Bought and Sold Page 4

  '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 fo
rcing 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.