Chapter Twenty-four

IT WAS BEWILDERING HOW swiftly the unique insulated world the quartet had enjoyed collapsed. Ant Van Reis left again as soon as he had finished thrashing the two figures still pinioned to each other on the bed, though they were scarcely aware of his departure at the time, lost as they were in the throbbing pain that made every move a fresh shooting agony. They managed to wriggle onto their sides, still intimately joined from head to toe, and their tears mingled as their lips touched. Clio’s mental anguish was almost as severe as the physical torment of her lacerated bottom as she tried to take in the shock of what had happened to her. For all the robustness of their love play, Ant had never used a violence whose chief intention was to inflict pain. If anything, it was hercorporal punishment of their two minions which had sometimes made him uncomfortable with its sadistic intensity. It had made her feel ashamed in the aftermath of one of her outbursts, for which she had sheepishly and penitently apologised. So this unique turn of events was doubly shattering for her, as she began at last to recover from the first stage of stunned horror and throbbing hurt. It was worsened by finding herself literally shackled to Jan, and naked like her two companions. Her whole status had been destroyed by Ant’s fury; his stripping her and tying her to Jan had reduced her to the level of the two who had, willing or not, been their virtual slaves.

Just how far their servility had been instilled in Jan and Marty was emphasised by the fact that even after Ant’s abrupt departure, Marty stood trembling and gazing impotently at the two entwined females without any thought of moving to assist them, until Clio groaned, ‘For fuck’s sake, Marty! Get us out of this!’

His efforts to free them took longer than it had to tie them together, but eventually he succeeded, with the help of a pair of Clio’s nail scissors, to pick and cut his way through the layers of sticky tape and set them free. Seconds later they were both lying on their stomachs, still groaning and crying softly, side by side, while Clio moaned out instructions for him to bathe their wounds, and then to slather their posteriors with plentiful layers of fragrant moisturiser. Though their bums flinched and quivered and tightened at his gingerly laid on hands, and they whimpered in protest throughout his mercy errand, they were too beaten, both emotionally and literally, to put any real venom in their objections. There was both defeat and pathos in her weary tone when Clio finally murmured her few broken phrases of gratitude for his attentions, so that Marty felt his eyes mist and his throat close with compassion for the forlorn figure.

Though he had largely forgotten it over the long months of his and Jan’s subjection, Clio was still technically his wife. He was taken aback by the strength of tenderness he still had for her. It was very different from the closeness he felt towards Jan, intimate as that was. There had always been a special sense of equality with her, even in those distant days of their amateur theatricals, when they were part of that conventional world outside, before they had become the possessions of the dynamic couple who had come to rule their lives. He had never thought of himself as Clio’s equal, at any moment of their long association. That was why it was doubly distressing to see her brought so low by her lover’s unforeseen violence and rage towards her.

Both he and Jan were all too aware of the catastrophe which had descended on their strange little enclosed world, and they longed for the security they had known in their serfdom. The weeping Clio was no longer their mistress. Naked, tearful as they were, her behind livid with the raised weals of Ant’s brutal whipping, just like Jan’s, she was at one with them in their misery and anxiety. Both Jan and Marty tried their best to console her, lying either side of her on the bed, caressing and comforting, striving to reassure her and themselves. ‘It’ll be all right,’ Jan murmured, her lips close to the tearstained cheek. ‘I’ll find Odhiambo. Commandant Onama will help. I’ll talk to him, to both of them. I’ll make sure ...’ she faltered, felt herself blushing, her embarrassment at odds with the rousing spectacle of their unclothed bodies in such close contact.

‘No! Please!’ The fact that she was pleading instead of commanding indicated how drastically Clio’s relationship with the other two had changed. ‘Just wait. Let’s just stay here – together, all three of us. Until Ant comes back. Once he’s cooled down ...’ The tears came again, choking off further words, and she reached out, gently hugging them to her. The uncertainty of her incomplete sentence reflected the fear all three shared at the drastic changes which had overtaken them.

Darkness fell and still they lay huddled together on the bed. The comfort they derived from the contact of their naked bodies had nothing to do with sex but everything to do with their need for tenderness, and for some sort of security. All three stiffened suddenly as they heard the noise of someone entering the living room, but they quickly realised from the clatter of crockery and the voices that it was Adamu and Muriamu starting to prepare dinner. Clio groaned. ‘Oh God! I couldn’t face ... Marty, would you go and tell them not to bother? Tell them to fix some salad or sandwiches or something, then they can go. Have the night off.’ She gave a bitter little laugh. ‘They probably heard all the row. I must have screamed my head off.’ Somewhat reluctantly, Marty began to lever himself up, and Clio reached out. Her hand fell across his wrist. ‘Bless you, darling. I don’t know what I’d do if you two weren’t with me.’ The tears rose yet again, and she gave way to them, almost with a sense of decadent luxury, and buried her head in Jan’s warm breasts, welcoming the thin arms that drew her protectively in.

For the first time in months, Marty found himself blushing, and his hands fluttered over his sexual organs as he relayed Clio’s wishes. The simultaneous stares and grins of the couple added to his shame. ‘Ndio, bwana.’ Yes, sir. The added insult of the courtesy title Adamu used was evident in the broad contemptuous smile which accompanied it, as well as the rising snigger from the maid.

The bedroom was a cosy lamp-lit cocoon as the long hours of the evening then the night advanced. All three ate together, drank coffee, then ice-cold glasses of lager, picnicking on the wide bed. They remained naked, though with a strange new self-consciousness that was not unpleasant. ‘I don’t think I could bear anything touching my poor backside.’ Clio’s confessional smile had a touch of shyness about it. It was part of this altogether new sense of intimacy bringing them close together. When the hour grew late, she said bravely, with just the slightest tremor, ‘Will you two stay with me, please? Ant won’t come back tonight, I know he won’t. He’s probably already sleeping it off somewhere. We can manage here, can’t we?’ She gestured at the tumbled bed they were all sprawling on. ‘I can tell you, Iwon’t be tossing about. My poor arse hurts if I blink!’ She gave a trembly little laugh. She paused fractionally. ‘Unless you two would rather ... you know ... be on your own. I mean in your ... be with each other. It’s OK if you want to.’

Their denial was spontaneously identical. Clio was lying on her right side, still in loose embrace with Jan, and now, with a wincing groan, she very carefully eased herself onto her back, drawing up her knees to try to ensure that her buttocks made as little contact as possible with the cover beneath. Jan raised herself on one elbow, leaning her bald head close to her mistress’s shoulder, and very gently began to play with Clio’s left nipple, teasing it to erection with her fingers.

Clio gave a little shiver of appreciation, pulled the pale skull down, encouraging Jan’s mouth and flickering tongue to add their excitation to the plucking fingers, and gave a shaky sigh. In spite of her discomfort, her frame stirred in responsive pleasure. ‘Do you remember Observatory Hill, Marty?’ she murmured. Her hand was stroking Jan’s bent, bare, nuzzling head. ‘That was the first time we slept out, all night. Under the stars. God! It was great, wasn’t it?’

Marty could only nod. His eyes filled with tears, and he had to swallow hard. His wife’s dreamy tone continued. ‘It was the first time we fucked properly too, wasn’t it? It was so good!’ Her words were directed at Jan now. ‘He was right inside me, I could feel him, hard in me! God! I came and came and came!’ She pulled Jan’s captive head close, pressing the face into the softness of her breast, her hand cupping the high forehead, her lips bestowing a tender kiss on the bare skull.

Marty sighed, dipped his own head and took her right nipple in his suckling mouth, pushed his face against the yielding swell of the breast, and let his tears flow onto the lifting flesh. Now her arms encircled both her acolytes’ shoulders, hugged them like twin infants to her bosom, in that peaceful seminal moment of unity. There were no more words, but all three felt that sense of change, the end of the enclosed world they had shared. However unconventional or even decadent it had been, they all shared in mourning its passing.

Ant did not come back. After a long night of fitful slumber, another endless day passed. The bedroom seemed both sanctuary and cell, from which they were reluctant to move, even to use the lavatory or bathe. Once again, Marty served as the reluctant contact with the servants in the distant kitchen, from which he ferried makeshift snacks along the corridor. Both the girls’ behinds were now covered in dark bruises and hard raised ridges marking the fall of the belt, and were still wincingly tender, even to the lightest touch. Eventually, sometime in the early afternoon, Clio, said, ‘Listen. We’d better put some clothes on. You two as well.’ The significance of her words was emphasised as she added, ‘Not those damned kanzus! I mean proper clothes.’

They stared at her in consternation. She failed to disguise the anxiety she could see reflected in the looks the other two fixed on her. ‘Just in case anyone calls ... I mean, Ant will turn up tonight. He must! But in case ...’ She even tried a smile. ‘There’s that white mini of mine that looks quite a respectable length on you, Jan. You can take your pick from the undies’ drawer. Mind you, I don’t think I could bear to put a pair of knickers on, could you? Marty! There’s still some old stuff of yours kicking about, unless Adamu’s snaffled it all! Come on, kids, let’s cover our arses with something!’

Nobody called, and Ant did not show up for a second night which seemed even longer as they all three clung together under the single sheet. None of them could keep up even the pretence of a brave front. ‘Where is he? What’s happened to him?’ Clio groaned, and Marty and Jan strove to distract her with their loving embraces and hopeless attempts at optimism.

They were still lying wearily abed in the bright morning sunshine of a new day when they heard the roar of a vehicle and the skid and spurt of gravel at its violent halt in the drive. There were cries of alarm from the direction of the quarters, then the sound of booted feet on the veranda, and barked commands. The booming voice of Commandant Onama grew menacingly louder as he made straight for the bedroom. ‘Aha! Not all the birds have flown, I see!’ His big shining face broke into a beaming grin. His eyes darted about in his desire to miss nothing as he observed the three nude figures trying to hide beneath the sheets and at the same time to scramble into their various items of clothing.

The full horror of his opening remark hit them a few minutes later when they sat side by side on the settee in the living room, dishevelled and barefoot, but at least decently covered, stunned at Onama’s explanation. The piggy gaze fixed first on Clio. ‘Your lover, my dear–’ his eyes flickered to the two figures either side of her – ‘and yourmaster, has fled and will not be returning. He has cleaned out all his bank accounts, and transferred all the money from his transport business abroad. He has apparently informed the Agricultural Ministry of his quitting of the stock farm. Whether he has embezzled any of its funds is not clear at this moment. We presume he has headed down south.’

He smiled cruelly at the consternation written plainly on the three distraught faces. ‘You knew of course that he deserted his wife and family in South Africa four or five years ago, so you are not the first to be dumped, my dear.’ He took a sadistic pleasure in watching the shock and hurt spread over Clio’s lovely features. ‘But I’m afraid you have other immediate concerns to worry about. Allof you,’ he added, glancing again at the other two equally frightened figures. ‘You’ll have to come with me, I’m afraid. I have to arrest you for investigation into serious charges of gross immorality and illegal sexual activity. Come with me, immediately.’

Their weeping protests were ignored, and they were hustled out into the dusty compound and the waiting Jeep without time to collect any belongings or even to cover their tender feet.