by Tessa Valmur
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 ge
nerous 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 th
e 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.
