Arabian Addventure (Part 3)

Cindy climbed aboard the jet bound for Heathrow Airport, London.  She was dressed for undercover work, which for the six foot tall blonde consisted of tight pale blue jeans, black cowboy boots with silver trim, a white T-shirt and a loose jacket that matched her jeans.  Over her left shoulder she carried her trusty sports bag that contained everything she was taking on the mission; including her skin-tight Star Maiden costume and boots in the bag.  She walked down the isle and handed her ticket to a stewardess.

“Could you tell me where first class is, miss?” she said rather loudly, her green eyes sparkling with glee.  No harm in letting people know whose first class, she thought.

The stewardess smiled perfunctorily and directed the young superheroine to the upper floor of the plane.  Cindy turned on her heels and strode confidently away; she already knew where to go as she always insisted on flying first class on Protector business.  She had had an argument with Kanika about this and they had eventually reached a compromise – she would fly first class to Europe and from there travel to Riyadh in baggage class.  At least that’s how Cindy saw it.  Climbing the stairs she saw the floor was very empty and she was able to get a block of three seats all to herself.  She stowed her luggage and settled down to the long dull flight with her collection of Rock ‘n’ Roll and Country and Western CDs.  She always listened to them when she went for her daily work out.

As usual there was a CD in the player and she just pressed play.  The music started.  It wasn’t what she expected but it was great.  Cindy had never heard the like of it before and soon she was engrossed.  She didn’t notice the plane take off or the stewardess try to talk to her.  Eventually the stewardess gave up, putting Cindy’s blank expression down to severe in-flight nerves and decided not to bother her again.  Cindy listened to the CD twice before stirring.  She had to hear more like it.  Feverishly she opened the CD player and took out the disk.  It was plain except for a large number 1 on it.

Cindy actually moaned to herself, “Now I’ll never know what it’s called or how to get any more.”

She perked up a bit when she remembered she was flying to the holy land of Saudi Arabia, as the songs on the tracks had been about the true faith of Islam.  Maybe, she thought, some kind believer would tell her the tune’s names.  Maybe Sheik Ali Akbar al-Sakkuain could tell her as the holy man featured prominently in several of the songs.  In the mean time she might as well listen to what she had brought along, she decided, it would be better than the boredom of the flight; but not by much.  She placed the new CD carefully in the Ziploc pouch she held her collection in and pulled out the next.  It had a single number 2 on it.  Cindy’s heart skipped a beat and eagerly she checked out the other sleeves in the case. There were five new CDs!  Number two went into the player and she sat back to listen.  The erotic music washed over her.  Like Kristin before her Cindy succumbed to the plaintive song of the infidel girl sung by that same beautiful female voice and by the end of the CD she was a jumble of emotions.  Happy that she was going to see the man of her dreams, yet fearful that he might reject her as any good Muslim should.  There was hope too from the song, that the good sheik would take pity on her and let her enter his harem as the lowest of his concubines.  As she played the CD again, she whispered over and over the profession of faith, so that she would be ready when she finally met him.

When the CD ended, Cindy was quietly confident the mercy of the sheik would redeem her.  As she switched CDs she noticed her jeans were damp.  Hardly surprising considering how frustrated I am miles from my love, she thought.  The tall blonde took the sports bag from the overhead locker and headed to the toilets.  Once in the cubical she struggled out of her boots, jeans and panties.  She laid the panties on the edge of the sink to dry and sat on the toilet.

“I might as well listen to tape 3 whilst I wait,” she thought; but she didn’t need an excuse.

As before it started with a song; the song that had taken a prudish Kristin and turned her into a sexual animal, with an unquenchable lust for perversion that only the sheik could satisfy.  Cindy, semi naked on the toilet, spent the whole time masturbating and coming.  She shrugged off her jacket and tore off her T-shirt with sticky fingers.  Orgasms shuddered through her super strong body so much the pilot reported turbulence.  When the music was over the toilet was cracked.  Cindy was so weak from her self stimulation she had barely the energy to rummage for the next CD and slip it into the player.  She toppled to the floor with the songs of Harmony in her ears.

Cindy had been brought up to be the ‘All American girl next door’ with a belief she could have any man she wanted.  Becoming a Global Protector, with her near perfect body, had not lessened but strengthened it.  She may have fooled around a lot but she was as straight as a die.  Indeed she had used her position as chief cheerleader to have a couple of suspected lesbians thrown out of the squad and prevented several joining.  Now, as the sensuous female voice sang, she recalled her cheerleader squad and the other Global Protectors, even the stewardess she talked to earlier and saw their desirability… as sexual partners to please the sheik!  She orgasmed multiple times and went limp.
Cindy didn’t know how long she lay there in a pool of her own sweat and juices.  All she remembered was coming to and licking her still sticky fingers clean.  The ‘All American’, ‘Red Blooded’ girl stood and looked at herself in the mirror.  Punching it she broke the glass and with one of the shards started to shave her sodden pubic hair right off.  After that she stuffed her tattered shirt behind the toilet and simply put on a lacy black bra.  Over this she wore her jacket – loose.  Her jeans she replaced with a short skirt but she kept the boots.  Star maiden had never been a prude but only a few hours ago she would have been shocked at the perverse thoughts that crowded her head.

“If there’s time before we land I’ll check out that sexy stewardess,” she decided.  “Maybe she could catch the connecting flight to Riyadh with me.  I can’t believe she would turn down a Global Protector.”

A timid knocking came from the cubicle door and a voice, “Miss?  I say miss are you alright in there?”

It was a man’s voice.  Cindy frowned and opened the door.

“Of course I’m alright!  I’m fucking fantastic you little squirt!” she spat at the businessman and brushed passed him rudely.

The man, nonplussed, turned to enter the cubicle and reeled back gagging.  It stank of sweat and sex, the mirror was shattered and the toilet sloped slightly.

Returning to her seat, Cindy noticed the flight was almost over.  There was no time to hit on the stewardess, so she listened to the last CD.  Her ruby red lips formed a perfect ‘O’ as the sheik revealed the truth to her…and she swallowed it hook, line and sinker.

***

Landing in London Cindy found her connecting flight had been delayed by several hours.  The blonde American considered flying back to the states to free the other true believing Global Protectors but decided that stopping the threat to her master was more important.  She looked at a bank of phone booths in the airport lobby and felt helpless.  The realisation that if she only knew his number or address she could warn him gnawed at her.  Eventually she tore herself away and did the only thing in this god-forsaken spot she could do that might occupy her mind; she went shopping.

***

When Cindy turned off King Saud street and entered the park that contained the Riyadh water tower, she found the rest of the party waiting for her.  It was early in the morning and it was already over 350C, so it wasn’t surprising to find the little group standing in its long shadow.  They were all wearing summer clothes except Scheherezade, who was in costume as Desert Scorpion.

Cindy wore the longest skirt she could find in her luggage (it almost reached her knees), black knee high socks, black elbow long gloves, trainers, a loose fitting blouse and a wide brimmed sun hat.  It was not what Cindy of old would have worn in a sun kissed country and neither was it what the new Cindy would have preferred; she felt like a whore exposing herself as she was and she marvelled at how Jillian, Erin and Carmen had managed to act so normally when they had arrived at the Global Protectors’ International House.

There was a tall, blonde woman with the group whom Cindy didn’t recognise at first.  The woman stood several inches taller than any of the others, her body was more desirable and her thick golden locks cascaded down her back.  She wore large sunglasses that acted like a domino mask to hide her face.

“So that’s Ultra Woman out of uniform,” Cindy thought.  “I’ll take great please in breaking you to my masters will.”

An image of this tall beauty in nothing but a leather harness and a bit between her teeth, being ridden and whipped by her flashed into Cindy’s mind.

Shannon spotted her and shouted and waved for her to come over.  The other women looked over to her.  Their faces seemed pleased to see her but Cindy felt nervous.  The young American girl humped her travel bag over her shoulder, crossed her arms over her stomach and hurried over to the group.

“Glad you could make it,” Kanika, the acting head of the Global Protectors, said tartly.

“Oh, Cindy, aren’t you all a muddle,” giggled Shannon.

“I… I didn’t know what to wear when I got off the plane.  I had to change in the ladies at the airport,” Cindy replied hurriedly.

“Modesty becomes you,” Kisume said with a straight face.

“Knock it off.  Cindy has a valid point.  We need to travel in secret but we’ll stick out like a sore thumb dressed as we are,” Kanika said sternly.  “We need to go native.  Scheherezade and I have hit the bazaars and have bought as wide a selection as we could of local clothes.”

Scheherezade, the Desert Scorpion, stepped aside to reveal three large carrier bags of clothes that had been on the floor under her magic cloak.

“Take your pick, sisters,” she said, adding, “Although maybe Ultra Woman should go first as she is the tallest and hardest to fit.”

Cindy smiled inwardly and wondered what the rest would think if they knew she had a black khimar in her travel bag already and that she had worn it all the way from London!  Cindy had told the truth when she said she had changed at the airport, but not the whole truth.  Indeed she still wore the socks and gloves she had travelled in.

Briefly she recalled her shopping trip in London and its vibrant Muslim community.  She had entered an impressive shop, off Oxford road, that catered to the faithful.  At first the owner of the shop had been suspicious of the blonde, green-eyed American girl, but when she admitted she knew little of the true faith but that she was travelling to the holy land to be with her fiancé and meet his family and, so, wanted something to wear that wouldn’t offend then everything changed.  Smiling the owner summoned his wife and daughters to help her choose and learn how to dress in traditional Muslim style clothes.

Cindy spent a happy hour and a half with her ‘sisters’ in the changing rooms, trying on abayas (neck to floor pull-over gowns), jilbabs (shapeless, light coat from neck to floor), shayalas (large head scarves) and even a khimar (the ‘traditional’ Muslim woman look i.e. head to floor cover gown).  Her ‘sisters’ had laughed as she stood dressed in the black khimar that now was packed in her bag.  Six foot was the largest they had in the shop and Cindy, in her heeled boots, stood six foot six!  Even after kicking off her boots there was a noticeable gap, but Cindy had fallen in love with it.  It was the mother who suggested opaque black socks and Cindy had jumped on the idea and bought matching gloves at the same time.  By the time she left the shop in her black khimar the blonde had added several other items to her wardrobe: a misty pink ‘V’ necked abaya, a dark blue jilbab, two shayalas (black and light blue) a spare full niqab (face mask) and a selection of pretty hijab pins to keep her shayalas in place.  In some respects ‘old’ Cindy was still present.

The ‘all American girl’ came out of her revelry to her Brooke saying, “It’s all very well sneaking into his palace but what then?  As soon as we enter it we will become ensnared by the music he has playing there all the time.”

“Not so, Brooke,” the Japanese heroine replied.  “I have in this case special ear plugs that generate a ‘white noise’ effect that are far superior to simple ear plugs.  Even after they are removed the numbing effect of the ‘white noise’ will block any sound from a little while.   I have even built a radio receiver into them keyed specifically to wrist microphones so we can communicate.”

“How long will we be deaf after taking out the plugs?” asked Scheherezade suspiciously.

“Not long I don’t think.  I had little time to test them.  So maybe this should be a quick mission once inside the palace.”

“What is the range of the communicators,” asked Ultra Woman.  It was the first time Cindy had heard her and she found the voice very sexy; only a hit of a north European accent, with each word spoken clearly and cleanly.

“About 200 miles.  I adapted them to be earplugs,”  Kisume answered.

“I’m sure they’ll be fine, Kisume,” Kanika reassured the young Asian girl.

Meanwhile Shannon had been rummaging through the bags, pulling out a number of plain garments.

“I think I’ll be okay with this stuff, but I don’t think any will fit Ultra Woman or Cindy,” she said over her shoulder.

“We’ll be alright if we wear the longest khimars with long socks and gloves, Shannon,” Cindy reassured her.  She turned to Ultra Woman smiling, “You have such thick long hair I doubt the largest shayala would cover it all.”

“Would the long socks and gloves be anything like the ones you are wearing, Cindy?” Scheherezade asked quietly.
Nobody else moved or made a sound.

“Your knowledge of Muslim attire is as thorough as it is surprising,” she continued.

Cindy realised she had screwed up.  Quick as a flash she flung her travel bag at Brooke and, spinning round, landed a vicious kick on the briefcase Kisume was holding.  The case and Kisume went flying as Brooke also tumbled to the floor.  There Cindy’s luck ran out.  Scheherezade dived on the case and rolled away wrapping her cloak around her; invisible!  Cindy had a split second to think.  She had wanted to destroy the ear-plugs but that was not possible now.  Now she had to get a message to the sheik to warn him that the Global Protectors were coming after him.  She flew straight up into the air just as Kanika and Shannon cannoned into each other in the place she had left.  Brooke soared after her, but Cindy didn’t care; she was the fastest and most athletic Global Protector – Brooke wouldn’t catch her.

Kisume lay on the floor… still.  Kanika pointed after the fleeing heroine, “Stop her!  She’s heading for the water tower!”

Kanika had divined Cindy’s plan immediately.  The American heroine wanted to smash one of Riyadh landmarks and start a superheroine fight not far from a couple of Saudi palaces.  If that didn’t make the news across Saudi Arabia it could only mean George W had invaded another country!

Shannon stumbled to her feet and looked around bemused.  Where was Ultra Woman?

Cindy sped on towards the tower leaving Brooke in her wake.  Cindy could already see the headlines as the tower filled her vision.  Suddenly it disappeared from view as something knocked her sideways with the force of a bullet train.  The American girl twisted and wriggled but whoever it was clung on; it was Ultra Woman!  It the few seconds Cindy had travelled towards the tower, Ultra Woman had shot high into the sky and power-dived with superhuman accuracy at the brainwashed heroine.  Their tangled forms shot passed the tower and arced towards a clump of trees and bushes beyond just as Ultra Woman had designed.  Desperately, Cindy rammed her elbow brutally into her rivals face.  Then again and again, but Ultra Woman hung on and kept forcing her down.  Brooke arrived and wrestled with the American girl’s legs, receiving wild kicks in the process.  The three heroines crashed through the trees and landed in the bushes.

Meanwhile Kanika took control of the situation at the meeting place.

“Shamrock, give the others a hand with Star Maiden.  I’ll look to Rising Sun,” the black woman commanded, effortlessly switching to codenames.

Shannon dashed off along the ground, she could see the three women falling and judge where they would land, as Kanika went to the fallen Asian girl.  Kisume was just recovering.

“Lie still while I check you out, Rising Sun,” whispered Kanika soothingly.  Quickly the African woman checked for broken bones, concussion and sprains before giving the Asian girl a clean bill of health.

“Right!” said Kanika.  “Desert Scorpion, I hope you can hear me.  We’re going after the others on foot to avoid drawing any more attention to ourselves.”

Quickly the two Global Protectors picked up all the left baggage and hurried off.

***

Cindy thrashed around in the bushes screaming curses at her companions but Ultra Woman and Brooke held on all the same.  Cindy went berserk and Ultra Woman lost some grip.

“Hold on Diamond, she’s getting away!” the Blonde Amazon cried.

Brooke didn’t have the luxury of replying, she was too busy trying to control the brainwashed American’s legs.  Just as it seemed as though Cindy was going to break free Shannon bowled into the fray.

“No, Shamrock,” Ultra Woman gasped.  “Hold her here so I can free my right hand.”

The young Irish girl struggled to comply and the Amazonian heroine switched her right hand to Cindy’s neck.

“Now if I can just do this right,” Ultra Woman thought.  “I can’t hold back but if I apply too much pressure she might die!”

The Amazon applied a nerve hold to Cindy’s neck with her right hand and, secretly, another to her spine with her left.  She increased the pressure, jabbed once sharply…and Cindy went limp.

“What did you do!” shrieked Shannon.

Brooke just collapsed with relief.  Whatever it was it hadn’t come soon enough she though.

Ultra Woman checked Cindy for pulse and breathing.  “It is all right she is just unconscious.”

Shannon relaxed and sat down to catch her breath and exchanged glances with an equally exhausted Brooke.  Ultra Woman stood looking out for the other team members, apparently unfazed by the fight.

Eventually Kanika and Kisume entered the bushes and Desert Scorpion just appeared from nowhere as she flung back her cloak.  She held the case with the ear-plugs; it was badly dented.

Kisume moaned, “Oh no!  My ear-plugs.”

Kanika put a hand on her shoulder to restrain her, “We have to leave this area now before we’re stopped and questioned.  Star Maiden may still have succeeded in alerting the sheik to our presence and that we’re not his slaves.”

Ultra Woman’s calm voice chipped in, “I think I can help there.  I have access to a penthouse suit at the Arabian Star Hotel.  It’s not far from here and we can make a discrete landing on the roof-top garden.”

Kanika thought for a moment and then agreed that heading there was the best think to do.  She told Brooke to carry Cindy.  Desert Scorpion handed the case to Kisume and started to hand over the remaining luggage she was carrying.
 
“If we are going to be flying anywhere”, she explained, “I shall need my carpet.  I will call in at the A3V headquarters to pick it up.  I might be able to spike any reporting of this event and learn the latest about the sheik.”

“Okay, but we’re on a clock now.  Be at the penthouse before 10am.  I don’t fancy flying across desert in the noon-day sun,” Kanika told her.

The team split up leaving a small crowd in the park by the water tower.

***

The remaining Global Protectors and Ultra Woman flew down into the penthouse roof garden.  Ultra Woman rushed to open the French doors.  The others hurried in behind her, dropping travel bags anywhere they could once inside.  Brooke carried Cindy through to one of the bedrooms and placed her on a double bed.

“How long will she be out?” asked Kanika.

“For a normal human about an hour”, replied Ultra Woman, “but for her I couldn’t say.”

Brooke came back from a quick search of the suite, “We might be able to restrain her if we bound her tightly to one of those solid wooden chairs in the other room.  We could use these curtain sashes as rope.”

She held up four long sashes that she had pulled down from some curtain rails.
“I don’t like the idea of binding anyone that tightly for the time we will be away,” replied Kanika.  As a doctor from a war ravaged country she had had to deal with the effects of torture and had learned through bitter experience may of the torture’s tricks; tightly restraining a victim for hours was a common one and its effects could be deadly.

Kisume came into the bedroom, “How is she?” she asked in her polite, quiet voice.

“Okay.  But could come round at any moment,” replied Kanika.

“I have some samples of the drug we used against the others.  I could administer a dose.”

“But that only lasts for fifteen minutes tops”, interjected Brooke, “and we’ll be gone for hours.”

Kanika looked hard at Kisume then asked, “How long could you keep Cindy under for safely?”

“I don’t know.  We never designed the drug for prolonged use and we were rushed.  We tried to be cautious and cover all the known problems but…Valkyrie would know…” the young Asian girl trailed off.

“Well Valkyrie isn’t here and I need an answer!” snapped Kanika; immediately regretting it.  “I’m sorry but this is getting too much.  Can you give me any answer?”

Kisume shrugged and look apologetic, “Sorry, maybe an hour...or two and that would be repeat doses every fifteen minutes…”

Ultra Woman spoke softly so that only Kanika could make it all out, “I understand your concerns about having Cindy bound, but could Kisume stay here with Cindy bound and every hour or so sedate her?  That way she could be unbound for a while and her limbs massaged and the drug used sparingly.”

The African woman nodded her thanks.  “Brooke, show Kisume how to bind Cindy.  Kisume, when you’ve done that I need to know if you can do it on your own and if you can also sedate Cindy when she’s awake.”

“I took some hypodermics from our med lab.  They were designed to puncture our skin.”

The two Global Protectors left with the unconscious blonde between them.  Kanika flopped onto the bed.

“And now we wait,” she said to herself.

***

By the time Scheherezade arrived the rest were ready to leave.

They had tried to interrogate Cindy when she came to but learned nothing except that she was as brainwashed as the others had been.  Cindy had then been moved into a bedroom in case a maid entered and found a bound Western woman in the room and raised an alarm.  Kisume had had chance to sedate Cindy and massage her limbs on a couple of occasions with the others watching from out of sight and the process seemed to work well.

A search of Cindy’s luggage brought forth various Muslim garments, which Scheherezade quickly named, demonstrated and commented on, particularly their conservative style, and fetish-ware, which Scheherezade discreetly passed over.  The CDs had raised more questions than they’d answered.  Why had Cindy listened to them long enough to be so affected?  It was not possible, Kisume had stated adamantly!  Cindy, Kisume had argued, had known mind control CDs were used by the sheik so, as soon as she didn’t hear her usual music, ought to have stopped listening; there was no way subliminals could effect you that quickly she continually insisted.  But by the time they had to leave they still had no answers.  They left the CDs stacked neatly on a coffee table; if things went badly a careful study of them might be the only way to free Cindy and the rest.

Kisume handed out the earplugs and wrist communicators to those who were going and waved them off.  They had decided to fly, Scheherezade on her carpet, to save time but it would still be several hours before they reached the sheik’s palace.

***

The heroines flew off following the main road south west for almost 100 miles, then turning North West along a lesser road carried on into the region of Nafud As Sirr.  They were travelling across Arabian Desert now and only the road kept them on course.  After another fifty miles Kanika indicated to land and the group gathered together for a breather; though Ultra Woman didn’t seem to need it and Desert Scorpion only wanted to stretch her legs and drink some water after sitting on the carpet for over two hours.  It was past the middle of the day but the heat was tremendous.  Desert Scorpion could only look on enviously at the superheroines who seemed barely effected.

“We should be there within the hour,” she said between swigs from her water bottle.

The Tigress nodded and asked her to describe the layout of the palace one more time before they went in.  Confident that they could find the women’s quarters, the sheik’s quarters and the major rooms, the Kenyan heroine checked in with Kisume and then signalled that they should continue their flight.

***
 

Landing on a dune overlooking the palace in the mid-afternoon, the Tigress, Ultra Woman and Diamond scanned the gardens and rooms they could see into using their enhanced vision.  Shamrock and Desert Scorpion packed away the magic carpet and the few travelling goods they had brought at the base of the dune.  The three heroines joined them after their reconnaissance.  The Tigress seemed glum.

“I had hoped to disguise ourselves as harem girls to scout out the place but there don’t seem to be any Western or African women in there,” she explained.

“Is that surprising?” replied Desert Scorpion.  “The sheik is still a small time crook in the global community.  His reach had never left the Arab world until the Global Protectors arrived.  He has wives, daughters and lovers of may wealthy and powerful Arab men under his control, but he has never had the opportunity to capture foreign women linked to powerful men.  Tourists he could get but power is what he wants.”
 
Diamond looked at the position of the sun, “I wonder how Rising Sun is doing.  We should press on.”

“Yes!” agreed Ultra Woman.  “I too worry about that slight Japanese girl alone with her fanatical friend.  She seemed a gentle soul and that may betray her.”

The Tigress looked round the group, “Okay then it’s agreed.  We go in hard and fast.  We have to capture the sheik, the source of the brainwashing, Doctor Boyd and Desert Scorpion’s sister before any of them can escape or be destroyed.  Given he has no other super-powered help and we are aware of his music powers, I think it’s safe to split up and enter from five locations.  Head for the Main Hall on the upper floor searching as you go, but don’t take more than 10 minutes and don’t break radio silence unless you see the sheik!  Finally don’t break anything to do with the brainwashing, Rising Sun will need to study it intact.  Is that all clear?”

The band of heroines nodded.

“Okay, get in position around the palace and I’ll give the signal over the radio to go in.  Good luck and don’t forget what this creep is like and has done to our own.”

Four heroines flew off and Desert Scorpion made her way carefully through the dunes towards the ominous palace and, hopefully, her sister.

***

The palace was wondrous, set in luscious gardens in the middle of the Arabian Desert, as if an ancient tale had come true.  Its main building rose four stories high, with stout towers at both front corners and two side-wings sweeping back behind it.  Its flat roof housed a garden and pool to rival legendary Babylon.  Several outlying buildings, each building the epitome of Moorish architecture, lay scattered around it in the grounds.  Fine mists from hidden sprinklers kept this green oasis from the ravages of sun and sand.  There were no watchtowers, no walls to keep people out…or in, but, as Brooke noted with her expert eye as she hovered with the sun behind her, each of the harem girls carried some weapon; a knife, a Tazer or a pistol.

The Desert Scorpion was the last to get in position.  Tigress checked the others and then spoke into her radio, “Remember radio silence from now on.  Everyone’s ready, so let’s hit hard and fast.”

She clicked the little radio off and activated her earplugs.  Around the palace the others did the same then entered the sheik’s lair.

Shamrock flew swiftly towards the palace and smashed through a pair of wooden double doors.  There was a splintering of wood and crash as the doors fell off their hinges.  She was surprised that she had heard it.  The redhead looked at her wrist communicator; neither the ‘On’ nor ‘Off’ light glowed.  It was then that she heard the music, faintly through the earplugs.  Her heart froze in horror and she looked back to the entrance considering flight.  Then her Irish hotheadedness kicked in.  The music was barely audible, there were no words and besides, Scheherezade had visited this place with no ill effects.  The Irish girl turned and plunged into the palace; she wasn’t going to let the side down!

***

Tigress shattered an exquisitely beautiful balcony and window as she smashed her way into one of the palace’s third floor rooms.  She heard nothing; which was weirdly both reassuring and unnerving.  The room held a single console a few tables with CDs, smooth plastic sheets of unknown use and notepads scattered on them, a few cupboards, what looked like a large casket and a smaller, glass enclosed room in one corner; containing a padded chair and restraints.  There was nobody about but the console was active.

A quick search of the room confirmed what the Tigress had suspected, she had hit pay dirt; this was the machine transmitting the music.  It was here that the CDs were made.  She dearly wanted to wreak the room or turn off the machine at least, but she knew she mustn’t do the former and the latter was beyond her.  Yes she recognised the room for what it was but the technology was beyond anything she had seen before and there was no obvious off switch.

Frustrated she left the room.  Outside she smashed corridor walls to pile masonry in front of the door to prevent anyone entering except by the window.  Then she left to keep the 10 minute appointment.

***

Ultra Woman went in low, smashing through doors and windows like a tornado.  Frightened women ducked for cover in her wake.  The blonde Amazon was deaf to their shrieks or her own noise.  Her flight was brought to a halt by an imposing bronze door at one end of a long pillared corridor.  Large and engraved, it had a huge bronze bar across it.

“To seal something or someone in,” realised Ultra Woman.

She placed her hands on the bar tempted to lift it and look beyond the door but stopped herself.

“No!  I’ll wait for the others,” she decided and flew off to the rendezvous down a small side passage.

***

Wrapped in her cloak of invisibility, Desert Scorpion hoped she moved silently from room to room.  Her only thought was to find her sister; little Dunyazad.  She scrutinised every female she saw as she moved through the palace as carefully as she could but the harem women were running this way and that, clearly in response to the other heroines and this made it hard for the Arabian Agent.  Disregarding the time she continued the search for her sister, let the other deal with the sheik, she thought, four superheroines shouldn’t have that much trouble.

***

Diamond did not plunged straight into the palace like the others.  She had noticed a camouflaged helipad in the palace grounds and decided to trash what was obviously the sheik’s getaway vehicle.  It hadn’t taken long and she had regretted knocking out the pretty, young, female pilot (probably another of the sheik’s slaves).  Looking around she saw what looked like a communications array on the palace’s roof; satellite dishes and microwave transmitters/receivers.  She flew up to get a better look.  Bullets zipped passed her as small groups of enslaved women, recovered from the initial shock of the assault, regrouped.  Leaving the array Diamond smashed into the palace through a delicately carved lattice-work window on an upper floor.  It was a bedroom with two startled girls in the bed!  The Afrikaner dashed passed, sickened by the corruption of the girls and determined to make the sheik pay.

***
 

Shamrock arrived at the entrance to the main upper hall first; she was several minutes early.  After what had happened she was eager to hunt down the sheik and teach him a rough lesson.  Her hearing had improved in the few minutes it took to reach the entrance and Shannon suspected the earplugs had finally given up the ghost; the music was only muffled slightly by them.

Not waiting for her companions she burst into the long marble hall.  At the far end the wall was draped with fine Arabian rugs and in front of the hangings stood the sheik and a young girl!  Shamrock’s blood boiled and she charged at the arrogantly smiling man.

“Stop!” he cried out.  “Before you do something you regret.  You must listen to me Sheik Ali Akbar al-Sakkuain.”

The feisty slowed down and stopped; fists still clenched and anger in her eyes.  He was right, she realised, in her current state she might murder him and Jillian and Kanika were always complaining about her hot-headed antics.  On an impulse she pulled her earplugs out and tossed them away, after all she thought they weren’t working.  She heard the music more clearly now and realised how beautiful and soothing it was.

“How can this old pervert have such great taste?” Shamrock wondered.

The sheik’s oily smile widened.  “Now, my pretty young thing, you must calm down.  No doubt your friends are in an equally furious mood and it wouldn’t do for them to lay their hands on me until they too are subdued don’t you think?”

“Oh I’ll make sure they’re subdued before they touch you, you monster!” Shamrock snapped back.  “Nobody is going to do anything they’ll regret.”

“Excellent, you will make an excellent slave.  You had better protect me from your friends whilst I talk my young companion here.”

The sheik turned his back on the red-headed, Irish girl and talked quickly and quietly with the young Arab girl.

“Hmmph,” though Shamrock as she turned to watch the main door, “slave indeed!  Well of course one day when the right master comes along I’ll jump at the chance; after all I’d be great as a slave.  I’m sexy, young, passionate and loyal, but if he thinks he’s the one, Ha!  He may have great taste in music, be very observant to notice my submissive longings and of course I’m his pretty young thing…and am doing what he says…” her thoughts trailed off as she suddenly realised, “I’m his and I naturally obey him…do slaves choose their master?  Maybe deep down my submissive side is telling me something…”

She shuddered but couldn’t say from disgust, excitement or lust.  She stole a sideways look at the sheik, who had opened a secret door behind the wall hangings.

“Maybe…” she began to think.

The hall doors crashed open again.  Shamrock turned back to see the Tigress, Diamond and Ultra Woman framed in the doorway.  Instantly Diamond hurled herself at the sheik.

“Nooooo!” screamed Shamrock and tackled the blonde South African bringing her to the ground.  Diamond struggled fiercely and was about to break free when Shamrock changed her tactics and pulled both earplugs from the other woman’s ears; crushing them at the same time.  Diamond stood up and looked with horror at the young Irish girl then smashed through a nearby lattice window and flew off as if the devil were after her.

The Tigress and Ultra Woman ran up to the bemused Shamrock.  As Ultra Woman grabbed he, the Tigress punched her into unconsciousness.  The Tigress scooped up the unconscious girl and followed after Diamond.  Ultra Woman moved to get the sheik to find he had disappeared.  Only the Arab girl was left and she was holding a gun to her own head!

“Stop or I will kill myself,” she shouted in Arabic.  Ultra Woman couldn’t hear her words but got the message and stopped.  Where was Scheherezade she wondered?  Was this Dunyazad?

Diamond crashed into a sand dune about a mile from the palace only a few seconds after losing her earplugs.  There was a ringing in her ears which suggested her hearing might be returning very soon.

“Not much leeway there,” she thought.  “I suppose Kisume will be pleased; after all the potential deafening was a side effect and not designed.”
 

Unheard, the Tigress landed beside her with the unconscious Shamrock in her arms.  She placed the girl on the sand and signed to Diamond to take her away back to Riyadh.  The Afrikaner looked puzzled.  The Tigress signed again.  Still no response can from the Blonde.  As a doctor in a remote part of Kenya, the Tigress had had to learn sign language to treat the deaf or defend who came to her surgery.  She found it hard to believe that any heroine worth her salt wouldn’t have done the same.  She made a mental note for some intense training when things were back to normal but in the meantime the ebony beauty resorted to crude basic gestures and mouthing words.

“My hearing has returned,” shouted Diamond as if to a deaf woman.  She pointed to her ears and smiled.  The Tigress rolled her eyes and replied, “Take Shamrock back to Riyadh.  Roll her in Desert Scorpion’s magic carpet to bind her.  She’s been got at and it’s too risky leaving her here.  Ultra Woman, Desert Scorpion and I should be enough to wrap this up.”

“Okay, but can you help me find where we stashed our stuff?  Just in case our fiery red-head wakes up quickly.”

The acting leader of the Global Protectors looked back to the palace.  She desperately wanted to get back and help Ultra Woman tackle the sheik.  The quick defeat of Shamrock had shocked her to the core and she feared the others might also be corrupted if she wasn’t there.

“No.  I must get back.  If the sheik should trick Ultra Woman or Desert Scorpion we’re lost,” she shouted back.  Then with an encouraging smile flew back towards the palace.  Diamond picked up the unconscious Shamrock and began searching for their stowed gear.

The Tigress flew back to the smashed latticework window then stopped outside; hovering.  Before entering she raised her wrist communicator and boosted its signal strength to reach Riyadh.  Cutting out the other receivers she called Kisume on a secure private channel.

***

Kisume had Cindy laid out on the cool marble floor of one of the penthouse bedrooms.  Cindy was unconscious and only dressed in her blouse and skirt.  Kisume was massaging the blonde American’s wrists when the call can through.

“Just when I’m about finished,” sighed the Asian girl.

She checked Cindy’s face.  The blonde still seemed to be flat out, so Kisume dashed into the next room and picked up her earplugs and wrist radio.

“Hello, Rising Sun here.  Over,” she chirped into the microphone.

“Rising Sun, Diamond is returning with Shamrock.  It looks as though the sheik got to her.  Over,” the Tigress said.

For some reason Kisume felt clarification was in order, “Say again, Tigress, who did the sheik get?  Over.”

“Shamrock.  He got to Shamrock,” came the reply.

“Oh no!” cried the Asian girl (Shannon and she were the youngest team members and despite their differences had become great friends).  “Is she all right?  He didn’t…o..over?”

“No... I mean yes and no he didn’t have time.  Look I’ll have to go.  Over.”

For some reason Kisume didn’t want the conversation to end so she asked, “Could you boost your signal please?  How long will they take to arrive?  Over.”

“It’s at fully strength now.  Several hours I suspect.  Now I’ll…”

“Should I come out to replace them?  Over”, Kisume asked hurriedly to keep the conversation going.

“No!  Wait for Diamond,” came back the exasperated reply.

“And then what, Tigress?  Over.”

“Just wait!  I’ve got to go.  Over and out!” snapped the reply and the connection went dead.
 

Kisume looked at her communicator with a puzzled look on her face.  Something suddenly felt amiss.  Her analytical mind raced: Kanika sounded stressed but what was causing the stress?  It hadn’t sound as if she was in a fight.  Shannon had fallen but had been contained before any real damage had been done.  Surely Kanika, Ultra Woman and Desert Scorpion could defeat the sheik.  No…Kanika had become more stressed talking to her…but why?  Had she said something wrong?  No but she had dragged the conversation on longer than Kanika had wanted.  Her questions now seemed lame, almost unprofessional, so why had she asked them and why ask to have the signal boosted when she could hear Kanika perfectly…because…because… there was no sound of battle in the background only delightful music!  Oh no! she realised, she had listened to the sheik’s music!  She didn’t feel any different but she knew it had affected her.  What would happen if the others heard the music and then meet the sheik himself?  Had that happened to Shannon?  Urgently she raised her wrist to her mouth to warn Kanika not to use the communicators anymore but a fair-skinned fist beat it and Kisume fell into darkness.

***

The Tigress flew back into the upper hall to find Ultra Woman stood stock-still.  Beyond here a slight Arabian girl held a gun to her own head.  She landed softly behind the blonde Amazon.

“What a predicament!” the Tigress thought.  She looked closely at the girl’s eyes and knew she would shoot.  “Okay, okay, options, options, options.  Well she’s bound to tire eventually, the gun will waver and we can rush her but that could be some time and the sheikh might get away or worse come back and see he has us over a barrel.  Maybe she won’t do anything if I head away from her.”

The deputy leader of the Global Protectors slowly moved one foot back.  Instantly the girls eyes widened and she stiffened as if preparing to shoot.  The Tigress stopped then moved her foot back.

“Damn!” she cursed.  “Give me someone I can pound any day.”

Gritting her teeth she swore to herself that the sheik would pay dearly for callously using a young woman as a human shield.

Time passed and the Tigress got more agitated.  There were no clocks or watches to know how long had elapsed and every minute she imagined the sheik plotting their downfall with his harem of brainwashed girls.

***

When Kisume came to she was bound to the chair they had bound Cindy in.  The difference being she was gagged, naked, in the main room next to an expensive sound system and with headphones on.  The machine was on but not playing.  Her eyes widened in terror as she noticed the CD stacker had the number five illuminated on it!  Movement out of the corner of her eye made Kisume turn quickly to see a woman leave one of the bedrooms.  She was tall and dressed in a long Muslim gown that covered her head to toe.  Her hands were covered in black gloves and her sandaled feet hand black socks on.  Above a thick black veil that covered the woman’s lower face two emerald green eyes looked at her hungrily; it was Cindy.  As the young American woman walked gracefully towards her captive she spoke softly.

“Oh Kisume, don’t be afraid.  Don’t fight it, please.  You’ll thank me afterwards… as only an Asian slut can.  We are just two godless sluts, Kisume, but I have been shown salvation and now I shall show it to you.”

The six foot something woman toward over the trembling girl.  Kisume shook her head from side to side and made desperate whining noises but it was to no avail.  Cindy leant her mouth close to Kisume’s right ear and said, “All the discs contain is the truth, but I suppose it’s hard to face the truth when you’re just a worthless whore like me.  It will only take a few hours.  I’ll be in the bedroom fucking myself and thinking of you and me and our master.  Afterwards I’m sure you’ll want to join me.”

With that she pressed ‘play’ a returned to the bedroom.

Kisume though desperately, “Maybe if I grind my teeth the noise will disrupt the music or raising my blood pressure… or keep swallowing…” but then the music started and all resistance and memory of wanting to resist evaporated.  The slender Asian girl just sat there and listed to the truth.  By the end of the first disc there were tears on her cheeks; of regret and joy.

Cindy let down her niqab and pulled off her khimar as she went to the bed.  The warm Arabian breeze from an open window played across her body.  She felt alive and aroused as she had never felt before.  She was in the country of her master, only a few hours away and free…free with a gift to bring him.  The blonde looked back to the other room, shaking her hair loose as she did so.  She stretched and caressed herself with her gloved hands, from her neck to her pert breasts, along her firm abdomen and down to her throbbing pussy.

“Mmmmm life was sooo good,” she thought.

Twisting, she flopped face-up on the bed and started to play with herself.  Her gloved hands roved over her body, their slight roughness triggering waves of pleasure.  Eventually her fingers played with the lips of her sex; at first softly stroking up and down then probing with growing frequency and force.  She let her left hand squeeze and caress her hardening nipples and let out cries of passion.  Cindy imagined the young Kisume’s face buried between her thighs as she took the sheik orally.  She had no idea what the sheik looked like, but that didn’t matter; it won’t matter anyway when I meet him later, thought the blonde American.  She imagined him bronzed and handsome, then old, then fat, then well endowed and finally unfortunate; with each incarnation she threw herself at him wantonly, with equal fervour.  With a shriek of ‘master’ she came and came, shuddering so violently she risked cracking the sturdy double bed.  Then she collapsed and drifted off into a warm sensual sleep.

When she woke almost two hours had passed.  She looked at her right hand; the glove was ruined having been soaked in sweat and cum.  She pealed her gloves off and threw them away.  She would have to get replacements and something for little Kisume too she realised.  With a wicked grin she dialled for room service.  She got through to a well spoken woman whose English was excellent.  Quickly Cindy asked if clothing could be ordered and was pleased to find out in a five star hotel almost anything could.

“Ma’am, we can supply you with anything.  There are many Western cloths shops from which we can order items immediately.  Although if a special fitting is required there would be a delay, naturally.”

“Anything?” Cindy asked.  “Even… er…” she feigned modesty, “intimate things.”

“Yes, Ma’am.  Anything and with the utmost discretion.”

Cindy’s red lips parted into a truly wicked smile, “Well then this is what I need…”

***

After the phone call Cindy went for a shower, Kisume would still be listening to the CDs and room-service would be a little while according to the receptionist considering some of the items were not ‘every day’.

“Maybe not for you,” Cindy had thought, glancing towards the room that held Kisume.

The shower didn’t take long; Cindy realised the futility of it as she fingered herself under it.

“Kisume will be finished now anyway”, she realised, “and I’ll just get all hot and sticky again and have to take another shower with Kisume.”

Leaving the shower Cindy walked naked into the main room.  She felt no need to hide herself from her former partner as they would be concubines of the sheik that very day.  The sight that greeted her was startling; Kisume had freed her left hand as was busily fucking herself with it.  The headphones were still on her head and the player showed track 4 was still running.  She must have repeated some of the tracks, Cindy realised considering how long Kisume had had.  The young Asian’s eyes bored into Cindy’s then deliberately looked her over.  Kisume panted something in Japanese again and again, then changed to English.

“Fuck me, Cindy!  Fuck me!  Eat me out, you bitch, or I’ll die.  Please!”

Cindy took a couple of steps forward eagerly; then stopped.  Kisume hadn’t heard all the CDs yet and the last one was so important nothing must distract from it.

“No, you Asian whore.  You don’t tell your mistress anything,” Cindy improvised in a cold ‘dominatrix’ voice.  “You’ll wait until I say, you slut.  Listen to the CDs as our master wants and only then will I’ll fuck you senseless.”

Kisume’s head lolled back and she let out a sigh as she orgasmed.  Cindy watched as the girl lifted her weak hand to her mouth and started to clean her fingers.  The CD player clicked over to disk five and there was a knock at the door.

Using super-speed, Cindy dashed to the bathroom and grabbed a bath towel.  Then she went to the door.  A rather cute Middle Eastern woman stood outside with three shopping bags.  She was dressed in a smart business suit of light grey.  Cindy found herself staring at the woman’s long glossy raven-black hair.

“Your shopping, Ma’am,” the woman said coolly, proffering the bags.

“Oh!  Of course.  Please forgive me I was in the shower…”

Kisume let out an exultant cry of ‘Take me, Master!  Take me!’ from the main room.

Looking at the shocked face of the room service lady Cindy panicked.  She grabbed the woman by her lapels and pulled her into the penthouse.  A quick ‘love tap’ rendered her unconscious.  Cindy closed the door and carried the woman into the main room; leaving the towel she had had to drop at the door.  Kisume had taken her headphones off and was untying herself.

“Did you have to knock her out?” she asked dryly.

“Did you have to cry out ‘Take me, Master!  Take me!’” Cindy replied.

Kisume paused, pretending to consider Cindy’s question.  “Yes,” she replied with feigned emphasis.

Cindy smiled remembering her first time, “Yes, I suppose you do.”

The Blonde placed the unconscious woman gently on a sofa and caressed her face and hair.

“I think the master could find a use for her.  She’s very pretty and has this wonderfully superior tone.  I could imagine her, whip in hand, breaking girls to his will.”

“Not if you don’t help me with my feet.  Brooke and Shannon will be here any minute now.”

“So?  We can take them.”

“I’ve been masturbating for almost two hours and I guess you haven’t been idle in the bedroom either.  You know how our powers get when we’re aroused.  I doubt we could overcome Brooke on her own and I doubt Shannon will be in any state to help us.”

“What do you mean?”  Cindy asked as she untied Kisume’s ankles.

“I don’t know the details but it seems our master has some hold over our Irish friend.”

“Excellent, so she’s one of us?”

“Unlikely.  The brainwashing we have undergone takes hours and is very thorough.  Shannon could only have been exposed for half an hour at most and to something less strong I would surmise from my earlier experience.”

Kisume stood up and walked about unsteadily.  Cindy stood and put her arms around her to support her; they kissed.  It was their first lesbian kiss.  Kisume’s slender arms slipped around her friend’s neck and Cindy swept her new Asian lover off her feet.  Still they kissed as Cindy carried Kisume to the bed.  Only when Cindy lowered her to the mattress and the kiss was broken did Kisume come to her senses.

“No.  Brooke will come.  We must pretend to be as before and hide the woman.  I have a plan.”

Desert Scorpion played cat and mouse with the sheik’s harem throughout the large palace.  She had her wrist blaster (her scorpion sting) set to stun as she fought a running battle with groups of scantily clad but well armed women.  It didn’t help that she couldn’t hear them coming.  She used her cloak sparingly as she didn’t want the women to know of it.  If they did the Desert Scorpion feared they would simple cut loose with machinegun fire in random directions and her cloak would neither stop nor deflect a bullet; then there was the danger the women might shot each other which she could not let happen.  The running battles had been going on for so long; she knew some of her first victims would be recovering.  Things couldn’t go on like this, she realised.  Frustrated she wondered where the Global Protectors were.  “Surely they could hear… no”, she caught herself, “they couldn’t” - she would have to fetch them.

Darting down a narrow corridor she entered a long, pillared hall with a set of bronze double doors at one end.  They were the doors Ultra Woman had found some time ago.  Something about those doors fascinated the Arabian agent.  Cautiously she approached, noting the heavy bronze bar and the intricate decoration on the door panels.  A bullet whistled passed her head and her combat reflexes kicked in.  She dived out of the way of a hail of bullets and ducked behind a pillar.  She waited for the lull that had to occur then returned fire strafing the hall.  Half a dozen women fled to cover but one deliberately dived in front of a blast and fell.  Behind that woman stood the sheik!  His eyes were wide with terror.  He scuttled behind a pillar as shot after shot followed him.  Two more women threw themselves in their path and fell in serve to their master.  The remaining enslaved women started to fire again and Desert Scorpion was forced to duck for cover.

As she waited for her opportunity, Desert Scorpion considered her situation.  She knew she couldn’t remain where she was – more followers of the sheik could arrive at any moment and block off the side passages.  However, the sheik had been heading for the bronze doors and she also knew she couldn’t let him reach them.  Maybe it was women’s intuition but she knew that the real secret of the sheik lay beyond them.  Acting on that impulse she set her scorpion sting to fire a continuous high energy beam at the bar, hoping that in all the confusion no-one would notice her welding it to the door.  Every-so-often she had to break away and switch settings to send a flurry of shots down the hall.  Eventually she judge she could do no more, the fire directed at her had grown and she expected a charge at any moment.  Deftly she unzipped her boots to move more quietly over the marble floor and wrapped her cloak around her.  She waited for the charge.  When it came she took off across the room as fast as she dared and yet keep the folds of her cloak around her.  It felt like an age; the women were milling around her pillar and she wasn’t out of the room.  The sheik arrived under escort and started issuing orders.  Scheherezade pick up the pace and slipped into the shadows of a side exit.  There she glanced back.

Some of the women, about a dozen, were starting to search the room whilst another two tried to lift the bar; four more surrounded the sheik, who crouched behind them.  The two at the door were clearly in trouble and quickly the Sheik ordered two more from the search to help but to no avail.  Scheherezade took aim, planning her fire pattern, and then let rip.  Women dropped left, right and centre.  Those that remained hurried to surround the sheik and all moved off in a comical manner out of the room.  Nine slaves lay on the floor.

Desert Scorpion beat a hasty retreat clutching her boots.  She knew she was very late for the rendezvous but headed for the great upper hall anyway.

***

The Tigress couldn’t bear it.  She and Ultra Woman had been stood like statues for what felt like ages; without a clock it was hard to tell.  How could they be rendered so powerless by a normal?  She fumed to herself.  “Surely normals found guns heavy?  Her arm must be aching…She had to lose concentration soon…” but the girl kept up the threat.

The Desert Scorpion peeped into the great hall and let out a yell, “Dunyazad!  Sister!”

The enslaved girl let her guard down for a second as she turned in astonishment to see her older sister.  Tigress and Ultra Woman pounced on her knocking the gun across the room.  Ultra Woman applied pressure as she had done to Cindy earlier in the day and little Dunyazad slumped in their arms.  Desert Scorpion ran up and took her sister off the other two.  Ultra Woman went to speak into her communicator when suddenly the Tigress held her wrist in a vice like grip.  Urgently the African woman made a circling motion with her free hand then pointed to Ultra Woman’s communicator and finally to her own ears.  Understanding dawned on the blonde Amazon’s face.  The Tigress wondered if either of the other two also knew international sign language but decided not to try.  Instead she pointed at the group and then towards the smashed window.  Ultra Woman took Dunyazad back and Kanika picked up Desert Scorpion and the four flew out and away from the palace.
Returning to their ‘base camp’ Scheherezade went into a fit when she saw it had been rifled and her magic carpet was missing.  Kanika tried to calm her; knowing Brooke had it.  Eventually the group settled down and they took off their ear plugs and waited for the deafness to fade.  It was late afternoon.

After a few minutes Kanika spoke, “Diamond took Shamrock back to Riyadh using your carpet, Desert Scorpion.  The sheik somehow captured Shamrock and rolling her in the carpet was the only restraint Diamond and I could come up with.”

“I understand”, replied the Syrian beauty, “but what do we do now?  I have found my sister but she is a slave to that evil man’s whims.  I have to risk going back to find a way to cure her.”

“You shall not go alone, my friend,” said Ultra Woman.

“No,” added Kanika in support.

“I found the room where the CDs are made and the music produced.  I smashed up the passage that lead to it pretty badly so I don’t think the sheik will regain access for some time,” Kanika said changing the subject.

“Then it was not behind two bronze doors?” Scheherezade asked puzzled.  “I came across them in my searching and believed something of great value to the sheik lies behind them.  Many of his followers fell trying to get access.  Don’t look so shocked I only stunned them.  I left the doors solidly welded shut and came looking for you; I left the sheik desperate to get beyond them.”

“I saw those doors too but left them,” Ultra Woman mentioned.  “I felt they were holding something in.  The sheik must have fled there after meeting us, Tigress.”

“To get something to beat us with perhaps?” Scheherezade asked rhetorically.  “I think that should be our next stop.  Get beyond the doors and see what the sheik’s secret is.”

“No,” replied Kanika firmly.  “He already has a weapon to beat us with or are you forgetting your sister?  She kept us prisoner for longer than many super-villains I know.  What if she had ordered us to take out our earplugs or else she would shoot?  We would have been lost like Shamrock and the sheik would have won.  He only ran away because he thought we would treat her as he does and risk her death just to get to him.  No we must round up and knockout all his slaves first and then go after the sheik or this doors.”

The other two agreed.

Using their super speed, strength and flight, Kanika and Ultra Woman erected some cover for Dunyazad by stripping branches from palm trees in the palace grounds.  Then all three set off to subdue the sheikh’s harem and discover the secret beyond the bronze doors.

***

Brooke landed on the penthouse room garden and carried the trussed up Shannon through the open patio doors and into the main room of the penthouse.  Kisume dropped a hotel brochure onto a coffee table as she stood up to greet her companion.

“Hi, Brooke, how is Shannon?  Has the sheik been captured or hurt?”

“Sorry I’m late I had to get a gag for or Irish friend here.  She was becoming quit vocal.”

Brooke laid the carpet along a sofa and looked at the furious face of the redhead.

“I don’t know what that bastard has done to her, but I’ll make him pay.  From her conversation before I gagged her I don’t think she believes she is one of his brainwashed slaves, only so concerned someone will get in to trouble if that greasy git took a few thumps whilst being captured she was prepared to fight us.”

Kisume stood next to Brooke, “She has a point.  The laws and customs are different here and you really could get into trouble if you had roughed up one of their great religious leaders…as he portrays himself”, she added hurriedly, “but you are correct.  Shannon would not normally consider the finer points of diplomacy.  But what of the sheik?  Did you get to take a few thumps at him?”

“No.  Shannon smashed my earplugs so I had to leave in a hurry.  I’m surprised Kanika hasn’t radioed to let you know.”

“She only called to let me know you were on the way…but I have some news!” Kisume beamed as she announced it.  “Cindy has talked as the drug wore off.  It seems Doctor Boyd is being shipped into the country and will arrive at Raihaimah tonight on a ship called The Star of Qasam.”

Brooke gave Kisume a disbelieving look, “She said all that whilst under the effects of the drug!”

“I have had to drug her a number of times now and been able to guide her conversation a little and of course she didn’t say ‘Raihaimah’ but ‘port’ and ‘ship’ and ‘Raymond’ but it fits.  There is a port called Raihaimah and it’s one of the closest to Riyadh and if there’s a chance of rescuing Doctor Boyd from his kidnappers…”  the young Asian girl petered off and looked a the cool, South African Blonde with her large pleading eyes; eyes she knew could always get her her way.

“Oh, all right I’ll go and check it out.  Raymond is probably some football player on campus.”

“If Cindy were thinking along those lines then surely she would moan ‘master Ali’?”

Brooke shuddered.

“Don’t go there,” she said and took one final look around.  “Are you going to be alright?”

“Me?  Oh yes.  Cindy has been an absolute delight,” Kisume said, eyes sparkling, as she handed Brooke a map.

“I’ve marked the port in red.”

Brooke glanced at the map, “It’s miles away!  I’ll be gone most of the night!”

“I guess they don’t make land-locked capitals like they used to,” Kisume replied with a smile.

“I’ll just say goodbye to Cindy then,” Brooke smiled back and poked her head round the bedroom door.  Cindy, she saw was bound and gagged in the chair.  Brooke waived, said goodbye to Kisume and flew out of the penthouse.

***

Brooke flew east across the city, then circled back.  She knew something was wrong but wanted her dark thoughts confirmed before she set off back to the sheik’s palace to tell Kanika.  It was clear to her trained detective eyes that something had gone on in the penthouse; from the water stains leading to the door, to the chaff marks on the heavy wooden chair by the sound system, the fact that 5 CDs were highlighted as being loaded in the CD player!  And Kisume’s obviously fake story about Doctor Boyd muttered by a gagged Cindy.

The Afrikaner heroine landed quietly on the room of the penthouse and looked through a skylight.  She could see Kisume still stood by the patio doors.  Kisume waited ten minutes then went in the bedroom holding Cindy.  By the time Brooke had found a bedroom window to peep through the American heroine was free.  Her fears confirmed Brooke flew off at speed.  She regretted leaving Shannon but doubted she could take both Cindy and Kisume, besides Shannon was already partly brainwashed anyway.

***

“See”, Kisume said smiling and kissing the blonde American passionately, “no problem.  Shannon is ours and Brooke will be gone for the night on a wild goose chance.”

“But what about the others?” Cindy asked, smuggling up to Kisume.

“Knowing Kanika, she will contact us when they capture our master or if they find a way to deprogram you.”

“You mean us.”

“They had better not find that out…sister.”

The young women giggled.

“And ‘room service’?” Cindy enquired nodding towards a tall wardrobe.

“Hmmm.  Doing her and Shannon will take too long but we can’t leave either of them free.  We could do with a couple of copies of the master’s discs.”
She sat on the bed and dialled room service.

“Hello, room service?  Hi, I’m staying in the penthouse… no… no Ms al-Sami delivered the goods and left some time ago.  Sorry.  Yes, I was wondering if there was a cyber café nearby.  I have some holiday snaps I was able to get burned onto CD at a store in the city and now I want another copy.  No I can’t remember the name of the store…Hold on I need to write this down.”

She gestured to Cindy for a pen and paper.  Cindy scrabbled around and found some in the main room.  Kisume wrote down some instructions and replaced the receiver.

“There is a computer shop only ten minutes away.  I can be there and back in half an hour.”

“Shouldn’t I go just in case Kanika calls?”

“Actually, as she hasn’t already, I think the master must have thrown a big spanner in Kanika’s plans; more than controlling Shannon.  I wonder if he has them all?  No, stay here, I know how to burn CDs quickly.  I think we should have time.  I just wish I didn’t have to go out dressed like this.  I’ll feel so ashamed.”

“Cheer up, little sister, you don’t have to.  I did some shopping earlier.”

“Fetish-ware is fine for the harem, Cindy, not the high street,” Kisume said glancing at the content of one of the bags Ms al-Sami had brought.

In reply Cindy opened one of the other bags and produced a long, pink gown, “This is called an Abaya.  It comes with a white under-scarf, gloves and headscarf or Hijab and this, which will cover your face, and is called a niqab.”

Cindy held the small, pink piece of cloth up to her face so that only her beautiful sparkling eyes could be seen.  Kisume hugged her.

“Oh Cindy, you are so thoughtful,” she exclaimed.

Quickly she stripped out of her tourist clothes and tossed them aside with contempt.  She them rummaged through the ‘fetish’ bags to find suitable underclothes.  Eventually she was dressed in white, satin panties and sheer stockings, a white, latex corset with blue trim and which left her breasts exposed.  Cindy helped her into a pair of heeled, white calf-boots.  Then the blonde lowered the Abaya over Kisume’s head and let its bottom fall to the floor.  Kisume poked her hands out of the loose sleeves and pulled on the gloves.  As the Asian girl was unsure about the headwear she let Cindy do that too; to be honest she was turned on by having another woman dress her.

Finally Kisume looked at herself in a mirror.  No-one would recognise her, only her wide dark eyes looked out.

“Perfect,” she purred.  Walking to the CD player the click of her heels was the only thing that suggested something was amiss.  She gathered up the CDs, put them in a deep side pocket, winked at Cindy and left.

“I think I’ll prepare ‘room service’ for her seduction,” chirped Cindy to herself, opening a bedroom wardrobe to reveal the trussed up, tearful staff member.  Cindy picked her up and carried her through to another bedroom.  The bound woman didn’t struggle – she had found out how strong these women could be.

***

When Kisume returned just over the half hour later, she found that Cindy had not been idle.  The sofa that Shannon lay on had been pulled over to the sound system and Cindy had been at the bags of clothes too.  Now she was dressed in white and gold lingerie.  Sheer, white stockings clad her shapely legs.  She wore high heel sandals with straps that wound up her slender calves.  Her ruby red smile and alluring eyes were, in part due to make-up and she had painted her nails ruby red too.

Kisume let down one side of her niqab and the two heroines kissed and embraced.

“I made two copies,” said Kisume, trying to keep her mind on the plan.

“Shannon’s all ready and Abla is in that bedroom over there with my portable player.  We’ll have to switch CDs manually between bouts.”

“Bouts?” queried Kisume.

Cindy’s smile spread even wider and her face took on a hungry look, “Of sex, silly.  What else are two hot lesbian slaves going to do for a couple of hours?  I can barely contain myself.”

Kisume pulled her headscarves off and shook out her hair.

“Let’s get started!” the Asian girl said in a determined voice.  She handed a set of discs to Cindy.

“You do…Abla did you say?”

“I read her name tag,” squealed Cindy as if she had discovered the cure for cancer.

“And I’ll do Shannon.”

Kisume walked over to Shannon, who had been watching them all the time.  The Irish girl started to wriggle in alarm as Kisume brought out the disks and started to load them into the player.

“Please, Shannon, don’t resist.  Soon you will be another of the sheik’s devoted slave girls.”

To Kisume’s surprise the redhead stopped struggling and relaxed.  The fear on the Irish girls face changed to bashfulness, her face becoming quit red, as she watched each disc enter the machine.

“Do you want this?” Kisume asked on an impulse.

Shannon nodded sheepishly.  Kisume put the headphones on her and pressed play.  Shannon lay back, relaxed, before the music even started.  Kisume hurried to the bedroom and a long overdue date with Cindy.

***

Kanika and Ultra Woman landed behind the sand dune near Scheherezade.  The young Arabian woman looked up from tendering her sister and waved then a greeting.  Night falls quickly in the desert and it was already getting dark in the depths between the dunes.  Kanika and Ultra Woman settled down; there was the obligatory wait whilst the deafness left them then Kanika spoke.

“I’ve made two complete circuits of the palace and haven’t seen a single slave.  What about you, Ultra Woman?”

“No.  It was a great idea of yours, Scorpion, to block off all the entrances to one of the high towers and put the ones we knocked out in there tied up,” Ultra Woman replied, turning to her Arabian companion.

Scheherezade smiled, “It was just an old fairy story I remembered my grandmother telling me.  Not really out of the A3V manual.”

“You should make them put it in,” Kanika said with a laugh.  A lot of the tension that had been building up around her had now gone.  They were acting like a team and achieving some success: the sheik’s slave-girls seemed to be corralled; his mind control music studio out of bounds and the mysterious bronze doors sealed.  It had taken time but they had results.

“The sheik’s disappeared though.  I suspect he’s fled across the desert; probably with some of his harem,” Kanika added gloomily.

“That couldn’t be helped, Tigress, we underestimated him,” Scheherezade said.

“You mean I underestimated him,” Kanika replied; tension creeping back into her voice.

“We all agreed the plan, Tigress,” Ultra Woman said calmly, placing a hand on Kanika’s forearm.  “We underestimated him!  The sheik is gone, that may be for the best.  Now we can investigate those bronze doors unhindered.  We still have Diamond and Rising Sun as back up in Riyadh if he heads that way.”

Kanika smiled a thank you to the tall, blonde Amazon.

“We’ll move Dunyazad to the tower first, then we’ll hit those doors!” Kanika said decisively.  “We’re no going to leave tonight until we’ve uncovered all the sheik’s secrets.”