Chapter 11 - A sick game

Elena Petrova was nervous about traveling to Turkey, so she spoke to her friend, Vitaly. Vitaly had so far avoided being drafted for Ukraine but was heavily involved in protests against the war.

“Elena, I know of this guy Nikolai Sokolov, but I think he is dead. What if this is some kind of trap?” Vitaly voiced his concerns, his face etched with worry.

“Why don’t you come with me, Vitaly?” Elena suggested, her voice tinged with hope. She was secretly enamored of Vitaly; his presence made her feel safer. She wanted this project to go through so badly, she was blind to any risks. Travelling abroad was a dream, and Turkey seemed so romantic.

Vitaly hesitated for a moment, considering her proposal. “Yes, Elena, I think you need a friend. I just have a funny feeling about this,” he finally agreed, his protective instincts kicking in.

While Elena Petrova was excitedly planning her trip to Turkey, her secret dreams of movie stardom coupled with her motives to stop the war, less pleasant events were unfolding in Pembroke’s compound in southern Turkey.

The Zephyr made another easy entry into Karacask, Turkey, and the cargo was swiftly smuggled aboard a van driven by Jamal and three other men. They drove past the entry gate and the barbed wire, proceeding towards the hangars. Once through the security doors, they were greeted by Mrs. Al-Haraz, who awaited them with a smile. She knelt down, her gaze hardening as she looked at the two girls being dragged along behind the four men.

Sabine and Anna had been in hell for almost a week. Their trek in the mountains had transformed into a kidnapping, into brutal rape then a voyage across the sea and now into a forbidding compound.

The girls, naked, bound, and gagged, walked with cords passed between their ankles, limiting their strides. Their journey from the beautiful lake had just seemed one long descent into hell. At least they were not split up ... yet.

They were shocked to be led into a large cavernous hall, containing a large cell, with clear glass walls, containing 4 naked women. The women gathered at the cell walls placing their hands on the glass, watching the new arrivals.

Sabine and Anna were shocked at the sight of the four frightened girls and the two women leading them, one of them a blond older woman in a mini skirt, and the other a deformed/mutilated Arab woman in a black dress, who leered at them with evil eyes from her scarred face.

Pembroke had changed into his suit, in order to provide a theatrical introduction. The girls cowered in silence at the evil monster’s return.

“Ah ... Miss Muller and Miss Gao, finally we can have a proper introduction! Ladies, you may have known me as Clemence Carnot, or Philippe Pain, but in reality, I am Edward Pembroke! The name may well be famous in years to come, as the procurer of beautiful girls from the world of fun and liberty, to the wealthy men of the world willing to pay a fortune for young female flesh!”

Pembroke smiled as he surveyed his audience. The grinning men, the sombre overseers and the shivering girls.

“These other girls are probably tired of hearing this speech. But it is important that you hear it. You girls are the most valuable asset on earth. Wealthy men will pay vast sums of money to own you. To hide you from the world. To own your life more than you do. To be able to eat you, to kill you, to do anything with you.”

“I Edward Pembroke have opened up the first genuine company that caters to the real nature of the super rich how now own the world. They don’t want cars or paintings. They don’t even want wives or prostitute. They want humans to own. Hundreds of years ago, the Khans could demand girls to be tribute and do what they wanted with them, fuck them or sacrifice them. But now all these wealthy men have to be oh-so-careful with their wives and all women. What they will want is bitches like you. Dead to the world. Beautiful, elegant, from good loving families, to be disposed of as they wish, not how you wish. You will be owned by another human, you are no longer fully human. Embrace it! You are the first of a new breed, complete sex slaves!”

“You, Anna Gao, you have been pre-ordered. Someone wanted you, so you have been taken. You, Sabine, your future remains a mystery, but you are beautiful, clever, elegant, there will be some man out there, perhaps some man who has already seen you, maybe your boss who knows? Who has the power and the money, who can choose to take your life from me and have you in his own little world, to do with you what he pleases.”

The two girls were petrified of this madman. Edward Pembroke was crazy. His eyes gleamed with a fanatical light as he spoke, his words sending chills down their spines.

“I am sorry, girls,” he continued, his voice dripping with false sympathy. “I know you think your lives, what you thought would be your lives, would be fun and happy. But the lives I have chosen for you will be among the most select in the world! Elite, among the richest in the world, you will endure pain, misery, and a lot of degradation, but you will be serving the very cream of human existence in a way 99.99% of the world would refuse to do!”

He watched the eyes of the girls open up in horror as his words soaked in. Their breasts heaved with terror, and Pembroke looked at their gorgeous torsos. Anna, with a physique that her fans had perved over through her ski clothes, now naked in front of him, and Sabine, her pure white skin shining with sweat.

“These girls here, I captured them, just like you. You will stay with them. They are being trained.” Pembroke leered at Anna. “Anna, you were always going to be captured, you have been ordered.” He turned to Sabine. “You, on the other hand, Sabine, you are here because I needed a way to kidnap your girlfriend. And not only have I got my target-your girlfriend, I also have you, a new slave! You will be destined for another owner, I will market you and sell you make money and you will end your life serving a rich man. I am sorry, Sabine, you were just too silly, too stupid. But too beautiful to pass up!”

Pembroke strode up to Sabine, menacingly, and ran his finger between her legs, from her anus, through her pussy lips, up past her belly button and then brought it to his own mouth, and sucked. “You had 21 fun years, Sabine. Now the rest of your life will be spent as a sex slave. Your beautiful body will be a plaything. You will be trained to serve, to objectify yourself, to perform the most disgusting tasks that right now, in the dark recesses of your mind, you are thinking won’t happen to you. Surely, you ask yourself, you won’t have to do that? Well, bitch, you will!”

Mrs Al-Haraz had a sixth sense as to her Master’s perversions and stepped forwards to cup Sabine’s pert buttocks.

“I know you little cunts liked to lick each other’s pussies, and don’t worry. You will be licking every pussy you see here, but don’t think that your love for each other means anything to me.”

Pembroke turned to Anna, and lowered his head and bit into her nipples, causing her to squeal. “It is important that you know your place. Sex, and violence. That will be your life now, for the rest of your life. I don’t think you sheltered girls know much of violence at all, and the only sex has been fun, the kind that you allow when you feel safe. But from now on, that will not be the case. Your bodies are now my property and we will do with them what we want, which is mainly to stick her cocks in.”

Pembroke ripped off their gags, The girls coughed, and Sabine shouted. “Let us go, you are all fucking animals Dmitri, let us GOOOO”

Pembroke calmly rolled his arm back, and slapped Sabine across her face with all his might. She was lifted off her feet, and landed on her side with a sickening thud.

“You fucking ANIMAL!” Anna Gao screamed at him. Her lover had been assaulted and she could not bear it. “You leave her alone. You pervert, you won’t get away with this! My family, the police...”

Pembroke raised his arm and struck Anna under her chin, sending her sprawling onto her back. “I have got away with it. You stupid cunts can ask these girls, who is coming to rescue them. You will join them now. I am afraid you fucked up, your deaths have been reported as an accident, they are still looking for your bodies at the bottom of the lake. Here you will be trained to serve the wealthiest men in the most disgusting ways imaginable and will eventually be sent out to a hidden place somewhere else. Listen, Sabine and Anna, whatever you said to your loved ones last, that was the last thing they will hear from you. You will never see your families again! Ever! You will serve men, and you will die, that is just it for you.”

The girls cowered in pain and fear. They looked into the cell at the four sullen naked captives. Sabine was astonished to see the face of Charlotte Spencer, who had been in the news as having been kidnapped weeks ago in Paris. What kind of organization was this?

“Now, Mrs. Parker, I expected a little show from you and Mrs. Al-Haraz. Can we expect it now?” Pembroke’s voice held a sinister edge as he addressed the women.

“Master, if you so desire it. We can hold it now.” Mrs. Parker stood to attention, answering with conviction.

Pembroke smiled. “Excellent, Mrs. Parker. Mrs. Al-Haraz?”

“Yes, Master.” Mrs. Al-Haraz’s voice dripped with determination, matching her rival’s resolve.

“Excellent, why don’t you ladies take your girls out and get them ready! You can go to opposite corners of the hall!” Pembroke commanded, his tone cold and authoritative.

He opened the cell, and the two women led their girls out. Charlotte and Zara sullenly followed Mrs. Parker to one corner of the hall where a table stood, their steps heavy with reluctance. Mrs. Al-Haraz, on the other hand, pulled Fatima and Camille by their arms more aggressively, pushing them towards a table in the opposite corner. Her determination to win, to outshine Mrs. Parker and her girls, was palpable.

Mrs. Parker, maintaining a calm and composed demeanor, brought out the costumes for the girls. She turned to Charlotte and Zara - “Remember, we do this for the Master. Show him your dedication.”

Charlotte and Zara nodded, their faces pale. They knew resistance was futile and that any defiance would only lead to harsher consequences, especially now the Master and the men were here.

Across the hall, Mrs. Al-Haraz barked orders at Fatima and Camille. “Stand straight! We will not lose to them. Now get dressed!”

Fatima and Camille had the same expressions of fear, and disgust at what they were going to do. Mrs. Al-Haraz’s aggressive approach only fuelled their anxiety, but they knew they had no choice but to comply.

Pembroke watched from the center of the hall, his eyes glinting with satisfaction. He relished the control he held over these women and their girls, the power to command and the ability to break them. The hall was silent except for the shuffling of feet and the heavy breathing of the participants.

“While, the girls are getting ready, let us gag Sabine and Anna. We don’t want any outbursts to spoil our viewing. You girls should watch and learn. This what the rest of your lives are going to be like, whether here, or wherever I sell you to.”

The three men helped to gag the girls, running their hands over breasts. Jamal was thrilled at the new additions. He had Anna sitting on his lap on a chair, while Sabine sat on Pembroke’s lap. Kwame and Dmitri sat on another sofa, drinking beers, looking forward to the show.

The atmosphere in the hall grew tense, the air thick with anticipation. Pembroke’s eyes flicked between the two groups, savouring the spectacle of control and obedience as his hands went to Anna’s nipples, tweaking them gently.

Sabine and Anna watched with horror while squirming on the laps of their abusers, trying to deal with the wandering hands. It seemed each team of girls was changing into rather complicated outfits.

The girls put on black leather high-heel boots and then their overseers began securing an intricate BDSM harness around their torsos. The older women tightened the main strap around their midsections, just below the ribcage, securing it with a metal buckle at the front. From this central band, they pulled the shoulder straps over their shoulders, connecting them to the back of the central band, ensuring a tight, supportive fit.

Next, they attached the vertical straps from the central band, guiding them down the smooth stomachs and between the girls’ legs. Each girl gasped as their overseer pulled the straps up tight, eating into their pussies. These straps converged at a point near the lower back, where they fastened another adjustable buckle, creating a secure fit that prevented the harness from shifting. With the harness in place, the overseer attached reins to D-rings at the front and back. The thick, sturdy leather and polished metal buckles gave the harness a durable and visually striking appearance.

Mrs Parker had done both her girls with the harness and looked over nervously at Mrs Al-Haraz’s team. She was still finishing up with Zara on the harness.

“OK girls, you know what is next, just relax and bend over the table.” Mrs Parker whispered the girls. Charlotte and Zara bent down their breasts cushioning against the table. They made brief eye contact with each other, then turned away to face into the table surface, ashamed and humiliated.

Mrs Parker had two little butt plugs with artificial horse hair pluming out. She went to Zara first, spread her cheeks, and worked the strap to one side, until her puckered anus was visible. She leaned in close, and spat at it repeatedly. She put her index finger on it, and wriggled it inside while patting her buttocks as if to console her. Zara grimaced at the finger inside her but knew more was coming. The strap was biting in even more on her pussy lips with it being pulled aside and she wanted it over with.

Mrs Parker put the butt plug in her mouth to lubricate it, and then placed the tip on the center of the sphincter muscle, and pushed in gently. “Come on Zara, open up for me darling!”

Zara grunted and clenched her teeth as she tried to relax her sphincter muscle, finally feeling it enter, expanding inside her, and allowed her ring to close around the end. “There, said Mrs Parker, as she fitted the strap to one side of the butt plug, keeping the taut pressure between her legs but allowing the flamboyant horse hair to flow out. “Now you can thank me for all the practice!”

Mrs Parker had spent hours forcing the girls to obey her and take the butt plugs in their assholes. She was glad, they had screamed in agony for the first few days of it, and could barely walk properly during it or after, no matter how much she licked and fingered the assholes beforehand. But after a week while the Master had been gone, their assholes had now adapted to the butt plugs.

The men laughed and cheered as Zara’s exposed rump now sported a flowing mane. Mrs Al-Haraz noticed that Mrs Parker was ahead of her, cursed and spanked Fatima’s buttocks eliciting a yelp. “Open that fucking asshole, bitch,” she hissed as she angrily licked then stuck two fingers into the tortured hole. She had spent the last week forcing the butt plugs into her girls with gusto, cutting the sphincters to ribbons, drawing blood, and enjoying it. Now, the injured holes were clamping shut, even thought the poor girls were desperate to open their assholes up and get this intrusion over with.

Mrs Parker’s kinder, gentle approach had paid dividends and Charlotte’s little pink anus opened up invitingly after just a few gentle kisses from her overseer. She gently eased the buttplug in, and now both her girls had flamboyant horse tails.

Mrs Parker wondered if the girls would thank her, though. She spent days having to overcome their reluctance, particularly from Charlotte who regarded her as a filthy disgusting scumbag. Pembroke had noted with interest that Charlotte now seemed to sport a faint bruise above her eye, and guessed correctly that Mrs Parker had finally snapped and struck her, telling her it was for her own good. The spoiled little Ms Spencer needed to get used to the new reality. Her future owner might be even more brutal.

She pulled each girl’s arms behind their backs, sliding their arms and hands into the single sleeve so that their limbs were conjoined in one tight, restrictive encasement. As she pulled the sleeve up, she adjusted it to ensure their shoulder blades were pulled together, creating a taut and immobilizing restraint. The tightness of the sleeve forced the girls’ shoulders back, adding to their already submissive posture.

Sabine, sitting on her Master’s lap, saw all this with growing revulsion. She watched as Mrs. Parker meticulously placed the pony girl headdresses on the girls’ heads, securing them tightly under their chins. The sight of the leather straps and the forced, submissive postures made her stomach churn.

Her discomfort turned to horror as Mrs. Parker moved on to the single sleeve black gloves. Sabine’s eyes widened in disbelief as she saw the girls’ arms being pulled behind their backs and slid into the single sleeves, conjoining their arms and hands in a tight, restrictive encasement. The strain on the girls’ faces as their shoulder blades were pulled together and their arms immobilized was almost too much for Sabine to bear. She felt a wave of nausea, a mix of fear and disgust welling up inside her, making her shift uncomfortably on her Master’s lap, which only made his cock harden and jut in between her buttocks through his trousers.

Anna was watching Mrs Al-Haraz being even rougher with her girls, cursing and spanking them for her own mistakes in getting the headdresses on. She dared not look down at the huge round hands of Jamal which were cupping her breasts and scrolling up and down her stomach. She felt like she was sitting on a pointy rock, such was the hardness of his apparently huge cock poking into her.

Pembroke took a pen from his jacket pocket and pushed Sabine forward and down slightly, and started writing on her back. It was a score card “Parker – Al-Haraz”. Sabine moaned as the tip of the pen raked across her skin but Pembroke did not care.

“My girls are ready, Master.” Mrs. Parker guided the two girls to the center of the hall, in front of Master Pembroke. The girls stood rigidly, their faces a mix of determination and fear, their harnesses and headdresses gleaming under the dim lights.

Mrs. Al-Haraz cursed under her breath as she continued to put the single sleeve on her girls, her movements growing more agitated as she realized she had been slower. “Hold still!” she snapped, struggling to secure the straps as quickly as possible. Fatima and Camille winced but complied, their eyes darting nervously towards the center of the hall where their competitors already stood.

Master Pembroke watched with a cold, assessing gaze, his satisfaction evident. He turned his attention to Mrs. Al-Haraz and her girls, his expression stern. “Hurry up, Mrs. Al-Haraz. We don’t have all day,” he commanded.

“Yes, Master,” she responded, her voice taut with frustration. With a final tug, she secured the last strap on Fatima, then quickly moved to adjust Camille’s harness. Despite the rush, she ensured that each strap was tight and each buckle secure, unwilling to present anything less than perfection.

Finally, Mrs. Al-Haraz led her girls to the center of the hall, joining Mrs. Parker and her team. “My girls are ready as well, Master,” she announced, her tone clipped but respectful.

Pembroke pushed Sabine off, and got up and walked to the girls, checking their harnesses and playing with the horse tails. “Great effort ladies!”

He went back down and pulled Sabine over on his lap again, and wrote on her back. Mrs Parker had been quicker, but both sets of harnesses seemed good.

“OK, now, Mrs. Parker, present your ponies!” Master Pembroke commanded, his voice echoing through the hall.

Mrs. Parker stepped forward with a nervous smile. “Parade, girls!” she ordered firmly.

The girls obeyed immediately, beginning to march in unison. They raised their knees as high as they could with each step, their movements deliberate and synchronized. They moved in a circle around the hall, encircling Mrs. Al-Haraz and her girls. Each step was precise, their posture immaculate, with heads held high and eyes focused straight ahead. The sound of their boots clicking against the floor filled the hall, creating a rhythmic pattern that emphasized their discipline and coordination. Mrs. Parker watched intently, her gaze following her girls’ every move, ensuring they maintained their perfect form.

After several laps, Charlotte and Zara were tiring. Their breasts jiggled with each step, and sweat started to lash down their bodies. Their knees were getting lower each time, and Mrs. Parker produced a riding cane, gently smacking their bottoms to remind them. “Knees up, girls!” she commanded, her voice firm yet encouraging.

Charlotte and Zara, though exhausted, tried to muster the last of their strength. The sting of the cane spurred them on, and they forced their knees higher, pushing through the fatigue. Mrs. Parker could see the desperation in their tired faces, their eyes still focused ahead with determination.

The rhythmic sound of their boots hitting the floor continued, albeit with more strain now. Their heavy breathing was now interspersed with gasps and whines of effort. Mrs. Parker moved alongside them, her presence a constant reminder of the expectations they had to meet.

“You’re doing well, girls. Keep going!” she encouraged, her voice softer yet resolute.

Charlotte and Zara, driven by Mrs. Parker’s encouragement and the sting of the cane, pushed on. Each step was a struggle, their legs feeling heavier with each passing moment. Sweat dripped down their bodies, their muscles burning with fatigue.

“Enough, girls, bravo!” Mr. Pembroke started to applaud, his claps echoing through the hall. He was soon joined by Jamal, Dmitri, and Kwame, their applause creating a chorus of approval.

Charlotte and Zara stopped their march, standing still in the center of the hall. Their breasts heaved with each labored breath, and they lowered their heads, feeling the weight of their exhaustion. Their bodies trembled with the effort they had expended.

Mrs. Parker gave the girls a reassuring nod. “Well done,” she whispered, proud of their performance despite the challenges.

Pembroke then turned his attention to Mrs. Al-Haraz and her girls. “Now, Mrs. Al-Haraz, present your ponies!” he commanded.

Mrs. Al-Haraz, feeling the pressure to match or surpass Mrs. Parker’s presentation, quickly directed her girls to the center of the hall. Fatima and Camille, now fully harnessed and ready, took their positions.

“Parade, girls!” Mrs. Al-Haraz ordered, her voice sharp with determination.

Fatima and Camille began their march, raising their knees high with each step, mimicking the disciplined movements of Charlotte and Zara. They moved in a circle around the hall, their focus intense as they worked to impress Master Pembroke.

The hall once again filled with the sound of boots hitting the floor, the rhythmic pattern underscoring the girls’ efforts. Master Pembroke watched intently, comparing the performances, while Mrs. Parker observed from the sidelines, her eyes still on her own exhausted but resilient team.

Camille and Fatima tired much sooner than Charlotte and Zara had. As their pace slowed, Mrs. Al-Haraz’s frustration grew. “Knees higher!” she shouted, her voice echoing sharply through the hall. But Fatima, in particular, struggled to comply. Her legs trembled, and she lost her posture, her head lowering in exhaustion after just a few laps.

Seeing this, Mrs. Al-Haraz brought the cane down on Fatima’s bottom much harder than Mrs. Parker had on her girls. The sharp cracks of the cane echoed in the hall, eliciting pained screams from Fatima. But despite the harsh punishment, there was no improvement in the girls’ performance. In fact, the strikes only seemed to hinder them further, sapping what little strength they had left.

Camille, seeing Fatima’s distress, also began to falter, her movements becoming erratic and uncoordinated. Mrs. Al-Haraz’s shouts and strikes created a chaotic scene, starkly contrasting with the earlier disciplined performance of Mrs. Parker’s team.

“Keep moving!” Mrs. Al-Haraz barked, but the girls were already at their limits. Fatima stumbled, nearly falling, and Camille’s steps became more of a shuffle than a march. The high-heeled boots and tight harnesses, their aching assholes, combined with their exhaustion, made it impossible for them to maintain the required form.

Master Pembroke watched with a critical eye, his earlier satisfaction replaced by a stern frown. “Enough!” he finally commanded, his voice cutting through the chaos. The hall fell silent, save for the labored breathing of Camille and Fatima.

Mrs. Al-Haraz’s face flushed with a mix of anger and embarrassment as she stepped back, her eyes downcast. Fatima and Camille stood still, their bodies heaving with exhaustion, their faces wet with sweat and streaked with tears.

“Disappointing, Mrs. Al-Haraz,” Pembroke said coldly. He made more marks on Sabine’s back with his pen. “Now, we are still in the early stages, so no need to fret yet girls” He nodded at the dejected looking Fatima and Camille, still grunting in pain and exhaustion.

For the next part, Pembroke had been inspired to bring a scooter he had picked up from a shop in Karataş. It was a child’s scooter, and he had thought it useful for this event, giving it to Mrs. Parker and Mrs. Al-Haraz for their duel.

This time, Mrs. Al-Haraz went first. She attached a harness to the D-rings on her girls’ harness and brought the scooter behind them. She took the harness in her hands, and as instructed, took her hands off the control handlebar of the scooter. She was wearing high heels and a short black PVC mini skirt, and she tottered dangerously on the scooter, just able to have her two feet planted on either side. Standing up straight, she held her girls by the harness as if she were on a chariot.

She steadied herself and ordered, “Advance.” Camille and Zara resumed their stride pattern, wearily trying to lift their knees again. However, their thighs now felt like lead, and the weight of the scooter with Mrs. Al-Haraz on it made moving all the more difficult. They had to strain just to get it going, their teeth clenched with effort. Their strides were hard to keep in tandem, and their heads bent down to the ground, seeking more power to pull the scooter and their overseer.

“Poor form on your girls, Mrs. Al-Haraz,” Pembroke commented. He admired the girls’ efforts, noting the taut and defined muscles visible in their abdomens and the sheen of sweat glistening on their skin, but he wanted them upright.

“Heads up!” Mrs. Al-Haraz shouted, raising her cane. She struck the girls on their sides, reminding them to straighten up.

“I cannot!” wailed Camille, sweat now dripping from her face to the floor.

Pembroke tutted loudly. Kwame took a swig of his beer and remarked, “Hmmm, now they are talking? Not going well for this team.”

Dmitri and Jamal laughed, adding to the mounting pressure on the struggling girls.

Mrs. Al-Haraz screamed at her girls, “No talking! No excuses! Heads up, knees up, pull! Pull!” Her voice was sharp and commanding, driving Camille and Zara to push through their exhaustion and pain. She angrily raised the cane again, but lost her balance and fell off the scooter, landing on her backside on the ground.

The sudden loss of weight on the scooter made the girls lurch forward. They stumbled in their own high heels and fell forward, their arms helplessly bound behind their backs, unable to stop their fall. They landed face down on the ground, the impact resonating with a dull thud as they struggled to catch their breath. The scene was chaotic, with Mrs. Al-Haraz fuming and the girls trying to recover from their unexpected tumble struggling to get to their feet.

The men were laughing their heads off. Mrs. Al-Haraz got up and hurriedly helped her girls to their feet, each of them now crying in pain.

The girls continued, pushing through their pain and exhaustion. Mrs. Al-Haraz wisely chose not to use her cane anymore, opting instead to shout encouragement.

“Come on, girls, you can do it! Just a bit more!” she urged, her tone more desperate than supportive.

Anna squirmed uncomfortably at the gruelling spectacle even more than the giant hands planted on her breasts. The girls’ neck muscles strained, their faces turning purple from the effort. Their attempts to keep high knees and heads up were now almost completely abandoned, with their focus shifting solely to pulling the scooter around in a circle at an increasingly slow pace.

“That’s enough, girls,” said Pembroke.

The girls both gasped in relief, dropping to their knees with their heads bowed almost to the ground as they caught their breath.

“Now, Mrs Parker, get your girls ready.”

Zara and Charlotte had been watching the other girls with horror. Zara found it impossible to watch her cousin’s face, choking and turning purple, her eyes bulging with effort. She had been relieved when their ordeal had ended. But now, it was their turn to start.