CHAPTER 1

      What punishment has been recommended for you girl?” the Sheik’s deep voice boomed
down on her.  It was laden with sadistic and imperious creepiness making her shudder in
dread. And she, a mature married Englishwoman in her thirties was being addressed by the
swine as a ‘girl,’ but she knew that she daren’t dwell on such matters which paled into
insignificance compared to her predicament.
	“S-six strokes on-on my b-bare b-buttocks, Sir,” Kathy’s managed eventually in a
stumbling whisper.  Her head pounded in fear and shame at having to repeat the
unaccustomed words and having to do so whilst kneeling bound and naked.  She was utterly
helpless at the feet of the Arabic monster who she knew could force her to say anything;
to do anything he wished to her in fact. 
	There was a heart-stopping silence during which she could only hear her own laboured
breathing. The brute was presumably considering her ‘crime’ and deliberately prolonging
her anguish.
      
      Seeking temporary solace from the terrible reality of her predicament her fevered
mind darted back to earlier just this same day as if it were another world, another time.
She, her husband, daughter and work-friends were on holiday in the obscure and small state
within Arabia.  It was a free holiday in recognition of her husband’s company, of which he
was a project manager, finishing a contract for a water pipeline in this country.  She too
worked part-time in the company as a senior pa, along with her friends and she felt rather
good that they had been so rewarded for their team effort.  In complete innocence they had
entered the temple which the driver had discovered in their mini-coach. How were they to
know that they were trespassing?  The driver appeared to have no knowledge of trouble at
that site and neither did an older couple who had also booked their roaming tour, much
against the protestations of the driver who would have left without them had it not been
for Kathy and her friends insisting he wait.  
      Once inside behind closed doors they had immediately been made to feel like guilty
criminals.  Shouted at by whistle-blowing officials who were quickly joined by armed
guards they were herded at gunpoint into a back office.  
      Kathy hardly understood one in ten words of the rant and raving they were subjected
to.  She had just felt very small and isolated as she stood meekly and sheepishly before
the gun toting guards. Her one small consolation was that her eighteen year old daughter,
Lauren, had chosen not to come on this particular visit and would thus be spared this
scene.  She mistakenly and naively hoped that their telling off would be the end of the
matter and they could be on their way. Not so.
      “Hands to head, hands to heads,” shouted the guards continually in broken English
until they all thus stood as if they were prisoners of war.  Kathy had felt so frightened.
“Passports show passports, then hands back to heads, no talk.”  Meekly they all stood in
terrified silence whilst the guards flicked through their passports. Kathy hated the way
her enforced pose made her breasts thrust through her tee-shirt.  She felt a trickle of
sweat inching down under her arm. “You all come – this way – out back, keep hands on
head,” the guards now opened a side door and gestured with their guns.
      Like naughty schoolchildren they all scurried out into a car park where a large
covered lorry waited.   Her fear had deepened when they grabbed her and handcuffed her
wrists tightly behind her.
      “Please, what are you ...? We’re English, please....”Kathy had struggled at the
feel of the tight metal clamps on her slim wrists. 
      Now she was really frightened, this was serious.  She had never been handcuffed
before and the unyielding restrain holding her hands behind her made her feel so
vulnerable and afraid. Although she had pulled her handbag over her shoulder to keep it
with her when her hands had been on her head, it had been wrenched off to lie in the dust
before her wrists were secured.  A woman relies on her handbag for her daily life.    Now
she had been forced to part with it and her feelings of helplessness increased.  Her
purse, mobile, passport and diary were all gone; she had nothing besides the clothes she
stood up in. It didn’t matter that one of the guards scooped up their discarded belongings
– she knew that she had effectively lost it now.
      “You bastards you can’t... Look …aaaarghhhhh,” the scream from the older man
included in their party had stopped everyone in their tracks.  Luckily he was not one of
her friends but that was little comfort considering the poor man had been beaten
unconscious with rifle butts and laid still on the ground simply for resisting the
handcuffs the guards tried to put on him. His wife, probably also in her sixties cradled
his head. 
      Now, petrified, Kathy and her friends, Lindsey and Alice allowed themselves to be
pushed along roughly, propelled into the waiting van along with their husbands and two
guards. That the hands of their captors were touching the curves of their bottoms under
their thin skirts scarcely seemed to matter now as they were pushed into the van’s hot
interior. The unconscious man and his wife were left behind.  
      Some inner sense had told her that they were somehow expected here.  Through the
slightly open door of the building they had just left she saw a guard handing a wad of
notes to the coach driver. Possibly the two older members of the tour weren’t expected or
wanted; that thought sent a shiver of fresh fear into her. Why had they almost been
singled out?
      “No talk, none at all, look down at floor at all times – no look up,” shouted a
guard when her husband, Fred, had asked for a drink of water. The heat in the airless
vehicle was terrible and soon her tee-shirt was sticking to her.  How she wished she was
wearing something more substantial, conscious of the guards’ eyes wandering over her short
skirt and cleavage.  She had been told that despite being a woman in her thirties she had
the face and figure of a beautiful teenager. Yet she wondered if such attributes would be
a disadvantage now she was amongst these hostile strangers?        
	The van bounced and jolted along sickeningly for an hour during which she obediently
stared at her painted toes visible through her sandals on the dirty floor. Then it slowed
right down and she stole a crafty look from the corner of her eye to see the van pull
through some high imposing gates into a large complex of white buildings. She, Lindsey and
Alice, the three who had actually gone ahead into the temple were pulled out to leave
their husbands behind.  
	“Please where are we?  Where are you taking us?  My husband?” But the guards ignored
her. Rough hands propelled them into the thankful coolness of a large building and then
along a dim corridor and down some even darker stairs to a cellar. She was terrified of
falling with her hands fastened behind her but as if she was a child a guard kept a tight
grip on her, his fist bunched into her tee-shirt.  Her fear grew when the guards backed
off to one side but keeping their guns handy.  They were now standing before two fierce
looking Negresses. Both women were in their twenties and had cruel contemptuous faces as
they regarded the three bound women shivering before them. One was a particularly large
woman, in a vest and tracksuit- the sort one wouldn’t want to argue with – the sort one
might cross the road to avoid if they looked belligerent. Now no such luxury was open to
her.
	With her wrists confined, Kathy gulped in dread, feeling helpless as the harsh eyes
flicked over them.  Then the Amazonian women advanced.  Grabbing their shoulders, spinning
them around with a key in her hand, Kathy was at least grateful to be free of the
handcuffs.
	“Prisoners will strip naked,” was the simple command from the large dark-skinned woman.
	“Look please, why?  We haven’t actually done ….haaah.”
	Her friend, Lindsey’s entreaty was abruptly halted as she reeled from a harsh slap
around the face.
	“Any more disobedience and guards deal with you,” the Negress shouted as the guards
stood and menacingly pointed their guns and three frightened Western women.  “You have
offended against our rules and will be punished accordingly, there can be no dispute.”
	“But where are we?  We didn’t know….arghhhhhh,” now it was Kathy’s turn to feel the pain
of disobedience. She doubled up in gasping agony as the Negress viciously punched her
stomach.  For several seconds she saw and felt only red waves of pain until the awful
black girl yanked her upright by her hair.  This was terrible, her bowels churned with
fear. She didn’t want to be punched again – or worse.
	“It no matter where you are or what you thought, you offended and you now be punished. 
Any more disobedience or talking and the guards have you; then after they use you, you get
disposed of.  So, obey or ... you know the alternative. The guards will assist you.”  
	Sick with shame and fear yet not daring to disobey, Kathy began undressing.  Her clumsy
fingers tugged off her tee-shirt and unzipped her short skirt.  Following a flick of the
girl’s eyes she reluctantly dropped it on the floor.
	“Everything ... or the guards will do it for you,” the Negress continued to stand, arms
folded, regarding the three with apparent boredom.
	Her face felt hot with shame and sick fear as she unclasped her bra and slid off her
thong panties to stand covering her nudity with shaking hands, it felt so unnatural and
shameful to undress like this in public before the cold eyes of their captors.
	 “Hands to head, no cover, we search and inspect you.”
	Feeling like a terrified animal at a slaughterhouse Kathy lifted her shaking hands to
her neck to allow the dispassionate eyes to roam at will over her exposed body.  She had
never seen her friends Lindsey and Alice without their clothes before but now they stood,
like her, naked in such hostile and harsh circumstances, the sheen of fear on the curves
of each pretty body. This was awful, so demeaning – but she dare not resist.  And she was
naked before the male guards who stood ever ready to one side, grinning with huge white
teeth as they casually smoked. Anything could happen to them.
	“Open mouth – wide – tongue right out.”
	“Please…”
      Slap!
      “Hah, ow,” Kathy yelped as one of black girls gave her teeth-rattling slap around
the face.  She was stunned, her face stinging.  No-one had slapped her since schoolgirl
fights and yet here, now, she was naked in front of...
      “Hurry mouth open, tongue out stand still, hands on head or you get more,” snapped
the girl as Kathy had to forget her thoughts and simply assume the demeaning pose
demanded. 
      Fresh tears of pain sprang to her eyes as her tongue was yanked hard and the big
dusky girl stared into her mouth, tapping her teeth with horrid nicotine-stained fingers.
Her small ears were tuned inside out before the dark hands moved down to her boobs.  It
took all of her willpower to keep her fingers laced on her head as her precious fruit were
pulled this way and that, brutally lifting them by her sensitive nipples. 
      “Bend over, spread  legs wide, keep hands on head, cow,” the girl pushed her hands
back onto her neck with one hand whilst the other hand pressed against her spine, bending
her over, then slapping her bottom until she had shifted her legs far enough apart. She
blushed beetroot red as the cheeks of her bottom were pulled apart, a long finger probing
horribly intimately into her sex.  She felt hot, soiled, hating such a crude touch, and
worse that it was from a woman and with the guards looking on.  Kathy felt as if she had
been turned inside out. 
      “Haah, please,” she moaned.  They had now even stuck fingers up her bottom, a touch
she abhorred – even from Fred.  Now she felt defiled, unclean.
      “Now medical inspections to ensure you have no diseases to inflict on Sheik.”
      “Medical... diseases...  but ..!”
      “Shut f—k up just obey, and if you don’t do whatever the doctor says or if any of
you are cheeky to him you’ll all wish you were never born.”
      Kathy’s further squirming protestations were ignored as she and her friends were
each gripped tightly by the arm and hustled, naked, all of her personal bits bouncing, to
a small examination room where a slimy looking Arab in his sixties wearing a white smock
over his paunchy body strolled over to them, wiping a sheen of sweat from his oily face to
set his several chins quivering, pocketing his dirty handkerchief. Could things get worse
she thought as she shuddered in dread at the thought of the slob touching her?
      “Good morning ladies, I am Dr Hassan.  Hmm, three Western lovelies for me to look
at eh,” he smiled cruelly, making Kathy and her friends instinctively cover their
shivering bodies with shaking hands.  As if they were old friends he placed an arm
casually around the waists of her and Alice.  Kathy squirmed away the little allowed by
the strong grip on her arm.
      “No nonsense from you f—king lot, you do exactly as the doctor says,” snapped the
Negress. 
      “There, there, ladies I sure we get on all right,” oozed the creep as he lightly
smacked her bottom, making her cringe. Now you and you lean against wall, facing it, legs
and arms nice and wide,” his hand was on her and Alice’s swaying bottoms as he guided them
to the wall and positioned them. “Now you my dear,” he began to examine Lindsey.
      Kathy cringed for her friend as the man’s brown hands travelled all over her
shivering nudity to leave nothing spared finally taking a blood sample and then urine by
making her squat before him over a bowl. It looked so out of place to see her friend’s
white body being pawed by the bastard, seeing her so vulnerable before him. When her own
turn came she felt sick as the hot, moist hands made their journey of exploration over her
whilst he stood right before her. Hideously he concentrated on her breasts and nipples,
bouncing, stroking them erect, fondling before moving to her private parts. 
      “Hmm, nice breasts, I expect these get used plenty,” he murmured to himself, a
dribble of spittle falling from his fleshy lips. She shuddered, feeling a warm and obscene
bulge in his trousers against her quaking belly.  
      If only her husband was here to tear the ghastly creep off her she thought. But
then it dawned on her that although he presumably wasn’t far away, he was quite unable to
help her; no-one could. Pushed sliding face down up onto a padded table she hesitatingly
spread her legs when told to do so and felt the rubber bulb of a rectal thermometer
pushing rudely into her bottom.
      “That good, nice backside, nice and tight, now we look ... here.”
      “Aah,” she wriggled and gasped as his fingers now intruded into her sex, exploring,
probing so intimately and publicly.   
          The blood test wasn’t a problem, nor was the other injections they gave her but
having to squat before the grinning monster and wee was a nightmare of red-faced shame. 
      “Come along pretty lady, you can do it for me, and you stay squatting till you do,”
he used similar words of vile encouragement on them all before again patting their
bottoms, and enjoying their red-faced shame as they were escorted away again. Kathy
shuddered in dread, so relieved to be away from the creep – he was the type of man a woman
would do anything to avoid and stay away from. 
	  At last the obscene invasion of her body was over; they had been searched, medically
examined and their blood tested and then came the helplessness of again having their
wrists cuffed behind them.  
      “Oow,” she winced as firstly her wrists were now painfully twisted and folded up
behind her back before being cuffed. Kathy was naked and now utterly unable to protect or
cover herself and the manner of her binding painfully thrust out her boobs provocatively. 
Her fists were clenched with tension behind her aware of the eyes of the guards glittering
as they moved over her body.  She knew she could be fucked or murdered and be utterly
unable to defend herself –even if she dared.  She felt so helpless and alone, wondering
where their husbands were, yet guessing that they couldn’t help them anyway.
 	It was with some gratitude that she let the Negress tie a short white smock around her.
 It fastened loosely at the side like a hospital gown to leave her bound wrists beneath,
but at least covering most of her modesty apart from long flashes of her limbs and an
ample portion of her cleavage.
	However, when she and her friends were given their next instructions from the Negress,
told the next stages of their ordeal, they all broke into tears.  Each of them had to be
slapped round the face until their black captors were content that they each understood
and would obey to the letter. The alternative was explained quite graphically and
emphasised by the grimly smiling gun-toting guards.
	“I say again, you white cows offended against our ways, our religion,” the scowling
Negress lectured her three victims as they tried to regain something of their composure,
their faces stinging from her slaps. “In particular you offended the Sheik who owns this
principality.
	“But we have been working with the Sheik’s people to build a water pipeline here
and....aaaghhh,” Kathy’s head swam from another slap.
	“Shut, no speaking without permission.  We’re not interested in your past life, what you
did here, only in your future.  The Sheik’s word is law here and you will prostrate
yourselves before him and ask to be punished as I have just described.  Failure to do so
will result in your .... Well let’s just say it may be the last thing you ever do,” she
smiled into their looks of shock and horror.
	“But-but please, we didn’t know.  If you let us contact the British Embassy they
will...”
	“Silence!” the Negress raised her hand threateningly before the flinching Kathy. “No-one
knows where you are or will care; trust me, the sooner that you accept that the better.
Now if you say another word.... ” She indicated the guards who had cocked their guns. “You
will speak only the words I have told you, and with the respect I have told you to the
Sheik. You address everyone here – your superiors - as ‘Sir’ or ‘Miss’ or you’ll suffer.”

 	It was an hour later that Kathy walked the longest walk of her life.  She was alone,
her bare feet padding over the flagstones of a huge marble hall.   But the side of the
huge hall was lined with people, including their husbands as she made her unsteady way
towards the throne in the centre of the room set on a dais on which the Sheik sat
imperiously. The large Negress who had instructed her stood beside him, her arms still
folded.
	Finally she reached him, the man who could have her punished or spared at a whim.
Vaguely she had hoped that he might have been someone they had met when accepting this
free holiday from a grateful country – but he was a stranger to her. He looked to be
somewhere in his sixties with cold and hostile eyes.  Although she sensed he would have no
sympathy she tried her best, without difficulty, to paint a helpless, pathetic and
apologetic expression on her face amongst the fear there.
	“Her crime?” The Sheik’s voice was deep and clear, used to being obeyed. His glinting
black eyes in a typically Arabic craggy face, flicked over her.  He looked down on her as
if she was an ant at his feet. 
	“Entering the temple Sir.” The Negress advised.
	“Prepare her.”
	Kathy felt sick with shame, requiring all of her willpower to remain standing meekly
whilst the Negress rapidly untied and tugged off her smock from the side to leave her
naked before the Sheik and the entire hall.  She was so very conscious of the nature of
her wrists twisted and bound between her shoulders thrusting out her boobs, her nipples
erect with fear and shame. Yet she knew from the precise instructions given them earlier
exactly what would happen to her, to them all, if any of them didn’t follow the degrading
ritual.
	“The prisoner will kneel,” the voice of the Negress echoed in the hall.
	Wanting the floor to swallow her she sank to her knees, cold on the floor.
	“Kneel upright, back straight no slouching,” the bitch insisted extracting her total
shame. “Look at the Sheik.”
	Again she obeyed, gasping as the posture increased the pull on her bound wrists.
	 “What punishment was recommended girl?” the old grim-faced man looked down at her.
	“S-six strokes on-on my b-bare b-buttocks, Sir,” Kathy had managed eventually, glancing
at the Negress, not daring to say anything other than what she had been instructed and in
the respectful way she had been instructed.  She daren’t risk any worse fate than already
mapped out for her.