Arabian Addventure (Part 6)

Finally the three remaining heroines stood before the great bronze doors.  They studied the welding that Desert Scorpion had carried out several hours ago.  It was patchy and only around one side of the bar and looked as if the warping of the bar and door had more to do with the door being jammed shut.  Ultra Woman tested her strength against the bar, pushing up for all she was worth.  Tigress went to help but a look from the Amazon stopped her.  The blonde powerhouse doubled her efforts and the bar and door began to groan and buckle.  Desert Scorpion pulled Tigress away as the hinges of the doors deformed and snapped off with deafening cracks.  Ultra Woman twisted with the cumbersome doors and threw them down the hall.  They landed and skidded along the marble floor gouging out great scratch marks and making a horrendous sound.  Unknown to the heroines the soft, seductive music was replaced by a klaxon.

Beyond the door a simple passage led to a narrow spiral staircase that wound down steeply.  Tigress first, then Desert Scorpion and with Ultra Woman bringing up the rear, they descended.  The steps spiralled down and down; Tigress estimated they must have passed the other floors of the palace and be deep underground.  The air became cool.  Eventually the intrepid adventuresses reached the bottom to face another door; one of thick wood and barred.  The remaining Global Protector splintered it in two blows and stepped into an ornately tiled round room with a domed roof.  To her right another sturdy door stood.

The black heroine waited for her companions to catch up then pointed around the room.  The other two looked around but could see nothing.  Tigress pointed to her ears and again around the room.  Then Desert Scorpion and Ultra Woman realised; there were no speakers down here.  Tigress had noticed there were none on the stairs too.  There would be no entrancing music here.  The African heroine indicated that she would pull out her earplugs but Desert Scorpion stopped her and pointed to herself.  She took off her cloak, her scorpion blast, body armour and utility belt.  She was just a normal woman now, highly trained but normal and the weakest of the three.  Nervously she pulled out the plugs.  She heard nothing.  She clapped her hands waiting for the deafness to wear off and hoping all she would hear would be that sound.  It was!  It was safe.  She gave a thumbs up sign to the others and smiled.  Tigress and Ultra Woman took their earplugs out whilst Desert Scorpion re-equipped.

“One more door,” Tigress said grimly.

“The sheik’s secret must be here,” Ultra Woman replied confidently.

“I sense great magic nearby, Tigress,” Desert Scorpion warned.

Tigress turned, “But the sheik’s powers are technological.”

“And I detected no magic before but now I do… powerful magic.”

Tigress closed her eyes and thought…“It changes nothing”; they still had to go on.  She looked at Ultra Woman.

“Do you want to knock or shall I?”

“It is your adventure, Tigress.  You should have the honour.”

Tigress kicked out the lock and let the door swing open.  A well furnished boudoir lay beyond and standing in its centre was a voluptuous, Arab woman dressed like a harem girl with a thin veil across her lower face.

“Who are you!” she demanded imperiously.

The three heroines were taken aback.  They stepped into the room and Tigress answered, “We’re here to free you.”
The woman threw back her head and let out a long, mirthless laugh.

“Have you not heard it said”, the stranger continued, “‘Stone walls do not a prison make’?  Even if I left this room would I be free, mortal?”

“Maybe it would help if you told us who you are, Miss,” Ultra Woman replied.

“I am Zainab, the Jinniyah of the lamp!”  she proclaimed.

“You’re the power behind the sheik!” shrieked Desert Scorpion.
“How have you helped the sheik, Zainab?” demanded Tigress.

“Do you not know the curse of the Jinniyah placed on us by King Solomon himself?  Once we were a mischievous race of spirits who plagued mortal man, until Solomon punished us with this curse: to lie entombed in an item, be it lamp or ring or flask for all eternity; only once in a thousand years might we be freed but only to grant the holder of our prison, those we once tormented, three wishes, as the slave of that object, and then return to our incarceration.”

“Solomon was wise indeed to imprison such evil creatures like you”, spat Desert Scorpion, “for the legends say a Jinniyahs’ wishes are always tinged with treachery!”

“And why not!  After a thousand years imprisonment would you begrudge us a little amusement, cousin?  Yes I see that the blood of the Efreet is in you.”

“What wishes has the sheik made, spirit?” demanded Ultra Woman.

“What is it to me to tell you? I am a Jinniyah.  You have no power over me.”

“I give my word if you tell me I shall use the last wish to set you free,” replied the stately Amazon.

“Hold on!” cried the Tigress.  “We might need that wish to undo the sheik’s work.”

Ultra Woman turned to her and said, “I don’t think we can do that.  If all wishes granted by a Jinniyah are twisted how can we use one safely?”

“You are wise, fair one, and have guessed the only wish a Jinniyah would not corrupt.  You have given your word so I will tell you the sheik’s two wishes.  The first was made many years ago when he was but a vagabond.  He wished that ‘all women will become obedient to my word’ and so the wish was granted.  I built him this palace and within its walls filled it with such music that no woman could resist obeying him once they heard it.”

“But that didn’t make all women obedient to his word!” cried out the Tigress.

“He never asked for that,” replied the Jinniyah smugly.  “His wish was grated, all women will become obedient to his word but not until all women have listened to the music.”

Tigress fumed, “but that’s… that’s…”

“That is a Jinniyah for you,” Desert Scorpion completed.  Then she asked Zainab, “but I have heard the music and am unaffected and I could not detect any magic in it.”

“As for the first part, I tell you you are affected and would obey his word.  Though I suspect he has not asked you to do anything yet.  For the second part, no!  You will detect no magic; for there is none.  Why should I waste my power fuelling a spell when I could easily bring technology from the future that satisfied his need?”

“Then there is a hope that science can free the women,” Ultra Woman interjected.

“If you can hope for over a thousand years.  It is more than the immortal Jinniyah can do.”

“Shit!” cried out the Tigress.  The other three looked at her shocked.

“What was the other wish,” the leader of the Global Protectors asked rudely to cover her outburst.

“Lousy holier-than-thou superheroines and a stuck up immortal,” she thought to herself as she asked her question.

“That he asked soon after.  His words were ‘All mortal women I desire will worship me as their rightful master whilst accepting other women who do the same in an atmosphere of love’.”

“Surely his first wish could achieve that,” the Tigress said in a surprised tone.

“Yes, but he was frustrated with his first wish and… Solomon he isn’t.”
 
 

Zainab became even more smug, “He thought he had me, the fool!  Didn’t he blunder into the same trap as before?  Surely I had to punish him more severely.  I gave him disks of music to raise his hopes only to dash them.  Yes, all mortal women who heard the disks would worship him as master but not as lover once they had ‘accepted’ another such woman ‘in an atmosphere of love’.  They would play amongst themselves.  None would seek him out unless commanded.”

“Though a number have visited me,” she added with a wicked smile.

Tigress whistled, “Jeez, does he know he’s got a harem of obedient lesbians?”

“He suspects something is not right, but as they obey him and have sex with him when asked he is confused.”

“And why have them convert to Islam.  Considering the sex drive the CDs give them isn’t that a little incongruous?”

“Ah! But if you want someone to perform acts beyond their natural limits you need to hook them with something, whether it is politics or addiction or religion but religion is the best.  With politics you have to deliver something, with an addition you have to supply something; only with religion do you get your slaves for free.  It is also harder to de-program them.  They do become very devoted and you can change their beliefs on a whim.  I chose Islam as that is the sheik’s culture and the culture of his intended victims.  I could have chosen any religion or made one up but I thought what fun it would be to use a mockery of their own faith to trap his victims.  Using Islam gave the sheik powerful hooks to reel his victims in with.”

Desert Scorpion leant close to Tigress and whispered, “And you wanted to use one of her wishes.”

“Don’t remind me!”

“Now I have told you the sheik’s two wishes, keep your word and free me.”

“As you see I do not have the lamp, Zainab, but I will now get it.  Tigress, Desert Scorpion, would you come with me.”

“Do not betray me, fair one!” shouted Zainab after them as they left the room.

Ultra Woman turned and replied furiously, “You have the word of an Amazon, wretch!  We are not a race of tricksters like the Jinniyah.  Do not anger me or you will know we are also a race of warriors!”

As the trio left the room, none of them saw the look on Zainab’s face as she pondered Ultra Woman’s words.

“An Amazon…and a fine specimen at that.  If they are foolish with their wish I shall be free and have her into the bargain.”

***

Out in the round room Ultra Woman asked the Tigress to hold the broken door closed then whispered, “She doesn’t know that the sheik hides the lamp down here.  It must be in this room somewhere.”

“How do you figure that?” asked Tigress.

“If the sheik had the lamp he would use it to defeat us.  He was desperate to get into here.  If it were above he has had plenty of time to get it and use it.”

“Couldn’t it be in there,” Tigress indicated Zainab’s room with her head.

“Would you leave anything of value with that woman?  No it is here.  Will you hold the door whilst Desert Scorpion and I search?”

Tigress agreed and the other two started to carefully investigate every inch of the wall and floor.  It didn’t take the two heroines long to break open a secret compartment containing a lamp.  Reverently Ultra Woman took the mystic object in both hands.

“Scorpion, I need you to trust me,” she said quietly.  “We need three wishes to free Zainab and the sheik’s slaves…and Zainab has only one wish left.”

“Couldn’t you just wish for more wishes?” asked Desert Scorpion, not liking were Ultra Woman was going.
“I intend to - the only way I know how, I need you to become a new slave of the lamp.”

“Why me!” squealed the Arabian maiden.

“You are of this culture and are the most magical amongst us.  I do not know what effect becoming an Arabian spirit will have on either myself or Tigress, but you are partly one already.  Hopefully you will handle the change better.”

“And what”, hissed the Desert Scorpion, “makes you think I won’t have to wait a thousand years to get my three wishes?”

“Nothing.  I think we shall have to put our trust in the Wisdom of Solomon.”

The Syrian agent considered the options briefly then said, “I’ll do it.  To free Dunyazad and myself I have no choice but to do it.”

The two women returned to the Tigress.  Ultra Woman’s plan was gone over again and the three heroines entered the room.

“I have the lamp, Zainab,” proclaimed Ultra Woman.  “Now head my wish.  I wish that the nature of the mortal woman Scheherezade and Zainab the slave of the lamp be switched.”

“Mistress of the lamp, know that I am the Jinniyah of the lamp who will grant three wishes to the lamp’s bearer.  I grant my third wish,” Zainab spoke to Ultra Woman then turned to the Desert Scorpion and said, “You would take up my burden, Oh daughter of the Efreet?  Then have it for all the joy it will bring you I shall become a mortal!”

Zainab shouted the last part joyfully for they had given her room to manoeuvre; yes she would become mortal but not just any mortal.  Zainab’s body transformed, her raven tresses became a fiery red, she grew several inches taller, her dusky skin became lighter and her eyes becoming as green as envy.  The evil Jinniyah knew of the legends of the Amazons and had gambled that any female brought up in an all female society would have some measure of lesbian tendencies; however much repressed.  Now she used the last wish to transform her body into one the haughty Amazon could not but find most desirable – for it would be that of Ultra Woman’s perfect female sexual partner!

Tigress and Ultra Woman were taken aback by the sudden transformation.

“I am free at last!” Zainab shouted with a new voice, her eyes meeting the grey eyes of Ultra Woman.

“But now mortal, Zainab,” Tigress shouted grabbing and holding her tight.

“Let me go!  What right have you to attack me?” screamed Zainab, unable to break the heroines grip.

During the short struggle Ultra Woman and Scheherezade did nothing.  Ultra Woman just starred at the transformed Zainab disturbed.  The Amazon couldn’t understand why she felt the way she did; it was just as when she had met Ultra Man for the first time…only much more so.  She shook her blonde haired head and said, “Let her go, Tigress.  She is right.  We have no grounds to arrest her.  As a Jinniyah she was bound by the curse to obey the sheik and she did try to thwart his plans.”

Tigress looked at Ultra Woman amazed, “For her own reasons!  King Solomon imprisoned her for a reason… if nothing else she’s on the run.”

“And I helped her escape.  Will you arrest me too?  No court will convict her of just being a Jinniyah, especially as she isn’t one anymore.  We have more pressing matters!”

Tigress felt foolish.  When Ultra Woman put it like that she felt in the wrong, but mortal or Jinniyah the Tigress could sense the evil in the woman.  Reluctantly the leader of the Global Protectors let Zainab go.  The redhead made a show of straightening herself, and then stepped closer to Ultra Woman.

“Thank you,” she whispered softly through moist, red lips.

Ultra Woman felt another wave of confusion and didn’t dare reply.  She swallowed a lump that had suddenly formed in her throat.  Zainab noticed and felt a warm glow suffuse her.  Feeling on surer ground she turned on the other heroine.

“Touch me again and you will feel my wrath, Negress!” she spat with venom.

“Oooh, I’m so scared.  What are you going to do?  Call the police?  You’re mortal now, witch, with no identity or home.”

“Don’t gloat so soon, bitch.  I may be mortal but your friend is now Jinniyah.  Dare you trust her? Dare she trust you?  A wish is a powerful temptation”, she flashed a quick glance at Ultra Woman, “with it you can have your hearts desire…”

Up till now Scheherezade had ignored the other three. She had been lost in the sudden surge of power that had fired through her body.  Suddenly she had the power to do…anything.  Her senses were superhuman and she could see people differently, not just their surface but their very being.  She looked to her sister tied up in the tower and then across the desert to the sheik, fleeing in an old car with three slaves.  She glanced at the three before her, they were small and insignificant; only the lamp held her attention… the lamp she was now bound to with mystic chains she could see and feel.  However, when Zainab uttered her final jibe, a look of panic crossed Scheherezade’s face.  Would her companions betray her?  A wish was a powerful temptation.  Would her companions consign her to eternal damnation for their own base desires?  Scheherezade could see a lust and desire welling up in Ultra Woman for Zainab which would consume her.  She could see the evil in Zainab and piece together her plan to enslave the Amazon through sex.  Lastly she looked at Kanika and saw her hatred towards the two perfect examples of white womanhood; little realising she looked through the eyes of a Jinniyah which exaggerate the evil whilst hiding the good so that not everything seen was true.  Fear clutched her heart.

“I will be betrayed!” she thought then anger filled it, “I’ll make them pay as Zainab would, by twisting their wishes to hurt them.”

Zainab continued, speaking more to Ultra Woman than the Tigress, “…but know that you cannot undo a wish granted by a Jinniyah.  It has been tried and no good came from the rolling back of time.”

“Ultra Woman, we’d better be safe than sorry, choose your words carefully,” cautioned Tigress.

Ultra Woman closed her eyes blotting out the vision Zainab had become and summoned every ounce of her wisdom; the fate of so many women rested on it and what remained of Scheherezade’s old self.

“Scheherezade, I have the lamp listen to my first wish.  I wish that all of the women controlled by either the palace music or by the sheikh’s disks have the mental strength to overcome any abuse they suffered whilst enslaved.”

Scheherezade was taken aback by the request.  She had convinced herself it would involve the Amazon and Zainab.  She knew she could twist the wish to cause the brainwashed women pain but the selfless plea touched a part of her that had not been wholly tainted yet.

“Mistress of the lamp, know that I am the Jinniyah of the lamp who will grant three wishes to the lamp’s bearer.  I grant my first wish,” Scheherezade found herself saying.

She cursed to herself, somehow she had not grated the wish but the desire behind it and what Ultra Woman actually wanted.  It was as if some vestige of the mortal Scheherezade had controlled her.  Concentrating her will she swore it would not happen again.

Zainab bit her tongue.  “What kind of a wish was that!” she was about to say.

“I wish that all females enslaved as a result of the sheik’s wishes be, forevermore, free from his control.”

The Jinniyah, Scheherezade, chuckled to herself; the Amazon had left a loophole.  She looked east to Riyadh, where Cindy, Kisume and now Shannon were having a threesome in a penthouse bend whilst a woman Scheherezade did not recognise sat listening to the last of the sheik’s CDs.  Quickly she replied, “Mistress of the lamp, know that I am the Jinniyah of the lamp who will grant three wishes to the lamp’s bearer.  I grant my second wish.”

Scheherezade stole a look to the car the sheik was fleeing in.  Suddenly it skidded to a halt and the sheik spilled out followed by his former slaves, now howling for his blood.  They punched him, kicked him and threw rocks at him.  Dazed and blooded their former master ran out across the desert and into the night.  The women returned to the car and went on their way away from the palace.

“Now switch them back,” urged Tigress.

“No!  Please, Amazon.  Have mercy on me.  Let me remain as I am.  As a Jinniyah I did much wrong.  Have I not been punished enough?  Would I not be more desirable left as a woman?”
Ultra Woman looked at the two women.  Tigress seemed ugly and vindictive, whereas Zainab’s imploring eyes, quivering lips and heaving bosom made Ultra Woman want to wrap her arms around her…protectively of course.  Ultra Woman wrestled with her conscience her mind clouded by her subconscious feelings for Zainab.  It was only a few seconds but it seemed an age before she spoke and she made the wrong decision; for Solomon hadn’t imprisoned Zainab for being a Jinniyah but for being evil beyond human understanding and the granting of wishes was not an opportunity for her to commit more evil but one to show she had repented, by grating all three wishes as wanted and not twisted, and could go free; something she and Scheherezade had failed to do.

“No, Tigress, I think that would be wrong.  Maybe Solomon had a right to have all Jinniyah imprisoned, but Zainab is human now.  If I were to imprison her she would become a Jinniyah again and would be a threat in a thousand years time.”

Tigress felt uneasy at this answer but couldn’t argue with Ultra Woman’s logic that an evil woman was far less dangerous in the long run than an evil Jinniyah.

Ultra Woman licked her parched lips.  Why did she feel so hot?

“Wish me luck?”  she asked no one in particular.

“Good luck,” replied Zainab with a smile.  Tigress said nothing.

“I wish that Scheherezade, who is the Jinniyah of the lamp, become what she was before being the slave of the lamp.”

The Jinniyah smiled, one last chance to cause trouble had been given her, “Mistress of the lamp, know that I am the Jinniyah of the lamp who will grant three wishes to the lamp’s bearer.  I grant my final wish.”

Suddenly Scheherezade’s expression changed to one of confusion, “What happened?  Did it work?”

Then she caught sight of Zainab and exclaimed, “Who’s that!”

Tigress rushed forward and hugged the bemused Arab girl.

“You did it!  We got the three wishes and you’re back safe…You are back safe aren’t you?  I’m not hugging an evil Jinnyah am I?”

“Evil… Jinniyah?  No I’m me.  Human me but I don’t remember anything.”

“That would be because Ultra Woman wished you back the way you were so no memories,” explained Zainab.

“This is Zainab,” Ultra Woman said making the introduction.

Zainab was acutely aware that the Amazon had used the introduction to stand closer to her.

“It worked perfectly,” continued Tigress, as if the introduction hadn’t taken place.  “First we made sure the women could cope with the after-effects of their ordeal and then we set then forevermore free!  The sheik will never get his grubby hands on them ever again.”

“My sister is free!” proclaimed the Arabic heroine.

“Along with a lot of other women”, added Ultra Woman, “and we are not in a position to cope with a lot of bemused or angry women.  Some of whom may be pregnant.”

Tigress released Scheherezade and turned to Ultra Woman.

“I don’t think so.  He’s had a harem for some time and plenty of women, yet there are no children here.  Either he’s incapable or he’s had them on the pill.”

“I will contact my people to come and handle the clean up and to alert them to capture the sheik,” Scheherezade said.  “Would you free the women in the meantime?”

“Sure,” replied Ultra Woman.

“Hold on”, Tigress cried, “the music might still be playing.  It’s still dangerous.  Wait here whilst I dismantle the machine.”

Ultra Woman and the Desert Scorpion agreed and The Tigress left.

“Why don’t we make ourselves comfortable?” Zainab suggested and wandered over to a chaise longue.  “Ultra woman, there is a seat here if you like.”

***
 
Heading up the stairs the Tigress popped in hr ear-plugs and let the world turn silent.  As she made her way to the upper room with all the high-tech equipment in she had seen on the way in, she didn’t notice that the music had been replaced by a klaxon.

Tigress decided to enter the room by the window instead of dismantling the barrier she had erected in front of the only doorway, so she walked out of the palace and into the cold night air.  In the darkness she took a little time to find the right window but eventually stood in front of the machine; it was still on.  A quick look confirmed what she had suspected – there was no power cable – which meant the machine had its own power supply.  The Tigress wanted to smash it, push every stick of furniture in the palace through its heartless frame but the internal power supply stopped her.  The thought of it being nuclear scared her a little.

Tentatively she touched it.  She had expected to feel a vibration but there was nothing; only the changing lights on it showed it was still active.  Positioning herself she gripped the machine in both hands and heaved.  It rose easily off the floor.  A wild plan formed in the African heroine’s mind.

“What the heck!” she said to no one, “It works in the comic books.”

Getting a more comfortable grip she carried the machine into the other room and leaped out the window.  She flew, clumsily at first up, up and away; straight up into the starry Arabian night.  As she climbed faster and faster the temperature dropped and she even began to shiver.  Still she climbed.  Looking back she found that the huge palace had receded into darkness.  On the curving horizon the city lights of Riyadh aped the dawn.  Tigress didn’t know it but her breath was condensing in the atmosphere.  Tigress tried to calculate how far she must have climbed based on her guessed speed and approximate time but she felt too light headed to do the maths.

“I guess that’s a good sign,” she thought and almost started giggling.

Her breathing was ragged and her limbs ached with the strain and lack of oxygen.  Numb with the cold her fingers almost lost their grip on the machine.  Tigress decided to stop.  One last look below sent a shudder of vertigo through her body.  She could make out many spots of orange/yellow light linked by threads of light that indicated many cities and highways.  Firmly she suppressed the desire to fall and dragged her eyes back to the stars.

Conscious of having no solid support she hefted the machine in her numb hands so that she held it above her head, then, with an arch of her back, she snapped forward and launched it towards space with all of her remaining strength.  She fell back a couple of hundred feet after the throw before she could get herself under control.  It took her a minute to spot the receding speck that was the machine.  It continued to climb.  Tigress watched it until even her superior vision lost it in the blackness.  As far as she could tell it hadn’t started to dip.

“Well it’s in space or will burn up on re-entry now.  Better get back to the other,” she decided and went into a steep power dive.  It wasn’t long before she broke the sound barrier as she screamed herself hoarse all the way down.

When the Tigress returned to the Jinniyah’s room she found Desert Scorpion asleep in Zainab’s bed whilst the ex-jinniyah and Ultra Woman made eyes at each other on a couch.  Zainab was playing with Ultra Woman’s blonde hair with her right hand whilst her left hand softly caressed the heroine’s inner thigh.  Ultra Woman was either too engrossed in her conversation with Zainab to notice or didn’t mind the attention.

“Well that’s sorted,” Tigress proclaimed as she walked through the doorway; noticing the blush spring to Ultra Woman’s face as she and Zainab sprang apart.  “So the conversation wasn’t that engrossing,” Tigress noted to herself.

Desert Scorpion didn’t move.

“How long has she been out?” Tigress asked.

“I…we…I’m not sure.  Not long,” replied Ultra Woman losing her composure.
Ultra Woman stood up and walked over to Desert Scorpion.  Tigress stood by the doorway and revelled in the Amazon’s embarrassment.  The Blonde turned to the Tigress and said, “She’s flat out.  It seems a shame to wake her.”

“I need to contact Diamond and Rising Sun, to free Shamrock and Star Maiden immediately”, said Tigress, “and she wanted to call in A3V.  Plus, a tower-full of women need to be set free.  Wake her up!”

“Desert Scorpion.  Oh Desert Scorpion wake up now,” called Ultra Woman I a singsong voice.  Gently she shook the sleeping Arab agent.

Scheherezade shot up and rolled out of bed shouting, “What’s happening?”

“Nothing, Scorpion.  It’s time to go,” Tigress informed her.

The group split up, Tigress and Scheherezade set off to find a radio room, whilst Ultra Woman and Zainab went to free the prisoners.

***

“Are all Amazons as pretty as you, Ultra Woman?” Zainab asked coyly as they walked along a corridor.

“What!” replied the startled heroine.

Zainab grabbed her companion’s hands and stood in front of her, forcing the Amazon to stop.  Their eyes were level and only inches apart.  Zainab brought their hands up together and kissed them lightly.  Looking up through her long lashes she asked, “Surely you know how I feel about you.  You freed me.  You made me who I am.”

Ultra Woman blushed and looked away, unable to keep eye contact.

“I… I don’t know what you mean,” she stammered.

Zainab reconsidered her approach and decided guilt and duty were her best options.

“Ultra Woman, I was a Jinniyah for millennia before I was imprisoned by King Solomon.  You would have called me evil, though my actions were just how I was brought up and in my nature.  I will not argue that point with you, beloved.  Now I am human, a human you made, and maybe I am still evil.  I have been human only a little while and do not know how my thoughts will be judged but this I do know I love you, Ultra Woman,” she lied.  “Since the moment I took my first mortal breath you stole it from me.  I desire you and only you.  Surely as an Amazon you could return my love.”

Zainab bent her knees a little so that she ended up looking up into the Amazon’s face.  Ultra Woman felt awkward.  Her emotions were in turmoil as Zainab had hoped.  Finally she mumbled.

“I… I’m seeing someone, Zainab.”

“Do you love her?  Does she love you?” the redhead pressed.

“He’s a man.  I think we love each other.”

“Then, having made me by accident, you’ll cast me aside and live with your husband,” she paused to blink crocodile tears from her eyes.  “I love you too much to spoil your happiness.  I will go away quietly.”
Zainab dropped her head and took a calculated risk by letting go of Ultra Woman’s hands.  Slowly she turned her back on the blonde.  Ultra Woman looked at the slumped shoulders of the stunning redhead.  Thoughts raced through her mind, “What did I do when I wished her mortal?  My wish certainly changed her body could it have affected her emotions?  She has been rude and harsh to Kanika, yet kind and cooperative with me…have I done something subconsciously?  If I have, surely I have a duty to her?”

“Wait, Zainab, please.  I…we do not live together.  He’s not my husband.  He is a hero like me.  We are just dating, I guess,” Ultra Woman said falteringly; reaching out a hand to touch and caress the other woman’s shoulders.

“I live alone.  It is a small house, but it could hold two.  You have been imprisoned for thousands of years; I could not let you enter the modern world unguided.  Will you stay with me until you are more settled in?”

“I will not be another man’s concubine!”  Zainab stated icily.  “Nor will I share my love for you.”

The she turned suddenly and buried her head in Ultra Woman’s shoulder.  Zainab sobbed a little but smiled inwardly as Ultra Woman’s arms embraced her.  Just a little more for now she thought.

“I am not the woman I was…I am your woman.  All I ask is that you give me an equal chance to win your heart.  Is that too much?”

She pulled away from Ultra Woman so she could look the Amazon in the eye.  Zainab saw indecision but no hostility.

“No,” decided Ultra Woman.  “It’s not too much to ask.  I give you my word.”

Zainab made a wry smile, “And I know not to challenge the word of Ultra Woman!”

Ultra Woman smiled back, “My name is Tania, Zainab.  I can’t have you calling me Ultra Woman in my own home or when I’m out of uniform.”

They kissed gently.  When they broke apart, Zainab knew she had achieved all she could for now – a barrier between them had cracked.  She still had to remove this male rival and bring the Blonde under her total control but those were tasks for another day.

“We had better dash to the tower now, Tania, otherwise you’re leader will know we’ve dallied.”

“My leader?”

“The black woman.  She hates me.”

“Tigress, is not my leader.  I am just working with her today.  But you are right; we should fly to the tower.  Let me carry you.”

Zainab didn’t say no.

Cindy returned to the bedroom after checking up on Abla.  She and Abla had ‘fooled around’ a little, but Cindy had eventually insisted Abla hear the final CD and left the Arabian woman listening to it.  The Blonde American looked at the rumpled king-size bed where Kisume and Shannon were eagerly engaged in the ‘69’ position.  Muffled moans and the creaking of the bed as one of the girls stiffened as orgasm approached were the only sounds Cindy could hear.

For a while Cindy just stood and watched her two young companions make love, once again marvelling at her master’s actions that had brought the three females so close together; not even the vaunted Doctor Boyd had realised how sensible brainwashing them into being lesbians was.

“And that’s why the master is the master,” she mused.

A louder moan from Shannon brought Cindy from her reverie.  Any second now Cindy knew the redhead would cum under Kisume’s expert ministration.  Kisume was quiet now, concentrating on bringing her friend to a tremendous climax.  Cindy watched her in awe; she and Kisume had started their journey into girl/girl sex with each other only a few hours ago and, although they were both as enthusiastic, it was Kisume who had made all the breakthroughs in figuring out how one woman could stimulate another.  Old Cindy would never have admitted to being second best at anything related to sex but new Cindy took her hat off to Kisume dubbing her ‘the queen of oral sex’ which Kisume had laughed off but burned with pride to hear from Cindy.

Cindy started rubbing herself between the legs in sympathy to Shannon’s shrieks of passion, eager to step in once the insatiable Japanese girl had finished off her Irish lover.  Suddenly, Cindy felt light-headed and swayed, hearing Shannon’s climax as if from a great distance.  As she regained focus her eyes widened in shock at the sight of her two companions screwing on the bed.  Her astonishment grew as she realised she had two fingers in her cunt and she had been masturbating in time to their moans.  Horrified she pulled her fingers out and looked for something to cover her naked body.  Ironically the only thing to hand was her khimar, which she wrapped around her torso like a bath towel.  Meanwhile, Kisume had spring off the exhausted Shannon and rolled across the bed, spitting out Shannon’s sexual juices as best she could.  Jumping off the bed she darted to the en suite bathroom and slammed the door.

“Hay!  What gives her the right to have first dibs in the bathroom?” Cindy shouted.

Shannon got out of bed slowly, pulling a silk sheet around her.

“I think she has the greater need, Cindy,” the Irish girl replied.

“How can you say that?  We’re all covered in… I mean in need of a wash.”

Shannon leant forward and lowered her voice conspiratorially, “Maybe you’ve forgotten what Kisume and I were up to…”

“I’m trying to!”

“but she didn’t… I mean only I…y’know…and she didn’t, so she’s still…”

“WHAT!”

“…needs relief,” answered Shannon in a whisper and gestured with a couple of fingers.

“Oh my God!” mouthed Cindy and looked towards the bathroom door wide-eyed.  “She’s in there now doing…I hope she cleans up after herself!”

Shannon sat back down on the bed and Cindy joined her.  For a while they didn’t speak and just listened to the sound of running water from the other room.

“I’m kind of glad it happened this way,” Shannon started to say.

“Are you serious!” Cindy replied, feeling as though her jaw had hit the floor.

“What I meant was with you and Kisume…”
Cindy jumped from the bed and backed away.

“Speak for yourself, Lady.  I was brainwashed into this, I’m glad I’m free and I NEVER want to go there again!”

“If you’d just let me finish, I was going to say with you and Kisume who are, at least Kisume is, my friends and attractive friends at that and not some ugly, dyke super-villainess who’d be crowing about it round the prison exercise yard for the rest of her life!” Shannon replied in a raised voice.

There was a pause then Cindy apologised, “I’m sorry, I thought you were coming on to me.  I though maybe you’d flipped.  I don’t know what I was thinking…it’s all so horrible.”

“I know, Cindy, but I guess no one will know about it.”

Cindy sat back down next to Shannon.

“Do you think Kisume will be okay?” asked Cindy eventually.

“I suppose so.  Why ever not?”

“Well, she did seem to take to ‘it’ like a natural.”

“You mean YOU found she was great at it,” Shannon teased.

“No!  That’s not what I meant.  But you were…”

“Are you saying I was rubbish in bed!” Shannon interrupted with a mischievous twinkle in her eyes.

“No… no…just she figured out all the ‘moves’ so quickly.  That’s all.”

“So?  She’s smart and she uses her brains when she turns her mind to things.  It just so happened today it was…sex.  She’d do the same if she were fixing a hairdryer.”

Cindy didn’t feel convinced.  Mentally she ticked off the Global Protectors she knew were straight; herself (naturally), Kanika and Jillian (who mooned over Doctor Boyd dreadfully), Kristin (who was so totally asexual as far as Cindy could figure) and that was it.  Shannon, Brooke and Erin were probably okay, Kisume was now a ‘probably not’ and Carmen was just too broad minded to take chances with.

“Your right,” was all she said in a quite voice.

“You didn’t pack a spare toothbrush do you?” she added.

“Uggh… I was trying not to think about ‘that’!  No I don’t have one.  I was going to just rinse.  Maybe the bathroom has mouthwash.”

“There was only a small bottle and I’ve used it all,” came a familiar voice from the bathroom doorway.  “You could ring room service.”

Cindy shot up, “Room service!  Abla!” she shrieked and all three women dashed to the main room of the penthouse.

Bursting in they found the Arabian woman, naked, searching through her torn clothing (she and Cindy had been rather too eager whilst ‘fooling around’).

“Abla,” Cindy panted, “are you okay?  You’re free of the sheik’s control like us aren’t you?”

“What?  I don’t understand,” the dusky maiden said with a puzzled look on her face.

“Neither do we, but it looks as though the sheik’s control over women has gone,” explained Kisume.  “I suppose as you had only just finished listening to the disks you wouldn’t notice anything.”

Abla simply held up her torn blouse and skirt and made a face to indicate ‘oh yeah?’

“Cindy, you didn’t!” gasped Shannon in astonishment.

“I wasn’t myself and neither was she!  I don’t recall any complaints,” Cindy replied defensively.

“And I will make none, as long as this is not mentioned again.  I will have a lot of explaining to do to keep my job and I will expect you three to help.  First I need a shower and new clothes.  I will call my sister from the bedroom if that is all right with you and then take a shower.”

Kisume answered before Shannon exploded at the woman’s highhanded tone, “Yes, of course you can.  We won’t disturb you.”

Abla nodded curtly and carried her clothes into the bedroom and closed the door.

Shannon turned on Kisume, “Why did you have to suck up to that snooty bitch?”

“Do you know what the penalty for lesbianism is in the Arab world?  We dragged her into this, got her brainwashed and had sex with her.  Do you fancy our chances in an Islamic court?” Kisume retorted.

Shannon looked away chastised.

“If that’s all settled then, you won’t mind if I take the shower in the other en-suite bathroom,” Cindy said over her shoulder as she disappeared through the other bedroom door.

“No!” Shannon said through gritted teeth.  “You are the dirtiest.”

The telephone rang causing both girls to jump.

“Should we answer it?  It might be the hotel looking for Abla,” whispered Kisume.

“Surely they’d come to the door but there’s only one way to find out,” replied Shannon and picked up the receiver.

“Hello?”

Shannon relaxed as she listened to the ‘phone.  Kisume bobbed with curiosity around the Irish girl, wishing now she had answered it.  Finally Shannon put the ‘phone down and said, “That was Kanika.  The sheik’s on the run and all the women are freed from his control.  The CD’s are some future technology brought here by a genie, don’t ask, who has now become human, don’t ask.  She, Scheherezade and Ultra Woman are finishing up there; freeing the women, finding out who they are etcetera, etcetera.  No sign of Doctor Boyd.”

“Oh! Oh! I sent Brooke on a wild goose chase across Saudi Arabia after him.  She will be looking for a non-existent ship all night and I didn’t replace her ear plugs so her communicator won’t receive.”

Shannon grinned, “Oh she’ll just love that.  I don’t want to be in your shoes when she finds out.”

***

Brooke had hoped her third trip between the hotel and palace would be quicker, as she now knew the way fairly well, but with the sudden onset of night and the lack of lighting once Riyadh was far behind forced her to slow to a virtual crawl.  So it was a tired and frustrated Diamond who arrived at the main entrance to the palace complex late into the evening, to find Desert Scorpion waiting in the foyer.  Diamond approach cautiously, ready to fly at the first sign of trouble or sound of music.

“Where is everybody?” she cried out.

Desert Scorpion was startled to see the South African appear out of the gloom.

“Kanika, Ultra Woman and Zainab are with the freed women.  I am waiting for A3V troops to arrive to help debrief and relocate the women.  Why are you here?  Shouldn’t you be in Riyadh?”

“Change of plan. Star Maiden got free somehow and… whose Zainab?”

Scheherezade answered with a smile, “The Jinniyah who granted the sheik wishes to control women.”

Seeing Diamond’s blank face she explained, “The sheik found a magic lamp and freed its Jinniyah.  Who grated him three wishes; though he only used two.”
“Hold on there.  Genies… lamps… seriously.  I can’t believe it.”

“Believe it, my friend.  Ultra Woman used the Jinniyah’s last wish to free her and make me one of them, a Jinniyah I mean, with three new wishes.  These she used to free all the women and turn me back into a human.  Simple!”

She laughed and Diamond’s expression.

“I see you have doubts.  Kanika spoke to Shannon a little while ago and everything is fine back there.  Go to your friends.  They are in the east tower and hear the story from then.  Truth-be-told I remember none of it.”

Diamond shook her head in wonder, said goodbye to the Desert Scorpion and disappeared into the palace.

Scheherezade dearly wanted to go with her and see her sister, Dunyazad, but she thought it best to hold that meeting in private and not amongst a throng of bemused strangers.  One question she wanted answering was why Dunyazad had volunteered for the assignment to spy on the sheik when she was not out of training.  Yes she was happy Dunyazad was free and relatively unscathed (Ultra Woman’s first wish would help heal the mental scars) but she would have to have words with her little sister and A3V for using her.

A groan from the night snapped Scheherezade back on alert.  She positioned herself behind a pillar in the doorway and looked out.

“Whose there?  A3V Agent Desert Scorpion requests you identify yourself,” she cried out in Arabic then repeated it in English.

“Help me!  You must help me!” a man’s voice cried out in Arabic.

The Arab agent ran out the door to see what she could do.  Limping towards her was the sorry figure of the sheik.  Scheherezade rushed forward to prop him up.

“Are you badly hurt?  Do you need medical treatment,” she asked automatically.

The sheik nodded and croaked, “West wing, second floor, medical room.  Take me there.”

Scheherezade helped him limp into the palace and towards a bank of elevators.  As they waited for one to arrive, She realised she ought to inform the others that she had captured the sheik.  Scheherezade raised her communicator.

“No!” snapped the sheik then added in a softer voice, “You are more than capable of handling me alone.  Have you basic medical training?”

Scheherezade nodded, lowering her arm.  The sheik needed medical attention and, considering what she might do to him, being alone was not a bad idea.

“Then you shall look after me,” the sheik murmured.

The elevator arrived and they rode it to the second floor.  Soon Scheherezade had the sheik on a bed in the medical bay.  Under the glare of artificial light he seemed even more forlorn; his clothes were torn and stained with sand and blood.  Efficiently Scheherezade went round the room collecting medical equipment to fix up her patient.  As she worked the sheik talked to her.

“Tell me, woman, what do you think of me?”

Scheherezade’s eyes filled with hate and she answered in a cold rage, “You’re a monster, a fiend, who should be put down like a sick dog.  You had the chance to do great good and you squandered it trying to fulfil your sordid sexual fantasies.  When I have finished patching you up I will kill you for what you have done!”

A leer spread across the sheik’s wide face and he replied, “And do you know why you feel this way?”

“Because you took and raped my sister and dozens of other women.  Making them brainwashed slaves so that they might commit sexual acts they would not dream of.”

“Ah, but you are wrong.  Listen and I will point out why these thoughts are foolish.  First, are you a mind reader?  No?  Then you do not know what thoughts are in their minds or where they originated from.  Is this not true?”

“Yes”, conceded Scheherezade grudgingly, “but those CDs no doubt have a part to play.”

“CDs you have not heard either I take it.  You are correct that I have a part to play in their ‘situation’”, he conceded, “but not the one you think – of villain.  My lovemaking is the best any woman could wish for, my caress more desirable than heaven, my kisses pure ecstasy.  Just being near me brings out of women these sordid fantasies you speak off and very soon they are passionately in love with me.  Luckily I made a wish to become a man whose voice commands obedience and so I can control then before they harm themselves.”

“I don’t believe you,” the Arabic agent said with little conviction.  Idly she wondered what a caress more desirable than heaven felt like.

“Then take off your gloves and touch my bare knee you are treating.”

Scheherezade looked at the fat knees and fat, hairy legs of the sheik.  Flecks of blood were still on them and powdered yellow sand caked them.

“What a waste of time,” she thought.  “The loss of control must have got to his head.”

Slowly she pulled off her gauntlets and reached out with her left hand expecting nothing.  A gasp of sheer delight shot out of her as her fingers gently touched the sheik’s flesh.  She looked straight into the sheik’s eyes in astonishment.

“You believe now.  But maybe another test is in order.  Rub your cheeks against my calves; like a cat and purr if you like it.”

Unhesitatingly she dropped to her knees and brushed her face against his hairy, dirty legs.  She purred, she meowed.  Desperately she unzipped her tunic and started to caress her breasts.  Never had she felt so dirty and yet so aroused.

“You are not alone, my pet.  All women are whores, driven by their perverted sexual needs, even your sister.  Tell me what are all women, slut?”

“W…Wh… Whores, driven b..by.  Oh!  Oh! Miaow! By their perverted sexual neeeeds.  Puuurrrr.”

“Even your sister?”

“Yes!  Oh, yes!”

“Now tell me where do you think the idea to commit unspeakable sexual acts here in my palace came from?”

“Fffffrom the… women.”

“So you believe I am innocent of that charge?”

“Puurrrrr.  Purrrrrr.  Yes.  Yes.”

“Do you still believe I squandered my first wish?  That you and all those other sex fiends should run amok with no control?”

“Noo… mmmm… it was aaa purrr purrr wise choice, darling.”

“Do you still think I took them against their will?”

“Mmmmmmiiiiooooowwww.  Yes… you bbbrainwashed themmmmmiiiaaaoowww.”

The Sheik smiled cruelly, “Stop what your doing you filthy bitch and listen to me!”

Immediately Scheherezade stopped and pulled away.  She remained on her knees, her breast exposed and her eyes filled with yearning lust.

“This influence is a curse!  I have had to live here in the middle of nowhere to get the peace I crave.  But still beautiful women track me down, as you did and your friends the Global Protectors.  Beautiful women are drawn to me.  They are the most perverted and susceptible to my curse.  Look at you kneeling there with your breasts on display!  Do you want me to ravish you?  Do you want my manhood inside you?”

“Please.  Oh yes please,” Scheherezade exclaimed anticipating the orgasm to come.

“Or would you rather be somewhere else?  Should I send you away never to see me again!  How does that make you feel?”

Scheherezade’s eyes widened in horror at the thought; she needed him, she hungered for him.

“Don’t send me away.  I’ll do anything for you,” she pleaded.

“Why?”

“Because I need you so much.  You were right, I was wrong.  I am a dirty whore who craves sex and only you can satisfy me.  I’d die if I left you.”

“And what of your sister and the other women.  Do you think they feel any less?”

“No… they’re whores just like me.  They need you too.”

The sheik looked down on her with mock disdain but was secretly satisfied with her answers.  He knew he still could control this one even though he had lost control of the others, but he couldn’t understand why.  He decided to press on with subverting her to his will.

“It is written in our law that a man may take many concubines.  Is that not so?”

“It is discouraged but yes it is so.”

“So I could have you all as my concubines?”

“Yes.”

“But what if, one night I chose your sister instead of you to take to my bed.  How would you feel?”

“Desperate.  In agony.  Never leave me, beloved!” Scheherezade pleaded.

“But I must if I am to be a kind and fair master of my concubines.  Indeed you would have to spend many nights away from me.  Yet if by killing her you could take her place would you?”

“…yes… yes I would, Allah forgive me!”

“And you called me a monster and a fiend.  I could command you not to harm any of my wives, but you would still suffer the agony of many lonely nights and not being the monster the world thinks I am I could not bear that,” he lied.

“I wished for harmony in my palace and for the poor afflicted women to find peace.  Should I be blamed for the Jinniyah’s solution?”

“No,” she said shaking her head to emphasize her response.

“The only solution she provided me with was brainwashing.  What could I do?  I offered this option to my concubines: ‘be brainwashed and live with me in harmony or leave never to return’.  Tell me how they replied.”

“Brainwash me,” replied Scheherezade but it was difficult to know if it was an answer or a request.
“I offer you the same options.  What is your reply?”

“Brainwash me!  Brainwash me like the other.  I never want to leave you,” she implored him.

The sheik smiled down at the pathetic creature Scheherezade had become and offered her one of his legs.  Immediately she started kissing and caressing it; meowing and purring with pleasure.

“I cannot do it her, slut.  It is not safe.  We shall retrieve the machine that makes the CDs and flee.  When we are safe you shall be brainwashed.”

“Thank you, darling. Thank you,” Scheherezade replied between kisses.

“Then you shall use your influence in the A3V to track down my harem and I shall have them again…and those super harlots too!  How I shall make them pay!”

Scheherezade stopped kissing her lover’s feet and said, “Unfortunately, Master, Ultra Woman used a wish so that none of your harem can ever be controlled by you again.”

“WHAT!!! All of them! I shall make her suffer and you will help me.”

He sprang to his feet and started pacing angrily about; the ache in his joins only making his rage worse.

“You want me to betray my colleagues and friends?” Scheherezade asked quietly.

“I want you to betray your colleagues, your friends your lovers, anyone I say do you hear!” the sheik screamed at her.

“Even him whom I love the most?” Scheherezade asked in confusion.

“Are you deaf, whore, especially him and with a joyous heart for I demand it.”

“As you command”, she replied and then added in a crafty tone, “but a Jinniyah’s wish is there to be broken and you could control them all again through me.  If they worshipped me as much as they did you, then they would happily carry out any commands you gave me.”

The sheik missed the change in tone completely, “Yes… that’s it.  Oh how rich to have a cruel dominatrix keeping a harem of lesbians at my beck-and-call.”

“But I am not a cruel, lesbian dominatrix, Master,” Scheherezade reminded the sheik slyly.

“You will be do you hear.  I command it!  You will become one and love it.”

“I… I will obey your every wish, Master,” Scheherezade said as she slowly bowed down to hide an evil smile that crept across her face.

“Oh, Master!  Zainab was right,” she thought.  “Solomon you are not.”

“Get dressed.  We must retrieve the machine now.”

Scheherezade quickly dressed.  As the Sheik left the room, she slipped a roll of medical tape and some scissors under her robe; a plan was forming in her agile mind that would enable her to fulfil all of her lover’s desires.

 “When I came to the Middle East I didn’t expect to find the tower of Babel.  What is going on here, Tigress?” a familiar voice shouted above the hubbub of dozens of confused women.

“Diamond!” the Tigress exclaimed.  “Am I glad to see you.”

The black, African heroine ran and hugged the Afrikaner.

“Then you must be in dire straights,” the Blonde replied dryly and squirmed free.

“Do you know any Arabic?  Only Zainab and Scheherzade’s sister, Dunyazad, know English and Arabic and Zainab I trust as far as I could throw…er Mount Kilimanjaro.”

“And Dunyazad?”

“She’s too young for this business.  I think she’s seventeen and anyway she’s a victim too.”

“Sorry, I only know a few stock tourist phrases.  Why don’t I bring Scheherezade here?”

“Do that.  I would have earlier but I didn’t want to leave Ultra Woman alone with the ‘bitch formally coloured evil’.”

Diamond looked over towards Ultra Woman and her redheaded partner.  They were calming a group of the sheik’s victims and seemed to be succeeding.

“They look to be doing okay.”

“Yes they do but haven’t you ever heard the phrase ‘softly, softly catchee monkey’?”

“I have but I don’t see the connection.”

The Tigress lowered her voice, “I’d swear that witch is hitting on Ultra Woman and Super Barbie’s going all gooey eyed.  Find Scheherezade first then get to the radio room on the top floor.  Wasn’t there a rumour about Ultra Man and Ultra Woman?”

“Yes.  But the story had no facts to back it up; nothing more than media titillation.”

“See if you can’t raise him and get him over her ASAP.”

“And if I can’t?”

“Then we’ll play along and raise the alarm when we get back home.  We’re too strung out to do anything tonight.”

Diamond nodded and left.  The Tigress looked round the crowded room and her eyes met those of a young girl.  For a moment they stared at each other and then the girl wandered over casually and stood near her but did not look at her.

“How’s she been?” the heroine whispered.

“Her translations have been accurate so far”, Dunyazad replied in a whisper, “but her personal conversations with ‘UB’ have been… personal… very personal.”

Abla dropped her ruined clothes on the bed and waited.  Partly to make sure she wasn’t followed and partly to slow her racing heart.  What could have gone wrong? She wondered.  How had the three women broken their master’s control?  What if they tried to de-program her!  She took several deep breaths.  She hadn’t become head of customer relations in this hotel by panicking at every crisis.  She took stock of the situation; she had been successfully brainwashed into being Sheik Ali Akbar al-Sakkuain’s, all praise be upon him, love slave as had the three heroines.  However, they were now de-programmed whereas she, lucky, was not.  However, they didn’t know that, indeed, as far as they were concerned she was a victim of the sheik and their own actions.  Abla let out a short laugh when she realised she might be able to use their guilt against them.  Feeling she was on fairly safe ground she next planned what she ought to do; first priority was to reach her master, second to recover the CDs or at least one set of them, third recapture the heroines.
After a little thought she dropped the third task from her ‘to do’ list.  It just seemed too dangerous and would cause her to fail in the other two.  She walked over to the wardrobe she had been held in earlier that night.  Bending she scooped up the five CDs Kisume had used to start brainwashing her.  The Svelte Arab woman stood and pressed them to her bare chest.  How could she smuggle them out past those three women?  Surely they would be coming to get them too and would chase her if they were missing?  Not that she would get far naked anyway, she mused.  With this in mind she poked through the bags of clothes, those she had brought for Cindy and those Cindy had brought.  She discounted her old clothes immediately but was drawn like a moth to a flame to the erotic lingerie.  She picked out a black, leather thong with three, slender silver chains across its front, a bustier of black latex, sheer, silk stockings and black, ankle-strapped, heeled pumps.  Alba decided to wear these under Cindy’s long, black khimar.  She rubbed the smooth stockings against her cheek, revelling in their touch.  If, after her shower, she shaved or waxed her legs, put these and the shoes on with a short skirt, she knew she would catch anybodies eye.  For a fleeting moment she daydreamed about luring one of the heroines away by the power of her sexy legs, fucking her into unconsciousness and brainwashing her.  Then she put the silly thought aside and concentrated on the real problem she faced namely getting the discs away undetected but the Arab woman couldn’t think of anything.  Her initial plan of hiding them under the khimar failed when she heard them click together as she walked about.  She stuffed them in stockings and pinned them to the inside of the khimar but they then swung about as she walked, causing noticeable bumps to appear on the long, black covering and she decided the risk was too great.  Time was passing and she had no idea except the daft one involving her slender legs… and a short skirt like the one she had worn to a business conference in Paris!  The plan formed in a flash.  She dialled out from the hotel to her home.  She checked the bedside clock to confirm the rest of her family would all be home.  Her father answered the call and put her through to her sister.

“Rasheeka?  Yes it’s Abla.  No everything is fine…The hotel called earlier?  That’s strange because I’m still here.  Listen could you do me a favour?  One of the hotel guests has damaged my suit so I am stuck in their apartment until I can get a replacement…Let’s just say if I was seen in it I would be sacked on the spot…I can’t explain it over the telephone it would take too long…No!  Don’t tell anyone; you know how mother worries.  All I want you to do is bring me some clothes…okay?  Right…my Paris business suit…the one I went to Paris in!  Dark, pinstripe with a short skirt…that’s not nice but yes that one…tell them there are some important Americans arriving and they need to be reassured that the hotel is ‘Westernised’, that’s why the management have been looking for me in particular.  Do you think you can do that?  Great…It’s the penthouse.  Key nine then press four and five together and finally ‘P’ in the elevator - don’t laugh at least you’ll remember it.  It’s the west side penthouse.  Just drop them off and I’ll meet you in the lobby.  Oh, Rasheeka, this is very important, bring five plain computer CDs…Taleb must have some spare…Why?  Well you know that group you go on about…their sound engineer is here and she’s going to give me their latest album…for your friends at college of course, you’ll be so popular…yes it’s great, but not a word, you know father would disapprove so make sure no one sees the discs.  Oh and a black felt-tip pen…Rasheeka, no pen no CDs, it’s that simple and you had better hurry she’s leaving in less than an hour.  Bye.”

Abla put the receiver down quietly and decided she would take a quick shower to have more time to work on her legs.  However, first she gathered all the clothing she wasn’t going to wear and bundled it into the shopping bags.  Then going to the door to the main room she shouted through it, “I have called out for some replacement clothes, they should arrive shortly.  Here are your clothes”, and with that she opened the door a crack, pushed the bags out and closed it firmly.  She heard one of the women on the other side complain but didn’t worry; Abla knew they knew she could get them into so much trouble.

By the time Rasheeka arrived at the penthouse, Abla was patting dry two very smooth, sexy legs.  Kisume answered the door in her Arab dress.  Rasheeka first spoke in Arabic but, when Kisume just shook her head and said ‘English’, she repeated it in breathless English.

“Hi, so sorry to bother you but is my sister here?  Her name is Abla bint Hamad al-Sami and I am her sister Rasheeka bint Hamad al-Sami.  This is the suit she asked me to bring.”

The wide-eyed teenage held out a green suit holder that was almost a tall as her.  Kisume thanked the girl and took it.  There was a pause.  Kisume felt she ought to invite the girl in but, with Shannon in her Global Protectors costume, couldn’t.  Feeling very uncomfortable she thanked the girl again and closed the door.  Crossing the room she knocked timidly at the bedroom door and handed it through the crack that appeared.

Abla took the suit holder and laid it on the bed.  Opening it she found five blank discs; one in each pocket and one at the bottom of the bag with a black felt-tip pen.

“Rasheeka, you clever girl.  We make such a great team I hope Master doesn’t split us up.”
 
 

Carefully Abla copied the numbering onto the blank discs and placed them on the wardrobe floor.  With her plan coming together she suddenly found a hitch; now she would actually have to wear that whorish skirt and suit through the streets!  She picked up the above-the-knee skirt she had worn when she had been little better than an unbeliever.  How could she do it?  In front of the three women in the other room she was sure she could carry it off.  Indeed she would praise Heaven if one or more of them lost their self control and came on to her but in the street later and in front of total strangers too!  She shuddered and closed her eyes.

“I can do this,” she whispered to herself repeatedly, slowly building up her determination and crushing her newly acquired beliefs on dress.  Taking a deep breath and exhaling she dressed quickly, only slowing to caress her stockinged legs after she fastened her ankle-strapped sandals.

***

“Is she still in there?” asked Cindy striding into the room in her Star Maiden uniform.

“It’s hard to believe someone could be slower in the bathroom than you”, grumbled Shamrock.  “Do you mind if I go next, Kisume?”

“No”, Kisume replied, wishing she were more like Cindy and could say yes.

The redhead dashed into the other bathroom.  Star Maiden looked suspiciously at Kisume.

“Why the get up?”

“I am not taking up Islam, Cindy, I just had to answer the door and it was either in this, as Rising Sun or as a prostitute.”

“Hmmm, we’d better get rid of this stuff before the others return,” the Blonde said, kicking the badly packed bags of clothes.

“Perhaps I could take them away,” a melodious voice said from a bedroom doorway; it was Abla.

The two Global Protectors looked across at her in surprise; she had changed and not just her clothes!  She looked like some man-eating bitch from a boardroom in her sharp business suit, buttoned as there was clearly no blouse, tight skirt and ‘fuck me’ shoes.  Her breasts thrust forward, supported by the bustier, showing ample cleavage.  Kisume almost thought she had been brainwashed but Alba’s nervous tugging down of her skirt and obvious blushes reassured her.  Abla had practiced the manoeuvre especially before stepping out.

“Rasheeka forgot to bring a blouse,” Alba explained bashfully and blushed.  “Is there anything in those bags I might us?”

Star Maiden opened one of the bags gingerly as if fearing contamination, “Only your old blouse that’s missing a few buttons and the left sleeve.”

Kisume tried to reassure the embarrassed woman, “I think you look gorgeous, Abla.  Doesn’t she, Star Maiden?” she added looking for support.

The American heroine shot her Asian friend a suspicious glance before realising what Kisume was trying to do, “Oh… yes… your hot.  Really sexy.  Walk into your boss’s office like that and you’ll have no problems.”

“You don’t know my boss but thank you for the complement”, she flashed Star Maiden with her megawatt smile she usually reserved for billionaire businessmen, presidents and sundry male rules.

“She knows men,” Kisume said as an aside.

“Anyway”, Alba said, “would you like me to take those bags with me?”

“Just let me get Shamrock’s uniform and you can have the lot.  Rising Sun, what about those things?”  Star Maiden pointed to the clothes Kisume was wearing.

“I… I though I might keep them.  They make good cover over here and they are quite attractive; you always were good at shopping, Star, even when shopping for me.”

Cindy’s ‘gaydar’ went ‘ping’ as she placed her companion, unfairly, into a mental box labelled lesbian.

Alba left the doorway and picked up the bags, noting the long, black khimar was in there.  Maybe she could slip it on after she left.  Her parents would have a fit but they would have a fit if they saw her as she was dressed now.  They had never been happy about her ‘Paris’ suit or her trip there.  She decided to change whilst Rasheeka listened to the discs in an empty hotel room.  It would be easier to brainwash her sister at the hotel too rather than at home.

Heading for the door, which Kisume obligingly held open, with two bags of clothes and her rolled up suit holder, Abla raised one final point, “If you could talk to my boss about tonight.  Not the truth but something like ‘I was kidnapped by aliens’ or ‘a super-villain’ I would be grateful.”

“I’m sure we can put in a good word,” Cindy replied, gently shooing the woman out the door.  Only Kisume and Shannon knew of this screw-up Cindy believed and she didn’t want others like Ultra Woman and Desert Scorpion finding out.

“God!  All she has to do to keep her job is flash that bod’ in her boss’s face.  How hard can that be?” the American maiden wondered.

The door closed and Cindy and Alba breathed a sigh of relief.  They had each made it.  As Cindy gathered up the CDs and Kisume went to get clean, Abla headed off along the hotel corridor eager to find Sheik Ali Akbar al-Sakkuain and start her life of slavery.

***

Scheherezade and her master, the sheik, stood on the flat rooftop garden of the palace.  The sheik had been furious when he found out what the Tigress had done to block the music room and had ordered Scheherezade to clear the rubble out of the way.  With enthusiasm she had set to her task but with little success; some pieces of masonry were just too big.  It was only when she had prepared to start blasting at them that the sheik stopped her, fearing the noise would bring others.

The sheik’s second plan involved her rappelling off the roof and in through the window the Tigress had flown in through earlier. All Scheherezade could find for rope were silk sheets and these she was currently tying together whilst the sheik described the machine he wanted.

He described it as a white box not much larger than a home computer printer.  There were three lights on it, red for power, green for processing and blue for awaiting input.  On the front of the box was a small sliding panel that concealed a pull out microphone and ear piece.  Two lids on the top of the box, he said, would only open when a set of disks had been produced.  There were no connecting wires.

Scheherezade put her master’s talkativeness down to a state of nervous excitement and decided to see what other information she could prize from him.

“Looking at the damage in the corridor below, one can only imagine how angry and violent the Tigress was when she found your music room, Master”, she opened her gambit with.

“Yes… Yes… Hurry with those knots, girl.”

Scheherezade speeded up a little but pressed on with her plan.

“One wonders what damage she did in the room itself.  Could she smash the machines, my love and master?  To flee with a broken box of tricks, which could not be repaired, would slow us down and for nothing.”

Panic flashed across the sheik’s face.
“Yes…Yes…I had better test it once you bring it to me,” he said to himself.

“Out here?  Exposed on the rooftop!  I did order A3V to storm this place and they will bring helicopters, Master.”

The Sheik looked comical as her twisted around peering in each direction.  Scheherezade finished tying sheets together.  She picked up one end and looped it around a large terracotta pot that held a fair sized fig tree.  As she tied the silk rope tight and tested it with a few tugs in her most innocent of voices she set the trap she had just baited, “If you were to stay undercover in the gardens, I could test the machine for you in the room itself where no one could see me.”

She walked to the parapet and tossed the rope over the edge hoping her body language wouldn’t give her away – betrayal was giving her such a kick!

“If that were possible, woman, wouldn’t I have thought of it!  The box only responds to the Jinniyah.”

“Can it not be reset at all?” Scheherezade asked with a little too much alarm in her voice to her liking.  She threw a leg over the parapet and started to position herself for the descent.

“I do not know.  There is a small manual in the room that might help you.  I shall hide over there until I see you climb back up.  Do not waste time!” and with that admonition he scuttled over to a lager shrubbery and crept between the plants.

Scheherezade climbed down the rope, which she didn’t know could take her weight, past the fourth floor and into the third floor window.  Climbing into the room she looked around.  The white box, almost a casket with its two sloping lids on top, was in a corner away from a soundproof booth and a couple of tables.  Scheherezade suspected Kanika probably hadn’t seen it or only glanced at in on her way through.  The red and blue lights were on.  Ignoring her prize she started searching every table and cupboard for the manual.  As the seconds ticked by she became more frantic – without the manual and a way to reset the machine her carefully laid plans for betrayal would fall apart.  Yes, she argued to herself, she could still betray the sheik and become a cruel, lesbian dominatrix but it would be so much easier with the box, if only so she could brainwash herself into enjoying lesbian sex.

Her search took little time as there were only a few paper documents in the room and none of them was the manual.  She emitted a stream of curses in Arabic, French and English, ending back with Arabic.  Didn’t people in the future need manuals, she ranted in her mind. It’s not obvious how the box works.  There has to be a manual…but not a paper one.  She had noted and discarded several plastic tablets the size of A4 paper, which she had dismissed as small graphics tablets.  It dawned on her that there were no modern computers in the room and each of the ‘tablets’ had a thumb shaped indentation to the lower left corner.  She snatched one up and placed her left thumb in the indentation.  A screen appeared on the surface of the tablet with a picture of one of the larger futuristic consoles.  She tossed it aside and went through the rest until she found the one she wanted.  It started with a picture of the box with a number of coloured squares below it.  She touched the one to the furthest left.  Instantly a voice came from the tablet but the language was unknown to her.  Chancing her luck and feeling foolish she said, “In Arabic.”  The voice changed and spoke in fluent Arabic.  It was a woman’s voice.

“Welcome to Omi-Product’s latest portable synthesizer.  We hope you will have many years of happy, satisfactory use from this the ‘OPPS One Million’.  As will all Omi-Products synthesizers the OPPS One Million allows you to create any item you desire with the minimum of fuss; subject to the normal size limits for the product.  These limits are detailed further in the technical section later.  Input is via a standard AIV interface which can be accessed via the front panel as shown,” the screen zoomed in on the box’s front to show a small panel slide back and a small earpiece and hand held microphone fly out, “Unlike the ‘OPPS Five Thousand’ and many rival models, the ‘OPPS One Million’ has enhanced security features and the widest selection of food and drink, entertainment, learning tools, object d’art, first aid, legal small arms, historical curios and even some pre 26th Century Dark Age technology amongst many, many others.  We truly believe the ‘OPPS One Million’ is one you’ll pass on to your child’s child.

“To learn more about the ‘OPPS One Million’ press the blue button.  To learn more about other Omi-Products press the green button.  To contact Omi-Products please press the brown button.  For all other enquiries press the yellow button.  Thank you for choosing an Omi-Products product, your wish is our command.”

Bemused Scheherezade stabbed at the yellow button.  A friendly female voice spoke to her in Arabic, “Greetings, female companion of Zainab the Jinniyah.  How may I help you?”

“Eh… How can I reset the ‘OPPS One Million’ back to its original setting?”

“That is not possible without the correct password.  Do you have the correct password, female companion of Zainab the Jinniyah?”
Scheherezade bit her tongue to stop herself from impulsively saying no.  Her master had not mentioned a password.

“Did Zainab the Jinniyah set a password?”

“Zainab the Jinniyah set a password four years, one hundred and twenty seven days, six hours and thirty five minutes ago.  It has not been changed.  It will expire in two hundred and thirty eight days, seventeen hours and twenty four minutes.”

Scheherezade willed herself to think clearly, what had she been taught about code breaking by A3V – particularly computer passwords.  What would an ancient Jinniyah pick for a password?

“Open Sesame,” she guessed.

“Password accepted.  To set the ‘OPPS One Million’ back to the default values press and hold the yellow, red and green buttons on the manual for four seconds.  Then press the Blue and green button for four seconds.  Finally speak the password into the AIV interface.  I hope this answers your enquiry.”

The voice cut off and Scheherezade fumbled to reset the machine.  Putting the earpiece in, she spoke the password into the microphone.  The red and blue lights went out and came back on again.  The same female voice spoke to her through the earpiece.

“The ‘OPPS One Million’, has now been reset.  Would you like to set a password and specify one or more users?”

“My name is Mistress Scheherezade and I will be the only user.  My password will be… ‘The Global Protectors are my bitches’.”

“User and password accepted.  What would you like to create today, Mistress Scheherezade?”

Scheherezade suddenly felt afraid to ask.  So she asked another question instead.

“What if I ask for something that’s prohibited?”

“The ‘OPPS One Million’ has the greatest range of tiny to small items on offer.  In the unlikely event that an item is not available due to legal restrictions, Mistress Scheherezade, you will be notified of the fact, the legal reason for the ban and contact details of suitable legal representatives if you should wish to pursue the matter further.”

“But you won’t shut down?  I’ll still be able to use you?”

“That is correct.”

“Then I want mind control CDs.”

There seemed an age-long pause before the female voice spoke again.

“Please state the purpose of the mind control.”

Scheherezade’s face became a mask of diabolical evil.

***

When Diamond returned to the tower the scene had become much more orderly.  Most of the sheik’s victims were simply sat waiting to be taken away by the A3V team that was expected any minute, some were talking quietly.  Tigress, Ultra Woman and Zainab were stood in the centre of the room; little Dunyazad sat behind Zainab, feigning disinterest.

Diamond stood in the doorway and waved her acting boss over.  In a lowered voice she gave her leader the bad news that Scheherezade had disappeared.

“Don’t say anything to the others just yet, Diamond.  It might be nothing more than a call of nature.  Dunyazad has been through a lot and I don’t want her upset needlessly.  But what of the message?”

“Reception wasn’t good but I got a message to Interpol that the Global Protectors need to speak to Ultra Man urgently.  That’s the best I could do.”

“It will have to do.  I think this problem will have to be settled later back in New York.  I have another task for you, take some of the women and scrounge some food and water.  These women are too frightened to wander these corridors by themselves but they need food, water and to…powder their noses.”

“Ugh! Who’s getting that task?”

Tigress glanced at Zainab but didn’t say a word.

“I guess you would need a linguist for that.  I will mime eating and drinking but my artistic sensibilities, darling, simply prevent me from taking certain roles,” the Afrikaner actress put on her ‘upper class voice’ and pulled a very dismissive face.

Tigress laughed, “Get some volunteers and go, you old ham, before they eat you instead.  Meanwhile I’ll prise the Barbie Appreciation Society away from her dolly.”

The remaining two Global Protectors split up, both concerned about the absence of Scheherezade; in their trade they knew these little incidents tended to come back to bite them on the arse.

Scheherezade securely fastened the CD to her outer, left thigh and then dressed.  As she expected her loose fitting trousers, wrapped in her cloak, easily hid it.  Her movement was slightly restricted but she had decided to pass that off as weariness and aching muscles from a long hard quest.  It wasn’t far from the truth.  She went to the window and untied the last sheet, which lay below the window, from the knotted rope of sheets and wrapped it carefully around her ‘OPPS One Million’.  Then she fastened the bundle back onto the rope.

The former heroine looked at her watch, it was later than she would have liked.  She had spent longer in the music room than she had envisaged creating one CD: to turn her into the ‘evil, lesbian dominatrix hell bent on betrayal’ her master unwittingly demanded.  She only had had time to hear it once and none to create another set of discs for her victims.

Fearing a helicopter might fly overhead or one of her former colleagues might see her, she scrambled up the silk-sheet rope and climbed over the parapet.  The sheik came out of hiding without waiting for her signal and dashed over to her.  Scheherezade knelt before him.

“Master, the machine is tied to the rope and only needs to be pulled up.”

“Then get on with it you stupid slut,” hissed the sheik fiercely.  “Must I do everything?”

Scheherezade stood and leant over the parapet to retrieve the machine.  As she pulled on the rope, the sheik started to fondle her tight arse, which wiggled at each heave.  He leant over her back and she could feel his hardening manhood pressing between her thighs.  Without thinking her body started to respond to his advances by rubbing her backside into his crotch.  She felt a trickle of fluid run down her thighs.

“Allah, the master is an insatiable beast!  Even as a Lesbian I want him!” was all she could think.  She stopped pulling on the rope and concentrated on responding to the sheik’s advances.

A slight pain in her left thigh, as the sticking plaster pulled away from her skin, pierced her sexual miasma.  Her plans of betrayal were falling apart, only luck had so far prevented the sheik from running his hands over her thighs and discovering the disc.  Desperate measures were called for.  She gasped ‘Master’ a little too loudly and deliberately let go of the rope.  Gasping in fright she grabbed at the silk as it slipped passed her and prayed the machine would not come loose or smash against the wall.  It hit the wall with a dull thud.  The sheik sprang off her as if she had the pox.

“Stupid, stupid, stupid whore!  I shall cane you a thousand times for this.  If that box is damaged I shall make you like the arses of every beggar in Araby!”

Suppressing a sigh of relief, Scheherezade pulled up the machine and placed in the terrace floor.  She stepped away ostensibly to let the sheik get to the bundle, but once he was bent over it she set her ‘scorpion sting’ to stun and pointed it at him.

“At last I shall have my revenge,” whispered the sheik hugging the bundle as if it were his first male son.

“I don’t think so,” came an icy voice behind him.

The sheik looked round and his eyes opened in amazement, “What is this!  How dare you!  Put that gun away, you foolish bitch.  I command you!” he said in a raised voice.

“Oh master, you just know how much I love to do what you command”, Scheherezade said in a fawning voice which suddenly turned hard, “so I’ll only say this once.  Put down the box and stand up or I’ll kill you where you are.”
The sheik’s mouth flapped like a landed fish’s.  Then he put the bundle on the floor and stood up.

“You can’t do this… I am the sheik… your master… you must obey my word,” he kept repeating.

“And I will, my love, to the day I die…or you do.”

She fired twice with trembling hands and he fell heavily to the floor.  She slowly crumpled to the floor too, as an orgasm ripped through her.  For a few minutes she lost all awareness as her gauntleted fingers rubbed her swollen clit.  When she recovered she was covered in sweat and her face was flushed.  Her trousers and gauntlets were stained.  Groggily she got to her feet.  The master had been right; betraying the ‘one she loved the most’ was exhilarating.  Part of her considered keeping him alive so that she could do it all again, but the fact that he had still been able to arouse her disturbed her greatly and now she wanted revenge.  She kicked him viscously in the face, drawing blood from his nose, but he remained unconscious.  With a grunt she propped him up against the parapet and with a heave tumbled him over it.  A few seconds later there was a thud.

Scheherezade untied the bundle from the rope and tossed the end of the rope back over the parapet, hoping everyone would think he fell to his death climbing the rope.

With her prize clutched to her breast she drew her cloak about her and slipped into darkness.

***

It was well past midnight when the convoy of A3V vehicles arrived at the palace.  It consisted of four trucks, two Hum-Vees and two ambulances.  Scheherezade, sans box, was there to greet them and lead a squad of them to the tower where the sheik’s victims were being housed.  Others she ordered to search the palace and grounds as, she claimed, she thought she had heard something earlier.

As the group of A3V agents approached the tower they met a line of women lead by Zainab, heading towards then.  Scheherezade halted her party and let the women approach; it gave her time to check out each of the women and especially Zainab.

“Well you have turned up at last,” the redhead exclaimed.  “The others were worried when Diamond said you had disappeared.”

“I don’t have to justify my movements to her or you.  I am in charge here.  Where are you taking these women?”

“To ‘relieve themselves’ I believe was the expression the Tigress used.”

“Sergeant, assign two men to escort these women and make sure they return to the tower when they have finished.  They are not to let out of sight for a moment is that clear!”

“Ma’am, Yes ma’am!”

The sergeant selected two soldiers.

“You have twenty minutes to get back to the tower,” Scheherezade snapped at Zainab then motioned her group on.

Zainab watched her go.  The ex-jinniyah had a very thoughtful expression.

***

The women in the tower heard the crash of hobnailed boots on marble long before the soldiers arrived.  Little Dunyazad jumped up and started for the door.  As Scheherezade entered the room at the front of her men, Dunyazad dashed forward and hugged her fiercely.

“Sister!  Oh, Sister!  Why didn’t you want to see me earlier?  I was so upset.  Hold me.”

Scheherezade stiffened at this display and, squirming, peeled her excited sister off her.

“How dare you address your commanding officer like that, Agent!  Snap to attention and present yourself correctly.  I will forgive this lapse as you are my sister but never let it happen again.”

The younger girl stepped back with tears in her eyes as if she had been viciously slapped across the face.  Straightening herself up she saluted and said, “A… Agent Dunyazad reporting, Ma’am.”

That’s better,” cooed Scheherezade as she walked past Dunyazad without a second glance.

As Scheherezade coolly walked towards the group of heroines Tigress stepped forward.

“Desert Scorpion, are you alright?  How could you treat your sister like that after all she’s been through?”

“Tigress,” Scheherezade answered, “the Middle East is still a man’s world.  Women have few opportunities and those who do get ahead are constantly watched for mistakes and a chance to set them back.  My actions were necessary; I am with male colleagues, if I had acted otherwise I would have lost my hard earned respect and maybe more.  My sister and I are two of only a handful of women in A3V and only I should be a field operative; Dunyazad is only an agent in training and should not have been sent on a mission.  If I act incorrectly or allow those around me to do so, I set back the advancement of women years.  Surely you can understand?  I will find someway later to cheer my sister up.”

“I… I guess your right, but it’s just not like you to be so harsh,” Tigress stammered.

“It’s something I have had to work on, as will Dunyazad in her turn.”

Ultra Woman looked at the sad figure of Dunyazad, still standing to attention where her sister had left her.

“Perhaps you should help your sister find another path.  It hurts my heart to think of such a gentle and innocent girl brutalised so,” she said.

“She has made her choice.  If she wants to change I will support her but if she stays I will do my utmost to train her to be the best – for her own good.  Now enough of her, what has happened her?  Do you have a list of names, next of kin and last known addresses of all the women?”

“No,” spoke up Tigress.  “We thought calming them down and getting the basics like food, water and toiletries were higher priorities.”

Scheherezade tutted, “The first rule upon securing hostages or kidnap victims after they are safe is to ascertain who they are.  I see you have let them wander around outside this room.  How many have not come back, either run off in fear or kidnapped?  I heard a sound earlier and went to investigate.  I found nothing but it could have been the sheik returning or Bedouin looters.”

Diamond spoke up in defence, “They all came back because we set someone with every group that left and because we have explained the situation to them like adults!”

“Like the little convoy led by Zainab I passed on the way here?  Can you really say you trust her?  She was in league with the sheik only a few hours ago.”

“I can,” said Ultra Woman quietly but firmly.  “Ever since she became mortal she has not crossed us (“crossed you”, muttered Tigress) and as for being in league with the sheik, she was cursed to obey him.”

“Well if they have been calmed, cleaned and fed, they shouldn’t mind my men doing their job.”

Scheherezade barked out orders in Arabic to her men and they went around the room getting the women into some sort of line.  The women became agitated.

“Please, Scheherezade, stop this.  Can’t you see how frightened they’re becoming?  If you want information let us get it,” Tigress implored.

Before Scheherezade could tell her former ally that she could go to hell, a soldier ran up to her and saluted.  He gabbled off a quick report in Arabic.  Scheherezade’s face darkened.

Rounding on the heroines she informed then, “It seems my fears were justified.  The sheik did slip into the palace.  Some guards have found him.  He’s badly injured, unconscious, in the grounds.  He must have fallen from the roof garden.  He may die from his wounds if he’s not treated quickly.  Could one of you ladies fly him to a hospital in Riyadh perhaps?”

Ultra Woman was appalled at the suggestion, “If he’s that badly injured moving him incorrectly could kill him.  Flying him across hundreds of miles of desert certainly would.”

“Would that be such a bad thing?  Look at what he has done.”

“We refuse, Desert Scorpion,” Tigress said firmly.

Scheherezade bit her lip wondering how far she could push them.  She desperately wanted the sheik dead but that took a back seat to her main desire as a lesbian dominatrix to control the sheik’s harem.  With her new mindset she couldn’t understand why the heroines were opposed to her but she could see they were and becoming suspicious.

“What have I done wrong to tip them off?” she wondered.

As tactfully as possible she backed down.

“No.  I suppose it would be too much to ask of you.  Luckily I ordered a couple of ambulances to accompany the convoy, just in case some of the sheik’s victims needed treatment.”

She turned to the soldier and issued some orders, then turned back to the heroines, “It will take longer and cost a messy trial but he’ll still die.  The sheik has angered too many powerful families to avoid the death penalty.”

As if nothing had happened she took the Tigress’ arm saying, “And now, Tigress, we two leaders have matters to discuss.  Walk with me.”

Startled by this sudden change in subject, the Kenyan found herself being marched away from Ultra Woman and Brooke and out the door.  As they passed Dunyazad, Scheherezade casually said, “Dismissed, Agent,” without looking at her sister.

Dunyazad stepped down from attention and Ultra Woman and Diamond ran to her side.  Scheherezade and a bemused Tigress left the room and walked the silent halls of the palace.

***

“The Middle East has always been suspicious of foreign involvement in its affairs and never more so than now.  I do not think you would like the sheik made into an Islamic martyr who was picked on by Americans,” said Scheherezade as she and Kanika strolled along the palace corridors.

“I can’t see how they could.  You yourself said his crimes were all against Muslim women until the Global Protectors got involved and, besides, the Global Protectors aren’t an American group; we’re Global and Ultra Woman is an Amazon.”

“But both you and Ultra Woman are based in America and live a Western lifestyle.  None of you are Muslim and that alone would be seen as a slight from a group claiming to be ‘Global Protectors’.  As for his crimes, they would be very hard to prove.  Talk of Jinniyah and futuristic mind control would not be hard to have thrown out of court.”

“And the harem of reluctant women?” Kanika interjected.

“Although it is frowned upon these days, it is not illegal for a man to have many wives in our culture.  Your outrage at it might be seen as an attack upon our culture.  Our adventures together might be shown in a different light to whip up hatred between East and West:  three super heroines travel to see a holy man in the Middle East.  So impressed are they with his teachings they reject their decadent Western ways and embrace Islam…and him.  Returning to their home to spread the true faith they are set upon by their former friends and imprisoned.  These friends then set out like a Wild West lynching party for revenge; which they get.  The sheik is attacked and found near death after ‘apparently’ falling from the roof garden; a roof with quite a high parapet.  All this happens before any local law enforcement arrives on the scene.  The sheik’s harem, having been left alone with the three powerful attackers, now all swear they were abducted by the sheik.  But they cannot explain the lack of walls or guards nor why they were armed and the sheik wasn’t and yet they were the ones being victimised by the sheik.”

“Surely your government… the A3V or you could back up the truth.”

“With the evidence of a dud magic lamp and technology no one understands nor dares to use?  No, they, we, I would be seen as a pawn of the West and that would undermine our government.”

Kanika stopped walking and turned to the A3V agent, “You want use to walk away and pretend nothing happened.”

“Yes, Kanika.  The sheik will be tried as a terrorist whose plots were uncovered by Dunyazad.  She was captured but not before raising the alarm.  It will be reported that tonight A3V forces raided the compound and, after a brief struggle, captured the sheik and incrimination evidence.  The sheik will be quickly tried and executed.  His harem quietly returned to their families, Dunyazad will be a heroine and there will be no ammunition for the fundamentalist!”

“I’m sorry I questioned you,” Kanika said, suddenly weary.  She ran a hand through her hair, looked both ways along the corridor and stretched as if the weariness were physical.  “You’re right.  This was our first mission outside America and I thought it would show the world we are truly global.  I didn’t think people would look at it any other way.”

“…because you have a good heart, Kanika.”

…and a great body, Scheherezade didn’t add.

“Must he be executed?”

“He has angered a lot of powerful families and he is very dangerous.  Until he dies his wishes must come true.  Please, take your friends away before they are touched by it.  I could not bear to see innocent Kisume or Shannon feeling any guilt over something beyond their control.”

Scheherezade blinked her eyes to try a force a tear but none came.  It didn’t matter Kanika was convinced.

“Let’s go back to the others and I’ll take them away.”

Scheherezade’s step was that bit lighter on the return journey; with the heroine’s out of the way she should have no trouble smuggling the box off site and start brainwashing the sheik’s harem.

***

When Kanika returned to the tower room with Scheherezade she found most of the women lined up to be questioned by the A3V agents.  To be fair the agents did seem to be carrying out their orders as sensitively as possible.  Diamond and Zainab were stood over Ultra Woman and a couple of the sheik’s former slaves who were trying to console a crying Dunyazad.  The Global Protectors’ leader felt her companion stiffen.

“Leave this to me,” Kanika whispered and marched across the room before Scheherezade made another insensitive outburst.

Kanika caught Ultra Woman’s eye as she crossed the floor and the blonde Amazon made way for the African woman.  Zainab sidled up to Ultra Woman and placed a hand lightly on Ultra Woman’s rear.  Ultra Woman’s eyes widened a bit but that was the only reaction she gave.

Kanika held both of Dunyazad’s little hands in hers and looked up into her young face.

“Dunyazad, I understand how you feel.  After all you have been through to be brushed off by your sister.”

“It’s not what I’ve been through…I’m over that pretty much…nothing I did was me…nothing I felt was me either.

(Zainab gave Ultra Woman’s butt a squeeze.  Ultra Woman felt a glow pass through her body at this recognition of her first wish and she pushed back a little against the hand)

“It’s just seeing Scheherezade act so beastly.  We are so close…I have never seen her act like that.  I… I am afraid.”

“Dunyazad, your sister has been under tremendous stress ever since you fell under the sheik’s power and these past few days have been the worst.  If it hadn’t been for your sister we would have failed.  It was that close.  She almost lost you forever tonight.  That’s a lot to bear and now with all these men around she has to show a professional front.  You understand how it is in the army.  We all think she was harsh with you…even she does, but after all the events of today can you understand why she came across too strong?”

Kanika squeezed the young teenager’s hands gently.  Dunyazad nodded slowly.

“I am sure when you go home tonight she will ask you to forgive her and she will make it up to you somehow.  I know she’s not a bad woman and she does care about you.”
Whilst she waited for her words to sink in Kanika brushed a strand of hair out of Dunyazad’s face.  It had stuck on dried tears.

“Now let some of these ladies help you get cleaned up and stay with them until it’s time to go home.  You’re a victim her just like them and shouldn’t be treated like an active agent.”

“Won’t you help me get cleaned up?” mumbled Dunyazad.
“I’m afraid my friends and I have to go.  If we stay there could be trouble but we will be back to check on you real soon and there’s always our web site if you need help.”

Kanika stood up.  She had done as much as she could for the girl in the time available.  She glanced across at Scheherezade, who was talking with a soldier.  Was she acting strange even for these circumstances Kanika wondered?  It was hard to say as she didn’t know the culture that well nor Scheherezade for that matter; a few days on a mission tells you something about a person but not everything.

“What do you mean we are leaving?” asked Ultra Woman.

“Yeah!” seconded Diamond.

“We have done everything we can to do and our presence here could be damaging diplomatically.  I’ll explain on the way back to the hotel.”

“You’re the boss, Tigress,” Diamond said with a voice full of tiredness.  “A few hours sleep in a hotel bed sounds great.”

“Okay,” was all Ultra Woman said.

As the three heroines moved to leave, Zainab followed.

“Where are you going?” asked Tigress.

Zainab moved closer to Ultra Woman, “With Ultra Woman.”

The tall Amazon put a protective arm around the redhead.

“I said she could come with me…for a while.”

Kanika really didn’t like the sound of that but didn’t feel now was the time to make an issue of it.

“Then bring her along.  I’ll radio ahead and let the others know we’re having a guest.”

The two remaining Global Protectors, Ultra Woman and Zainab walked out of the palace unchallenged.  Outside Zainab and Ultra Woman grasped each other and flew off.

“Race you,” cried Zainab as she disappeared from sight.

Brooke and the Kanika said nothing, nothing needed to be said.  They just flew up after them.

***

The news of the raid on Sheik Ali Akbar al-Sakkuain’s palace barley got a mention in the press.  Few ordinary people cared but many important people did, so the news was played down.

Abla and Rasheeka were inconsolable and took to Abla’s bedroom to think what they could do to aid their beloved.  They soon bounced back with a plan of action: the two of them would search the hospital where the sheikh was being held for a suitable female nurse to become his next slave and then steal the sheikh.

Scheherezade was furious that her attempted murder had failed and spent the morning pondering her next move, either to seduce her sister or ensure the sheik’s death.  She decided on the latter; while the sheikh was in a coma in hospital the security would be relatively lax and the best time to strike.

In a penthouse suite on top of a prodigious Riyadh hotel the main topic of interest was the rota through the bathrooms and then breakfast.

“For some reason”, said Ultra Woman in a puzzled voice, “room service no longer covers the penthouse area until further notice.  I don’t know why.  It looks live we shall have to make our own breakfast.”

“But we’re renting a penthouse!  They can’t do this!” bawled Cindy.

“Actually no one has rented this penthouse,” Ultra Woman admitted.  “I pulled a few strings to get it.”
Ultra Woman hung up the phone, returned to the large table the group of women were sat around and took her place between Zainab and Brooke.

“We will have to leave the place as we found it.  I hope you didn’t cause too much of a disturbance last night.”

“No!”  Kisume, Cindy and Shannon all said at once.

“Except Cindy’s a bit of a screamer,” Shannon added in an offhand way.

“Shannon!  You lying, Irish, redheaded… carrot-top!” Cindy yelled going red in the face.

“Joke, Cindy.  Just a joke,” Shannon laughed.

Cindy was not amused.

Brooke turned and asked Ultra Woman to pass the orange juice.  As she did so, the keen eyed South African noticed Zainab’s right hand resting on Ultra Woman’s thigh and Ultra Woman’s left hand on top of it!  It took all of her acting ability to hide the fact that she had noticed.  The Amazon passed the juice.

Kisume raised her glass, “To the Global Protectors and Ultra Woman…and her friend Zainab…success in our first overseas mission.”

There was a chorus of ‘success’ from the others.

“Did we win?” asked Shannon to no one in particular.

“Mostly,” replied Kanika.  “The sheik is defeated, his harem freed, our companions are free too, all the sheikh’s surviving mind-control equipment (here she tapped a stack of CDs in front of her) is in the hands of the authorities or us and an evil Jinniyah has been defeated.  No offence, Zainab.”

Zainab pulled a sour face.

“…but”, continued Kanika, “Doctor Boyd is still missing and that must be the Global Protectors next priority.

“I’d like to thank you, Ultra Woman, for your help.  The sheik caught us with our pants down and pushed us to breaking point.  If you hadn’t been there with us, to tackle rampaging Cindy or keep Dunyazad from killing herself or dealing with…Zainab, I don’t believe we would have pulled through.”

The other Global Protectors added their own thanks, even Cindy; just to be polite.  Ultra Woman returned the compliment, citing Kanika’s wisdom to call in friends when needed, determination against a powerful foe and compassion when dealing with his victims.  The Amazon ended with the hope this first joint venture would bring closer cooperation and coordination between them.

“…and now”, said Ultra Woman, “Zainab and I have to be going.  We will return Scheherezade’s magic carpet if that is okay with every one.”

“You’re taking Zainab back to America with you?” Shannon asked startled.

“I know you find it difficult to understand but Zainab has nowhere to go and nobody to ask for help.  I feel partly responsible for her plight, so until she is more settled in the twenty first century I said I would look after her.”

Zainab and Ultra Woman looked at each other a little too lovingly for the others’ liking.

“Why don’t we ride the carpet?  It’s been a long time since I had the change but you never forget how and it would be easier than carrying both it and me”, suggested Zainab as they walked to the rooftop garden.

“Oh, go on then,” Ultra Woman replied with a smile.  “It will be pleasant to sit and fly through the early morning air.”

With a final wave and round of goodbyes the two women rose into the sky on the carpet and sailed out of view.

“Kisume, Shannon, Cindy have one last scout round the penthouse and make sure everything is in order”, ordered Kanika.

The three women went indoors.  Brooke tugged Kanika’s sleeve.

“Aren’t you a little concerned about Scheherezade after last night’s performance and Ultra Woman?”

“I think Scheherezade was just very tired and the stress just got to her last night.  I’m sure she will be different after a nights sleep.  As for Ultra Woman, I don’t know.  I don’t trust Zainab but she has to be human, that was a requirement of the wish, so she can’t have a magical or mental hold over Ultra Woman.  If Ultra Woman likes that type then that’s between her, Zainab and Ultra Man to sort out.  I know Zainab is evil and if she leads Ultra Woman astray then we and Ultra Man will step in, but maybe Ultra Woman will lead Zainab astray.  I said last night ‘softly, softly catchee monkey’ but who is the monkey?”

Brooke and Kanika waited in silence for the others to return; Kisume with her bundle of clothes and the CDs.

As the early morning sun rose out of the desert the Global Protectors took their leave of the penthouse and flew to the airport – next stop International House!

The end.