Vanessa lifted her head weakly and looked at the man sitting in the front of the RangeRover. She was desperate for a drink and felt giddily weak, not having eaten since the in-flight meal which seemed ages ago now. She gave a groan to attract the man's attention and when he swung around she looked beseechingly at him.
Having spent a summer as a submissive model being passed from one master to another, Vanessa had quickly learnt that anger and a bad temper got her nowhere. She'd been attracted to the idea of modelling nude and when she'd seen an advert for a model to work for a painter who specialised in submissive females she'd jumped at the chance. But what had started as modelling bound and gagged had quickly developed into something far beyond what her imagination had prepared her for. At first she'd rebelled, trying to convince herself that she hated being treated in such a way. Soon enough though she became a willing victim and she'd quickly learnt how to behave to ensure that she pleased her masters. Vanessa now looked hopefully at the man and moaned faintly through the gag.
'Shut up and lie still!'
She let her head slump back down. The man was gazing at her now, watching the rise and fall of her breasts. She twisted her wrists experimentally against the rope. It had been tied in a figure of eight around her wrists, which she knew was the most effective way to prevent escape. She had lost track of how many times she'd been tied up but the truth was that wriggling against her bonds had become a curious comfort for her. After all, once she was bound and helpless there was nothing she could do to protect herself. She was effectively absolved from any responsibility for what happened to her from then on.
Once, after flirting at a party, she had allowed herself to be coaxed into a car full of young men. They'd taken her back to a flat and no sooner was the door locked behind them than Vanessa found herself dragged across a bed and forcibly stripped. They had taken turns to screw her and since she'd been gagged and held down, she couldn't stop them. She'd struggled obligingly but the truth was that she'd loved it and ever since then, the feel of being forcefully restrained had made her pussy wet with eager anticipation.
She heard another vehicle approaching and lifted her head so she could glance out of the window. A Mercedes saloon drew up in a cloud of dust and two young Arabs sprang from the car brandishing the type of machine guns that every terrorist and freedom fighter around the world seems to wave. The man in the front seat glanced back at her. She looked sorrowfully at him. Since he was obviously responsible for her abduction she had to somehow ingratiate herself with him. Whilst she was bound and gagged that was a bit difficult but at least she could look pathetically vulnerable and dutifully docile. She hoped that sooner or later he'd give her the chance to suck him off. She'd become accomplished at that and all men seemed to respond favourably to a girl who gave them a good blowjob. However the man left her in the car and she settled back down to wait the next turn of events.
She had been bought her return flight to El-Saram by Sheikh Auda bin Yasel, who had invited her to spend some time with him. He had told her he owned a villa and a yacht and that in El-Saram at this time of year she could be assured of beautifully hot days. Vanessa had jumped at the chance of a free holiday, the opportunity to top up the tan she'd acquired in southern Italy as well as the chance of some more sex with the Sheikh. She had a naturally slightly olive complexion, her mother being French. Her father though was Swedish and she had his blonde hair and blue eyes. With her slim waist and generous breasts she knew and loved the fact that she drew lascivious gazes from men wherever she went. She gazed down at her body stretched the length of the back seat of the vehicle. The white rope wrapped tightly around her ankles and wrists contrasted pleasingly with her deeply tanned skin. She could see the faint gleam of metal through the soft thatch of her pussy hair. She had suffered having her clit pierced against her will. How she had howled when she'd been subjected to that! The pain was short lived though, then she'd been forced to watch, with a curious sort of detached feeling as the young women who were tormenting her had slid a fine silver ring through her clit and fastened it. It wasn't long before she'd become attached to her new piece of body jewellery and the feeling of it being pulled or weighted made her feel deliciously vulnerable.
Craning her head she glanced up to satisfy her curiosity as she felt the vehicle move. They were changing the tyre; he must have had a puncture, which was why they'd stopped in the middle of nowhere. It was quickly growing dark now but it took only ten minutes before they were ready to drive off again. The man climbed back in, seeming more at ease now, Vanessa thought. A moment later and they were driving quickly down the desert track, the Mercedes following behind them. Vanessa laid back and pondered this latest turn of events in her life. Modelling had led her into the world of bondage and submission. She'd been taken to Italy and now here she was in the desert somewhere in the Middle East. She assumed she was still in El-Saram, but of course she couldn't be certain. How long had she been drugged, she wondered, surely only for a few hours? At last civilisation and help couldn't be too far away? She twisted her body, lifting herself up as the RangeRover drew to a halt. It was dark outside, but she could see the faint yellow gleam of lights from one lone building. When the man opened the door the cool air against her bare skin made her shiver.
The two Arab youths appeared and dragged her legs first out of the vehicle. A pole was slid under the rope binding her ankles and wrists and they lifted her easily, taking the weight from the pole across their shoulders. Hanging upside down she could see that she was being carried to a narrow tower of stone and somewhere in the distance she could hear the sound of the sea, waves breaking on rocks, a distant but relentless pounding noise.
The heavy door to the tower, framed by an archway of flaking stone was opened as they approached, light flooding out. Vanessa was gazing down at the sand and saw a scorpion suddenly caught by the light freeze for a second before it scuttled away into the shadows. The two young men carried her quickly over the threshold, the man who had abducted her following close at heel. The door was swung to and closed with a resounding thud.
'So what have we here?'
Vanessa looked up to see a slim, late middle aged man in creased beige, white shirt and coloured silk cravat looking down curiously at her.
'She's called Vanessa. She's English. Nineteen. An interesting acquisition,' said the Arab as he gestured for the two young men to take her down a narrow flight of twisting stone steps.
'So what do you make of this mystery phone call?' asked the Englishman.
'I've no idea, but it spells trouble, I'm certain,' the Arab answered with a dismissive shrug.
'Raoul,' he called down the stairs, 'give her a wash in the well then bring her up and put her in my bed. Give her a drink and some food but keep her tied.'
The youth leading Vanessa called back up the stairs.
'Yes Major. We take good care of her. Food and water and wash, yes, very good.'
Vanessa was carried down into a cool and sand floored basement. Removed from the pole she gave a sigh of relief. The pain of being hung upside down by the arms and legs was something she could only suffer for so long... She glanced around her at the room, shuddering as she took in the chains dangling from the walls and the stomach churning equipment scattered across one table. Then she saw the second table. Through the adhesive tape that was secured across her mouth she gave a gasp of surprise. Strapped down over a cross-shaped bench was a naked young woman.
Vanessa sat obediently still as a rope was tied around the one that already bound her ankles.
'Time for your wash.'
'You enjoy.'
'You ready for wash, yes?'
Vanessa looked at the two youths questioning her. Suddenly the gleam in their eyes made her deeply unsettled. She glanced back at the other girl. There was something protruding from her backside and Vanessa could guess what it was. The poor bitch had been left with a butt plug in her. She was wondering for how long she'd been strapped down over the bench like that when the girl lifted her head and looked at them.
She had long dark hair and a beautiful olive complexion but her mouth was forced cruelly wide and filled by a ball gag. Her eyes were moist with tears and her hair was tousled over her perspiration soaked features. Vanessa could see faint marks across her exposed rump where she must have been whipped. Her thighs were spread wide and strapped with broad belts that were tight around her legs. Poor thing, Vanessa thought, wondering to herself how long the girl had been a prisoner here.
'Time for your wash,' one of the youths announced cheerfully.
Vanessa gave a grunt of discomfort as she was dragged by her legs across the sand to one corner of the basement. There was a circular low wall of stones and before Vanessa knew what was happening she was being lowered head first down the well shaft by the rope tied to her ankles. She felt cold water soaking her hair and she lifted her head up in alarm. She felt herself revolving slowly, and then her shoulders went under the water. A second later and the water came over her head and a few seconds after that she was completely submerged. Almost immediately though she felt herself being lifted up again. Shaking with cold and fear she was hauled right up out of the well and into the waiting hands of the two youths who were laughing at her discomfort. With a bar of soap the younger of the two lads quickly washed her from head to toe whilst the other unfastened and discarded her bra then stroked her breasts appreciatively. Once covered in lather from her hair to her feet she was then lowered back into the icy well water. Having been rinsed she was hauled up again and she was then carried back up the narrow stairs. Vanessa saw the other girl was watching her and they exchanged sympathetic glances.
Auda moved stealthily around the wall, brushing the flaking old masonry with his left shoulder. There was no way in except for the one door. Solid heavy wood, studded and recessed into the stone arch it would not be easier to force an entry that way. He circled the tower once more, surveying the windows. There were none on the ground floor, only slim arrow slits, too narrow to admit a person. On the first and second floors the windows were larger but they were all shuttered except for two which were barred with iron rods. Auda stepped back and looked up at the battlements of the roof. Perhaps that was the best way?
Drawing his long cloak around him he retreated back the way he had come, trudging slowly up the sand dune to where Basil sat waiting.
'What's the verdict chief?'
'Difficult,' Auda slumped down and accepted a tin mug of steaming coffee from his servant.
Basil had appeared at the airport a quarter of an hour after he'd summoned him. He had an old, open top jeep, the back of which was piled with supplies. The young man was flustered and out of breath and spent the next ten minutes explaining how hard it was to do what had been expected of him in so short a space of time. Auda had not seen the Major leave the airport and was beginning to think he had somehow slipped past him when he saw a RangeRover come speeding around the corner of a distant storage building and race across the deserted tarmac. As the vehicle paused at the security gate he recognised Mosafa at the wheel, seemingly alone. Guessing he probably had the girl stashed in the boot, Auda waited until the RangeRover was a good distance down the road before he gestured for Basil to follow.
Since it was late in the afternoon and the roads were busy with people heading home from their work it wasn't too hard to follow the Major's vehicle without becoming obtrusive. As usual the few traffic lights in the city weren't working and the police performing traffic duty, in their starched white uniforms and peaked caps, looked the part but were actually creating more confusion with their meaningless arm waving. Auda smiled to himself. Despite the modern high-rise buildings and the newly constructed roads of the capital, El-Saram was still medieval at heart. The King, a despot and a fool in Auda's opinion, had imported from the western world what he imagined his country needed but generally it was useless and served only as window dressing to give the right image for tourists, whose presence and money he welcomed. The police, for example, looked good in their immaculate white uniforms and smiled at every tourist or businessman but they served only to distract the critical eye from the real police of El-Saram: the secret police, who wore no uniform but wielded all the power.
Auda had settled back, allowing Basil to drive. Following the Major's RangeRover they had weaved their way around cyclists, camels and clapped out old buses until they left the city behind them. Auda unfolded and surveyed an old map of the area from when it had been a British colonial province. The King had banned all maps and map-making except for ones that he authorised, maps that carefully omitted his military bases; the inland oases and old towns of the hinterland that the King wanted to become forgotten. These places were still controlled by local Sheikhs and if he could reduce their trade he would reduce their wealth. Turn his opponents into beggars and how could they stop him, was his reasoning.
The perfect new tarmac swept across the sand with bold confidence for five kilometres to an inlet where there was the main oil-refinery. After that the road, which followed the coast, was nothing more than gravel. Basil allowed the RangeRover to increase its lead and the dust that it threw up acted as an efficient smoke screen enabling them to follow unseen. After a few more kilometres the main road swung inland but the RangeRover carried on down an old track that was marked on Auda's map but seemed to lead nowhere except out to a peninsula of land that thrust out into the ocean for several kilometres. Auda thought his map showed nothing but then scrutinising the map more closely he saw that almost hidden amongst the zigzag ink lines representing the cliffs was the tiny outline of a tower marked on the cliffs at the furthest point of the peninsula. The map showed that the track took a circuitous route to the tower and that if they could get the jeep along a wadi, a dried out streambed, they would effect a short cut and rejoin the track half way to the tower.
So the diligent British Empire mapmakers had even come here, Auda thought to himself, staring down the sand dune into the dark. The faint lights of the tower were the only things as far as the eye could see to show the mark of man on the wild landscape. Apart from the distant sound of the sea grinding over the rocks and against the cliffs, there was an eerie silence. The tower, he guessed must have been built as a lighthouse or a watchtower many centuries ago. And now it was being used by a Major of the secret police as a dungeon for helpless foreign girls to be held in and tortured for his amusement.
The short cut had worked and Auda had scattered a few tyre spikes across the track where they rejoined it. Basil had suggested that they ambush the Major but Auda had merely wanted to lure out from the tower whoever was in there. They had then driven the jeep across country to the tower and arrived in time to watch two young men hurry from the tower and drive a Mercedes down the track at reckless speed. Auda had then hoped to find the tower unguarded but he hadn't banked on it being so impregnable. He was quietly walking around the high stone walls when he heard a voice from inside. Even with one man still in it there was no way they could force an entry quickly enough to surprise him. So it was that they'd settled back to watch the arrival of the Major and had seen Vanessa being carried into the tower by his two servants.
The sound of footsteps made Zoe blink back the tiredness that had stolen over her. How long had it been since she'd seen the two Arab brothers bring that other girl down here? She was losing all track of time and in the cellar there was no natural light, which made matters worse. Where the hell were the SES or even the SAS! She needed rescuing, surely the British Secret Service must have worked out that something had gone wrong with her mission? She looked up as she felt a hand settle over her rump. Stonefield had left the butt plug embedded in her and hadn't deflated it so her anus was kept acutely stretched. At least he'd switched the thing off so that it wasn't vibrating.
'So how are we feeling Miss Farquerson? Nice and comfortable?'
Zoe felt the man stroke his hand down her leg, feeling the tightness of the strap around her thigh. It was the Arab again and from the tone of his voice and his smug smile she guessed he was well pleased with himself. No doubt because he'd just kidnapped another poor girl. She wondered who she was. She looked very young and was, Zoe grudgingly admitted, outrageously sexy. She had the sort of busty figure that would make her good money as a pin up model. No wonder Major Mosafa had abducted her.
'Would you like a rest, you don't look very comfortable where you are? Finding it difficult to sleep are we?'
Zoe glowered at the man as he taunted her. What did he think! Strapped down over a hard wooden bench, her arms held outstretched and her legs spread wide, of course she was in agony! Just wait until she got even with him! She would have him begging for mercy.
'Poor thing, you look rather distressed.'
Zoe sighed with relief as she felt the ball gag being deflated. Coughing and spluttering she shook her head as the man unfastened the strap and prized the ball from her aching jaws.
'Does that feel better?'
'Uhhh...mmm...'Zoe nodded appreciatively, her mouth too stiff to speak.
'I have brought you some food, here, eat.'
The man held a bowl containing rice mixed with small pieces of meat and slices of apricot and dates in front of her head.
'Aren't you going to untie my hands?' Zoe asked despondently.
'No, of course not! You can learn to eat like this or you can go hungry. The choice is yours.'
'You bastard!'
'Temper, temper.' the man shook a reproving finger at her. 'Very well, you can learn the hard way.'
Zoe swallowed to relieve the dryness in her throat and bit back the tears that pricked her eyes as the man took the bowl of food and placed it on the floor below her head where she could see it but of course could not reach it.'
'Oh, no... this isn't fair...please...' she begged.
'My dear girl, you have to learn that you are the author of your own distress. You have to realise that you are a slave now. You do as you are told and are grateful to the hand that feeds you. Now, let's try again.'
This time the man held out a bowl of water for her. Zoe didn't hesitate, straining her head forwards she gratefully drank from the bowl, lapping up the water as quickly as she could in case it was taken away before she'd drunk enough.
'You see, it's not that difficult is it?' the Arab laughed and when Zoe lifted her head back having drunk her fill he tipped what was left over her head. She gasped; shaking her head as the cool water ran through her hair and down over her shoulders.
'Please can I have some food now?' Zoe begged, looking pleadingly at the man standing before her.
'Raoul!' the man gave shout then walked around her, looking critically at her.
'Perhaps you need to lose a little more weight?'
'No!' Zoe protested, 'I'm slim enough, if you starve me I'll just look skinny.'
'You called, master.'
'Come here Raoul, stand in front of the girl, we have some more training for her.'
'English bitch look so sad,' laughed the youth. 'You have to learn to enjoy your new life. It's all you have to look forward to now!'
Zoe tried to pull her head away as the youth caught hold of her tousled and soaked hair.
'Let me go!'
'Stop tormenting her, Raoul,' ordered the Arab.
The youth who'd been lifting her head by her hair released her and stood back, grinning.
'So you want to be fed then?' Mosafa smiled condescendingly at her and Zoe nodded, looking hopefully up at the man who she realised held her completely in his power. Maybe now he had the other girl to play with he wouldn't care if he lost her. She quickly decided that whatever he was thinking, she'd get nowhere by going hungry.
'Please feed me, please...'she gazed hopefully up at him, smiling to show him how sincere she was.
'After you've performed your duties my dear girl. Raoul, you know what to do.'
Zoe watched as without any further encouragement the youth unzipped his cut-off jeans and drew out his cock, stepping close in front of Zoe and taking hold of her hair again with both hands.
'After you've swallowed everything that Raoul has to give you then I'll allow you to eat.'
Zoe stared at the semi-flaccid penis then glanced down at the bowl of food.
'Come on English girl...come on, you want it anyway!' Raoul laughed.
Zoe forced down the urge to swear at him. Choosing to do this with a guy she'd decided to sleep with was one thing but having to do it for some young brat who'd been torturing her...
'Come on, time to drink!' the youth laughed and tightened his hold on her hair, encouraging her mouth towards his cock.
Zoe closed her lips around the tip of his shaft and flicked her tongue against the glans. The youth grunted appreciatively. Perhaps, if she gave him a good time she could win his sympathy, she thought. She gave the tip of his shaft a few generous licks with her tongue and felt it twitch, the shaft thickening, the youth sighing contentedly.
Of course she enjoyed a good fuck and never tired of letting men get into her pants but the truth was what she found deeply arousing was taking control of a man. She guessed that was why she'd joined the SES: to have the chance to bring men under her heel. She glanced at the youth's cock, now fully erect as she bathed it with long strokes of her tongue. Having to do this was alright, but how much more satisfying it was to have some guy helpless and begging her to stop while she tormented him. Of course, deep down they loved it, she was certain, even when they were in pain. It was just interesting to see how much pain they could take. Now though, she was being subjected to whatever this man Mosafa chose to put her through. She could see her wrists bound with the leather cuffs and feel her legs helplessly spread and tied. She had to suffer the butt plug being in her delicate, young body; the inflated rubber forcing her arse so wide she ached. And now she had to suffer having this youth force his cock in her mouth. She felt a piquant ache in her pussy, as she became clearly aware of her situation. Though she hated to admit it, even being treated like this she found satisfying.
Zoe strained forwards a little further until she could lick the youth's scrotum and she managed to encourage one of his balls with her tongue towards her lips. Curling her tongue around the little stone of flesh she sucked it into her mouth and partially closed her teeth, trapping it in her mouth. She felt the fingers in her hair tighten in alarm. Don't worry I won't hurt you, she thought, although if it was Mosafa or Stonefield I might feel differently. She sucked hard on the testicle and the youth groaned loudly. You like that don't you; she smiled to herself and gently tugged the testicle pulling the sac taut where it joined the base of his cock. The youth gave a shuddering sigh. Is that too good? Too intense? She sucked harder, warming to her job and heard the young man give a deep groan. She released the testicle from her mouth and drew back. The cock was ramrod hard and dribbling viscous liquid from its shiny tip. The youth looked dreamily down at her, stroking his fingers through her hair now rather than clutching her forcibly. She glanced sideways at Mosafa who was watching intently. She could see the telltale bulge in his trousers and she smiled with smug satisfaction.
'Don't you wish you were in his place, Major?' she asked tauntingly.
The man was about to answer when there was a shout of alarm from upstairs. For a second the Major and the youth both seemed rooted to the spot. Then came the sound of gunfire. The youth looked wide-eyed with alarm. For a second the Major hesitated then he barked out an order in Arabic. Zoe saw the youth dash across the room and vault up the stairs.
'You don't think you've perhaps got a problem?' Zoe asked sarcastically, momentarily forgetting the fact that she was helpless, her mind now full of an imagined rescue bid by a crack team of British agents.
'Shut up, bitch!' the Major walked across to where she lay strapped down and his gaze swept over her naked and bound body. Zoe saw his eyes fall on the pump dangling between her legs and a second later he had snatched it up, grinning sadistically. There came another shout, or more of a cry, from upstairs which, she thought sounded like Raoul. There was another burst of machine gun fire and then a single muffled shot, scarcely audible and an agonised cry, which again sounded like Raoul.
The Major glanced in the direction of the stairs then looked around the room. Zoe could see that he had discarded his belt with its gun holster and he was obviously cursing the fact that he had no weapon to hand to defend himself with.
'Aren't you going to go and help your servants?' Zoe taunted.
The Major growled something in Arabic and squeezed the pump in his hand.
'No!' Zoe shook her head, her body writhing then bucking as the already well inflated butt plug expanded even more inside her. Shouting for him to stop, she didn't hear the footsteps on the stairs and neither did her tormentor.
'Stop right there Major!'
Zoe lifted her head back and saw a tall man, dressed in black with what she thought at first glance was the protective leather clothing of a biker. Her impression was reinforced by the fact that he wore what looked like a biker's crash helmet, black with a black glass built in visor. Then she realised from her SES training that what she was looking at was state of the art body armour.
'Who the hell are you?' Mosafa demanded.
'Put that down and move away from the girl.'
The man raised a revolver, which was fitted with a silencer. Zoe heaved a sigh of relief as the Major let go of the pump and stepped away from the bench.
'Uhh... please help me... hurts...' Zoe gasped.
The man advanced into the room as he heard someone behind him.
'Hey chief, can I come down?'
'Be my guest Basil.'
Zoe watched a handsome dark young man descend the stairs with agile grace. He was dressed in frayed jeans and a sleeveless olive green combat jacket.
'What next chief?' the young man glanced around the room, raising an eyebrow when he saw Zoe strapped down over the bench. He had an automatic pistol jammed in the waist of his jeans and slung from a belt about his waist a large knife. A sheathed dagger was strapped to one of his boots and in one hand he held what Zoe recognised as an Uzi 9mm machine pistol. These were definitely not SAS, she told herself, unable to take her gaze off the lean but well muscled young man who'd just appeared.
'Release the girl, I'll watch the Major.'
'No sooner said than done.'
Zoe smiled to herself at the young man's cheerful, easygoing manner. He seemed to be treating this as no more of a day's work than a barman shaking cocktails.
'Please, can't take anymore... take it out...' Zoe looked imploringly at her rescuer who stroked one hand reassuringly down her flank as he took in her condition.
'Relax, we're gonna take good care of you.'
Zoe felt the butt plug abruptly deflate.
'Can you force it out?'
'Too tired... help me...' Zoe sighed, happy for the young man to look after her. She closed her eyes as she felt him prise the rubber plug from her anus. A second later and he was releasing the straps that held her thighs spread.
A few moments later and Zoe found herself slumped on the sand floor, nursing her aching but freed wrists. The man in black had waited in silence whilst she had been freed and now he ordered the Major to lie on his back on the same bench to which Zoe had been strapped down.
'Who are you? What's happened to the others? He had two servants and there's an Englishman with him as well. They brought another girl... who are you? Uh, my legs feel like jelly, I can't stand!' Zoe found herself stumbling then she sank to her knees.
'Basil, I'm going to see if Vanessa is okay. Finish securing the Major to the bench then help Miss Farquerson upstairs.'
'You know my name! You have come to rescue me! Oh thank heavens!' Zoe felt tears of relief prick her eyes and a surge of joy well up inside her. At last, her nightmare was over! She watched as the young man finished securing the leather cuffs around the Major's outstretched arms and legs.
'Okay Miss, can I help you or can you walk?'
'I can walk,' Zoe smiled gratefully and hauled herself to her feet. She stared down with unconcealed loathing at the Major of the secret police who had made her last few days such a misery. She wondered what had happened to Sir Rodney. Perhaps, he'd been shot, maybe killed. She wondered fleetingly about the two young Arabs. She imagined them firing away madly at the man in black, his body armour absorbing all their fire. Had he gunned them down? Whoever the British Secret Service had sent to rescue her they had chosen someone obviously equipped for the task.
'Let's go then.'
'I'll follow you up, I just want a few moments first with the Major.'
The youth looked at the man tied spread-eagled over the cross-shaped bench.
'Sure thing, I'll wait for you upstairs.'
He grinned at Zoe who smiled back then waited until he'd left and she was alone with the Major. She went across to the table of accessories and scanned them. She could feel the Major's gaze on her back. He had this coming to him, she told herself, picking up the items that she wanted.
'Listen, Miss Farquerson, let me make a deal with you...'
'Be quiet, there's a good boy.'
'You won't get out of this country unless... no... nuhh...'
She felt him shaking his head defiantly but he couldn't stop her from forcing the smooth metal rods of the gag into his mouth. She adjusted the tension of the rods, increasing it until slender shiny metal was forcing his jaws widely apart.
She watched him shaking his head in objection, his arms pulling aggressively but ineffectually against the leather cuffs around his wrists. Zoe took a deep breath to settle herself and she looked down at the man who was helpless before her. She unhurriedly unbuttoned his trousers and drew them and his pants half way down his thighs. His cock was thickening as she watched.
'Feeling excited are we, Major?' she smiled down at him, watching, not even having to touch him as his cock became more and more engorged with blood, swelling and hardening until she could see the veins standing out down its length and the head becoming a rich purple colour.
'Now, I wonder if you can guess what happens next?'
'Leave him. It's time to go!'
Zoe swung around, glowering at the man who had silently descended the stairs and stood watching her. He had discarded the visored helmet and she found herself meeting the stern gaze of an Arab. There was something about his bearing that was compulsively commanding. Zoe guessed that he must have noble blood, his manner suggested he had been born and bred to giving orders and commanding men.
'I want my revenge on him!' Zoe pointed to the man spread-eagled on the bench.
'You sound like the immature daughter of some petty tribesman. Perhaps you have already forgotten who you are?'
'I know perfectly well who I am! What about if you tell me who you are?' Zoe demanded indignantly.
'I haven't time to stand here her engaging in idle chatter with some ungrateful girl. Follow me.'
'I'm not ungrateful. But before we leave, can't you give me ten minutes with this bastard, now...'
'I won't tell you again Miss Farquerson, follow me, before I lose my patience.'
Swearing under her breath Zoe left the cellar, hauling herself with arching arms on wobbly legs up the stairs. The door to the tower stood open and the cool night air spilt into the hallway. The stonework was scarred by bullet holes and on the wall at the foot of the spiral stairs leading upwards there was a smear of blood that made Zoe shudder.
'I'm sorry; I don't know your name, but thank you for rescuing me. I presume the British Government sent you?'
'My name is Sheikh Auda bin Yasel. You are right in your assumption, I am being paid by the British Secret Service to recover you.'
'But, he would have come to rescue me anyway,' came a girl's voice from around the curve of the spiral stairs.
The blonde girl that she'd seen earlier came into view. She grinned with pleasure as she saw the man named Auda and gave Zoe only a cursory glance.
'You have no idea what I've been through since arriving in your beastly country!'
Zoe watched as the blonde girl jumped eagerly down the last steps into the arms of the Sheikh. She had on a pair of cut-off jeans, which Zoe guessed she must have appropriated from one of the Arab youths but otherwise she was naked.
'So how are you feeling after your little ordeal?' she turned to Zoe and smiled sweetly, eyeing her up and down critically, while pressing her own body up against the man's. 'So who is she Auda? Surely you didn't really come here to rescue her?'
'She's a British spy who got herself caught by the El-Saram secret police. Mind you, the Major of the secret police who abducted both of you is more interested in furthering his own aims than serving his masters.'
'And what were his aims?' the girl asked.
'He would have sold you to one of the desert chieftains as a slave for his harem. First he would have broken your will and through relentless discipline made you submit willingly to whatever was demanded of you.'
'What's happened to Stonefield?' Zoe asked.
'The Englishman? He's alive.'
'He should be taken to Britain to face charges,' Zoe announced.
The Sheikh gave a derisory laugh, shaking his head.
'He's none of my concern. I'm leaving him here. Without transport he faces a long walk to find help and in the meantime I'll let the rebel movement know about who they might find in this tower if they pay it a visit.'
'So what happens now Auda?' the girl asked expectantly.
'The British have paid me to rescue her. I suppose I should now deliver her, as expected.'
The young blonde girl looked thoughtfully at Zoe then slowly licked her lips before reaching forward and whispering in the man's ear. Zoe felt a knot of apprehension tighten in her stomach. The man gave the merest conspiratorial nod then announced that they needed to make swift preparations to leave the tower.
Zoe wondered how long it would be before she would be back in civilisation as she was ushered quickly out of the tower to a waiting jeep. She found the desert at night was bitterly cold and she was unbelievably grateful when the young girl appeared and tossed her a handful of clothes.
'I found these in the tower. I guess they belonged to some of his earlier victims.'
'Thanks,' Zoe smiled at the young girl, who was now wearing a T-shirt and some low boots as well as the cut-off jeans.
'I hope these fit,' said Zoe pulling on a short red skirt that she'd been given.
'These boots are a bit big for me,' the other girl admitted, 'but at least they're better than nothing. There was an old chest full of clothes. I wonder how many girls that bastard had abducted?'
'You were lucky your friend arrived so soon. I couldn't have taken much more of the treatment I'd been given,' Zoe confessed, wriggling to get into the skirt then pulling on the T-shirt she'd been given. The top was too small and dug under her armpits and squashed her breasts. She tugged on the red Lycra but it barely stretched half way down her stomach. Whoever the girl had been who had originally owned it must have been really skinny, she thought. She glanced at the girl sitting on the jeep bonnet, wondering about what had bought her out to El-Saram and what her relationship was with the man named Auda. Smoothing the tight skirt down over her hips she watched the two men leaving the tower. And seeing the younger man jam something into the hinge of the open door.
'Get down behind the jeep for cover!'
The men jogged quickly across to where the girls were waiting and they barely had time to duck behind the vehicle before the stick of dynamite jammed in the door exploded, blowing it off its hinges and sending a shower of splinters into the air.
The Sheikh stood up and smiled with satisfaction.
'Well done Basil. Right then, blow all the tyres on the Merc' and lose the keys. We'll take the Major's RangeRover and the jeep. You drive the jeep; I'll drive the RangeRover. The girls can come with me, at least they'll be warmer in the RangeRover.'
'How long will it take us to get back to the capital?' Zoe asked.
The man exchanged glances with the blonde girl and Zoe sensed that they were holding something back from her.
'Go on Auda, there's nothing to stop you,' the blonde girl blurted out excitedly, her blue eyes glinting with a mischievous eagerness.
'What the hell have you two been discussing?' Zoe demanded angrily.
The man gave an enigmatic smile and opened the RangeRover, silently suggesting that Zoe climbed into the car.
'No, hang on a minute; I want a reassurance from you that we're going straight to the British Embassy. You told me that you were paid to free me.'
'That is true and I have already been well paid. Vanessa here has pointed out that it might be more rewarding for me if I sold you on the open market.'
'What the hell are you talking about?' Zoe demanded, backing away from the man defensively.
'The truth is that what the British Government values you at is a lot less than I could get for you as a harem slave here in El-Saram. Or indeed if I sold you on the international market, you would fetch an even more attractive price.'
'You unscrupulous bastard!'
Zoe turned and fled, driven by the one immediate thought of escape. Should she try to get to the tower and find a weapon or should she try to run into the dark and hope to escape under cover of dark. At least she was free, for the moment!
She hadn't covered more than a few yards though when she was knocked sideways by a rugby tackle from the Sheikh's servant. Using her training from the SES she lashed out at the young man catching him by surprise with the ferocity of her attack. A sharp blow from the edge of her hand knocked him backwards and she scrambled back to her feet. She felt his hand grasp her ankle and she kicked out with her other foot. The youth rolled sideways to evade her attempted kick and clasping her ankle with both hands he pulled back fiercely throwing her off balance.
'Uhh...'
Zoe landed in the sand, momentarily winded. She twisted her body, stumbling to her hands and knees only to feel a hand clutch the waistband of her skirt and jerk her backwards.
'Let me go!'
Before she could recover herself the young man swung his weight over her chest then pinned both her arms with his hands. Zoe was about to kick out at him when she felt someone drop their weight onto her legs.
'I've got her legs,' the blonde girl laughed, 'Auda, bring us a rope!'
Zoe struggled frantically but with two people pinning her down her efforts were futile. She looked up to see the sheikh come striding towards where she lay held down, a coil of rope in his hand.
'You can't do this to me! Damn you! Let me go!'
She felt the rope being tied around her ankles, her legs being pulled together and she thrashed them furiously but the girl had her weight on them whilst the man bound the rope tighter and tighter until her ankles were secured together. She was then rolled onto her chest and her arms were pulled behind her back. The men held her arms still while the blonde girl bound her wrists together.
'Tie another rope around her arms above her elbows, Vanessa,' Auda ordered.
Zoe grunted with the discomfort of having her arms drawn close behind her back as the girl wrapped a rope in a figure of eight around her arms, binding them above the elbows as instructed.
'You'll never get away with this!' Zoe hissed angrily.
'Who's going to stop me?' the man asked arrogantly. 'The British Government believe you're held prisoner by the El-Saram secret police. What will they think when I say that I couldn't find you? How can they prove otherwise?'
Zoe sighed with dismay as the men lifted her onto their shoulders and carried her across to the RangeRover. A moment later she was lying along the back seat and the engine roared into life. From the front passenger seat the blonde girl turned and looked smugly at her, her generous bow shaped lips curved into a sadistic smile, her large blue eyes glittering with mischief.