THE SLAVES IN THE DESERT

Chapter Six

Hard Times for Clarissa  - Back to Work - A Setback


After one day’s recuperation, all alone in the cell while Stella and Miranda were at work, Megan was told to join them. Like Miranda and Clarissa, Megan, after all those weeks naked in the cage, was accustomed to the sun on her body, but her feet were not used to the rough ground and she soon began to feel sore.

“Try to get those feet used to it, Megan” said Miranda. “Those soles have a lot of miles to cover when we finally make a run for it!”

“And who says we are making a run for it? Whoever it is must be crazy!”

“Clarissa’s got it all worked out. We have a bottle full of water hidden in the cell, enough to keep us going for a day or two. But you’ll need to be able to cover many miles, so get working on those feet! Tramp on all the sharp stones and keep moving about on them all day. It took Clarissa and I about fifteen days before we felt satisfied. So I reckon it’s going to be some time in the next three weeks. Clarissa should be recovered by then from her whippings and semi-starvation.”

“She looked pretty bad to me this morning.” said Megan. “She was hardly moving and all those flies crawling over her! It was horrible! It made me think she was just a corpse!”

“She’ll be alright, Megan! Your friend is made of pretty stern stuff! You should see the way she works during the day. She might be small, but that body has a lot of power packed in it!”

“I agree she had come on in these last three months.” said Megan. “Every day I would watch her coming back with the rest of you and she seemed to be getting stronger all the time - and happier!”

“We are happy together, she and I! But who knows what will happen if and when we escape and resume our normal lives? I only think of escape, Megan. I’d like to think there was a future for me and Clarissa as a couple, but that’s for later. Are you jealous?”

Megan shook her head. “Not a bit! We are friends, that’s all. I’ve never even thought about us being lovers! I have a boyfriend back home (Clarrie’s cousin, Robert!). I thought she was showing an interest in one boy, but maybe I was mistaken. I’m quite happy if you do both get together, although I can’t say I really approve - I’m a bit old-fashioned about some things. And, as you say, we‘ve got to get out first!”

By the time she was back in the prison compound, Megan was tired out and wondered if working so long  in that atrocious heat might not be worse that being stuck in a cage.  Her hands were  raw after wielding a shovel for over ten hours. Her shoulders smarted after being struck several times by the guard‘s whip. She had not been keeping up with Miranda and the other girl  did not dare slow down for fear of similar treatment to her own back.

Then she recalled the agony of being bent over for days on end. Once the kindly Wanda had been sick and she had spent fourteen days without being allowed out. Anything was better than that - except, perhaps, what was being done to Clarissa who had been standing for two days and looked more dead than alive.

She had obviously moved her bowels during the day and the flies were eagerly congregated upon the small heap of faeces that the guards had not seen fit to clear away - as well as on the filth that caked her legs. No doubt Clarissa would have to clean up after herself before being allowed back to the cell to rest. Megan wondered how long her friend would be given to recuperate. Not too long if her own experience were anything to go by!

“Clarissa looked awful, didn’t she?” said Stella when all three were back in the cell. “She was a fool to ask for her treatment to be made worse. Thank Heaven she only has another day out there!!

The other two agreed and then all three fell asleep. Clarissa  felt the temperatures falling and like Stella breathed a grateful prayer that she had only one more day of this torture to endure. Wanda had fed her tonight and made sure she had as much water to drink as she could get down her. She had also cleaned up her body and hosed away the filth on the ground. Not for the first time, Clarissa wondered how a decent woman like her could work in a place like this and live with herself. Then she reflected that were it not for Wanda, Megan would most likely be dead by now, so the guard was doing her best to do what she could to help the unfortunate captives in this place. She fell asleep and when she awoke the sun was already climbing and with it, the temperatures.

At nine in the evening she was untied. Megan  and Miranda helped her back to the cell. She was told she had one day to recover and  would then be  sent back to work.

This was the first time that Clarissa had had a chance to look at Megan at all closely. Three days ago she had scarcely had time to appreciate that her friend’s long and horrible ordeal was over before being taken out to be punished. The mess the sadistic guard had made of her face was still the first thing anyone would notice. Megan had a scar from her forehead to her cheekbone on the left side of her face and one above her right eye. It was a miracle she had not lost an eye in that vicious attack, but Megan cheerfully assured her three companions she had  suffered no loss of vision whatever. Even so, Clarissa was anxious that she get those scars treated as soon as possible. Miranda, who hoped to be a doctor one day,  said that it should be possible to have those blemishes largely removed.

The worst part of Megan’s long inactivity proved to be a lack of leg strength and she was forced by the others to spend time in the evening exercising them in preparation for the breakout whenever it came. Three weeks passed after Megan’s release and Clarissa’s punishment and both girls were  fully recovered. Megan was managing to keep up with both Clarissa and Miranda and the thoughts of the three began to be seriously focused on their break for freedom.

“Let’s have a look at that bottle!” said Megan one night just before lights out. She had finished her exercises and was getting a little tired of listening to Clarissa, her head firmly between Miranda’s thighs, juicily sucking at her lover’s genitalia. Like Stella, she found it disgusting in the extreme, even if the deep affection the pair had for each other was so plain for all to see.

Clarissa reluctantly took her head away from where her heart was (Miranda’s pussy) and removed the loose slap, being very careful not to disturb the dust on the floor. If the bottle was discovered it would be weeks of beatings and being pinioned  in the sun without water for all of them.

“It’s not too pure looking! We’ll die if we drink that filthy stuff!”

“We’ll be dead if we don’t!” snapped Clarisssa. “You’ll be glad enough of it when the time comes! And when we get our tiny ration we’ll be very grateful for it!”

“Is there enough for three? I know it’s a litre bottle, but we must lose that much in an hour, never mind a day!”

“I think we’ll last about two days before we run out. We should make it to the main road by then and flag some kindly motorist down.”

“We hope!” said Megan. She was beginning to wish she had never come down from that cage! At least she wasn’t allowed to die up there - quite!

“Why can’t we try to hijack the truck?” asked Megan.

“Because we’d never get far in the direction we need to be going. If we could get ourselves mules or horses, that would be fine - or a tank. But that truck wouldn’t make it more than a few hundred yards.”

Megan was not totally convinced but Stella intervened. She had been hiking in the area before being arrested and assured them that no vehicle such as the prison truck could ever craoss the region they needed to traverse.

So Clarissa put the bottle back and returned to Miranda’s firm and sweet young thighs. The others fell asleep. The last sound Megan heard before drifting off was a loud suck from Clarissa’s busy mouth followed by a moan of pleasure from Miranda.

In the morning they prepared to be let out for another day’s hard work. Clarissa, as usual, was anxious to exercise her muscles and the others wearily resigned to fourteen long hours slaving in the stupefying heat. A warder came down the row of cells rattling her truncheon again the bars and shouting at the inmates to get their clothes off - those that had any - and be standing by their beds for inspection.

“I wonder what this all about?” muttered Clarissa.  She addressed Stella and Miranda. “Either of you two experienced anything like this before?”

“Never.” said Miranda, who had been her longer than any of the three. “I don’t like this at all. Just pray they don’t find our bottle! We’ll all be getting a lot of sun if they do. And plenty of whippings, too!”

Although three warders turned the cell over several times, they failed to find the bottle - or anything else amiss. Soon all the prisoners, still undressed, were lined up in the morning sun. One end of the line was in the shade of the prison wall and the women concerned were ordered to move into the sun’s glare. An hour passed and the sun began to rise and got stronger by the minute.

Some of the women started to shuffle and  flex their bodies to ease the discomfort, but a voice one from one of the watchtowers told them to keep quite still. It was well after the time for the morning meal already and still the women were kept waiting in line. Stella was the least used to the sun of the three cell-mates and Clarissa saw after the second hour had passed that her white shoulders and body were already turning pink. Too much more of this and she would be badly burnt.

After four hours of waiting motionless, three guards came out of the administration block, dragging a young prisoner with them. This girl had been brought in three weeks ago and had struck Clarissa as one of life’s born rebels. She was a local woman and imprisoned for twelve years for stealing from her employer’s safe. No doubt she had hoped to use the proceeds to escape the mad community she lived in and make a life for herself in some more sane and rational part of the country - as far away from this desert Bedlam as possible. Right now there was nothing rebellious about her!

The poor woman had obviously been beaten up quite badly, possibly while everyone had been waiting in the growing heat. Clarissa hoped this ritual would be over soon. They had not had anything to eat of drink and it was hot already, though nowhere near as hot as it would be later.

Some of the waiting women were already showing signs of wilting. None had eaten or drunk since the previous night and it was already up in the nineties.

Clarissa’s hope that something might soon be happening was realised when the Warden appeared coming out of her office. She looked up and down the line of naked thirsty and weary women and cleared her throat importantly.

“This foolish young woman attempted to leave us last night. She got over the wall unseen, the searchlight having been disabled. Even in bare feet she got all  of three miles before being caught. Now she is to pay for her misdeed. You have been assembled to see the beginning of a long and very painful series of punishments that will make her wish she had never been born!

After being given fifty lashes, she will spend a few months in the cage, once she has assembled it. But this will not be the end of her misery and you will all witness over the coming years, just how harshly we deal with attempted escape in this establishment. Two of you will share the task of whipping her. The lucky two will make every lash hurt, unless they wish to be flogged themselves!

Clarissa prayed she would not be one of the two called on the whip the wretched runaway. But she knew somehow that she was going to be called out and so it was. Clarissa got all the special jobs and did them well, but this was a job too many! The other one called out was Debbie, who had whipped Clarissa so well a few weeks ago.

“Are you going to do this, Debbie?” she whispered as they made their way across to the tethered prisoner and the unsavoury task of flogging her.

“Sure I am. That bitch is loser and should never have tried to run away. What chance did the fool think she had? It’s the survival of the fittest, Clarrie! We are the fittest and she is a loser. I’ll not risk my hide for her!”

So Clarissa was on her own as she refused politely but firmly to use the whip on the defaulter. The Warden liked Clarissa and tried several times to persuade her to change her mind. It was all in vain, as Clarissa was nothing if not resolute. Finally she was taken to the punishment cells and her ankle was chained to the wall. As she sank to the ground, a harsh voice ordered her to remain standing. She was being watched through the peephole and had heard that some very serious offenders were treated this way. She was obviously a serious offender!

If it was hot outside it was even worse in here! The last occupant had left a few days ago and the cell still stank. It was only by dint of great self control that Clarissa avoided throwing up. She wondered how long she would be kept in here. Maybe until her friends escaped and brought help from the outside world!

After five hours of standing upright, she was taken back to the parade ground. Looking up she saw that the runaway girl had been well whipped and was now confined in the same cage that had housed Megan for so long. She cursed the stupid woman for making their own escape so much more difficult.

Looking along the line of women, now standing naked and motionless in the full one hundred and ten degree heat, she saw some were swaying and clearly on the point of collapse. Two of the older prisoners had already fallen and looked to be in a bad way, not moving at all.

“Nice to see you back, darling” said Miranda.

“It won’t be for long. I guess I’ll get whipped again and sent back to the solitary cells. God, but they stink! I shall have to get used to it, though. I won’t be coming out of there ever, unless you lot get out and get me rescued!”

The Warden again came out to harangue the line of wilting prisoners. Stella’s body, where it had previously been covered, was horribly burned by this time. Clarissa wondered how she herself would fare when she came out of the solitary cells with her body pale from months away from the light.

“That object up there.” she pointed at Melissa, the runaway, now trying vainly to find herself a more comfortable position and writhing in her continuing agonies. “ She must have had help. If the culprit will own up and take her own equally severe punishment, the rest of you may go inside and eat and drink. Furthermore, you will not be required to work today and those suffering from sunburn may receive treatment. But if the guilty woman remains silent, then you all stay here until sunset and come back for more of this tomorrow and every day until I finally get my hands on  her!  I will be back in an hour to see if the woman has the courage to take her punishment and save her comrades more pain.”

The Warden started to walk away. Clarissa looked along the ranks of her distressed and tormented companions in misery. No one looked to be about to own up. Maybe that poor girl up there had acted alone. In that case the future was pretty horrible for all!