Chapter two
The day after the party a car called at the Alexander Hotel to take the two
young female officers to some Roman ruins out by the coast. Leiutenant Jessica
Barratt of the ATS and Sub-Leuitenant Allison Viollet of the Wrens looked
immaculate in the early morning sunshine. There was no sign of the tiredness
they had experienced after last nights party as their enthusiasm for their new
adventure meant they could go with very little sleep. So far the war for them
had seemed like a party. The clear warm air of the Mediterranean made such a
difference to the drab smoke shrouded bomb induced danger of London and Plymouth
where they had spent their training that it was more like a holiday than actual
war work.
The car was an old Buick of uncertain vintage and obvious luxury. Mr Al Rafiq
had taken a liking to the girls at the party and had generously offered them the
use of his car during their day off to see what he described as the fascinating
ruins out by the coast. The driver was very polite to the tall blonde army
officer and the younger equally pretty Wren officer but he spoke not one word of
English. In fact both the girls (as they were 21 and 19 respectively) had found
all the people that they had met so far pleasant and had dispelled the fear of
maiden aunts, raised on the racy literature of the Edwardians, fears that all
Arabs were just waiting for the first opportunity to drag white women off into
their Harems.
The coast road was as spectacular as any road they had ever seen. The road dived
into cuttings one minute where shear walls disappeared into the sky and a chill
from the burning sun came as quickly as you entered the shadow to precipitous
cliff top roads that the Buick handled with comfortable aplomb. Despite not
speaking any English other than please and thank you the driver kept up a
running commentary the whole way. Despite the driver's obvious skill the two
girls were glad when the car pulled up at a huge defensive stone gateway in a
wall that stretched to the steep hills on either side.
Jessica and Allison dismounted from the car and walked towards the ruins. The
driver intimated that he would stay with the car and they were glad that he
wouldn't be with them, with his enthusiastic but unintelligible commentary. Both
women were wearing their uniforms but wished that military procedure had allowed
them to wear more summery dresses. This was for two reasons, firstly they were
on active service so they were supposed to be in uniform and secondly the local
Islamic leaders under great duress had agreed not to object to Allied service
women flouting religious dress codes as long as they were in uniform. Both women
were wishing that they weren't wearing the heavy serge and stockings of their
uniforms but neither wanted to enrage the authorities so shortly after arriving
in the country. However both were yearning for the moment they got to the far
side of the ruins were there was a secluded bay for swimming and they could
change into their bathing costumes and dive into the cool waters of the sea.
Both were classically educated young ladies from very good schools, indeed their
education had been far more geared to giving them interesting conversation with
which to attract a husband rather than preparing them for the life of conflict
that had coincided with their coming of age. But their schooling did mean that
they could look around the roman ruins with a trained eye as they wondered at
the ancient architecture. After an hour or so walking in their somewhat
impractical shoes which their officer status granted a two inch heel, Jessica in
her brown lace ups and Allison in her Black court pumps a small Arab man
appeared out of a door way wearing a tatty suit and a hat bearing the word
'porter' embroided under a fine layer of desert dust.
'Ladiezz', He motioned the doorway he had just left, 'Pleazze Ladiezz very
interesting, a shilling, very interesting Ladiezz.' At first they didn't know
what he was talking about but when they looked up they saw the large stone
phallus hanging out over the doorway.
'The randy little sod wants us to see the knocking shop.' Giggled Jessica.
Allison looked shocked but giggled too. 'Well shall we?' Both girls feigned
shock but they were both fascinated by sex as only virgins can be. Ladies of
their class and especially officers weren't supposed to think about such things
but then who would ever find out. They handed the attendant a handful of local
coins and he beamed at them, handed them a torch and motioned them inside.
They entered the Atrium of the building and used the torch to look at the
paintings around the walls. They both giggled girlishly as they realised that
the walls were decorated with a sort of menu of the services offered. Each
painting despite being faded by the centuries depicted a variety of sexual
excesses with roman looking men and North African looking women. The two girls
were having difficulty understanding why so much variety was needed as the only
talks they'd had were of the lie back and think of England variety and they both
felt a strange arousal as they saw the women in the pictures enjoying themselves
as much as the men. Indeed at least one frieze showed female patrons enjoying
the establishment's hospitality.
The frieze led to the end of the atrium and they went through a door into what
was obviously the business end of the brothel and again they giggled to the
attendants delight as they looked at the small rooms and the tiny beds that the
girls had to perform on.
'They would never have fitted you in here!' Allison teased Jessica about her six
foot statuesque build.
'But you would have made an ideal Latin tart.' retorted Jessica who had always
been self conscious about her height. Indeed the only advantage that she'd found
was that ATS stores had no uniform to fit her so she'd had hers tailored and
somewhat snugger and more flattering than most. At the end of the hall with the
boudoirs they passed through another door into a second more opulent but smaller
atrium.
Here their heels clicked on a mosaic floor that simply showed a picture of a
huge cage. And the murals were different too. They showed Roman soldiers with
drawn swords and galleons but also women naked and in chains being led to the
ships. The two girls shocked but strangely titillated looked closer and saw that
the women were mostly white with blue, green and grey eyes, fair, blonde or red
hair and they realised that they were slaves taken by conquest from around the
Latin Empire. Some of the women were also depicted in crowns or jewellery
showing them as women of high birth. They didn't look at the next set of murals
for long; they soon grew uncomfortable as the pictures showed the women still
chained being abused. One showed a blonde woman chained spread eagled on a bed
as a man used her sex and a large black man shoved his phallus in her mouth.
Another depicted a small roman man in gowns of office flogging a red haired
slave fastened into a set of stocks again as a grinning Negro defiled her mouth.
Some didn't show sexual activity at all just poor slaves once of high status
being physically abused and again it was sometimes women doing the defiling.
The girls left quickly, their disgust obvious to the attendant as they handed
him back the torch. He laughed like a drain as soon as they were gone. These
despicable white whores need to learn their place he thought.
The two girls were glad to be out of the damp musty air of that horrible brothel
and hurried through the rest of the ruins to the sea. They felt dirty, they
needed to swim to feel clean again.
