Having spent a summer as a submissive model being passed from one master to another, Vanessa had quickly learnt that anger and a bad temper got her nowhere. She'd been attracted to the idea of modelling nude and when she'd seen an advert for a model to work for a painter who specialised in submissive females she'd jumped at the chance. But what had started as modelling bound and gagged had quickly developed into something far beyond what her imagination had prepared her for. At first she'd rebelled, trying to convince herself that she hated being treated in such a way. Soon enough though she became a willing victim and she'd quickly learnt how to behave to ensure that she pleased her masters. Vanessa now looked hopefully at the man and moaned faintly through the gag.
'Shut up and lie still!'
She let her head slump back down. The man was gazing at her now, watching the rise and fall of her breasts. She twisted her wrists experimentally against the rope. It had been tied in a figure of eight around her wrists, which she knew was the most effective way to prevent escape. She had lost track of how many times she'd been tied up but the truth was that wriggling against her bonds had become a curious comfort for her. After all, once she was bound and helpless there was nothing she could do to protect herself. She was effectively absolved from any responsibility for what happened to her from then on.
Once, after flirting at a party, she had allowed herself to be coaxed into a car full of young men. They'd taken her back to a flat and no sooner was the door locked behind them than Vanessa found herself dragged across a bed and forcibly stripped. They had taken turns to screw her and since she'd been gagged and held down, she couldn't stop them. She'd struggled obligingly but the truth was that she'd loved it and ever since then, the feel of being forcefully restrained had made her pussy wet with eager anticipation.
She heard another vehicle approaching and lifted her head so she could glance out of the window. A Mercedes saloon drew up in a cloud of dust and two young Arabs sprang from the car brandishing the type of machine guns that every terrorist and freedom fighter around the world seems to wave. The man in the front seat glanced back at her. She looked sorrowfully at him. Since he was obviously responsible for her abduction she had to somehow ingratiate herself with him. Whilst she was bound and gagged that was a bit difficult but at least she could look pathetically vulnerable and dutifully docile. She hoped that sooner or later he'd give her the chance to suck him off. She'd become accomplished at that and all men seemed to respond favourably to a girl who gave them a good blowjob. However the man left her in the car and she settled back down to wait the next turn of events.
She had been bought her return flight to El-Saram by Sheikh Auda bin Yasel, who had invited her to spend some time with him. He had told her he owned a villa and a yacht and that in El-Saram at this time of year she could be assured of beautifully hot days. Vanessa had jumped at the chance of a free holiday, the opportunity to top up the tan she'd acquired in southern Italy as well as the chance of some more sex with the Sheikh. She had a naturally slightly olive complexion, her mother being French. Her father though was Swedish and she had his blonde hair and blue eyes. With her slim waist and generous breasts she knew and loved the fact that she drew lascivious gazes from men wherever she went. She gazed down at her body stretched the length of the back seat of the vehicle. The white rope wrapped tightly around her ankles and wrists contrasted pleasingly with her deeply tanned skin. She could see the faint gleam of metal through the soft thatch of her pussy hair. She had suffered having her clit pierced against her will. How she had howled when she'd been subjected to that! The pain was short lived though, then she'd been forced to watch, with a curious sort of detached feeling as the young women who were tormenting her had slid a fine silver ring through her clit and fastened it. It wasn't long before she'd become attached to her new piece of body jewellery and the feeling of it being pulled or weighted made her feel deliciously vulnerable.
Craning her head she glanced up to satisfy her curiosity as she felt the vehicle move. They were changing the tyre; he must have had a puncture, which was why they'd stopped in the middle of nowhere. It was quickly growing dark now but it took only ten minutes before they were ready to drive off again. The man climbed back in, seeming more at ease now, Vanessa thought. A moment later and they were driving quickly down the desert track, the Mercedes following behind them. Vanessa laid back and pondered this latest turn of events in her life. Modelling had led her into the world of bondage and submission. She'd been taken to Italy and now here she was in the desert somewhere in the Middle East. She assumed she was still in El-Saram, but of course she couldn't be certain. How long had she been drugged, she wondered, surely only for a few hours? At last civilisation and help couldn't be too far away? She twisted her body, lifting herself up as the RangeRover drew to a halt. It was dark outside, but she could see the faint yellow gleam of lights from one lone building. When the man opened the door the cool air against her bare skin made her shiver.
The two Arab youths appeared and dragged her legs first out of the vehicle. A pole was slid under the rope binding her ankles and wrists and they lifted her easily, taking the weight from the pole across their shoulders. Hanging upside down she could see that she was being carried to a narrow tower of stone and somewhere in the distance she could hear the sound of the sea, waves breaking on rocks, a distant but relentless pounding noise.
The heavy door to the tower, framed by an archway of flaking stone was opened as they approached, light flooding out. Vanessa was gazing down at the sand and saw a scorpion suddenly caught by the light freeze for a second before it scuttled away into the shadows. The two young men carried her quickly over the threshold, the man who had abducted her following close at heel. The door was swung to and closed with a resounding thud.
'So what have we here?'
Vanessa looked up to see a slim, late middle aged man in creased beige, white shirt and coloured silk cravat looking down curiously at her.
'She's called Vanessa. She's English. Nineteen. An interesting acquisition,' said the Arab as he gestured for the two young men to take her down a narrow flight of twisting stone steps.
'So what do you make of this mystery phone call?' asked the Englishman.
'I've no idea, but it spells trouble, I'm certain,' the Arab answered with a dismissive shrug.
'Raoul,' he called down the stairs, 'give her a wash in the well then bring her up and put her in my bed. Give her a drink and some food but keep her tied.'
The youth leading Vanessa called back up the stairs.
'Yes Major. We take good care of her. Food and water and wash, yes, very good.'
Vanessa was carried down into a cool and sand floored basement. Removed from the pole she gave a sigh of relief. The pain of being hung upside down by the arms and legs was something she could only suffer for so long... She glanced around her at the room, shuddering as she took in the chains dangling from the walls and the stomach churning equipment scattered across one table. Then she saw the second table. Through the adhesive tape that was secured across her mouth she gave a gasp of surprise. Strapped down over a cross-shaped bench was a naked young woman.
Vanessa sat obediently still as a rope was tied around the one that already bound her ankles.