Bought and Sold

by Tessa Valmur

  'Nnnnhh!'

  'Cry all you want... struggle all you can... you can't escape what's coming to you now.'

  Zoe closed her eyes, bracing herself for her first taste of the whip. Both the women had applied the gag to her, which meant that someone else must have left with the Major. So that's why they've blindfolded me, Zoe thought. Someone has been watching who I'd recognise. That could surely only be one person... Sir Rodney Stonefield!

  She heard the woman take up her position behind her, heard the whip whistle once or twice through the air, then with a crack she felt searing white-hot pain against her legs. The whip hit her as it was almost fully extended and cutting through the air at its fastest. It lashed high across her thighs just below the swell of her rump making her jerk under the impact.

  There was an agonising pause giving Zoe time to take in the sensation from the whip and time for her fear of the next stroke to gather itself. The impact from the second blow forced Zoe forward against her restraints. She grunted through the gag, her arms dragging down desperately against the leather that was tight around her wrists. Blindfolded, she had no way of knowing when the next blow would come, all she could do was hang by her arms, waiting nervously. She could feel the sweat trickling down from her armpits and throat around her breasts and down her sides. She was panting hard, the gag was forcing her to breathe just through her nose and her struggling had left her exhausted.

  The woman brought the whip down again, this time harder still, making Zoe tug with her arms frantically. She tried closing her legs to protect herself but she couldn't. She could guess that the leather cuffs around her ankles had been clipped to either end of a leg spreader. Her own organisation used such devices. Two or three foot long metal poles with clasps at each end. She had helped strap a man's ankles to such a bar once. A spy they had been ordered to interrogate. She remembered how they'd drugged him then bound him for interrogation. The satisfaction she'd drawn from tightening the leather around his ankles then clipping each to either end of the steel pole so his legs were held wide for them. Naked and helpless he'd looked up imploringly at her and the other girl she was working with. After ten minutes he was begging them to stop, but for their own pleasure they had continued1/4 and now she was suffering just like he had. Zoe sighed through the gag then she was jolted from her memory by another stinging blow from the whip.

  She implored the woman to stop but the rubber ball filling her mouth stopped any communication. Another blow sent a jolt like an electric shock through her. She heard the woman walk up behind her. Trembling uncontrollably, weakly, Zoe turned her head in the direction of the ominous boot-steps.

  Zoe had always prided herself on her appearance and how in control of every situation she was. She felt confident she could charm or manipulate most people she came into contact with. Men especially were easy to control. But now she was helpless. She could imagine how she must look, panting through flared nostrils like some wild creature at bay. Her long hair tousled about her face, her naked body slick with sweat. She pleaded through the gag for the woman to stop but her begging sounded like nothing more than faint groaning. The woman laughed softly, then Zoe felt her delicately wipe the tears from her face, first one cheek and then the other.

  Through the haze of pain Zoe listened to the woman's boots as she resumed her position some yards behind her. Zoe pulled down with her outstretched arms, the leather cuffs digging into the skin of her wrists, the dull pain needling through her shoulders as she pulled backwards against her bonds.

  The woman aimed the next stroke lower than the previous, striking lightly but flicking her wrist in a way that made the very tip of the whip strike between Zoe's legs. Zoe grunted in pain as the whip tip cut against where her flesh was most tender and vulnerable. She pulled her arms against the restraints but all she could achieve was to twist her wrists within the leather cuffs. Another stroke struck across her back, the tip snaking around her ribs to lick, cruelly sharp at her breast.

  Zoe felt herself fainting, resting her head on one shoulder she gave herself up to the escape, her arms hanging loosely from where her wrists were held. She couldn't take anymore; this was her body's way of freeing itself she thought to herself dazedly. Then suddenly she was mercilessly jolted back into awareness of what she was being made to suffer. The smell from the little bottle that had been waved under her nose was fiercer than smelling salts. A moment later and she was struck again with the whip. Again she fainted and once again the little bottle was held under her nostrils and she was jolted cruelly into awareness again.

  Zoe lifted her head weakly, they'd stopped whipping her but now the man was passing his hand down her ribs then caressing one of her buttocks. She flinched as his finger traced the red lines that had been cut across her tender rump. His hands reaching between her buttocks, his fingertips drew apart the globes of lacerated flesh. When he touched her sex she could feel her own slickness as his fingers stroked her. She sighed through the gag as the touch intensified the ache her body felt there and through the haze of pain she realised that she was actually aching for sexual satisfaction.

  'Looking forward to this, bitch?'

  Zoe listened to the faint metal rasp of his trouser zip being pulled down.

  'You know what's going to happen next don't you? I bet you're aching for it aren't you?'

  Zoe shook her head, struggling to deny even to herself the truth that she was desperate for sexual gratification now. All the torment, all the pain, had left her body achingly aroused.

  'You want this don't you?' growled the unseen voice.

  Pulling weakly with what was left of her strength, the leather chafing her skin, she twisted her arms as she dangled helplessly. She tried again to draw her thighs together but her legs were kept spread and she could feel the man's hand stroking her bare skin, then his fingers were rubbing her pussy, probing her.

  'So I was right, you're desperate for it aren't you!' the man laughed, as his fingers slid easily into her sex. Zoe hung her head and sighed through the gag. To her shame it was true; she was wet with arousal from the treatment they'd meted out to her.

  She felt the tip of his shaft slide down into the canyon of soft flesh her buttocks formed and then along until it nudged her sex lips apart. Using his hand to guide it, he pushed his shaft up into her young body right to the hilt and she felt his pelvis grind against her scored buttocks. Then he drew back, her slender body convulsed; he pushed in again, harder. Zoe sighed through the gag as her orgasm suddenly overtook her; the exquisite feeling washing through her whole pain racked body. She felt the man forcing himself into her again and again and as a fresh wave of pleasure washed over her, as she abandoned herself to the gratification her body had been crying out for.

  The man began driving his cock into her with increased urgency and she became momentarily oblivious to her surroundings, her mind focusing on the extreme pleasure of being used so forcefully. Her body felt awash with the sensation of being controlled and subdued by the ropes and leather restraints. She grunted through the gag each time his cock rammed into her and her stifled cries seem to incense him more and more. Another orgasm shook her tethered body and then she felt the cock ram into her one more time before jerking and throbbing madly as he came deep inside her. His hands gripped her exhausted body and she felt his breath hot against her neck. Dazed, her whole body aching deliciously, she sighed through the gag as waves of exquisite pleasure washed over her.

  Chapter Two

  The sound of voices woke Zoe. When she tried to swallow to relieve the dryness in her throat she realized that her mouth was still filled by the ball gag which held her jaws painfully apart. She opened her eyes but to her dismay found that she was still enveloped in the darkness of a blindfold. She guessed that she'd been strapped back down onto the bench. She tried moving her arms but they were pinned back above her head again by the wristcuffs that kept her arms spread and taut. Her legs were also bound and for a moment she twisted, testing her restraints. It was hopeless
. She sighed, gave up struggling and concentrated instead on listening to the noises around her.

  'Pull back the girl's flesh at the side of her mouth here.'

  Zoe shook her head, trying to stop them as gloved fingers pulled back the corner of her mouth allowing an opening for the cold, hard plastic of a syringe to slip into her mouth. Zoe tried twisting her head away but hands restrained her, holding her head still as liquid was trickled into her mouth. Fingers pinched her nostrils, stopping her from breathing and forcing her to swallow, though with the ball gag forcing her mouth wide it would have been impossible for her to have spat the liquid out anyway. Reluctantly she gulped and felt the liquid trickle down her throat.

  'Let her breathe again, she's swallowed it.'

  'How long does it take?'

  'A few minutes and she'll be docile enough. She's so slim that with the quantity I've given her she'll probably pass out in a few minutes.'

  'Right, untie her. The sooner she's moved from here the better. The British Embassy is starting to ask too many questions.'

  'Do you think they've guessed?'

  'What does it matter? They can't prove anything and by tomorrow morning she'll be where no-one will ever find her.'

  Zoe could feel one of the men stroking her naked body. His hand ran over her flank then her ribs and her stomach. She made a show of struggling then pretended to give up. A moment later she groaned through the gag then let her head slump sideways as if she'd lost consciousness. If she could just keep awake for as much of the journey as possible she might find out more about her abductors and where she was being taken.

  She felt the pressure on her arms and legs slacken then several pairs of hands lifted her from the bench. She was laid on the cool stone floor and her arms pulled behind her back. The wristcuffs were then clipped together and a belt was slipped around her arms above her elbows. As the belt was tightly buckled, drawing her arms closely against her back, she felt the drug taking effect. She was only vaguely aware of her legs being bound together as a chemical-induced lethargy overtook her. When she was lowered into a crate though, her head knocked against the side and for a moment she recovered enough of her senses to catch part of the men's conversation.

  'Take her back to the tower. No one will disturb you there. I must remain in the capital. You know how to deal with her?'

  'I think I've had enough practice now, Major. The Australian girl, the teenage backpacker, she turned out well enough didn't she?'

  'She was weak to start with, Sir Rodney. This woman is a trained Secret Service Agent. She will resist your efforts to subdue her will.'

  'Don't worry Major, she'll end up like all the others.'

  There was a heavy thud above her and Zoe guessed that they'd put a lid on the crate. A second later there was the sound of hammering. Zoe could feel the drug taking its full effect upon her now as she felt herself falling asleep against her will. She twisted her tethered body to try to find a more comfortable position and talked to herself in her mind, reminding herself of her mission and trying to formulate a plan for escape. The heat in the crate was getting worse though and the air was so close and dry it was hard to breathe. She felt the strength slipping from her limbs and then her body slid down until her head was resting on the floor of the crate. She groaned through the ball gag and tried to lift her cheek from the wooden floor of the crate but she had no strength left. Just got to keep awake, she told herself, mustn't fall asleep. Mustn't fall...

  * * *

  'Miss Farquerson, or should we say Miss Chambers, was definitely seen leaving the plane but none of the passengers we've checked with recall seeing her after customs,' the matronly lady swept into the office, a pile of books and papers under one arm, a mobile phone in her other hand.

  The gentleman behind the broad, mahogany desk nodded. He took a final glance at the letter before him and just above where was typed, "Edgar R M Sutherland, Director of Foreign Operations, British Secret Service", he signed his name and carefully placed the cap back on his fountain pen.

  'I had Stewart speak with their airport security,' she said, 'according to them she passed customs and was last seen getting into one of those unlicensed taxis.'

  The woman sat herself down in one of the deep leather armchairs and gazed out of the window. Taxis, buses and cars formed a gridlock stretching down Falmers Street as far as Whitehall.

  'Do you believe them?' she asked.

  The man snorted contemptuously, standing up from his desk. He straightened his tie and shook his head. He glanced at the dossier in front of him.

  'Of course not! It's pretty obvious what's happened. Stonefield has shopped her to the El-Saram security service. That bloody man has been nothing but trouble. Pity we can't just have the SAS grab him and get him on a Hercules back home where he can face the music!'

  'Well at least you now know that he is out there, Director.'

  'That was the whole idea behind sending the Farquerson girl out. She was the bait. We guessed he was out there, skulking around as some shadowy advisor to the King. This pretty much proves it. Stonefield obviously couldn't resist the chance to get even with the girl for her part in his downfall over here.'

  'But we still can't prove he's there and now we've lost the girl,' observed the woman.

  'Well, Miles reckons that the El-Saram Internal Security is holding her. Chances are Stonefield is watching her being tortured by Internal Security and he'll love every minute of it. All we need to do is find the girl and we should find Stonefield into the bargain. Miles thinks she's still in the airport and he's got the place under surveillance. Of course we can't be seen to have anything to do with what happens, so Miles has employed a local mercenary to steal her back.'

  'And meantime; hope that the poor girl isn't suffering too much,' said the woman. 'What if she talks?'

  'All the information and names we've fed her about the underground pro-democracy movement out there is a load of nonsense.'

  'But that won't stop her being tortured.'

  'Obviously. And I dare say when they find out she's been leading them up the garden path they'll not be too amused either. Let's hope by then we've got her back or else she'll really be in for a rough ride!'

  The man glanced down at a file of papers lying open beside the letter. The topmost sheet gave a concise resume of the career of Zoe Farquerson to date. After three years as a desk girl with the British Secret Service she had been moved to SES. This unit, established quite recently, comprised a handful of young women from the ranks of the Secret Service who were all extremely attractive. They were trained to act under cover, seducing then extracting secrets from enemies of the state. Hence SES: Seduce and Extract Secrets. Attached to the sheet by a paperclip was a photograph of the young woman. He stared at the picture for a moment then flicked over the top sheet. More information about her followed, along with another photograph. In the first the petite, dark haired girl was shown demurely posing in a smart jacket and skirt. In the second photo she was wearing a tight mini-skirt and a skimpy dark blue top that exposed her arms and her stomach. The photo was drenched in sunlight and the girl was grinning, tilting her head to one side, pretending to be eating a bunch of grapes which she held one handed above her head. The Ambassador scrutinized the photograph more closely. The girl's long, dark hair was tousled about her face and bare shoulders. Grape juice was smeared down over her neck and collarbone. The look she was giving whoever had taken the photograph was provocative, to say the least. Her skirt was so short it barely covered the swell of her rump and her generous breasts jutted against the tight material of her skimpy top. Some notes in the dossier told him the photo had been taken by a boyfriend whilst she was on holiday a few years earlier. The file listed all her boyfriends and by twenty-six she had clocked up dozens. Zoe Farquerson was evidently an active young girl!

  'Perhaps you'll excuse me Mrs. MacDonald, I have some notes to work on for tomorrow's meeting with the PM's Secretary.'

  'Of course Director. I'll not
put any calls through to you until you give me the all clear.'

  Edgar Sutherland waited until the woman had shut the door behind her then he opened a desk drawer, took out a videotape and slid it into the player. Pressing a button on the remote on his desk, a panel of fake bookshelves slid away and a television screen flickered into life. He glanced again at the notes written on the tape box. "Surveillance film: SES: agent Farquerson/ Rodney Stonefield seduction. Hidden camera, Belgravia Hotel, Suite 17."

  On the television screen the girl entered a large, lavishly furnished bedroom followed closely by a suited man in his late middle age. Edgar Sutherland fast-forwarded the tape, which he'd already watched all the way through once. Champagne, kisses and fondling led to the couple undressing each other and the girl, still in her skimpy underwear, encouraging the man to lie down on the bed. It took only a moment with fast-forwarding the tape. Even at real speed, it had happened quickly, mused Sutherland, as he watched his young agent persuading the man to lie still for her. Sutherland kept his thumb over the fast forward while the girl could be seen coaxing the man to allow her to tie him up. She used the sashes from two towelling bathrobes to tie his hands to the opposite corners of the bedhead and then she used her stockings to bind his ankles to the bottom corners of the four-poster. At this point Sutherland cancelled the fast-forward and pressed the play button.

  The young girl looked down thoughtfully at the man tied spread-eagled on the bed before her. She wore delicate, ivory silk panties with a matching camisole that hung down over her large but firm young breasts and left her taut stomach exposed. Her long fingernails, varnished a deep burgundy, skimmed slowly over the man's thighs and he sighed in frustrated anticipation as her fingertips glided around his erect cock but carefully avoided touching him. Her dark eyes sparkled with amusement at his condition. She had on dark purple lipstick and her sensual, bow shaped lips smiled with satisfaction as she watched him pulling ineffectually against the restraints she'd fastened a few moments earlier around his wrists and ankles.