The sound of voices woke Zoe. When she tried to swallow to relieve the dryness in her throat she realized that her mouth was still filled by the ball gag which held her jaws painfully apart. She opened her eyes but to her dismay found that she was still enveloped in the darkness of a blindfold. She guessed that she'd been strapped back down onto the bench. She tried moving her arms but they were pinned back above her head again by the wristcuffs that kept her arms spread and taut. Her legs were also bound and for a moment she twisted, testing her restraints. It was hopeless. She sighed, gave up struggling and concentrated instead on listening to the noises around her.
'Pull back the girl's flesh at the side of her mouth here.'
Zoe shook her head, trying to stop them as gloved fingers pulled back the corner of her mouth allowing an opening for the cold, hard plastic of a syringe to slip into her mouth. Zoe tried twisting her head away but hands restrained her, holding her head still as liquid was trickled into her mouth. Fingers pinched her nostrils, stopping her from breathing and forcing her to swallow, though with the ball gag forcing her mouth wide it would have been impossible for her to have spat the liquid out anyway. Reluctantly she gulped and felt the liquid trickle down her throat.
'Let her breathe again, she's swallowed it.'
'How long does it take?'
'A few minutes and she'll be docile enough. She's so slim that with the quantity I've given her she'll probably pass out in a few minutes.'
'Right, untie her. The sooner she's moved from here the better. The British Embassy is starting to ask too many questions.'
'Do you think they've guessed?'
'What does it matter? They can't prove anything and by tomorrow morning she'll be where no-one will ever find her.'
Zoe could feel one of the men stroking her naked body. His hand ran over her flank then her ribs and her stomach. She made a show of struggling then pretended to give up. A moment later she groaned through the gag then let her head slump sideways as if she'd lost consciousness. If she could just keep awake for as much of the journey as possible she might find out more about her abductors and where she was being taken.
She felt the pressure on her arms and legs slacken then several pairs of hands lifted her from the bench. She was laid on the cool stone floor and her arms pulled behind her back. The wristcuffs were then clipped together and a belt was slipped around her arms above her elbows. As the belt was tightly buckled, drawing her arms closely against her back, she felt the drug taking effect. She was only vaguely aware of her legs being bound together as a chemical-induced lethargy overtook her. When she was lowered into a crate though, her head knocked against the side and for a moment she recovered enough of her senses to catch part of the men's conversation.
'Take her back to the tower. No one will disturb you there. I must remain in the capital. You know how to deal with her?'
'I think I've had enough practice now, Major. The Australian girl, the teenage backpacker, she turned out well enough didn't she?'
'She was weak to start with, Sir Rodney. This woman is a trained Secret Service Agent. She will resist your efforts to subdue her will.'
'Don't worry Major, she'll end up like all the others.'
There was a heavy thud above her and Zoe guessed that they'd put a lid on the crate. A second later there was the sound of hammering. Zoe could feel the drug taking its full effect upon her now as she felt herself falling asleep against her will. She twisted her tethered body to try to find a more comfortable position and talked to herself in her mind, reminding herself of her mission and trying to formulate a plan for escape. The heat in the crate was getting worse though and the air was so close and dry it was hard to breathe. She felt the strength slipping from her limbs and then her body slid down until her head was resting on the floor of the crate. She groaned through the ball gag and tried to lift her cheek from the wooden floor of the crate but she had no strength left. Just got to keep awake, she told herself, mustn't fall asleep. Mustn't fall...
'Miss Farquerson, or should we say Miss Chambers, was definitely seen leaving the plane but none of the passengers we've checked with recall seeing her after customs,' the matronly lady swept into the office, a pile of books and papers under one arm, a mobile phone in her other hand.
The gentleman behind the broad, mahogany desk nodded. He took a final glance at the letter before him and just above where was typed, "Edgar R M Sutherland, Director of Foreign Operations, British Secret Service", he signed his name and carefully placed the cap back on his fountain pen.
'I had Stewart speak with their airport security,' she said, 'according to them she passed customs and was last seen getting into one of those unlicensed taxis.'
The woman sat herself down in one of the deep leather armchairs and gazed out of the window. Taxis, buses and cars formed a gridlock stretching down Falmers Street as far as Whitehall.
'Do you believe them?' she asked.
The man snorted contemptuously, standing up from his desk. He straightened his tie and shook his head. He glanced at the dossier in front of him.
'Of course not! It's pretty obvious what's happened. Stonefield has shopped her to the El-Saram security service. That bloody man has been nothing but trouble. Pity we can't just have the SAS grab him and get him on a Hercules back home where he can face the music!'
'Well at least you now know that he is out there, Director.'
'That was the whole idea behind sending the Farquerson girl out. She was the bait. We guessed he was out there, skulking around as some shadowy advisor to the King. This pretty much proves it. Stonefield obviously couldn't resist the chance to get even with the girl for her part in his downfall over here.'
'But we still can't prove he's there and now we've lost the girl,' observed the woman.
'Well, Miles reckons that the El-Saram Internal Security is holding her. Chances are Stonefield is watching her being tortured by Internal Security and he'll love every minute of it. All we need to do is find the girl and we should find Stonefield into the bargain. Miles thinks she's still in the airport and he's got the place under surveillance. Of course we can't be seen to have anything to do with what happens, so Miles has employed a local mercenary to steal her back.'
'And meantime; hope that the poor girl isn't suffering too much,' said the woman. 'What if she talks?'
'All the information and names we've fed her about the underground pro-democracy movement out there is a load of nonsense.'
'But that won't stop her being tortured.'
'Obviously. And I dare say when they find out she's been leading them up the garden path they'll not be too amused either. Let's hope by then we've got her back or else she'll really be in for a rough ride!'
The man glanced down at a file of papers lying open beside the letter. The topmost sheet gave a concise resume of the career of Zoe Farquerson to date. After three years as a desk girl with the British Secret Service she had been moved to SES. This unit, established quite recently, comprised a handful of young women from the ranks of the Secret Service who were all extremely attractive. They were trained to act under cover, seducing then extracting secrets from enemies of the state. Hence SES: Seduce and Extract Secrets. Attached to the sheet by a paperclip was a photograph of the young woman. He stared at the picture for a moment then flicked over the top sheet. More information about her followed, along with another photograph. In the first the petite, dark haired girl was shown demurely posing in a smart jacket and skirt. In the second photo she was wearing a tight mini-skirt and a skimpy dark blue top that exposed her arms and her stomach. The photo was drenched in sunlight and the girl was grinning, tilting her head to one side, pretending to be eating a bunch of grapes which she held one handed above her head. The Ambassador scrutinized the photograph more closely. The girl's long, dark hair was tousled about her face and bare shoulders. Grape juice was smeared down over her neck and collarbone. The look she was giving whoever had taken the photograph was provocative, to say the least. Her skirt was so short it barely covered the swell of her rump and her generous breasts jutted against the tight material of her skimpy top. Some notes in the dossier told him the photo had been taken by a boyfriend whilst she was on holiday a few years earlier. The file listed all her boyfriends and by twenty-six she had clocked up dozens. Zoe Farquerson was evidently an active young girl!
'Perhaps you'll excuse me Mrs. MacDonald, I have some notes to work on for tomorrow's meeting with the PM's Secretary.'
'Of course Director. I'll not put any calls through to you until you give me the all clear.'
Edgar Sutherland waited until the woman had shut the door behind her then he opened a desk drawer, took out a videotape and slid it into the player. Pressing a button on the remote on his desk, a panel of fake bookshelves slid away and a television screen flickered into life. He glanced again at the notes written on the tape box. "Surveillance film: SES: agent Farquerson/ Rodney Stonefield seduction. Hidden camera, Belgravia Hotel, Suite 17."
On the television screen the girl entered a large, lavishly furnished bedroom followed closely by a suited man in his late middle age. Edgar Sutherland fast-forwarded the tape, which he'd already watched all the way through once. Champagne, kisses and fondling led to the couple undressing each other and the girl, still in her skimpy underwear, encouraging the man to lie down on the bed. It took only a moment with fast-forwarding the tape. Even at real speed, it had happened quickly, mused Sutherland, as he watched his young agent persuading the man to lie still for her. Sutherland kept his thumb over the fast forward while the girl could be seen coaxing the man to allow her to tie him up. She used the sashes from two towelling bathrobes to tie his hands to the opposite corners of the bedhead and then she used her stockings to bind his ankles to the bottom corners of the four-poster. At this point Sutherland cancelled the fast-forward and pressed the play button.
The young girl looked down thoughtfully at the man tied spread-eagled on the bed before her. She wore delicate, ivory silk panties with a matching camisole that hung down over her large but firm young breasts and left her taut stomach exposed. Her long fingernails, varnished a deep burgundy, skimmed slowly over the man's thighs and he sighed in frustrated anticipation as her fingertips glided around his erect cock but carefully avoided touching him. Her dark eyes sparkled with amusement at his condition. She had on dark purple lipstick and her sensual, bow shaped lips smiled with satisfaction as she watched him pulling ineffectually against the restraints she'd fastened a few moments earlier around his wrists and ankles.
'Okay, now tell me your computer password,' the girl smiled, licking her tongue thoughtfully across her glossy lower lip as she watched the man struggling to free himself.
'I can't tell you that, come on darling, untie me, there's a good girl.'
'Oh, I think you can. With a little encouragement.'
The girl stood up and shimmied out of her silk panties. She picked up the man's discarded tie, forced her panties into his mouth and finished gagging him with the tie.
'When you decide you want to tell me your computer password, just nod. Okay?'
Settling herself between the man's spread-eagled legs she caressed his balls, then removing the ribbon from her ponytail she slipped the silk around his scrotal sac and pulled it tight. The man groaned through the gag, shaking his head in protest, his arms and legs pulling urgently against the bonds that held him stretched out on the bed.
The girl wrapped the silk ribbon several more times around his scrotal sac, drawing it tighter each time until his balls hung swollen and purple below his engorged cock.
'Now, are you ready to tell me your password?' she asked, idly toying with his balls and encouraging them to try to swell further and strain against the ribbon that was bound tightly around them. The man shook his head negatively. With a disappointed sigh the girl delicately picked up the trailing ends of the ribbon. She drew the remaining silk a few more times around his swollen balls, pulling the ends ruthlessly tight each time.
The man groaned, jerking his arms angrily in a futile effort to free himself. He looked up imploringly at her, his engorged cock twitching as she stroked his trussed balls.
Sutherland watched the girl slide from the bed and walk through to the shower. He fast-forwarded the film until the girl emerged, rubbing her damp hair with a towel. Glancing across to where the man lay tethered, she smiled. His cock was now semi-flaccid but his balls hung trussed like overripe figs, swollen and dark purple. When she asked him if he was now ready to tell her his password, he urgently nodded his agreement.
Zoe woke to find herself lying on a bed of cushions in a small, circular room of bare stone walls, with wooden floor and ceiling. There were no doors but an open flight of spiralling stone steps in one corner, going both up and down. Resting her head back on the silk pillows she closed her eyes. After all she had been through she was in no rush to venture from where she lay. Besides, her arms were still bound behind her back and her ankles fastened close against each other. At least they had removed the gag and blindfold.
She tentatively felt behind her and traced her fingers gingerly over her soft curves where she had been beaten so mercilessly. Her fingertips felt between her buttocks and she shivered, remembering how it had felt to have the Guard's Captain forcibly take her. To her surprise and shame, during her ordeal in the interrogation room she'd become deeply aroused. Being tied up and subjected to what they had put her through had given her a feeling of heady sexual gratification and as this truth settled in her mind her cheeks flushed with a mixture of guilt and excitement. As she'd been strapped down on the bench at the beginning she'd felt terrified. The mixture they'd put into her bowels had made the tears stream down her cheeks but something about being subjected even to that, she had found arousing. Her pussy had become wet and aching as the woman had whipped her and by the time the Arab had fucked her, her body was aching for it and she'd come repeatedly while he was using her.
Zoe dozed for a while and tried to think through her situation. The chances were the British Secret Service was actively looking for her. The question was, where was she and more importantly, what could she expect to be subjected to next? She'd survived a few hours of interrogation but had eventually been forced into admitting who she was. Now she knew they would continue to question her until they had answers to all their questions.
After perhaps half an hour of wondering what lay in store for her, she could lie still no longer. Swinging her legs together, she slid herself from the bed of cushions and with her legs constricted by the two anklecuffs that were clipped together she shuffled her way across the room towards an arched window.
She blinked, dazzled by the brightness of the shimmering blueness that confronted her eyes. Sunlight danced over water and a cloudless sky met the water without interruption from land. The sea and sky, two shades of stunning blue swept in every direction. The only sound seemed to be a lonely gull and far below her the sound of the sea. By gingerly leaning over the window edge a little, she could see waves pounding relentlessly on rocks below. She was in a tower, perched atop jagged cliffs that plunged hundreds of feet to glistening black rocks, around which the seawater foamed, throwing waves high into the air.
'So you're awake.'
The unexpected voice behind her startled her and Zoe glanced over her shoulder, shuffling her tied feet to turn around as quickly as she could manage without risking losing her balance and falling over. She stared at the man who stood regarding her.
'Sir Rodney Stonefield! I thought as much. But how did you get here?'
'The King of El-Saram kindly invited me to become one of his foreign advisors. I can't tell you how delighted I was to find out that you were coming here.'
'I would be lying if I said it was a pleasure,' Zoe answered tersely.
'Well let me say it has been a pleasure seeing how Major Mosafa has dealt with you so far.'
'So you were in the interrogation room when I was blindfolded!'
'The plan, to be honest with you, was for you to never know. Just in case you escaped. Now you are here though, it doesn't matter in the slightest. There's no escape for you from here and I felt it would enhance my pleasure if you knew that I was behind the torment and suffering that you will soon be experiencing. You see Miss Farquerson, what you went through yesterday was just a little taste of what lies in store for you and you will be kept here for my amusement until I grow bored with you.'
'Stonefield, if I ever get my hands on you...'
'Most unlikely, I think. Most unlikely indeed!'
Zoe backed away as best she was able to as the man approached her.
'Come now, there's nowhere for you to run to. Or should I say, to hobble to,' the man laughed scornfully, reached out and caught Zoe by her hair.
'Let me go!'
The man tightened his hold and encouraged her to shuffle back towards the bed.
'There's a good girl. Time for you to lie down and have a rest. Just a little further, that's it. Now down you go.'
Zoe was pushed forwards and she fell face first onto the bed of cushions. Lifting her head she was in time to see the man open a drawer on a tall chest that was placed against the wall and when he turned back to her she saw he was holding a riding crop.
'You know, it's difficult to know where to begin,' the man grinned. 'Mosafa has loaned me his private tower. We're miles from anywhere so we'll not be disturbed. He's kindly provided me with two very willing young lads to serve me. The tower is marvellously well equipped because he has a penchant for bringing young girls here for questioning. Well, to be frank, sometimes he doesn't even bother to question them. He's happy enough just to hear them crying and begging. Your sweet young body's going to receive a lot of attention from now on. They say a good thrashing and a little pain gives the sort of pleasure most girls are really after! Well, Zoe, my dear, you're going to learn to love the taste of the whip on your delicate bare skin. From now on you'll be fed a diet of pleasure and pain.'
Zoe made an attempt to slide away from the man across the bed but he caught her by the short chain that held her anklecuffs together. She grunted in discomfort as she was pulled backwards by the legs and the man brought the riding crop down hard against her thighs.
'Thought you were going somewhere?' the man laughed and landed another blow with the crop over her buttocks making her yelp with pain. Her eyes smarting from the blow, Zoe gasped in discomfort as her hair was caught and her head jerked back sharply. The riding crop was then held under her chin forcing her head back and making her splutter as she begged with the man.
'Please... don't hurt me... I'll do whatever you want... please...'
'Of course you'll do whatever I want. You haven't any choice!'
The hard leather under her chin was withdrawn abruptly and Zoe's face fell back into the pillows. Before she could lift her head the crop was pressing against the back of her neck and she found herself struggling to even turn her head.
'Can't breathe!' Zoe gasped, twisting her head urgently to pull her face clear of the smothering cushion under her.
'Raoul! Sayed!' the man shouted.
Zoe lay gasping as the man released the pressure of the crop against the back of her neck. She could hear the sound of footsteps ascending the stone stairs and glancing over her shoulder a moment later she saw two lean Arab youths appear through the open archway of the spiral stairs.
'Take the girl down to the interrogation room and give her a drink, she's probably thirsty after her spell in the crate.'
Zoe was seized by the two youths and lifted bodily from the bed by her arms. They quickly carried her down two flights of spiral stairs into a basement that had no windows and was lit by two exposed light bulbs that dangled from a wire across the ceiling. The room was humid, the walls rough stone and the floor sand. On one wall there were iron rings from which leather cords dangled. In the middle of the room there was an X shaped bench, each limb of which was draped with leather straps. She glimpsed a rough wooden table strewn with various devices that made her stomach churn as the two youths dragged her across the room to a narrow, circular well.
She was dropped to the floor and one of the youths lowered a wooden bucket into the well and after a dull splash, he pulled the bucket back up by the old rope that was tied to its handle.
'Tie her face down on the bench then make sure she has plenty to drink, for a westerner it's easy to suffer dehydration in the desert,' Stonefield ordered, as he leant nonchalantly in the archway at the bottom of the stairs. Immediately in response Zoe was seized by the arms and dragged over to the bench. One of the youths sat astride her waist once they'd forced her face down on the bench and the other quickly unfastened her wristcuffs and the belt around her arms.
'You've no idea how much I've been looking forward to this,' laughed Stonefield, scornfully, as Zoe had her arms dragged forwards and stretched along the wooden extensions of the bench. Leather cords that were fastened to the bench were quickly threaded through the D-rings on the wristcuffs and pulled tight then knotted fast.
With both her arms tied, the two Arab youths set to work to secure her legs. Zoe grunted with discomfort as her left leg was pulled down as far as possible then a cord slipped through the leather cuff around her ankle, drawn tight and knotted. Her right leg was then treated in similar fashion so that she was bound like a starfish on the wooden bench, her arms and legs widely spread and held forcibly stretched. Zoe felt a wave of panic rising over her and she was unable to help herself glancing in the direction of the table. Remembering the items of torture strewn over it, a shiver of fear ran down her body and although she knew escape was impossible she found she was twisting her arms and pulling with her legs in a frantic bid to get free.
'How does it feel, Miss Farquerson? Do you enjoy feeling this vulnerable? Does it excite you being so helpless?'
Zoe pulled urgently against the restraints and could feel her arm and legs muscles straining but she couldn't get herself free. Momentarily exhausted from struggling, she lay, recovering her breath, her slim body moist and shiny now with sweat.
'You look quite a picture, you know. Struggle all you want my dear, it's amusing to watch... most amusing.'
'You bastard... just wait...' Zoe panted, renewing her efforts to pull her hands free from the leather cuffs around her wrists. Twisting her arms and arching her head back so she could see her tethered limbs, she strained to extricate her hands from the cuffs but the broad leather was buckled too tightly around her wrists and she was forced to concede defeat. She felt her abductor stroke down her body, his hand travelling from her neck, over her back and down to the soft cheeks of her buttocks.
'Give her a drink Raoul, she looks thirsty.'
One of the youths grasped her hair and drew her head back and the other insinuated a wedge of rubber into her mouth to stop her closing her jaws. Zoe shook her head in alarm as a she saw a small tube dangling before her face. The hands holding her tightened their grasp and a second later the soft rubber was slipped inside her mouth. She looked up wide-eyed with panic as the other end of the tube was placed into bucket they'd drawn from the well.
Zoe spluttered and coughed as water ran down her throat. The youths watched her, their eyes bright with excitement and arousal as they made her drink. The water quickly filling her belly and still she had to gulp it down as fast as she could or she'd choke. Soon she was trying to shake her head to tell them to stop but there was no let up. When she tried to protest vocally the water ran down her windpipe making her cough and she quickly gave up and went back to obediently swallowing. Please, please, enough, enough... no more... she silently begged. Her stomach ached now it felt so full. At last she heard the Englishman give the order for them to stop and the tube was withdrawn from her throat and the rubber wedge prized free.
'Now she's had enough to drink I think she's ready for us to begin the first game. Sayed, get the riding crop and soften her up,' ordered the Englishman.
The older of the two youths eagerly darted across to the table and snatched up a leather riding crop. Zoe guessed he could be no more than twenty. He was tall and sinewy and like his friend dressed only in cut off jeans, an old T-shirt and sandals. He flashed Zoe a broad grin then without a moment's hesitation he brought the riding crop down hard over her thigh.
'Uhhh!'
Zoe flinched; jerking against the tight leather around her wrists and ankles as the crop hit her again on the other thigh.
'The inside of her thighs, Sayed, but not too hard, not yet anyway. Let her get used to the feel of the whip first,' ordered Stonefield.
The youth obeyed and Zoe suffered two more strokes, one on each leg.
'Higher up Sayed, close to her pert little arse.'
Zoe grunted as the crop hit her several more times.
'Give her six more on each leg. Make all the blows close together on the inside of her thighs.'
'Ow! Stop! Please...' Zoe cried out shaking her head as a dozen blows rained down unremittingly on her thighs.
'How are we feeling now, Miss Farquerson?'
Zoe lifted her head and blinking back the tears, looked up defiantly at the man who stood over her.
'You better make the most of this,' she warned, 'when I get out of here, you haven't...'
'Get out of here?' laughed Stonefield scornfully. 'Dear girl, you will only leave this tower when I've become bored with watching you suffer. Then I shall sell you for a decent price to one of the desert nomad chieftains and you'll spend the rest of your days as a sex slave. You can forget about escape or your old life. You have no life now, except as a pretty young body to suffer for the gratification of whoever owns you. You've obviously enjoyed your time as an interrogator for the Secret Service; now its time for you to learn how it feels to be on the receiving end! Sayed, it's time to see how sensitive her thighs are now. She if she's ready for a gentle massage.'
Zoe glanced over her shoulder, through her tousled hair, as the youth discarded the crop and swung his body easily over hers, so he could sit down astride the small of her back. Zoe felt his hands settle over her thighs and then his thumbs began pressing deeply into the delicate inside of her thighs.
'Ooww! No! Stop, it hurts! Please!' she begged, the tears now streaming down her cheeks as his thumbs pressed into the muscles of her legs where the crop had repeatedly hit her.
'I think her legs need more attention,' mused Stonefield, 'Give her a dozen more strokes. Then after that we can try something more interesting!'
Zoe cried out as the crop struck her thigh again.
'That's it Sayed, get those shapely leg muscles of hers nice and soft. After all she doesn't need to be able to stand up for what we've got planned for her!'
'No! Stop... enough!' she begged as blow upon blow rained down on her thighs. The sharp cracks of leather on flesh and her answering shrieks echoed round the chamber. It seemed as if her inner thighs were on fire, white heat flaring up into her crotch and even as each blast of pain struck her she was aware of her pussy lips swelling and her vagina fluttering and moistening.
When the beating was finally over she was left too dazed, confused and weak to pay any attention to what was about to happen next.
'I think that's enough for now,' said Stonefield, 'you took your first thrashing well, Miss Farquerson; now it's time for your reward. Get her harnessed Sayed.'
Zoe pleaded in vain as one of the youths gathered up her long hair and held it with both hands while the other youth straddled her back, a long leather cord in his hands. Zoe choked back the tears as the youth holding her hair then spilt it into two handfuls and began to plait her hair, while his accomplice wove the leather cord into each twist and fold of hair.
When they had finished, the younger one danced around the bench with a childish satisfaction at what they'd accomplished. His slightly older companion, sat astride Zoe's back and pulled experimentally on the leather cord. Zoe grunted in discomfort as her head was drawn progressively further back.
'Well done lads, a nicely harnessed little filly ready to be given her first proper ride,' laughed Stonefield. 'Before we let her loose, I'd slip the dental gag into her pretty little mouth, just in case she tries to bite. Not all English girls appreciate being taken up the arse.'
'You can't do this to me!' blurted Zoe, as she heard with dismay what was to befall her next.
'Oh, we can, Miss Farquerson... and I think if you allow yourself, you may even find you enjoy the experience,' laughed the Englishman
Zoe swore and snarled in protest like a wild animal caught in a trap but she was unable to stop them carrying out their orders. Her head was reined back by one youth pulling on the cord woven into her hair then the other youth coaxed the sprung steel of the gag into her mouth. When he released his grip Zoe felt the metal bars expand in her mouth, forcing her jaws acutely wide. She was left with her mouth forced open; the pencil thick rolled steel forming an open circle and extending in two U-shaped lengths down each side of her mouth.
Zoe gurgled frantically for them to take it out, certain that she couldn't bear it a second longer as the sensation made her want to choke. The gag though made her pleading incoherent and brought only smiles of amusement from her tormentors.
'What a satisfying sound that is,' commented Stonefield dryly, 'a bitch on heat who's so excited she can't even get her words of encouragement out properly.'
Zoe looked imploringly at the man standing over her as he nodded affirmatively to one of the youths, who picked up a broad, leather collar from the table.
The leather was wrapped around her slim neck and the buckles fastened tight. The collar, which was very broad, pressed against her collarbone and up under her chin. She saw the gleam of excitement in the eyes of the young man as he secured the collar around her. She'd never had anal sex before and she knew she was about to experience no gentle introduction. The two youths were obviously madly aroused and the thought of them taking her in turn made her stomach churn and the sweat pour from her body. Part of her desperately wanted to escape what was about to befall her now but another part of her was eager with nervous expectation. Of course, she'd never admit to it, but the thought of being taken like this stirred some primal desire in her.
'Okay Sayed, clip her wristcuffs to the collar.'
Zoe grunted through the gag as each of her arms were unfastened from the bench in turn, then clipped to the steel rings fastened at either side of the collar.
'If I was you I'd give her a few more strokes with the crop just to soften her up a bit more for you.'
'UHH! UHH!'
Zoe cried out as the leather crop came down hard again on her thighs which already felt so tender the slightest touch made her eyes smart with tears.
'Just a few more strokes Zoe then we're going to free you from the bench. I'm going to go upstairs for some mint tea and a rest. You'll be welcome to join me, if you would like to. Or of course if you'd rather, you can stay here and let the lads take it in turns to shaft that pert little rump of yours.'
'UHH! UHH!'
The beating continued; a rhythmic pounding over her thighs and buttocks, until her whole body felt awash with the pain.
'If you don't follow me upstairs, I'll assume you want to stay and play with the lads. Doubtless a randy little bitch like you likes nothing better. Sayed, untie her and let her make her choice,' ordered Stonefield casually as he turned and walked away from the bench. Zoe watched him disappear up the spiral stone stairs as the cords that held her anklecuffs to the bench were unknotted and removed.
Zoe tried unsuccessfully to use the fingers of one hand to unfasten the bulldog clip that held her other wrist clasped against the leather collar. Her wrists though were secured at either side of the collar and it was impossible to reach behind her neck with her fingers far enough to work the catch on the clip free. Glancing up she saw that Stonefield had disappeared from sight. The stone stairs were no more than fifteen feet away so she slid herself from the bench determined at least make an effort to follow the man.
With her first step her leg buckled under her, her thigh unable to take any weight after its treatment with the riding crop. Collapsing onto the sand floor Zoe had to put her elbows out to break her fall as protect her face. Winded, her thighs aching and her legs feeling like jelly, she tried to haul herself back to her feet.
'Where you think you going, English girl?'
A sharp jerk on the cord that was plaited into her hair dragged her backwards off balance and she fell again into the sand as a voice called down the open stairs after her.
'Are you coming then Miss Farquerson, or have the lads persuaded you to stay?'
Zoe looked up at the Arab youths that were circling her. What would it be like, being anally fucked, she wondered, hauling herself to her feet and lurching towards to the stairs. After two stumbling steps her legs gave from under her again and she dropped to her knees. She remembered a girlfriend saying how she had got to enjoy it, surely then... a sharp pull on the cord in her hair sent her falling backwards, momentarily obliterating her thoughts as she came down onto the sand floor with a hard bump.
'Time for English girl to have good fuck!'
'Nuhh...' Zoe groaned in protest as she was dragged away from the stairs on her elbows and knees by the older youth pulling the cords that were knotted in her hair. The other, she saw, had already discarded his cut-off jeans and was grinning madly as he watched her being led like a dog on a leash by his friend.
'Bend down now bitch. Open legs!'
Her thighs felt so delicate she could offer no resistance as hands easily drew her legs apart. For a moment the two young lads hesitated and kneeling between them Zoe looked up, panting and wild faced as she waited expectantly for what she knew would happen next. She felt a hand touch between her legs and fingers sliding wetly over her sex and she realized that she was moist with arousal. She looked up, suddenly hungry eyed and stared at the youth silently encouraging him. The youth grinned and slid one finger deep inside her. Zoe sighed with pleasure, pushing herself back against his hand.
As one of them held her head down the other lifted her hips back and up and she felt his shaft grind up against her pussy. Without any hesitation the youth rammed his tool into her, then with her body impaled upon his shaft, he slid his hand between the globes of her arse, found her anus with his thumb and forced it remorselessly into her, making her howl in response.
'English girl do this before?'
Zoe shook her head negatively, as she felt the youth's thumb working around her rectum forcing the muscle to soften.
'You learn to enjoy this. We will do this now everyday with you!'
The thought poured molten through her imagination and Zoe sighed through the gag as she came, her orgasm taking her by surprise by its suddenness and its intensity. She gasped through the steel ring that held her jaws forcibly open as the youth's cock was pulled quickly out of her pussy. Without pause, the thumb was withdrawn from her rectum and she felt the head of his shaft pressing against her anus. With one determined and assured thrust the youth sunk the length of his shaft into her body.
'Uhhh...'
'English bitch like it, yes?'
Zoe gasped as the cock was withdrawn then rammed into her again with even more determination. To her shame she felt her body responding, the heat quickly building again within her as she remained knelt and bent over, her buttocks obediently thrust high for the youth's pleasure.
'English bitch soft now. You like it. Raoul gives you good time. Real good time!'
'Uuhh... uhh...'
Zoe thrust her arse backwards, squirming as the cock sank into her again. She closed her eyes, panting hard through the gag as a fresh climax built inside her then erupted with an intensity that left her too dazed to care what happened next. She sank her cheek down into the sand, felt hands grasping her hips, felt her anus being filled again and again. A long shuddering sigh escaped her and closing her eyes she focused on the sensation of having her slim body being anally fucked and she wondered dreamily why she'd never consented to trying it before.