Not gonna be raped then? Not getting it up the ass. Scott’s spirits had momentarily lifted. Thrashed. Across his ass. But his relief was short-lived. Another blistering stroke tore apart Scott’s self-control. Closing off his brain. Slamming his damaged belly into the table edge.
The laser strike sent weakening shudders of pain sizzling down his legs. Searing flames ricocheted up the length of his backbone. Jarring his shoulders upwards .. the pain clawing its vicious marks across his face. Body on fire. Head exploding.
Two more. In total, five will-crippling blows bit into his bare ass. Rapidly following on. One blistering blow after the other. Scott had yelled out .. couldn’t help it .. couldn’t stop himself. Shocked. Pain loaded upon pain.
— – – –
Why couldn’t he just shut his mouth, Mwenye thought? Let him concentrate. Stay focussed. Resolved. But the general insisted on keeping up his narrative.
“One of the benefits of being an officer ……”
Mwenye was stuck in his chair. With every yelp of pain off his friend on the table he had shuddered. Mwenye was sweating. Not a single blow had been laid on him. But he was running with sweat. Anxiety for his new-found American friend. Best shot around .. best in years. But that reputation wasn’t helping him now.
“ ….. delegation.”
Mwenye was not really listening to the general Mwenye had ordered Scott to assassinate. And stupidly they had got themselves taken prisoner for Scott’s mistake. The sniper had missed, he’d wanted another shot. His mistake. But Mwenye’s sympathies stayed with the guy howling on that tabletop. To get his attention the general poked Mwenye in the chest with the end of his cruel whip.
“Don’t have to do our own dirty work. Officers like us … Do we?”
Mwenye heard his friend Scott groan. Stretched out on the table. That stinging thrashing on his bare backside had stopped. The speed of the blows had clearly robbed Scott of some of his strength, though. The shock had weakened his senses, it seemed. Too much for a body to take in .. all-at-once.
“Delegation. Perk of the job ….”
Mwenye was ignoring the general’s prattling. All his attention .. and guilt .. was for his friend Scott. The beating had stopped. Scott was gasping .. breathing heavily .. sucking in air .. undoubtedly his way of fighting himself into getting back some control. Loudly getting his wind back. Then, unaccountably, Scott’s breathing changed. All staccato. His whole body shuddered. He’d lost it suddenly. The burning in his flesh juddering .. uncontrollable .. that muscled body riven with trembling pain.
“You. Soldier. You listening?”
The general’s sharp tone grabbed Mwenye’s attention back. The general was jabbing his attention in the direction of one of Scott’s guards. The soldiers who’d tied him up .. keeping him pinned down on the table. Keeping Scott’s arse controlled to take the flogging.
“You want to do well by your general?”
Mwenye saw a soldier .. looking terrified .. open-eyed .. his whole body almost springing to attention when his general snapped at him.
“Take this. Do your best.”
The general was holding out his sjambok. He shook it when the soldier didn’t moved .. frozen by fear to the spot.
“Give it the sucker.”
Mwenye saw the soldier wilt under his general’s glare.
“And do not fail me.”
Mwenye could see .. this soldier would not fail. He looked horrified. Singled out by his general. Singled out to do his will.
Obvious why the general had chosen him. Mwenye saw it as clear as day. Wide-eyed and terrified, he’d please. Every sinew in his frightened body would do his best to please. AND the soldier was built for the job. All of Mzama’s men had stripped off their tops. It was hot in this shed. The heat on the tin roof raged down on them from overhead. Everyone was running with sweat.
THIS soldier .. HE was built. Broad muscular back. His shoulders rounded off with muscle that looked like small melons. Exceptionally built. Picked on by the general. Picked out to finish off the job.
Mwenye looked over at Scott. He was glistening with sweat. His bare backside was glowing a patchy red. Scott had got his breath back, it seemed. Those worrying rasping sounds had eased, the shuddering had ceased. But, Mwenye suspected, not for long.
— – – – — – – – — – – –