will be displeased, I trust, to note that three of your new girls
have disappeared from the premises. I am not entirely ecstatic myself.
You will find out the facts. The facts, you understand? And you will
report to me by the end of the day, without fail. I will be interested
to hear your version of this debacle! Very interested!"

Oh, shit!


**********

Mansoor sat up, the girls making room for him. He took in the circle
of faces, the roaring, swaying van, and closed his eyes again, a
half-smile on his face. Caro smoothed his bruised forehead with her
hand, and clutched his hand gently.

"We're out, Mansoor. What's next?"

He opened his eyes again. "Hello, Caro!" His voice was hoarse and
weak. "Are we heading for the car?" Nobody knew anything. "Is
everybody here?"

Caro shook her head, her eyes full of tears. "We lost Candi. She said
there wasn't room, and got out. We'll go back and get her, won't we,
Mansoor? We will, won't we?"

"Don't worry, Sis", Piers said, determinedly. "We'll go back all
right!"


**********

In the cab, Emily fought with the unfamiliar controls. Mercifully, it
was still early, and the streets were not crowded, but passers-by
stared at the rusty grey van screamed by in low gear, driven by a
crazy-eyed European girl.

"Turn right here", ordered Adnan, and the van bucked around yet
another tight corner. "Down there, then on the left". They roared on,
then Adnan slapped on the dashboard. "Here, here it is!" and they
slithered to a halt beside a battered yellow Peugeot station wagon.

Emily climbed out, dreading the prospect of driving yet another
strange vehicle. Adnan joined her, then the back doors of the van
opened, and Toots climbed out. "Can we all get in there" Emily asked,
uncertainly. More and more girls were piling out of the van, standing
in a ragged group, their great breasts all bouncing at different rates
in the sunshine. It didn't look as if they could all get in.

Mansoor had climbed out, holding his head. "You okay to drive, Emily?"
he asked. "I'll take over in an hour".

She smiled bravely. "I'll give it a go, but don't all shout at me. It
was all right in the van, you were all out of the way in the back.
Let's get in, then."

Adnan had the doors of the Peugeot open, and they all squeezed
themselves into the seats. Clearly, the size of the girls hadn't been
taken into account. There was room for Kitty in the back row, with
Frida. Piers crawled on to the floor beneath Frida's feet. Caro,
Mansoor and Lucinda squashed themselves into the middle row, Adnan and
Emily piled into the front with Toots between them, trying to hold her
breasts away from the steering wheel. They ended up on Adnan's lap. He
gazed at them in wonder, but without complaint.

The diesel engine started first try, and throbbed noisily as Emily
engaged first gear. She released the handbrake and made a smooth start
for once. Then the engine laboured, and stalled. She tried again. The
same thing happened. The car wouldn't move. "More revs", suggested
Mansoor. Emily tried it, revving the engine to a scream. The car
lurched forward, the steering wheel swinging from side to side,
tearing itself out of Emily's hands, then it stalled again.

Adnan jumped out, and threw his hands up in horror and frustration.
"Back in the van", he shouted, waving his arms. "Get back in the van.
We've got a puncture!"


**********

This time, they piled straight into the van, without hesitation. The
car had a flat front tyre, and there was no time to change the wheel;
they had to get away from this town. Already, the alarm would have
gone out from the harem; the place would be alive with locals on the
alert for them, hoping for a fat reward from the Pasha.

This time, they dragged the empty laundry baskets out and threw them
into the road beside the useless Peugeot; it might delay any pursuers
for a few vital seconds. It made more room in the back. Ironically,
there would now have been room for Candi, but there was no turning
back now. With a squeal of rubber, the H-Van bucketed forward and
turned immediately left, down a side street.

Adnan's local knowledge might gain them a head start. The one
advantage they had, the Pasha's men would have no idea which way the
fugitives would be heading. There were only two directions out of the
town, but both led eventually to civilisation, in the form of a
railway station with a passenger service.

Mansoor's original plan had been to stay with the car and drive West,
back towards police headquarters. It was risky, as the girls would by
now have been reported missing from Zulfiqar's house, and Mansoor's
absence could hardly have been a coincidence. Now, though, they were
on the Eastern edge of the town, and Mansoor shouted to Adnan to carry
on to the East. It was still early in the morning, so there could be
no prospect of their being able to lie low; they would have to drive
flat out for several hours, and every hour increased the odds on their
being caught.

They hit the tarmac road and headed toward the morning sun, now well
up in the heavens and striking hot through the V-shaped windscreens.
On and on they roared, but the van was all noise and no action. This
was going to be a long trip.

After an hour, Mansoor knocked on the bulkhead between the cab and the
back of the van, and Emily, relieved, let it roll to a halt in the
middle of the road. Exhausted and drained, she moved across into the
passenger seat as Adnan clambered into the back, and Mansoor took the
wheel. Then they were off again.


**********

The girls lay on the floor at all angles, anywhere they could find the
space to lie down. They had thrown all the bundles of clothing on the
floor, but the rocking of the van on the uneven road made rest
impossible. Caro sat up first, and Lucinda joined her against the side
of the van. Frida and Erica wedged themselves in a front corner. Only
Kitty and Toots remained on the floor, both lying on their backs with
their breasts resting on the floor on either side of their bodies,
rolling to left and right with every lurch and bounce of the van's
suspension.

They stopped once for fuel, but Mansoor insisted they all stayed
inside, out of sight. They sat and sweated while the van was
mercifully still for five minutes. Then it was back to the torture of
the road once more.

It must have been past midday when they slowed and came to a halt.
Erica craned her neck to see ahead, and reported that they were in a
line of stationary traffic. In front was a truck, they could see
nothing ahead of that. Mansoor called over his shoulder, "Roadblock,
keep your heads down", and the girls made themselves as small as
possible.

Every five minutes, they crawled forward another ten yards. There was
nowhere to go except into the trap. Their minds wrestled with the
problem, and came up with no answers. Had they come all this way only
to get caught in a police roadblock? Who had organised it? Had
Zulfiqar been told? Did headquarters know? Mansoor wouldn't even know
the identity of the policemen on duty until the van was last but one
in the queue.

There were more people about now, on the outskirts of the town. Adnan
recognised the town as something that sounded like Fatiq Halfar. From
here, a railway ran to the coast, calling at Al Shafiz, which boasted
an airport. Nothing much else, but an airport nevertheless. If only
they could get there, they could find a phone and alert the
authorities. Alert the world's press, the Lashmores. They could make
themselves relatively safe from capture if they could get to Al
Shafiz. But until they got through this roadblock, they couldn't even
get to the station.

Adnan crept to the bulkhead separating the van from the cab. He
whispered something to Mansoor in rapid Arabic. Mansoor replied,
obviously unhappy with Adnan's suggestion. The argument went on for
ten minutes, while the van crept three spaces nearer. At last, the two
men seemed to come to an agreement, Emily got out of the passenger
seat, went round and climbed into the back. Adnan punched Mansoor
lightly on the shoulder and turned to the girls. "Right", he said, and
all their anxious faces looked up at him. "This is what we're going to
do."


**********

It was like a dressing-up party. The girls sorted through the piles of
clothing and assorted laundry on the floor of the van, and draped
themselves and each other in a glorious selection of finery. They
worked quickly, layering on the clothes to disguise their extravagant
development. By the time the van had shunted forward twice more,
Mansoor shouted back to them that time was getting short.

"Nearly ready", called Adnan. He checked the girls over one more time,
and they stared critically round at each other. "Not perfect, but it
will do, I think", he said. "When you get to the station, split up
into twos and threes and don't talk to each other. Here! Some money
for your tickets. Get tickets for the whole journey, not the airport.
Not Al Shafiz, okay? Tickets for Jurba or Ghadish." He told them a few
short words to help them at the ticket office. They repeated them like
a litany until they had them more or less right.

Adnan looked out of the back of the van. "Hang on. Is all clear. Go.
Good luck!"

The back doors swung open and the girls dismounted, giving minimal
waves of farewell to Adnan and Piers, before splitting up into smaller
groups, feeling desperately vulnerable and conspicuous. They joined
the crowds thronging the footpaths, and walked as slowly as they
dared, keeping their faces covered and their eyes downcast.

They saw Adnan join Mansoor in the cab of the van, then deliberately
walked away from their rescuers, down the hill toward the station.
There were two more trucks waiting in line before the van reached the
roadblock, which was manned by four bored-looking policemen.
Bored-looking, but tiresomely efficient, peering under the sheets on
the back of the trucks, overturning boxes, ransacking cabs. They
seemed to be taking out their boredom on the undeserving public.


**********

Caro walked ahead with Erica. They entered the crowded station
building and followed the stream of travellers to the ticket office.
The clerk was under pressure, issuing tickets as fast as he could. It
was a relief to see that he never looked up at the passengers as they
bought their tickets. He didn't even acknowledge their requests,
simply punching a button and sliding the ticket to the window, while
raking the money towards him with the other hand.

They made their way to the far end of the coast-bound platform, where
crowds were already gathered with the resignation of people who knew a
train would be along in the next hour or two. The girls exchanged no
more than a few muttered words, concentrating on being invisible.
"Look", Caro muttered, "Frida's made it". Erica looked, and grunted in
reply.

Frida was with Lucinda. Both were heavily draped, Lucinda's bust
hanging so low she could easily pass for a pregnant woman. Caro
thought she saw her sister glance up in their direction, and she gave
her a tiny nod of encouragement, then turned away to study a
timetable.

Kitty had the biggest problem, in every sense. Shrouded from head to
foot in a voluminous black robe, she seemed to occupy half the width
of the platform. She could only walk slowly, and Toots, who was with
her, was pretending to be an attentive child servant, holding Kitty's
arm. The difficulty was that Toots herself was attracting unwelcome
attention. Her figure defied all attempts at disguise. Being no more
than four feet tall, and so skinny, her outlandish breasts looked
exactly that. The other girls hadn't even managed to make her look
convincingly pregnant.

Lustful glances were aimed at her from every direction. Emily, who had
been walking alone, several paces behind the pair of them, decided to
move in and form a group, to try and divert some of the attention from
Toots. She took Kitty's other arm, which eased her progress a little,
and the three of them made their way to a pile of crates, where Kitty
and Toots sat down while Emily bought three tickets.

As she made her way back, she found a number of youths staring openly
at Toots, and the young girl was beginning to look stressed. Shit,
that's all we need, she thought. She walked straight up to Toots,
grabbed her arm and pulled her roughly to her feet. She shook her
roughly, praying that the kid's disguise wouldn't fall off. Toots's
eyes widened for a moment, then she grabbed her voluminous clothing
around her and threw herself into her part, whimpering in fear before
bursting into tears so convincingly that Emily thought she had really
hurt her.

The youths melted away, and there were signs among the passengers that
the train was on its way. Bags were being picked up, rucksacks
shouldered, excited cries exchanged and children smacked in
preparation for the journey. Emily and Toots helped Kitty to her feet,
and they gratefully joined the expectant crowds looking up the line.





Chapter 25:- Caro, Phone Home

The train was hot and dusty. Crowds of travellers stood in the
corridors and in the central aisles. There was no thought of the girls
obtaining a seat. The train had been full when it arrived, and hardly
anyone had got off. It seemed to bulge to accommodate the press of new
passengers, and they all got on somehow.

At least, the crowds would make it extremely unlikely that a ticket
inspector would attempt to check tickets. It would take hours just to
get from one end of the train to the other. For the most part, the
passengers seemed lethargic, not interested in each other. Even Kitty
and Toots failed to draw more than a passing flash of interest. Kitty
had been offered a chance to sit on a suitcase, and she had gratefully
perched her bottom on it, her breasts resting on the floor beside her
feet. Toots squatted beside her, trying to look inconspicuous.

At last, a movement among the passengers suggested that a number of
them were making ready to get off at the next station. More and more
people were abandoning their seats, pulling luggage down from overhead
racks and making their way toward the doors. The vacated seats were
immediately filled. The effect was a sort of silent version of musical
chairs.

The train was slowing, clattering and swaying over intersecting tracks
at the approach to an obviously important station. At various points
along the length of the train, the girls looked at each other, and
prepared to leave. They were all thinking about the others, hoping
they remembered Adnan's directions. Then they were hanging on to
anything they could reach as the train groaned and ground to a halt.

Doors were flung open, and half the population of the country was
pouring out, milling around on the sandy station concourse, looking
for friends and family, sorting out baggage. A jet took off and
whistled low overhead, drowning even the bustle of the train as it
prepared to leave in a climax of slamming doors, waving flags and
shrilling whistles. By the time the airliner had roared into the
distance, the train was on the move with a great roar of diesels, and
gathering pace as it clattered away to the North.

Again, still keeping apart, the girls made their way into the
terminal. It was a low-roofed building, crammed with sweating
humanity, but they felt safer in there than out in the open. They now
had two hours to wait before the next train arrived, the train
bringing Mansoor and Adnan.

For Caro, there was one more task. She had to find a telephone.


**********

Dawn Lashmore watered the flower beds like a robot, refilling the
watering can two or three times. The more times she had to refill the
can and carry it outside, the more she liked it. When this job was
over, she would have to think again, and the thoughts would be like
barbs piercing her flesh. Janet Freshwater would be round at ten, and
they would drink coffee, and talk. And there would be the unspoken
accusation, and the guilt, that she had been so negligent as to let
Candi be kidnapped as well as her own entire family. She emptied the
watering can and trudged into the house.

Basil was in the study, on the phone. She knew he was only keeping
himself busy, and making endless phone calls was his pointless way of
doing it. Since the Lashmores had returned to East Longshott Down,
there had been no word from the Embassy. It had been ten days since
they had returned home, a fortnight since the kidnap.

Even in the silly season, the newspapers couldn't find anything more
to say about four missing kids after two weeks. The television crews
had packed their lights and cameras and driven off in their Volvos.
The daily call from the local newspaper reporter had become a hollow
ritual.

Dawn went into the kitchen and filled the kettle. It would be worse
for Janet Freshwater, she thought, she was all alone without Candi.
She had been very close to her daughter. The two of them could have
been sisters. Oh, God, what a filthy mess!

She heard the phone slam down and Basil banging out of the back door
into the garden. She'd take her coffee into the garden, and a mug for
Basil, too. When Janet arrived, they would all sit out there together.
The sun was nice and hot, it didn't look like rain. Would it be hot
and dry where Caro and Lucinda and Piers were right now?


**********

Caro put the phone down again. Three times now she had tried the
number, and it was always engaged. It was difficult enough
understanding the unfamiliar foreign tones and sounds on the
telephone, without getting an engaged signal when she finally got
through to home.

If it was engaged, they must be there. Or were they? Were they still
in the South of France, waiting for news. After two weeks? Why was the
phone engaged. Had it not been put back on the hook before they went
on holiday? It was a nightmare. She rejoined Erica, and shook her
head. Then it was Erica's turn to try the phone.


**********

Adnan waited by the ticket office with Piers. The boy was silent and
gloomy, and had said nothing since they had left the van. They had
dressed him in some black baggy trousers and a loose white shirt. A
headdress covered his blond hair, but they had been forced to cover
his pale skin with dust. It was not a disguise that would pass close
scrutiny.

Adnan grunted with relief as Mansoor charged into the station. He
waved to the policeman and they headed for the platform, converging at
the ticket inspector's gate. A train was already pulling in as they
panted on to the platform.

Just before the van had reached the roadblock, Adnan had got out with
Piers and they had melted into the crowds. Mansoor flashed his police
badge, causing confusion amongst the policemen searching the vehicles.
They had been briefed to look for a van or truck, or even a yellow
Peugeot. Why they had been told to look out for the Peugeot was
anyone's guess; it had already been found, abandoned with a puncture.
The description of the van was incredibly vague, despite the eunuch
having stared at it for the best part of an hour. Hassan had not been
asked for a description of the van until almost midday, and he thought
it might have been a light blue Renault.

Mansoor gesticulated to the search team, and indicated that he would
park the van over the way, and come back to give them a hand getting
the traffic moving. "It's backed up five kilometres", he told them,
and noticed a look of satisfaction creep over their dumb faces. But
they'd let him move the van away, unsearched, and he had hidden the
radios and carefully locked it, before slipping away into the crowds.

Mansoor had a number of calls to make, to cover his tracks. He alerted
police headquarters that a grey Citroen van 'full of girls' had been
spotted 250 kilometres to the West. Another call in a disguised voice
said the van had been seen heading for the coast. Finally, he had to
run to the station, and arrived in the nick of time.


**********

Janet Freshwater had just arrived, and was passing the back door when
the phone rang.

"Shall I get that, Dawn?" she called.

"Oh, thanks, Jan, it'll probably be the local paper again. He always
calls at this time."


**********

Caro listened, the receiver sweaty against her ear. Clicks and purring
noises echoed down the line. She imagined the living room, the sun
through the curtains as this time of the day, it would be mid morning
back home. Daddy would be at work. Mum would be ... Or would they?
What did people do when their families were kidnapped as sex-slaves.

Click. Brrr. Brrr-brrr. Brrr-brrr. Brrr-brrr. Brrr-brrr.

It was ringing! Caro gulped. Her throat was dry. What was she going to
say?

"Hello, Longshott 235368?"

A strange voice. A woman. Who could it be? "Is that the Lashmore's
house?"

"Yes, this is the Lashmore residence."

"This is Caro. Carolyn Lashmore, can I speak to my ..."

"Caro! Hold on. Where are you? Are you all right? I'll get your
mother. This is Janet Freshwater. Is Candi with you?"

Caro burst into tears. To get through at last, and it was Candi's mum.
What could she say to her? The man on the phone in the next alcove was
looking at her strangely as she stood there, unable to say a word into
the receiver, tears pouring down her face.

"...Hello? Caro, you still there? Is Candi..."

"No, she's not! I'll explain. Is Mum there. Please!" she pleaded, and
fresh tears flooded out as she heard her mother's voice.

"Caro! You're alive! Where are you? Is Lucinda okay? What about
Piers?"

"Mum, they're with us. At least, Piers is following on the next train.
He'll be here in an hour with Mansoor and Adnan. I'm here with
Cinders, and Kitty. And Erica, Emily, Frida and Toots. We're all
alive."

"Who? Who are all these people?" There was a brief burst of whispering
and Caro heard a hand being put over the mouthpiece. "Is Candi there?
Where ARE you?"

"We're at Al Shafiz. Look it up. I don't ..."

"Caro, this is no time for guessing games! Who is this Al Shaffey?
Where's he ...? Where *are* you?"

"I don't know", she wailed, and spoke more quietly as the man next
door stared again, "I don't know even which country we're in ... hang
on ... she frantically fed coins into the slot ... "still there? Which
country or anything. North Africa? Al Shafiz. At the airport. Oh, God!
Please! Tell Dad. Look it up. That's all I KNOW!"

"Darling! What about Candi? Her Mother wants to know."

"Oh, Mum! We had to leave her behind when we escaped. She was too big
to go in the van! She volunteered to stay. She's still in there ..."

"In where?"

"In the harem!"

"The HAREM!" and Caro heard a scream in the background at the other
end of the line. Then the money ran out.


**********

They leaned against the door of the train, still panting as the
diesels throbbed and the wheels clattered over the joints in the
track. The next problem was to get them all out of the country. Piers
and the girls had no passports, no proof of identity at all. They
could try to phone home, but they might be unsuccessful. Adnan had no
papers, so he was going to have problems. Mansoor had his passport,
ironically, he was the only one who didn't *need* to get away.

At least, at the airport, they were in such a public place that any
pursuers would be at a disadvantage. And they had the telephones to
the outside world. It was better, thought Mansoor than, what would
Emily have called it? A poke in the eye with a sharp stick? These
crazy European girls. He was going to miss them.


<End of Part VII>

Part VIII has been posted at the same time as this episode.