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."