Stoner emerged from the shower and dressed. The butler assisted him in dressing, tied his boots, held out his shirt. When he was dressed Stoner ordered the butler to tell Jeremiah to “get the bitch ready”. He left to begin his morning rounds.
Jeremiah entered the room about a half hour after Stoner left. She was wheeled in the cage down the hall and into the wives’ room where Mary and Justine were waiting for her. Jeremiah released Cheryl from the cage and told her to bath herself. She was given a small pastry to eat. He instructed Justine and Mary to apply her makeup and perfumes. He would be back to dress her in an hour.
Justine and Mary leapt to hug Cheryl once Jeremiah had gone. Cheryl burst into tears at their affectionate embrace. Justine tried to console her. “There, there now, Cheryl, go ahead and cry. I’ll bet that bastard hurt you bad last night. Cry your heart out.”
And Cheryl did. There was not much else to do but cry since resistance or escape was impossible. She was condemned to a life of torment.
Cheryl was not permitted to stand and cry for long. “Come on, Cheryl, we’ve got to get you ready,” Mary exclaimed. “We’ll all catch holy hell if you’re not presentable when Jeremiah returns.”
And so the two women escorted Cheryl to the shower. They cleaned her, washed her hair, dried it and toweled Cheryl’s body quickly but tenderly. When done, they combed out her long brown hair and made up her face. Other than applying moisturizing cream, they did nothing to address Cheryl’s face or lips. Instead, they carefully outlined and shaded her eyes, pressed and curled her lashes. Her nipples and the lips of her sex were rouged and a sweet, heavy perfume applied to her body. They were just finishing when Jeremiah came in the door. He was carrying a pile of white clothing. As he discharged them from his arms, Cheryl could see a flowing white robe and matching headdress. Jeremiah had her step into the robe that buttoned down the back as far as her waist. In the front, the bodice was split down to the base of Cheryl’s breasts. Its panels were designed to overlap so that the breasts, while accessible, were covered. A white rhinestone studded belt went around her. Like the belt that she had worn the night before, this belt had cloth strands at the hips and Cheryl’s wrists were tied in place.
Jeremiah reached into the pocket of his robe and pulled out a large ball of a spongy, gummy substance. He rolled it into a perfect sphere and popped it into Cheryl’s mouth. Cheryl’s mouth was filled with the malleable ball. It had a bittersweet taste, like honey mixed with baker’s chocolate. It seemed to begin to dissolve as soon as it hit the moisture of Cheryl’s mouth. Its effect on Cheryl was immediate. The ball actually consisted of a mixture of honey, chocolate and a generous dollop of the locally produced hashish. Cheryl could feel her mind numbing as the hash extruded its potent chemicals. It was powerful hash, laced with opium. Cheryl would be as calm as a summer’s day throughout the coming event. No need to upset the local Imam with any disconcerting outbursts or embarrassing resistance to the upcoming ceremony. Jeremiah wrapped a wide piece of white gauze several times around Cheryl’s head, covering her mouth and lips. She would not be able to expel the drugged ball without a strenuous effort and, while under the drugs’ effects, Cheryl would be incapable of anything strenuous.
A thick veil, virtually opaque, was next. It ran over the bridge of Cheryl’s nose down to her chest and connected to a headdress that covered her hair and ran long down her back. It blended nicely with the robe, almost seamlessly. The last touch was a circle of lavender and white orchids draped around her neck. The bride was ready.
While Jeremiah was dressing Cheryl, Mary and Justine donned similar robes and veils. Theirs were colored a deep purple, a sign that they were Stoner’s number one and number two wives. Jeremiah grabbed Cheryl by the arm and led her from the room.
Their destination was a wide, shaded veranda that circled the side of the mansion. It opened up to a small courtyard. When the wedding party arrived, the courtyard was filled with Stoner’s troops, household servants and workers from the fields. The Imam stood waiting. On the side stood several of Stoner’s officers, his “General” included. Amongst them was a slender, hunched figure dressed in a black chador. Tiny barefoot woman’s feet poked out from the bottom.
Stoner was the last to arrive. His only concession to the ceremonial aspect of the day was that he was wearing a green polo shirt, rather than his usual khaki one. As soon as he stepped up the ceremony began.
Now if you can only have three wives and you already have three, one of them has to go. And so today there would be a divorce and then a wedding.
The Imam spoke in the local dialect and Jeremiah translated.
“You have called upon me to sever your bonds of matrimony to a fallen wife,” the Imam intoned. “Pray, present the wife and the grounds for your divorce.”
Stoner motioned to his officers and two of them led the slight, trembling figure in black forwards.
“This is my wife Sara, Imam, and she has committed adultery.”
“Who has lain with this woman?” queried the Imam.
Two of Stoner’s officers stepped forwards. “I have,” they replied, almost in unison.
“Do you swear upon your maker that this is true?
“We do Imam,” they both replied.
The Imam turned to Stoner. “I absolve you of your oath to this woman. She is to be stripped and cast out of your house. You may sell her body in the marketplace and extract your revenge from her flesh.”
The two guards pushed the small woman towards her former mate. Stoner stepped before her and drew the hood and veil from her. He then grabbed hold of the black fabric around Sara’s neck and ripped it open, all the way to the ground.
Sara stood there naked and trembling. Her eyes were red and the marks of the whip covered her body. She was gagged and her hands were bound to her sides. She dared not look Stoner in the face.
Stoner looked over at the guards. “Remove this slut from my home. Take her to the soldier’s huts where she can ply her trade.” A roar went up from the soldiers in the crowd as Sara was hustled from the veranda. As she was being dragged down to the barracks, Stoner again addressed the Imam. “I present you with my new bride. It is our desire that you marry us.”
Jeremiah edged Cheryl forwards.
“And who speaks for this woman?” the Imam inquired.
“I speak for her,” Jeremiah replied.
“Do you consent to her joining in marriage to this man?”
“I do, my Imam,” Jeremiah answered.
“And so shall it be. You are wed.”
A desultory applause came from the crowd. Cheryl was barely conscious of what was going on around her. She had seen poor Sara stripped and led away. She had heard the roar of the soldiers. The tall, black, white bearded Imam spoke and Jeremiah replied. Was this it? Was she married?
Stoner took hold of Cheryl’s arm and led her forward so that the crowd could better see her. Only her dull but well decorated eyes were visible. A servant wheeled a padded platform in front of her. Stoner pushed her against it. It came up to her waist. For a moment, Stoner hesitated and the crowd hushed. Then, without warning, he reached in front of Cheryl and pulled aside the panels of the bodice, exposing Cheryl’s pale, heavy, chalk white breasts to the crowd. A roar of approval rang out.
In her dazed state, Cheryl was not sure what she thought had been done was real. Was she really standing before this enthusiastic crowd with her breasts bare for all to see? She tried to pull her hands from her waist to cover herself, but the bindings held them tight. She pushed her back futilely against Stoner, trying to get away, but he held her firmly pressed against the platform.
As the applause died down, Cheryl felt her torso being pushed down on the platform and strapped in place. She felt her ankles spread and tied to its sides.
Grabbing the hem of Cheryl’s robe, Stoner separated the two halves that had been left free below Cheryl’s waist. Her rear was exposed and her sex peaked out from between her thighs. Cheryl, though stoned, realized that she was about to be fucked by her new husband in front of all of these people. She struggled to raise herself, but could manage little effort. Someone was stroking her sex, tickling her little bud of pleasure. She felt warmth there and recognized the feel of a hot tongue and lips.