Bought and Sold(15)

Mosafa finished the call and slid the phone into his jacket pocket. He glanced inside the RangeRover.

The young English girl lay stretched along the back seat, her ankles and wrists bound with hemp rope, adhesive tape across her mouth. She was still sleeping from the injection he'd administered. She'd looked as slim and vulnerable as a gazelle he thought, as two of his guards had carried her to his car slung under a pole by the ropes around her wrists and ankles. She was still lying in the same position as they'd left her, naked except for her bra. She had magnificent breasts, the Major thought, staring down at the sleeping girl. High, full and firm, her nipples and areoles were clearly visible under the fine white fabric. He imagined her chained against the wall of his tower as he stroked her breasts, her young body writhing obligingly, arms and legs twisting and struggling as he stroked her, hardening her nipples in preparation for them being clamped. He looked at her sleeping face, her slender features looked calm now but soon her eyes would be wide with distress, her generous mouth would be twisted as she howled and cried, begging him to stop. That was the beauty of working on the girls at the tower. Miles from anywhere there was no need to gag them and their breathless crying was music to his ears. He would have this bitch begging him for mercy soon enough, he smiled to himself, dragging his eyes reluctantly from the girl's prone body.

Looking around the lifeless sand dunes for reassurance that he was alone he yawned and stretched. It was good to be out of that suffocating airport. He glanced back down at the punctured tyre and wondered how the Englishman was enjoying the British agent? He smiled, recalling the look of terror on her face as she had been smothered by the chloroform soaked handkerchief brandished by the Guards Captain. Mosafa had watched through the observation window as the young woman had been subdued. Her slim body had tensed, writhing for a moment before she'd lost consciousness. His cock had pressed, aching with arousal, inside his trousers as he'd watched her being dragged across to the interrogation bench by the two female guards. It hadn't taken long to make her confess to who she really was. The Guards Captain was good at his job, he had to admit. A bit heavy handed perhaps, a bit over zealous, but he got results. Mosafa himself was content to work more slowly, more subtly. He imagined the Guards Captain enjoying the girl after he'd left him with her in the airport interrogation room. Doubtless he would have taken her, as Mosafa had given him permission. He himself had strolled around to his favourite coffee shop, taken some coffee and had a smoke then he had visited a woman he used for massage when he wished to completely relax. The talented Arab girl had diligently massaged every inch of his body with almond scented oil then she had obligingly sucked his cock with her skilled and generous mouth until he'd come. All in all, up until now, the day had been unfolding quite pleasantly.

The sun was now a ball of orange shimmering as it began to dip over the hills on the horizon. As soon as it went down the temperature would drop quickly. Mosafa swung around, a noise making him jump. Deciding it was nothing, perhaps just an animal behind the nearest ridge, he relaxed. Then, in the last rays of the sun, something glinted, catching his eye. Maybe forty metres behind the vehicle he saw that the light was catching a dozen shining small items that littered the track. He picked one up and turned it in his hand. Crude metal, spiked and twisted, each one no larger than a coin, but each one effective enough to bring his RangeRover to an abrupt halt.

Mosafa's left hand dropped to his hip and he slid the catch free on the leather holster of his 9mm automatic. He pulled the pistol out, released the safety catch and drew the barrel casing back so the first bullet in the magazine was loaded into the chamber. Slowly releasing the casing he lightened his hold on the weapon, aware that he was clutching it unnecessarily tightly. Perhaps with the increased rebel activity it would have been prudent for him to have some bodyguards, he thought, chastising himself mildly, now he found himself stranded and alone. Of course he was anxious to keep his tower's location a closely guarded secret. It wouldn't do if everyone got to hear about what he used the place for. Still, maybe the time had come for him to keep some loyal men close by him as guards. The two young lads who served him were to be trusted and they were keen of course, but they were no soldiers.

He walked briskly back to the RangeRover, slid his pistol back into its holster and opened the boot. Reaching inside he snatched up a pair of binoculars with one hand, with the other a compact machine-gun. He then quickly shut the boot and climbed back into the front seat. Closing the door he glanced at the inside of the modified vehicle. The doors had been refitted with bulletproof panels and the windows were even supposedly now bullet proof. He reached inside the glove compartment for a paper bag of Turkish delight. Hearing a muffled sigh from behind him he looked over his shoulder to see the young English girl looking around her in dazed confusion. Just nineteen years old, he mused, smiling to himself as he watched her testing her restraints. She soon gave up struggling, realising it was hopeless. What a tender looking young thing, he thought. Yet interestingly her sex had been pierced and ringed. She was obviously not as sweet and innocent as she looked. He had found her deliciously tight when he'd sunk his cock into her slender body. How pleasant it was going to be to have her for his amusement.











Zoe had lost all track of time; her suffering seemed to be continuous now. She lay, exhausted and strapped down over the bench; the butt plug was back inside her anus again and widely inflated. One of the youths had started to whip her with a riding crop. Every time the crop struck her, she involuntarily jerked, making the weights dangling from the clamps fastened to her sex pull her labia that little bit more. They weren't whipping her hard, but enough to make her rump sting and worse it kept making her jerk which kept up the tormenting stretching of her swollen labia. She couldn't bear it anymore but the expanded ball of rubber in her mouth silenced her objection, the straps held her submissively still and the punishment continued relentlessly.

She closed her eyes and tried to shut her mind off from her torment. She had been in some tight situations before during her time with the SES, she would survive this and she would get her revenge upon Sir Rodney Stonefield, she vowed to herself as the riding crop struck her tender rump yet again. Through the haze of pain that washed over her tethered body, she lifted her head weakly as she heard the man who had brought her all this torment descend the stone steps.

'So how are you getting on with my young assistants, Miss Farquerson? Any objections to how they're treating you?'

Zoe looked up at the Englishman as he stood regarding her with obvious satisfaction at her distress. In her mind she formed words to express her contempt for him, but she was unable to even form the words in her mouth; her tongue remained held down and her jaws forced wide by the expanded rubber ball that filled her mouth. All she could do was to glare with unconcealed loathing but another blow from the riding crop turned her glare to a grimace of discomfort. The man watching her laughed softly then turned his attention to the two young men.

'Raoul, Sayed, Major Mosafa wants you to go and assist him. His RangeRover is stuck a few miles down the track. You had better hurry and take some weapons with you, he sounded rather worried.'

The two youths dashed obediently up the stairs, leaving Zoe alone with Sir Rodney who strolled around the bench where she lay strapped down.

'What have we here?' Sir Rodney asked, tracing his fingertip around the butt plug where it disappeared inside her.

'My, my, the boys have done well in encouraging your sex to flower to its full ripeness, haven't they?'

Zoe flinched as she felt the man touch the distended lips of her vulva, then she shook her head in objection, sighing then groaning as he pulled experimentally on the tiny weighted chains that dangled from the clamps that were tight around her delicate folds of flesh.

'You see Miss Farquerson, once I have become bored with your company here, you will be sold to one of the desert nomad chieftains. They appreciate white girls, especially ones as pretty as you.'

The man stroked her vulva, making Zoe squirm.

'They will pay handsomely for the right sort of girl. They want obedience and they like a girl who is physically well endowed but like their thoroughbred horses they want sleek lines, no spare fat.'

Zoe shivered as the man ran his hands down her ribs.

'Major Mosafa tells me they will pay generously for a girl who displays her sex well.'

Zoe jerked as the dangling weights were tapped again.

'Luscious lips and generous breasts make for an easy sale. By the time I've finished with you, you'll fetch a good price. Do your future prospects excite you, Miss Farquerson? Surely a life spent in the sun, being used for sex each day is a more satisfying prospect for such a randy young bitch as you rather than working in London for her Majesty's Government?' As Stonefield talked, he flicked on the switch which made the butt plug vibrate. Zoe squirmed and writhed. Stonefield turned the switch to maximum and she groaned through the gag as the intense vibrations deep inside her aching rear quickly brought her to another climax. The man standing over her laughed softly.

Zoe thought about what the man was saying. The butt plug was still vibrating deep inside her anus and along with the constant pull being exerted on her labia, it was enough for Zoe to find that she was being brought to another orgasm even as the one she'd just had was subsiding. What would it be like to be like this everyday, she wondered, then she shook her head in alarm at the prospect. How could she even contemplate being a sex slave! She had to escape! God, she'd been a prisoner for only a day or two and she was already beginning to resign herself to the existence! Swearing through the gag she stared angrily at the leather cuffs that bound her wrists. If she could only manage to twist her hands out from under the leather...