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There is precious little to occupy me here during the day, and even less at night, so I have availed myself of one of the many local females for hire.”“I have spent less than two months in India but even I can see that this young girl is not Indian but African.”“There has been much miscegenation during the centuries, Colonel, and the indigenous Naga people are exceedingly dark. I can assure you that the girl is a local.”I was certain the female was one of those unfortunate African girls sold to Eloise de La Zouche by the Omani Captain Farah, which indicated Masters had been in contact with Eloise. I addressed the girl in Arabic.“As-salamu Alaykum,” I said softly, then picked up a blanket from off the floor and draped it over her shoulders.She shot me a look of grateful thanks and replied, “Alaykum s-salām.”“And one who speaks Arabic,” Masters said. I had to admire his quick wits.“Please send someone to fetch my wife, Lieutenant. She speaks more Arabic than I do.” I said.Havildar. Ian laughed. His fingers moved to her ass and slipped into it. Leah then moaned. Again, Ian laughed. Then she felt the whip upon her. He was tickling it over her skin. It’s roughness both tickled and chafed. “This whip represents my love for you, Leah. It will both tickle you and chafe you. I will use this whip upon your flanks and ass often to help you not forget my love for you and your vow to me.” He slid the whip all over her body. Over the back. Around her sides. Onto her breasts which hung exposed and whose tips grazed the rough carpeted floor which irritated them and caused them to harden. The whip returned to her back and to her backside. It snuck it’s way to her inner thighs and up the pat of her buttocks. Ian departed the whip from her body. Minutes, which seemed like days, went by. Leah felt Ian’s eyes on her. Felt as they penetrated to her essence. Then came the whistle Leah had feared since the day she’d laid eyes on the little whip. The very sound that heralded utter.
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