SANDS OF FATE
A swirling wake of gritty dust billowed as the lorry rumbled along the
two-lane asphalt as it left the outskirts of Shiberghan. Under the flapping tarp
covering the jarring truck bed huddled three tribesmen with their blindfolded
passenger Cicely Thomas-Wright, the youngest, and many would allege, most
fetching foreign correspondent posted by the BBC.
Only 24, Thomas-Wright ambitiously lobbied her London bosses for the
assignment. In the end, gender politics and plain old programming savvy granted
her wish. A producer and camera technician were to be her team as they covered
the influx of refugees flooding Jowzjan. Before leaving home, Cicely dyed her
naturally blonde hair and cut it short. She made sure to pack only loose
trousers and tops. Where she was headed had very strict policies regarding
women. Offending local customs by otherwise announcing her sex would quash
chances for what she knew to be a career any reporter would die for-male or
female. Getting separated from the two men in her crew at the Shiberghan Hilton
was a judgment call and price to be paid. The tribesmen had promised her an
interview with a local noble only if she came by herself. She bid the others
with her goodbye and left with only her tape recorder. The young woman felt
proud of making such a major decision on her own.
The blindfold, the one who spoke broken English explained as they
boarded the lorry and took seats on the truck benches, was necessary because
where they were headed was a secret location. Despite the explanation, the dirty
handkerchief felt peculiar as it was tied over her eyes. She worked at peeking
out its bottom. The late-afternoon sun burned alkaline out-crops. Fewer shanties
appeared as they departed the capital's city limits. The cloth itched across the
bridge of her nose, but Cicely jostled with the others as they sped along the
highway and dared to not use her fingers to scratch and maybe giveaway what
sight she had. The one who seemed to be the leader and spoke the most English
said over the rumbling noise, "Won't be too much longer..."
Cicely nodded as he spoke and supported her balance with both hands on
the bench as the lorry yawed and plunged off the highway. From the new rattles
and what she could see under the blindfold, they had taking a turn off the
highway and now roared down a gravel road. She focused on remembering her
present company. The one who spoke said his name was Ali Ahmed. He was the only
one with a long beard and wore a fairly clean looking disdasha and checkered
kaffiyeh. The others were younger, bareheaded, wore just mustaches and their
long shirts and loose trousers looked filthy back at the hotel. Second thoughts
about leaving her own for this trip with strangers tried to push her nerves. "We
are almost arrived."
Cicely felt the lorry slow. The young correspondent jolted forward as it
braked hard. From what she could see under the blind the low-slung buildings
back around Shiberghan were no longer in sight.
"Here we are," Ali Ahmed said as he took Cicely's hand in his and led
her to the tailgate. "It is I who will help the lovely British lady down to the
ground." Planting her boots on the desert soil, Cicely was led through gates and
into a settlement some four miles square. Past the entrance, Ali Ahmed removed
her blindfold. She squinted. Despite it being late afternoon, the sudden burst
of light was a shock. Temporarily blinded, Cicely looked around her. Everything
appeared a bright, but yellowed, ivory. She stood in an entrance courtyard.
Sprouting out were alleyways separating low dusty buildings constructed of
little more than corrugated tin and old wood. Behind them appeared more
shanties. Cicely questioned Ali Ahmed. "Where are all of the people?" There were
none in sight. Nor did she see the other two from the truck. She rubbed her sore
eyes more. Through her fingers she saw Ali Ahmed only smile. The back of his
long shirt rustled as it led away toward the entrance.
BILL OF SALE...
"Hey, what about that interview you promised? You can't just walk away
like that!" Cicely cried out as she yanked at the retreating leader's sleeve.
Ali Ahmed was not going to be pulled around by some lowly female,
however special this one might appear. Grudgingly, he reversed his tracks. To
save face, he pretended as though the move was entirely of his own choosing and
with a thin smile slowly removed two pages from his vest. "You may wish, Miss
Thomas-Wright, to peruse these papers. According to them, you no longer have any
say."
Cicely angrily snatched the facsimiles away from Ali Ahmed's brown hand.
The second page was no less shocking than the first. She stared in disbelief at
her own bio, complete with photo. Page Two was an anatomical chart so intimately
detailed it even mentioned the tiny mole behind her left thigh. Her jaw dropped
as she read the papers. On print she read eyes-green; height-5'7;weight-114lbs.;
measurements-34-22-34;blonde;etc. The measurements weren't metric but it didn't
take much to calculate their correctness. Emblazoned across both sheets was huge
block letters reading, "SOLD". She looked up to Ali Ahemd as if he held an
explanation.
"Look to the bottom where it says Buyer. You might also be interested in
the price. We certainly were." Frantically, she tore to the first page and
sought the references. There was a name, a Mr. Hiro Ghasaki. Next to the name
was a figure entered of 4 million U.S. "Yes, indeed, Mr. Ghasaki is a good
customer, but you were something special. He wanted a unique gift for his
mistress." Ali Ahmed smile displayed a cracked front tooth. He considered the
worried lines crossing the pretty face before him. "I understand that his
mistress is quite beautiful. He is a very lucky man. Unfortunate for you though,
this concubine has a nasty habit of collecting human skins while their owners
are still alive." He paused to let his words sink in. "Mr. Ghaski was most
specific about what he referred to as a "peaches and cream complexion". Just
like yours, I believe. Looking at you, I am sure that our customer will be most
pleased."
"Buggers! You can't be serious", Cicely stammered as she wadded up the
sheets and tossed them down.
"Oh but we are, Miss Thomas-Wright." Ali Ahmed winked at his brothers
who sauntered to his side. "Of course, as long as we don't spoil the goods, Mr.
Ghasaki said nothing about my brothers and I first breaking in his newest
acquisition."
Cicely cast her sweated brow at the newcomers. The three blocked her
exit. Her only escape was to flee back into the settlement. "Screw you!" She
screamed and ran as fast as she could to get away from the three. Somewhere in
the camp there must be safety...
SANDS OF FATE, PT 3
"...stand with me, together there is nothing we cannot accomplish." The
words from Prince Saningdum in 2541 AD, used as a mantra from fellow competitors
on the Muay Thai circuit back home, were more useful now than ever. Cicely would
need to team all of her speed and agility to escape. Training back in public
school that started with Tae Kwan Doe led to kick boxing competition trophies.
The past was again needed.
She ran.
Over her shoulders, Cicely saw the three split up Ahead beckoned a
fourth alleyway set between two blockhouses. Knees flying, the young journalist
sprinted for the opening.
Past the first three buildings came a dead end. Checking behind, the
first of the three entered the street. Cicely hurriedly looked to her left.
Jumping on a pile of rubbish, she crawled onto the top. Flat roofs were all
around. Running to the far side, one leap landed her onto the next rooftop. The
alley bellow was narrow and the jump easy. Across the way, she saw the head of
one of them appear. Her feet barely touched the roof as she tore across its
surface. Landing on the third building, Cicely got up from one knee and ran as
fast as she could to near the next rooftop.
Her heart pounded. She wiped her mouth with her jacket sleeve, gauged
the distance and jumped. While still in the air she knew her landing would not
be the same as the others. The far roof looked much more dilapidated. It wasn't
even made of the same cinder block, many gaps streaked through the weathered
wood.
She crashed through on landing. Timbers crumbled. Cicely looked up. The
newly opened ceiling showed a cloudy sky. She gritted her teeth and took a step.
Pain shot through the ankle she had landed on. Through the scattered dust and
debris, she stepped to the old curtain that served as the hovel's front door. Up
and down the alley, it appeared quiet.
An arm reached around her throat from behind. Remembering her martial
arts, Cicely shifted her weight and executed a kep, or push kick rearward. She
heard a man groan. Swiveling, Cicely saw that her opponent was someone new:
there were more of them! The older man bent at the waist. Pulling a fistful of
his long beard, Cicely threw him into the shattered timbers. Using elbow strikes
and punches, the man crumbled. Cicely limped out into the alley and turned
right.
Favoring her sprained ankle, she covered the distance as fast as she
could. Turning the corner of a shanty, she saw three new strange faces. They
just stood at the dead end: arms crossed and merely looking at her. Reversing,
Cicely almost crashed into Ali Ahmed. Behind him stood his two goons.
"Very good, Miss British Journalist," he said coolly, despite the beads
of sweat. Obviously, Ahmed and his men were feeling the heat too. "Now, however,
I believe its time to divest you of the rest of your things."
Cicely looked down at her bare right arm. The sleeve had torn in her
scuffle with the old man in the shanty. She just now noticed it.
"You heard me, Miss. There are too many of us."
Arms from behind tore off the rest of her jacket. She gripped the
sweat-stained tank. More same arms pulled her hands free. She glared back as
Ahmed simply stood there smiling. She let them tear away the flimsy top leaving
only her sports bra. "My brothers will let you do the rest...NOW!"
Narrowing her eyes, Cicely felt behind her back. The hooks snapped free.
She slid off one shoulder strap and then the other. Her skin felt flush and she
wasn't sure if it was the baking heat or being made to get naked. "I said to
STRIP. You may leave on your shoes and socks. Oh," Ali Ahmed stoked his beard as
he eyed the lovely woman before him. "And because you are apparently already
bought and paid for, from now on you will be called the slave you really are.
Got that, slut?"
One of the settlement buildings apparently was a school. Cicely ached.
She was stretched between the bars of a aged swing set. Slightly bowed toward
the ground, she was suspended by leather cuffs attaching each wrist and ankle to
the A-frame. "What are you going to do, bastard? Let me out of here this
minute!"
"Hush, my sweet." The sight of the stripped female rushed blood through
his veins. Nodding at the dozen faithful, he said, "Enjoy, my brothers." Ali
Ahmed took a comfortable vantage point in the shade of a wall.
Cicely first heard, then felt the presence of a man maneuver so that he
was behind her. At the touch of his fingers around her arse, she clinched. The
probing continued between her tightened cheeks. A thicker probe followed.
Ali Ahmed giggled with those around him. All plugged their ears in
fruitless attempts to block out the screams. He watched the white body seemingly
recoil from the penetration by one of his soldiers. The screams rent the dessert
air. Only when they died down somewhat, did Ali Ahmed and those around him dare
to lower their fingers. He watched as the man came, and then applauded. Cicely
gasped. She had never before been sodomized. It felt as though her entire body
split. Her head hung down. Sweat dripped down her face. She forced air into her
lungs. Behind her she saw the horrid man leaving. Another replaced his position.
She screamed, again, though not as loudly. Hurt fired her insides.
Distracting her, she felt her hair pulling. As her head rose, she saw the
largest penis ever before her very eyes. More hair pulled. The cock entered her
mouth. Her eyes bulged. Arching her head, the cock moved into her throat. Spots
danced in her head. Ali Ahmed stood away from the coolness of the wall and
approached the converted swing set. The blonde's eyes were rolling back into her
head as she swallowed the huge member. Her sweaty face was already purplish.
"Better learn to breath through your nose, slut." Cicely heard his voice as if
in a distance. Her eyelids blinked. She tried to inhale and exhale through her
nostrils. The overpowering stench of the man assaulting her was ignored."That's
it. Even though Jovahn is a bit large," Ali Ahmed paused to joke with the
others. "You are looking better already. Now breathe slut."
All except for the elated Ali enjoyed the British female at least once.
Her screams turned to cries. The naked back already looked sunburned. Ali
consulted with his wristwatch. "Time to go inside, brothers. The U.S. has their
satellite flying over in about ten minutes so it is best if we get out of
sight."
The secret passageway led to more of a bunker than cellar. The men and
the lone woman navigated the short flight of steps underground. Cicely was
placed on a metal table. The female groggily offered no resistance. Her boots
and socks were removed, hands and ankles left free. Cool water cleaned her
saturated orifices. She was given drink. A small incline raised her head and
upper torso.
"Are you still with us...Cicely?" She moaned and rolled her head from
side to side. Through parted lashes, she saw Ali Ahmed standing at the far end
of the table she was on.
"I think our television star is once more awake. If you please?"
Bright light blared into her eyes from where Ahmed stood. She could not
see him, but heard his even voice. "Yes, Cicely slut. Your cameraman back at the
hotel gave us all of his equipment. Wasn't that nice of him? And Jovahn, well
you remember Jovahn...he is trained in its operation." Cicely groaned and licked
her salty lips. She still could not get rid of the taste left behind by the men.
Not to mention, the dark memories. "What we need for you now to do is...well
British slut, you know how to pleasure yourself, don't you?"
Ali Ahmed moved away from the camera's light and loudly proclaimed,
"ACTION!" As an aside he muttered, "I think our slut is ready."
SANDS OF FATE, PT 4
In her dazed recollection, Cicely had been on this side of the cameras
many times, though never as this. "You are doing well, British slut..." Murmurs
of the tribesmen agreeing with Ali Ahmed were heard from her tabletop position.
Cicely brought her knees up. The soles of her feet rested on the cool metal
edge. She laid her head on its side. Tearfully, she tried to lose herself from
her current surroundings as her fingers played over tender lips. Cicely closed
her eyes and dreamed of faraway places.
One of his brothers whispered to him as his vision remained fixed on the
glossy vulva so brightly lit. "No, my friend," Ali Ahmed whispered in his native
tongue. "True, if slut was your chattel, then of course her genitals must be
castrated. For now, though, all remains: the thin strip of hair, the labia and
the clitoris. That is what her buyers wish."
Cicely dreamily rubbed her clit. Much of the men's cum remained a
foreign intrusion, but she also knew her own body well. It too responded as she
knew it would. Her fingers felt slippery.
"Now, please, British slut," Ali Ahmed said to the figure with her legs
now obscenely parted. "Place this in your hole." He saw the woman blink her eyes
open as he handed forth the slender microphone, being sure that the wire
connecting it to the camera was not tangled. Pleased that her glossy fingers
readily clutched it, he stood back and continued to watch.
In the darkness the silhouette of Jovahn could be seen. Ali Ahmed made
out his brother's index circle and close to touch his thumb. Other fingers went
up. It was the signal that the audio was working. "Place the recording on
speakers, Jovahn. All of us should hear the noises this sloppy slut makes." Just
after he spoke, the room sloshed with churning wetness.
Hours later, Cicely stirred. She still lay upon the hard table with the
incline, but the bright lights were turned off. Her gaze fell to one
outstretched arm. It looked so pale. It also felt too heavy to move
"This will help you for your journey, my sweet." Ali Ahmed's vision
swirled as he stood over her side. She let him swab the middle of her arm. It
felt cool. She also saw the syringe he held. "Never mind....it will not hurt.
This is only a sedative. It will help you sleep." She felt the tiny prick on her
arm. Almost immediately, Cicely's eyes closed in a sound sleep she would not
awaken from until somewhere in the FarEast.
"My name is Rina Funabashi, DOCTOR Funabashi, but you may just call me
Rina." Cicely's head pounded. Her entire body ached. She tried to move but could
not. She was on another table. This one also had a slight incline, but she felt
paper scratch over padding under her. She shivered. "Yes, it is cold in here,"
The tall Asian said as her fingertips lightly caressed the erect nipple on the
white woman's chilled right breast. "But that's how we need to keep it for our
particular activities." Cicely groaned. Next to her table stood a beautiful
woman whose shiny black hair cascaded over her padded white coat. "Let me tell
you a few things, Cicely." Her dark red lips thinly spread. "Or, should I just
call you...slut?" Cicely felt nauseas. She adverted her head and did not answer.
"Very well, then. Have it your way and don't say a peep... for now. But
do listen. You have been flown to a very isolated area of Japan in the Fukushima
Prefecture. It is true, I am an accredited physician - a surgeon, actually, a
board certified plastic surgeon. That means, I know what I am doing," Rina
chuckled as her fingers slightly pressed, then released pressure on the breast.
Pleased at the flesh's firmness, she continued, "In more ways than one..."
Cicely let Rina continue her lecture, only half listening. She blocked
from her mind most of the desert attack, but could not ignore the other woman's
fingers. They too felt cold. Unable to move from where she was held, Cicely
could only lay back as another fondled her. The room she was in was all white.
Operating theatre lights glowed from above.
"And, my precious slut," Rina paused, bent lower. Her hair fell over as
her lips covered Cicely's. "Yum-yummm... Anyway, as I was saying," She
straightened her thick lab coat and stood again, slowly licking her lips and
once more tasting the girl. "I know what I am doing." Cicely's eyes flashed and
she spat back at the towering other.
"Oh, and what's that, perve?!"
Anger darkened Rina's face. Her hand swung out and she slapped Cicely
hard across the cheek. Rina turned away and took another swig of the warmed
sake. "As I was saying...SLUT...The good news is that I know what I am doing.
What do I mean by that, you stinking whore?"
Fresh tears welled under Cicely's lids. Her cheek burned. By the sound
of Rina's voice, the woman in the lab coat was now really pissed.
"Open your eyes, slut. I said...OPEN!"
Cicely peeked. Rina stood arms akimbo. Cicely opened her eyes wider.
"That's better. Tell me. Do you think that I am beautiful?"
Cicely didn't know what to say.
"Well, do you?"
She nodded her head in the affirmative.
"Good. Then you'll be happy to know that I am also very smart.
Questions?"
Cicely trepidly nodded her aching head. In a small voice she asked,
"...what's going to happen to me?" She braced for the answer she feared most.
Rina grimly smiled. Pulling away her long hair she leaned down close to
Cicely's ear. "I will tell you, but," her fingers stroked Cicely's shorn brown
hair. "Can you tell me why you colored this from your natural blonde?" Cicely
blinked more tears from her eyes and whispered that she was on an assignment and
to avoid upsetting local cultures she cut her hair and dyed it brown. "Thank
you. Now I understand." Rina rose and brought over a bowl. She began to wash
Cicely's locks. Cicely stopped crying and closed her eyes. Rina's fingers felt
good as they massaged her scalp. The rinse felt warm and air from the blow dryer
even warmer. Her shivers returned as soon as the job was done.
Rina's head came so close to Cicely's ear that Cicely imagined the other
woman's heat. "You look much lovelier as a blonde."
Cicely risked asking her question again.
Rina stepped back and poured herself another small glass of sake. "For a
variety of reasons," She turned back to the blonde nude and examined her own
fingernails. "I collect human skins."
Cicely shivered again as she heard the matter of fact message.
"Yours will be my next addition."
Cicely gasped and fought the binds securing her wrists and ankles.
"And, before you freak out... Let me tell you of the process..." Rina
set down the cup and placed both of her hands on the table alongside Cicely's
arm. "As I said before, I am very good with what I do. Saline implants, just
like those in real life, will make your chest swell as it is mounted on a wall
in my room. Same with your other curves"
Cicely felt her stomach twisting as she heard the voice coolly continue.
"Of course, I do my own taxidermy. Because I love what I do so much,
even the earlier stages. An IV will be given to keep you bright and chipper. The
cold temperature in this special room will help lessen any bleeding. I have no
use for your hands, feet or head after your demise, so they are destroyed. To
ensure proper cuts, I use only the finest surgical scalpels. You'll be happy to
know their sharpness also alleviates your pain to an extent, of course."
Cicely felt herself beginning to cry again. Sobs racked her body as the
hot tears flowed.
"And these," Rina looked at the two pills in her palm. "Well, these are
two aspirins I want you to take. They are laced with codeine and that helps the
subject some. Unfortunately, the codeine dosage is low and will last only for a
little while. But, it's something, right?"
Cicely fought the straps holding her, but it was no use.
"Ready? Here we go."
She felt to fingers pinching her nostril shut, her mouth opened and the
two pills tossed down her throat. She closed her eyes and tried to relax.
SANDS OF FATE, PT 5
"So...is this what My Precious wanted for her birthday?"
Rina jumped at the male voice and pivoted away from the modern metal
rack Cicely onto which was nicely stretching. "Hiro-san! Domo arrigatooo-you
know where!" She turned back to the stretched nude hanging face down and dropped
the marking pen. "She has the loveliest epidermis of them all!" She slapped the
shiny rump and then ran to hug his girth's arrival into her special theatre.
She brushed loosened strands back in place. The up-do was more fitting
for the delicious task soon to be at hand. Her heart beat in anticipation. Gone
also was the thick lab coat. Heaters had been turned up for almost an hour.
"Kind sir. You have given me such a treat. Please understand: This one is in
such fine form, I do not wish for her to be compromised by hypothermia. She
should live through it all. But given the epithelial structures awaiting, uhm...
removal, she needs her warmth to stay alive."
"Oh. I understand, I guess. But, why don't you just speak something we
can both understand, instead of that medical babble?" Ghasaki chuckled as he
lifted the sake bottle only to find it empty. "I should hope that despite your
"gift", we are going to do...you know "what" before you get underway."
"Of course, kind sir! I was just referring to her creamy skin."
"Then cover your lovely skin with a doctor's coat. I should think it
only proper for you to also satisfy your man's fantasy. I've always wanted to
screw an M.D."
"As you wish, uhm, Patient-san". Rina giggled as she leapt into the
role. Without its heavy lining, the coat she wore over her bare shoulders was
much more free. She jiggled inside of it. To accessorize, she grab a stethoscope
and hung it behind her neck. Leaving the coat open showed plenty of the enhanced
cleavage, and given her long legs, the lab coat's bottom hem ended just above
her knees. The starchy material tickled. Shivers of excitement pranced.
"Very good, Doctor Rina," Ghasaki said as he removed his suit jacket.
"Stand with your back to me and between that other woman's legs."
"Wait! Watch this rack. It can turn on its axis. I'll turn her over and
show you." She moved the IV tubing connected to the back of the Cicely's hand
and began to rotate the grid-marked body on the metal frame.
"Why's that needle in her?"
"Just to keep a vein open. Right now, it is only dripping a dilute
solution of phenylephrenine to help with the bleeding. Later we will have to use
stimulants."
The room spun. Cicely's head swung with the rest of her, but this time
when the motion stopped, her head hung backwards. Her neck strained. The far
wall looked upside down. Lucidity returned as the sedatives lost their strength.
Blinking helped more, but the room still looked topsy-turvy. The pull of the
rack made joints feel ready to pop. Breathing came in quick shallow spurts. Her
short hair fell from her face. Despite tries, there was no way to raise her
head. Neck muscles quit. Mouth open, her head hung slack and facing the far
wall.
Rina stood between the slightly splayed legs and admired Cicely's form.
The bitch lay stretched as tight as any drum. She felt Ghasaki positioning
behind her and thought of how fat, bald and ugly he was .At least he was rich
enough to indulge her. Between the legs sliced the narrow strip of light brown
hair and what treasures Cicely would unfold. Labia minora might not have sweat
glands, Rina smiled to herself, but she fortunately knew of other ways to get
them wet.
Lifting up the back edge of her coat, she used her other hand to guide
Hiro into her own steaming juices. Feeling his small dick slide in, she bent
forward. Placing each hand just above Cicely's knees, Rina felt the quadriceps
on the legs flinch. The tip of her tongue found the British woman's mons. She
glanced at the pale twin mounds with their nipple summits, the pulled torso, and
slowly concentrated on savoring the other woman's hot flesh. Rina's
almond-shaped eyes closed as the short man behind her took her. She sliced her
tongue between the molten lips. Sounds emitted from all three.
She stood as Ghasaki finished. Grabbing a small sponge from a steel
table, Rina wiped herself of the trickling cum. With the nail of her thumb, she
gently lifted up Cicely's hood. Planning ahead, Rina decided it best to bisect
the shining organ. She let it be covered again, and then turned to Hiro. "Thank
you again, Master," Rina said as she slipped to her knees. Taking the wet penis
in her fingers, she licked it clean of juices.
"Peer up at me, slave." Ghasaki waited for the gorgeous Asian to raise
her face and then slapped her cheek. He knew it was what she anticipated.
"Thank you, Master," Rina forced the words from her stinging lips, and
then finished licking clean the organ.
Standing, she straightened her lab coat, bowed slightly, and with eyes
lowered said, "I think it best if you now move to the viewing gallery, Master."
"You are beautiful, Rina," Ghasaki murmured and caressed the slapped
cheek with his hand. "Sure, more than a little kinky, but still a beauty. I will
go and watch as much as I can." He kissed Rina and said, "Enjoy yourself."
Ghasaki left through a door and walked the short flight of stairs to
take a seat as the lone spectator in the glassed-in gallery. Below he saw the
white coated statuesque beauty he had just fucked gather her implements on a
small tray next to the racked British female with lines drawn all over her
equally impressive body. He steeled himself to watch as much of what was to
come.
SANDS OF FATE, CONCLUSION
The wicked stage was set. Tautly stretched between the two anchors,
Cicely lay parallel to the polished floor, her head facing rearward as it hung
back, arms pulled way back behind her. Rina bustled about making last minute
corrections in her preparations. Above both, and separated by a soundproof glass
wall sat Ghasaki, alone in the tiered theatre-style gallery. Only he sat in
relative darkness. Lights flooded the two female participants centered below on
the macabre stage.
Rina mopped her brow free of perspiration one more time. Excitement
caused of the perspirations, but then it also was very hot in the room. By
design. She pulled the stethoscope from her neck and removed the starched lab
coat. Standing only in high heels, she instantly felt better. Leaning her butt
on Cicely's hip, she faced where she knew Hiro sat. Coyly looking up, she cupped
on of her sweating breasts. They might be larger than she wanted, but since Hiro
was picking up the check for her breast enhancements, she let him decide the new
cup size. Watching her reflection in the glass, she raised the brown nipple to
her red lips and playfully circled it with the pink tip of her tongue. He must
be going out of his mind, she thought as her mouth sucked on the large oval and
protruding nipple.
Hiro sat back and watched as the exquisite beauty pleasured herself. For
his benefit, of course. His eyes focused on the luscious breast as he reached
for a cigar in his pocket. Lighting the smoke, he marveled over what a fine
creature she was. The one stretched behind her was a beauty too, but Rina
commanded his attention.
Satisfied that he had been teased enough, Rina patted Cicely's sunken
belly and asked if she was ready.
Rina turned away from the gallery window and selected a scalpel from the
tray. Leaning over Cicely's upper body, she laid the blade on the grid line made
earlier. Beads of bright red replaced the yellow marking as her knife carefully
made a shallow lateral incision from just above the end of one clavicle, to the
next. Reaching under the table for a pile of fiberglass strips, Rina placed one
over the incised wound, measured and then cut it to fit. She then slipped the
thin strip into the wound. Taking a strip of mesh tape, she tore off sections
and then taped the downward flap to the fiberglass.
"How are we doing, Cicely? Your screams sound pretty loud. Tell ya what.
I'm gonna start a stimulant cocktail drip in that IV of yours, okay?"
Cicely gasped for breath. The cut burned a little, but not as much as
she expected. Still, the very notion of being flayed alive was almost
incomprehensible. All she could see of Rina were her naked legs next to her.
Cicely tried not to panic.
Rina adjusted the IV. Hoping the room temp would aide in some sort of
vaso constriction, she began another slice into Malphigan layers. Cutaneous
vessels yielded to the surgical steel as it progressed down the female's flank
She paused as she cut to watch Cicely's neck wildly swing her head. Rina
considered the various nerve endings at the basal level of the epidermis she
must be compromising with her scalpel. "Now try and stay steady, Cicely. For
your own good, that is..."
Rina mopped her brow again. Deciding to keep the female's genitals
intact, she somewhat altered her course. Completing the sectioning of the torso,
Rina stepped back for a rest. "Getting all of this, Hiro?"
Ghasaki feverishly puffed his cigar. As Rina faced where he sat, he
thinly smiled and then turned off the room's P.A. He watched in silence.
Taking the now bloodied fiberglass in both hands, Rina firmly, but
slowly, pulled. When the outermost layer of skin reached the tops of Cicely's
breasts, she took her scalpel. Reaching under the removed skin, her knife
snipped at the mammary glands. That operation completed, she pulled more until
the pelt hung in her hands. "Isn't it pretty, Cicely? I'll just lay it in a warm
solution, and don't worry...later I'll join all of the sections into one. Just
like you, or the way you used to be, sort of," Rina carefully laid the human
sheet in a shallow vat. "Oh," she pretended to look at her watch. "How rude of
me, you must be famished."
Cicely's heart raced. Blood pounded in her temples. Her head lifted and
a wide tube inserted in her mouth. It gagged her and burned her throat.
"We all need nutrition, don't we? This will give you yours. Though a bit
intrusive, the NG tube is for gastro-intestinal nourishment. You'll need yours."
Rina smiled as she taped the tube in place and lowered Cicely's head. She
reached for the modified dermatone. The chromium tool used for skin grafts would
work nicely on Cicely's legs.
"Nice job, Rina."
The tool fell from her hands as she jumped with a start.
"Hiro-san! I hadn't expected you!!!"
Ghasaki looked at the bloody British woman. Starts and twitches shook
fiber elastic connective tissues. Black, tar-like clumps slid from folds of
bright crimson seemingly bubbling up from the raw flesh. What flesh remained
intact shivered. The sight mad him nauseous.
He reached into his coat jacket. Extracting a shiny 9MM, he walked to
where Cicely's head was. He looked down at the shining eyes and the thick tube
stuffing her face. With one fluid motion, Ghasaki leaned down, put the barrel
against her wet forehead, and fired.
"Hey! What did you do that for?" Rina screeched as the report from the
gun blasted the room.
Ghasaki almost gently let Cicely's limp head with the black hole in the
center of its forehead hang and stood to face Rina. Smiling at her tall lushness
as it shook in rage before him, he removed two pieces of paper from inside his
jacket. He held the front sheet up so that Rina could see. "I'm afraid it says
that you have been S-O-L-D, Rina," He put the papers back inside his coat and
smiled to himself: This gesture to Al Ahmed would insure future transactions
much to his favor.
Rina's eyes bulged. Her nostrils flared. She grabbed a bloody knife and
rushed Hiro. "No way!!!"
Ghasaki was ready with the Taser in his other hand. He fired and watched
as tall Rina crumbled. He looked at the fetal position of the exquisite female.
She looked about ready for transport. He'd let Ahmed and his men worry about
cleaning her up.
The End
