When she regained consciousness she found herself lying on her back on the bench. There was the cool feel of leather tight around her wrists and ankles. Her arms were stretched out above her head and her legs were widely spread. Trying to move she realised, with dismay, that her arms and legs were held in place by taut straps clipped to the leather cuffs around her ankles and wrists.
'Are the British not looking for her yet, Major?'
'There was no-one waiting to meet her in the airport and she had a room booked at a hotel. The official story is that she was last seen leaving the airport by taxi. The British can hardly accuse us of lying can they? They're far too polite for that.'
Zoe felt her heart sink as she listened to the voices. Another man was in the room talking with the first.
'She's awake, look.'
'So Miss Farquerson, you are with us again. I trust you enjoyed your little sleep?'
'My name is Zara Chambers... I don't know who you think I am, but I'm just...'
'Please, spare us your fanciful story,' the man she'd not seen before laughed mildly. He was an Arab, short and rotund and wearing a western suit.
'Really, you have to believe me, I'm a journalist, my name's Chambers, haven't you seen my passport?' Zoe lifted her head from the bench so that she could get a clearer view of the man.
'We know the bitch is lying,' growled the other man, who wore the uniform of a Captain in the National Guard, 'let's see how long she takes to change her story.'
'Please... listen, you've got to believe me, my name is Zara Chambers.'
'I think it's time we help you remember your true name,' said the Arab in the western suit, 'tell your women to start on her.'
'Certainly Major. It will be a pleasure,' said the Guards Captain, 'the bitch will soon be begging to tell us everything she knows.'
As if in a nightmare from which she couldn't wake Zoe listened to the sound of the women's boots cross the stone floor.
'Please... I don't know anything...'
'Why are you looking so anxious, little English girl?' the small Arab asked.
The older of the two female guards reached out and stroked Zoe's hair clear of her face.
'You have to believe me... my name's Chambers...'
'There is still time for you to be spared suffering.'
As the man spoke, the woman stroked her hand down Zoe's chest, circling her breasts with her fingers. Zoe's breathing was coming in short urgent gasps as she glanced anxiously about her.
'Get your hands off me! You can't do this! You won't get away with this. I'm a British citizen, if you...'
'Spare us please your protestations,' the Arab in the suit smiled down at her with scarcely contained amusement, 'Firstly, let us say that you have been stopped as a suspect for drugs trafficking. Now, we are going to conduct a body search. Hardly something your government can object to, especially when carried out by two women. I assure you that the Captain and myself would not dream of touching your body. So Miss Chambers that is all that is happening. Of course, if you wish to admit to us that Chambers is not your name and that you are a British spy, then I should look favourably upon such a voluntary admission.'
'My name's Chambers and I haven't done anything wrong!'
'So you say, but I am afraid we are still obliged and entitled to search you. Do you know where some people hide drugs? I am afraid that in case you have swallowed some we will have to give you, umm, what is the English word... it escapes me for the moment. Let me put it this way, we will put a mixture into your bowels to make them empty.'
'No, you can't do this...' Zoe blurted.
'I am so sorry for you, I have been told that it can be a little uncomfortable,' the man smiled with blatant insincerity.
'Please... let me go...' Zoe looked around frantically from one face to another. The short balding Arab in the creased suit looked down at her, his sham smile of apology turning to a malicious grin.
'Of course, occasionally the mixture that is fed into the bowels through the anus is not correctly measured. It has to be hot to encourage the body to expel what it is holding. Sometimes, the girls mixing the spices for the paste we use put too much of something in and the effects can be quite distressing. Really quite distressing...'
'You bastard! If you torture me, then...'
'Good heavens! Who suggested such a thing? No, no, my dear girl. This is a civilised country which welcomes English tourists. All I said was we will have to search your body for drugs.'
'Damn you, I know what you're telling me!' Zoe jerked her arms against the leather wristcuffs and pulled angrily with her legs against the restraints.
'Dear girl, whatever we do to you, your body won't show any marks. And of course it would be your word against ours. Now, spare yourself what is about to happen, admit to us you are a British spy. I am Major Mosafa of the El-Saram Internal Security Service. I know who you are. Enough of this game, the time has come for you to co-operate.'
'No...' Zoe shook her head in denial.
The Guards Captain nodded to the two female guards.
'Go ahead, it's time to persuade the bitch to talk.'
There was an agonising pause, then fingers felt between her buttocks, making Zoe try to jerk away but the leather, closely fastened around her ankles, restrained her.
'What are you doing? Please... don't... I don't know anything1/4believe me, please... no...' Zoe craned her head back as she felt hands drawing apart the globes of her buttocks. The older woman saw her watching her work and she smiled with satisfaction.
'Come now, lie still... there's nothing you can do to stop us,' said the Major.
The younger female guard meshed her fingers into Zoe's long hair and pushed her head firmly back down.
'Uhh... no... please...'
Fingers were smearing something greasy against her anus. Instinctively Zoe tried pulling her legs together but the leather straps around her ankles kept them spread. She gave a whimper of protest as one fingertip began working the greasy substance into her rectum. Squirming and pulling against the leather cuffs that kept her arms held above her head, she gave an anguished groan as her sphincter muscle was coaxed with grease to admit the passage first of one finger then of several fingers together.
'Are you sure you don't want to co-operate?' the Major asked.
The fingers meshed in her hair dragged Zoe's head up, forcing her to see two short lengths of hose now held by the other woman.
'Go to hell!' hissed Zoe through clenched teeth.
The Major gave a nod for the women to continue. Zoe grunted as her head was pulled back down.
'Do you know what's going to happen to you English girl?' asked the older woman, 'This tube will be put deep inside you; then I shall force a paste through the tube into your delicate young body. It will give you much discomfort at first; then after a short time you'll be begging me to stop the torture. The heat inside you will get worse until you can't stand it and then you will answer our questions to save yourself.'
'She is right,' said Mosafa. 'Spare yourself this, co-operate with us now.'
'Like I just said,' Zoe hissed. 'Go to hell!'
'You will not be feeling so brave in a few moments' time,' the woman laughed softly.
Zoe screwed her eyes shut, whimpering as fingertips were exchanged for the cold hard plastic of the tube. She lay, her cheeks burning with shame, unable to believe what was happening to her as the tube was slowly forced up inside her.
'Listen to me, admit who you are and I can still stop this happening to you,' Mosafa offered.
'My name's Chambers...' Zoe gasped, twisting her head against the fingers that meshed into her hair and held her still.
'We're going to put a mixture through the tube, a paste that is mixed with hot spices it will make your bowels urgently want to empty... it is not a pleasurable sensation. After a few minutes you will feel as if you are burning up... you will be howling with discomfort. You only need to admit to me who you are...'
'Go to hell...'
Mosafa gave a reproving tut-tut then nodded to the woman to continue. For a few moments Zoe felt nothing as the woman fed the mixture into the tube, then satisfied that there was plenty of the mixture in the tube, she inserted a slightly smaller tube with a sealed end into the first and began pushing it after the mixture. She exchanged a knowing glance with her Captain who smiled with satisfaction.
The mixture was potently hot and as it emptied into her bowels Zoe threw back her head, crying out for them to stop. The woman drew out both tubes.
'Uhh... no... can't... bear... it...'
The woman, ignoring her pleading, took a rubber butt plug and smiling sadistically, pushed it firmly into Zoe's anus, ramming it home until the flared base was pressed firmly against her struggling body.
'Please, stop...' Zoe gasped. She could feel the sweat already pouring off her tethered body and the burning sensation inside her was already unbearable.
Pulling on black leather gloves the older woman moved to the head of the bench alongside the younger woman. Zoe looked up imploringly at the two women, shaking her head and sighing as the terrible sensation in her body got worse and worse. The older woman smiled down apologetically and stroked Zoe's perspiration soaked face.
'Hurts... please make it stop!' she begged, unable stand anymore, 'Please! No more!' she howled, begging then screaming for them to stop. The fingers meshed in her tousled hair tightened their grip, holding her head still and the older woman placed a gloved hand over her mouth and held it there silencing her. The burning sensation inside her wasn't getting any worse now and Zoe wondered what else they would do to her to try to make her talk. As she writhed and twisted against the restraints that held her down on the bench she stared up at her interrogators.