Chapter 55

Lauren had no recollection of leaving the lounge, of being cut from the chair and taken to her bedroom with the ropes still tight around her wrists. She vaguely knew that Emma had bathed her while she lay on her stomach on the bed, dousing the raging heat in her buttocks and thighs with so many cold flannels that the bed was decidedly wet. Fortunately, Lauren was unable to see the blood that Emma squeezed out of the flannel with every trip to the bathroom. Lauren cried relentlessly, sobbing as Emma tried to smooth her buttocks, caresing them with suntan cream she had found beneath the sink. The stinging ebbed slowly, turning into a dull ache that seemed to prevent her from moving properly. Five hours after she left the lounge, still in agony, she cried herself to sleep for the first time in maybe fifteen years.

She woke early, the pain still very much in evidence as she rolled carefully onto her side. Her back ached and she now realised that her anus hurt badly. Curling into a ball, she cupped her buttocks, testing each palm-sized area of skin for damage. She opened her eyes, smiling gently as Emma slept soundly opposite. Her recollection of the previous day was already fuzzy. She knew that something terrible had happened, and remembered the whip well. But her mind had shit out many of the details and although she spent the hours follwoing dawn running through the dreadful punishment, little came to mind.

Emma brought Lauren up to date about the show after she had passed out, and how ugly Maria's wound had looked, the great red stripes across her thighs and over her pussy. The streaks of the whip had even shown through the dense black pubic hair, according to Emma, and the conversation naturally turned to Lauren's injuries. With little convincing, Lauren had allowed Emma to help her roll onto her back. Emma pulled on her regulation shirt and sat beside Lauren, the little girl's face reflecting the extent of Lauren's terrible ordeal. With a warm flannel, Emma cleaned her again, rinsing down from her breasts, over her navel and over her thighs. She raised her eyebrows questioningly, to which Lauren acceeded to the request and parted her legs. Emma gasped as she saw the red marks for the first time in daylight. The whip seemed to have wrapped around her thighs, the thongs and knots digging into her flesh at precise intervals. Emma rinsed, parting her legs before laying the warm flannel over her pussy. As the pleasure seeped in, Lauren sniffed, fighting back the inclination to cry yet again.

To the utter surprise of Lauren, Maria did indeed return their passports the next day, even apologising for the delay. She seemed changed, almost apologetic, and most certainly made no reference to the show they had put on for the General. Lauren remained convinced that the return of the documents was linked to her performance (and humiliation) at the hands of the General and his weird entourage. The whole household seemed to be in shock as people walked quietly around, desperate to avoid eye contact and cautious in their conversation.

The following day Lauren wandered out of the house and conducted a leisurely tour of the grounds of the house, realising as she walked further that even though they had their passports, leaving the place was easier said than done.

As far as she looked were hills, dense jungle, brilliant blue skies. The occasional screech of a macaw and the incessant din from the cicadas were the only sounds to be heard during the hot afternoon sun. She carefully sat down on the wall, watching the tiny red ants scurrying over the old stones, busy going nowhere. Her freedom was useless.

Movement in the undergrowth on the far side of the road. Her heart leapt as she looked slightly to the side of the source of the noise, watching the branches move. It must be a pretty large animal to move the leaves like that, she thought, dropping to the ground quietly, preparing to run for the safety of the house.

"Psst!"

Lauren stared at the undergrowth, now able to discern the dark grey of a man's shirt. "What?" she replied, wondering whether she should have ignored it and made her way inside anyway. Deciding she still had the wall between him and herself, she stood her ground.

"It's me, Peter." She smiled, overjoyed that there was someone apart from those in the house that she knew, who could possibly help them. Someone worldly-wise, resourceful. He broke cover and looked around him, up and down the dusty road before making his way across to sit the other side of the wall, out of sight of the house. "You're in trouble, or do you know that?"

"We've got our passports back, and can leave when we want to." she replied defensively.

"You got them back with sex, right?"

"Maybe" hissed Lauren, looking into the jungle where he had appeared.

"That's just the beginning. You need to leave as soon as possible. Don't ask for a lift, just run."

"Why? They've promised to take us to the Venezuelan border and avoid the uprising and fighting"

"Fighting stopped last week, country's almost back to normal" he said, waiting for it to sink in. "I saw you a week ago. I know this woman who runs the place. She makes films, right?"

"Yeah, I haven't seen any though"

"Don't, or you won't sleep"

"Why?"

"They involve sex, but the stars rarely live to see the finished film." Lauren's head whirled, blood coursing through her body. "I met a couple of refugees about a month ago, just by chance. They had run through the night, pursued by her troops. There were four initially."

"But it's so far from anywhere. How did you get here?"

"By truck, then walked across that hill to find you." She was touched by his help, and realised that he must have walked for the best part of the morning to find the old house. She leaned over to see him.

"No, keep looking up, don't let them know I'm here or you really have had it. Your best chance is to come out together just as you did this afternoon. Come out of the house separately after your evening meal and each make your way over this wall and to the little opening that I came through. I'll meet you. Bring nothing or you'll give the game away. Once we start to run, we must keep moving. No stopping or God knows what'll happen."

"What, tonight?"

"Yeah, you can't wait any longer. Lauren, believe me, she's a whacko. Tell the children as late as possible. Don't give them time to think or give the game away, OK?"

She looked out at the hills, the dense undergrowth and thought of the brambles, the insects, mud, snakes and other inhabitants that would feast on her. The house was so safe, cool, there was food, television, a bed. "I don't know... there's Juan and Julie as well in there"

"Oh great, more! Don't be stupid Lauren. You have no goddamn choice. I can't hang around here. What time do you finish tea?"

"Six thirty, maybe a bit later."

"OK, tell the children at six forty-five. Have them change their clothes, put on socks and shoes, and tell the boys to leave first. Then the girls, then you, in ten minute intervals. I'll be here. If you don't show by eight o'clock, then I'll leave and you'll have to look after yourselves. Got it?"

She watched him slink silently back into the undergrowth, disappearing from sight with a feint rustle of leaves then walked back to the house, striding purposefully, energised into planning their next few hours. She moved cautiously, his words causing her alarm as she looked at the house with open, wiser eyes.

Jamie was slumped on the sofa, watching Spanish trash on the television. She sat on the floor in front of him, relating the plan and showing with her stern expression that she was both deadly serious and back in command. Without waiting for an answer, she rose and went to find Emma. She checked the kitchen, thinking that Emma might have offered to help with the preparation of their meal, but the kitchen was empty although some salad seemed to be ready, and she could smell the familiar spicy beef that simmered quietly on the stove.

She wandered into their own room, and heard Emma humming from the bathroom. Gently, she pushing the door open and peered round the corner. Emma lay against the end of the bath, eyes closed, trailing her hands in the water, dreaming of something that clearly amused her. Respecting her privacy, Lauren retreated back into the bedroom, shut the door nosily and shouted out for her.

"In here. Won't be a minute."

"Hurry up!" she said, looking around at the clothes on offer. Army shirts, a couple of pair of knickers and the old T-shirts and jeans that had worn on their arrival. She heard the bath water draining away and the door squeak open. Emma stood naked except for a towel around her shoulders, framed in the doorway.

"What's up?" she asked, smiling.

"Come on, you need to get dressed."

Emma slipped over to the bed, sitting with one foot pressed against the opposite thigh. Her little girl pussy, tight, spotless, gleamed between her tanned legs while her breasts poked out behind the towel. "Why, what's happening?"

"Emma, we have to leave. But secretly." she confided, dropping the clothes she had collected at the foot of the bed. "Tonight, after we've eaten. I've already told Jamie."

Emma looked down into her naked lap, a look of pain on her face. "Lori?"

"What?" she asked, quietly, touching her knee in this time of crisis.

"Do you still like me?"

"Emma! Of course! What makes you say that?"

Emma shrugged, her lower lip trembling in preparation for the tears that seemed certain to follow. Lauren drank in the sight of her body, the freshness and purity of her skin so delectable that her heart raced. She squeezed her leg.

"Since we've been here, you've just ignored me, you know!"

"Oh Emma! Times here have been very difficult, sweety." she said, feeling equally miserable that Emma should even have to mention the topic.

"But, you could just curl up in bed with me." A tear that had be welling up fell on to her leg.

"Hey." said Lauren, wiping the tear away from her pussy. "When we get home, we'll stay together, I promise" Emma was silent. Sensing her mistrust, Lauren leaned towards her and kissed her gently on the forehead. Emma held Lauren's arm, encouraging her. The sobbing ebbed as Lauren kissed her ear, causing Emma to chuckle. Pleased with the progress, and sure that this was going to be needed to get Emma's full cooperation, Lauren pushed her gently over onto her side. She pecked at her shoulders, feeling the girl's heart pounding through her chest, sliding slowly down to take each glorious nipples between her lips. Conscious that she had to be quick, she slithered over her navel, licking as Emma's legs parted, down over her stomach towards her young sex.

Moving now between her legs, Lauren slipped her hands under the teenager's buttocks, pulling her up towards her mouth. Breathing over her pussy, she probed quickly with her tongue, teasing open the labia, rewarded with the taste and silkiness of her vagina. Open- mouthed, Lauren kissed her pussy hard, driving her tongue as deep as she could inside the girl, straining to delve as far as she could inside the lovely heat of her body. Lauren withdrew, pecking at her lips, flicking the folds that still covered her clitoris. Slowly, she lowered the girl back onto the bed and slipped up to rest with her. Lauren slid her arm around Emma's shoulders and pulled her tight.

She had forgotten the illicit taste of Emma, the purity of her body and the responsiveness that had shocked her that first night. The tight, perfect skin and the way she moved, so baby-like, fresh, exploratory and innocent in a way that was so endearing it made Lauren want to scream with delight.

"I promise, Emma. I think you're wonderful."

Emma breathed in loudly. "Lori, that's all I needed. Just, you know, a hug, a little kiss." Lauren looked at the ceiling, unable to think of any response that would adequately answer her. She hugged her tight, slipping her arm around her waist and lay with her, re- organizing her thoughts, her priorities.

She dressed Emma, watching her young pouting sex six inches from her eyes as she helped her on with her knickers, pulling them up slowly and carefully as the fine blonde hairs disappeared from sight. The material tightly hugged her buttocks and the elastic pinged noisily as Lauren let go, stepping back to help her on with her T- Shirt. They spent five minutes collecting necessities for the journey. A trip with only a beginning, no known destination or duration, not even a known outcome, just escape from a potential nightmare that Lauren was reluctant to share with Emma in any great detail. But Lauren was relieved that the children had accepted her authority once again.

During their evening meal, Maria stuck her head into the kitchen so say she was off out to finalize their move to Venezuela. Lauren nodded, thanking her, stating with flashing eyes that she would wait up for her return, just in case she needed any more information.

"I'm going to get some flowers from the garden when I've finished tea!" announced Emma. Her theatrical tone made Lauren cringe. She shot a glance at Maria, reassured to see that she had taken in innocence. Maria nibbled at her own food, standing by the kitchen window, looking out at the gathering clouds and gusts of wind that ruffled the bushes nearby. Lauren watched her, left hand on her hip as she absently forked her food. Her hair hung loosely over her back, shining, healthy. Her bare brown legs promised so much, their ultimate treasure hidden by the short skirt. Lauren shifted on her chair, rubbing herself in her dreamworld.

Maria turned, smiled radiantly at Emma, then waved good-bye. "Grab a bag from the drawer and go pick flowers. Slowly, there's no hurry, remember. Listen for traffic before you cross the wall." She watched as the girl rose, took the bag and left the kitchen, passing by the window as though off on an evening walk of the grounds. Lauren glanced at the clock. Six forty-five. Her heart beat wildly, fear rising inside her at the thought of the next few days and their reckless bid for freedom. She collected the dirty plates with shaking hands and dropped them gently into the sink. "Fridge stuff" she said to Jamie.

He took a bottle of milk, chocolate bars, cheese and some cold meat. They both knew that the food would spoil in less than a day, but at least it would keep them going until they could find something else. At six fifty-five, Lauren slipped out of the room, following in Emma's footsteps. She felt she was walking too fast, making her way almost directly to the front gate. Detouring a little, she wandered aimlessly for a while, turning to surreptitiously look at each of the windows that faced the road, checking for any signs of life. She knew that there would be two soldiers somewhere, but had never really thought of timing them or working out their daily schedule.