Chapter 23

Once the two black women had finished their fun, they withdrew from the room leaving Carol still clutching the edges of the table and sobbing quietly to herself. "Stop that snivelling," snapped the remaining officer, "and stand up straight!" After a struggle, Carol managed to do as she had been told and, as she stood there before him, she wiped away the tears from her cheeks with the back of her hand. "That's better," he complimented. "Now, I need to report to my superiors and give them my recommendations with regard to what we do with you. It strikes me that we have three options - you can face charges here or we can send you back to Britain to face charges there or we can simply let you go. Needless to say, I know which option you'd pick but it's not up to you, now is it? In the meantime, you'll be transferred to M'Chikaba Woman's Prison and held there. Luckily for you, you rate special treatment - solitary confinement."

"That's special... ?" mocked a still tearful Carol.

"Very much so. The other prisoners would just love to have a white woman to play with; there's still a lot of resentment against the old colonial powers, you know. And, not only is M'Chikaba the largest women's prison in the whole of this part of Africa, it's also the largest brothel."

"Brothel?" asked a puzzled Princess.

"Of course. All those interned women with no option as to what they do. The Governor's got a really nice little business going there. He's one of the richest men in the country now... and his staff the happiest. Did you know that there's a three year waiting list to be transferred to work there? No, I guess you don't... and I'd also guess that you don't give a damn about it..."

"But... that all that must be illegal..."

"I told you before," the officer sighed, "there's no such thing as human rights here. Besides, as I already hinted, the Governor pays his staff extra and allows them certain fringe benefits... and declares his income for tax purposes... even the customers are happy so everyone gains. Who's going to object?"

"The women?" suggested Carol.

"They lost the right to object when they were arrested. Just like you. Now, let's get you ready for transportation." Moving to the door, the officer rapped loudly on it twice and the two women that were so intimately known to Carol returned carrying a small bundle and a box. Carol instinctively shied away from them until the male officer snapped out an instruction for her to stay were she was. Marigold then tossed the soft bundle down in Carol's lap. Taking the hint, the white woman opened it up to discover that it was a simple sleeve of cloth with a hole cut for her head to pop through and two further holes for her arms. In colour, the garment was bright orange with black strips. The box was then opened and a cheap pair of plastic sandals removed. Carol dressed and quickly realised that any escaped prisoner either had the choice of running about like some sort of demented, overgrown bumble bee or trying an escape stark naked. "Right," announced the man, "Let's get you to the transport..."

The streets were quiet and dark as Samantha walked home from her local pub. She'd had a couple of drinks and a friendly chat with some of the other regulars; nothing special, just an ordinary night out. Faced with the choice of cutting through the park or taking the longer way round the outside, Samantha opted to save her legs; she wasn't worried for she was a police officer, well trained in how to handle herself...

As she walked down the winding path, Samantha's ears alerted her to the fact that she was being followed; glancing over her shoulder, she spotted two shadowy figures closing in purposely upon her. Picking up her pace, yet still trying to give an impression of confidence, Samantha pressed on... only to spot another pair of figures approaching from the front. Trapped between the two pairs, Samantha took to the grass and started to walk quickly away and off into the darkness. The figures immediately broke into a run and moved after her. Samantha picked up her pace again and was soon running flat out... but those who were following had the advantage in that they only had to run an intercept course and one of them soon brought the off duty policewoman down with a flying rugby tackle. As Samantha rolled over ready to defend herself, one of the track-suited figures stood over her, smiled down nastily and said, "Evening, Sammy. Going somewhere?"

"Fiona? Is that you... ?" replied a rather worried Samantha, her stomach turning over in fear.

"I want a little word with you, you bitch!" snared down Fiona at the prone figure before her. Samantha tried to crawl backwards away from the threat only to discover that the other figures had moved in on her and had cut her avenue of retreat off. "I want to know why you destroyed Ian's career... and then I'm going to make you pay!"

"What... what are you going to do to me?"

"I'm going to take some of your pretty looks away from you..." hissed Fiona.

"No!" screamed Samantha, shaking her head.

Fiona smiled at the other figures, now all revealed to be muscular, young black women. "Sammy here is really quite vain. Take away this so-called beauty from her and she'll be so devastated. But we're getting ahead of ourselves... first of all I want to know why..."

The white woman shook her head. "I... I can't tell you!"

"Oh, I'm sure you can..." hinted Fiona darkly.

Half an hour later, Fiona wasn't so sure about that. Whatever - or rather, whoever - Samantha was afraid off, they held more terror for her than anything that Fiona and her 'sisters' could do to her. Fiona looked down at the wreck of a woman laying at her feet and almost felt something like compassion. Blood trickled out of the corners of the white woman's mouth and both her eyes were puffy and darkening and in the first stages of going black. Clumps of her hair had been chopped out of her scalp and her blouse was torn, her one exposed breast showing bright, angry blisters where the glowing tips of cigarettes had been applied to the soft skin. As one of the sisters kicked Samantha in the side, Fiona came to a decision. "Enough!" she called out before bending down and lifting Samantha's head. "You're not going to tell me, are you?"

Samantha shook her head. "No," she slurred through bloated and bleeding lips.

"Very well. We'll leave that. But these's something you're going to do tomorrow - you're going to resign from the force. We don't want lying little slags like you working with honest folk like us. And if you don't, we'll be waiting for you again and we'll keep doing this over and over until the message gets through to you. And, of course, you have no idea who did this to you, now do you? You understand all this?"

Samantha nodded her head slowly and painfully.

Fiona turned her attention to the women with her. "Right - tie her wrists behind her and then dump her like the trash she is!"

Carol lay on the hard wooden bench that she had been provided with in her cell, fast asleep despite a low wastage bulb still burning in its socket close to the ceiling for she was both emotionally and physically shattered. In fact, she was so deeply asleep that she never heard the door being unlocked and opened... nor did she hear her male interrogator moving to her side before simply standing there, looking down upon her. After a few moments he carefully bent and lifted the hem of her prison uniform up, exposing her snatch to his view. Again he paused and admired the view of the white cunt laid out before him as his penis began to respond to the stimulation it was being presented with. Bending even lower, the man leant forward, studiously avoiding any contact with the sleeping woman, his nose hovering only inches above her pussy as he breathed in her womanly odours before savouring them like the connoisseur he was. Straightening up, he slowly lowered his fly, pulling himself free before starting to slowly stroke his cock while his breathing rate increased as he fantasised about raping the woman before him as he had many of the other prisoners who had passed through his hands. But this woman was different - and not only because she was the first white woman he'd arrested - but also because she was a member of the royal family. True, the hows and whys of how she had achieved this status were dubious to say the least, but she retained the title legally, at least for the moment. Suddenly realising that he'd allowed himself to go too far, distracted as he was by his thoughts and that he had tipped himself over the edge, the man frantically pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and deftly managed to catch his most of his load in it as it exploded out of his prick. Sighing in relief that he'd manage to get away with his act of masturbation without waking the Princess, the man tidied himself up before leaving and locking the door behind him. Back in the cell, Carol rolled onto her side, unconsciously pulled her uniform back into place over herself with an unknowing hand...