Auda had settled back, allowing Basil to drive. Following the Major's RangeRover they had weaved their way around cyclists, camels and clapped out old buses until they left the city behind them. Auda unfolded and surveyed an old map of the area from when it had been a British colonial province. The King had banned all maps and map-making except for ones that he authorised, maps that carefully omitted his military bases; the inland oases and old towns of the hinterland that the King wanted to become forgotten. These places were still controlled by local Sheikhs and if he could reduce their trade he would reduce their wealth. Turn his opponents into beggars and how could they stop him, was his reasoning.

The perfect new tarmac swept across the sand with bold confidence for five kilometres to an inlet where there was the main oil-refinery. After that the road, which followed the coast, was nothing more than gravel. Basil allowed the RangeRover to increase its lead and the dust that it threw up acted as an efficient smoke screen enabling them to follow unseen. After a few more kilometres the main road swung inland but the RangeRover carried on down an old track that was marked on Auda's map but seemed to lead nowhere except out to a peninsula of land that thrust out into the ocean for several kilometres. Auda thought his map showed nothing but then scrutinising the map more closely he saw that almost hidden amongst the zigzag ink lines representing the cliffs was the tiny outline of a tower marked on the cliffs at the furthest point of the peninsula. The map showed that the track took a circuitous route to the tower and that if they could get the jeep along a wadi, a dried out streambed, they would effect a short cut and rejoin the track half way to the tower.

So the diligent British Empire mapmakers had even come here, Auda thought to himself, staring down the sand dune into the dark. The faint lights of the tower were the only things as far as the eye could see to show the mark of man on the wild landscape. Apart from the distant sound of the sea grinding over the rocks and against the cliffs, there was an eerie silence. The tower, he guessed must have been built as a lighthouse or a watchtower many centuries ago. And now it was being used by a Major of the secret police as a dungeon for helpless foreign girls to be held in and tortured for his amusement.

The short cut had worked and Auda had scattered a few tyre spikes across the track where they rejoined it. Basil had suggested that they ambush the Major but Auda had merely wanted to lure out from the tower whoever was in there. They had then driven the jeep across country to the tower and arrived in time to watch two young men hurry from the tower and drive a Mercedes down the track at reckless speed. Auda had then hoped to find the tower unguarded but he hadn't banked on it being so impregnable. He was quietly walking around the high stone walls when he heard a voice from inside. Even with one man still in it there was no way they could force an entry quickly enough to surprise him. So it was that they'd settled back to watch the arrival of the Major and had seen Vanessa being carried into the tower by his two servants.

The sound of footsteps made Zoe blink back the tiredness that had stolen over her. How long had it been since she'd seen the two Arab brothers bring that other girl down here? She was losing all track of time and in the cellar there was no natural light, which made matters worse. Where the hell were the SES or even the SAS! She needed rescuing, surely the British Secret Service must have worked out that something had gone wrong with her mission? She looked up as she felt a hand settle over her rump. Stonefield had left the butt plug embedded in her and hadn't deflated it so her anus was kept acutely stretched. At least he'd switched the thing off so that it wasn't vibrating.

'So how are we feeling Miss Farquerson? Nice and comfortable?'

Zoe felt the man stroke his hand down her leg, feeling the tightness of the strap around her thigh. It was the Arab again and from the tone of his voice and his smug smile she guessed he was well pleased with himself. No doubt because he'd just kidnapped another poor girl. She wondered who she was. She looked very young and was, Zoe grudgingly admitted, outrageously sexy. She had the sort of busty figure that would make her good money as a pin up model. No wonder Major Mosafa had abducted her.

'Would you like a rest, you don't look very comfortable where you are? Finding it difficult to sleep are we?'

Zoe glowered at the man as he taunted her. What did he think! Strapped down over a hard wooden bench, her arms held outstretched and her legs spread wide, of course she was in agony! Just wait until she got even with him! She would have him begging for mercy.

'Poor thing, you look rather distressed.'

Zoe sighed with relief as she felt the ball gag being deflated. Coughing and spluttering she shook her head as the man unfastened the strap and prized the ball from her aching jaws.

'Does that feel better?'

'Uhhh...mmm...'Zoe nodded appreciatively, her mouth too stiff to speak.

'I have brought you some food, here, eat.'

The man held a bowl containing rice mixed with small pieces of meat and slices of apricot and dates in front of her head.

'Aren't you going to untie my hands?' Zoe asked despondently.

'No, of course not! You can learn to eat like this or you can go hungry. The choice is yours.'

'You bastard!'

'Temper, temper.' the man shook a reproving finger at her. 'Very well, you can learn the hard way.'

Zoe swallowed to relieve the dryness in her throat and bit back the tears that pricked her eyes as the man took the bowl of food and placed it on the floor below her head where she could see it but of course could not reach it.'

'Oh, no... this isn't fair...please...' she begged.

'My dear girl, you have to learn that you are the author of your own distress. You have to realise that you are a slave now. You do as you are told and are grateful to the hand that feeds you. Now, let's try again.'

This time the man held out a bowl of water for her. Zoe didn't hesitate, straining her head forwards she gratefully drank from the bowl, lapping up the water as quickly as she could in case it was taken away before she'd drunk enough.

'You see, it's not that difficult is it?' the Arab laughed and when Zoe lifted her head back having drunk her fill he tipped what was left over her head. She gasped; shaking her head as the cool water ran through her hair and down over her shoulders.

'Please can I have some food now?' Zoe begged, looking pleadingly at the man standing before her.

'Raoul!' the man gave shout then walked around her, looking critically at her.

'Perhaps you need to lose a little more weight?'

'No!' Zoe protested, 'I'm slim enough, if you starve me I'll just look skinny.'

'You called, master.'

'Come here Raoul, stand in front of the girl, we have some more training for her.'

'English bitch look so sad,' laughed the youth. 'You have to learn to enjoy your new life. It's all you have to look forward to now!'

Zoe tried to pull her head away as the youth caught hold of her tousled and soaked hair.

'Let me go!'

'Stop tormenting her, Raoul,' ordered the Arab.

The youth who'd been lifting her head by her hair released her and stood back, grinning.

'So you want to be fed then?' Mosafa smiled condescendingly at her and Zoe nodded, looking hopefully up at the man who she realised held her completely in his power. Maybe now he had the other girl to play with he wouldn't care if he lost her. She quickly decided that whatever he was thinking, she'd get nowhere by going hungry.