Desert Dream




“Are you sure you want to stay here on your own, Mum – after all, there have been all those break-ins and the disappearances….”


Dorothy just smiled as her son stood in the doorway.  The kids and his wife had already left to get into the SUV, and he was just waiting to see if she had changed her mind.


“Yes, I’m sure – after all, and I mean this in the nicest way, nobody is going to want to break in here.  The security cameras are running, you have your phone – if anything happens, I’ll call you.”


She smiled as she leant on the white kitchen chair.  “This is a family day for you and the others – I’d only be in the way.  Go on, get going – I’ll be fine.”


Her son smiled as he turned to leave the room.  “All right then – we’ll be back before dark,” he called over his shoulder as he left her standing there.  It was a warm summer day, and Dorothy was wearing a short green sundress that showed off her slim body.  Although she did not look it, she was a lady of mature years, and had lived with her son in Long Island since her husband had passed away some years before.


She worked in a local office, where her friends got to call her Dottie and anyone else addressed her as Mrs Carr.  One of the perks of office management and seniority, as she saw it.  She listened to the sound of the car leaving the driveway, and started to brew up a fresh pot of coffee.


As the machine started to heat up, she sat down and read the local paper.  Flipping through the pages, she stopped at a report that had caught her eye.


Local Woman Missing


Fourth Case in as many weeks


Police were called last night to a house on Maple Drive, after an emergency call by Mister Robert Loughton reporting a break in.  On arrival, the local force found evidence of a robbery by person or persons unknown.  More disturbing was evidence to suggest that Jennifer Loughton, the wife of Robert, had been present at the time – her handbag and other personal items were discovered scattered around the house, but of her there was no sign.


Police are refusing to confirm details of what they found, or if this case is linked to the other three disappearances that have been reported in the local area.  At this stage, a reward is been offered for information…


Dorothy put the paper down, stood up and made her way over to the coffee machine.  Filling a mug, she made her way into the living room and sat down, listening to the sound of the birds in the trees outside and the children playing in the streets.  Taking a sip, she thought about the report.  Jennifer was actually an acquaintance of hers – they frequented the same gym – and she could not help wondering where she may have gone.


“She might have just ran and not stopped running,” Dorothy mused as she sipped her coffee.  “After all, that husband of hers has had a few issues in the past with younger women.  It would not surprise me one little bit if she had just decided to leave him, and got what she could before she left.


“Would she stage a robbery?  Possibly – she would know what had happened with the other women – all younger, all left their homes or offices and never made it to their destinations.  It might have given her some ideas.”


She closed her eyes, and went into a deep thought.  “After all, what woman has not dreamed of running away, escaping somewhere more glamorous, more mysterious?”  As she sat back, a favourite fantasy of hers started to come into mind, her imagination taking her far, far away….



The warm wind blowing in form the desert sands was starting to cool as the sun set, the red fireball slowly disappearing over the horizon beyond the palace walls.  She entered the room, a mixture of anticipation and fear in her mind.  She had been part of the harem for some time, but this was the first occasion on which he had asked for her.


As she walked slowly around the room, touching the exquisite silks that hung around the walls and breathing in the sweet jasmine fragrance that was arising from the gardens, she began to wonder what had brought her to this attention.  Perhaps the sweetmeats she had lovingly prepared for him the previous night?  Or maybe it was the dance she had performed for him and his guests the previous evening during the banquet?


At any rate, she felt lucky and a little scared.  She had never being in this situation before, and despite the eunuch’s teachings she worried that she would not be pleasing to him.  Stopping in front of a mirror, she checked the way her pale blue outfit was looking.  Well, less an outfit, more a G-string and a small bra, but when she had left home to come to this new life she knew what may be required.


A gong sounded in the distance, and she hurriedly hid her lower face behind a thin slim veil of the same material that covered her lower arms.  She knelt on the bed, and looked up over the veil as he walked in, his white robes flowing in the breeze.


“What is your desire?”  She whispered as he came over to her, the light in his eyes of tenderness and desire.  She smiled as he knelt next to her, taking her in his strong arms and sweeping her onto his lap.  His movement so strong that he accidentally knocked over a flask of perfume, the glass breaking on the stone floor and the fragrance filling the air….


Dorothy’s eyes opened.  Breaking glass?  She looked to her side, but her coffee mug was still there, the contents cooling and a skin forming on the surface of the liquid.  She stood up, intending to look round, when the telephone rang.


“Hello?  Oh Hi Ginger.


“No, I’m free for lunch today.  Where would you like to meet up?


“All right – give me half an hour and I’ll see you there. Bye.”


She put the phone down and made her way up to her room, not noticing the creak as the kitchen door slightly opened and a gloved hand came round the edge of the wood…


Twenty minutes later, she came back down the stairs, having changed into a black cap sleeved dress that showed off her body’s curves, and slipped on a pair of sandals.   Stopping by the table, she stood there looking in the mirror when a blur caught her attention from the corner of one eye.  She wondered what it was, but an answer to that question came quickly when she was grabbed from behind and a large gloved hand clamped over her nose and mouth.  She started to struggle, the strong leather scent permeating her nostrils, but as the hand remained firmly in place she started to faint away, her body supported all the time as she fell into unconsciousness…





“She’s starting to come round.”


Dorothy slowly opened her eyes, to see two men standing in front of her.  They were tall, muscular, and smartly dressed, but the balaclava masks over their heads meant all she could see were the piercing blue eyes of both men and their thin set mouths.  She tried to say “what’s going on,” but what actually reached her ears was “whts gng n.”


Looking down, she saw that she was tied to a computer chair, and as she looked round she realised that they were in her son’s home office.  Her wrists were firmly tied down to the armrests of the chair by the computer table, while her legs were crossed and tied above the knees.  As she leant forward, she saw ropes around her ankles, and the fact she could not bring them more than about an inch forward told her they were secured in some way to the chair support.


“Great – robbers,” Dorothy thought to herself, “which means I must be gagged.”  Looking into the display unit, she could dimly see a white scarf had been tightly tied over her mouth, and the pressure she felt on her tongue told her that something had been placed there before the gag was deployed.  “That explains why I can’t say anything reasonable,” she thought to herself as she turned her attention back to the two intruders.


“Good morning, Mrs Carr,” one of the men said as he leant over her, the faint hint of coffee on his breath.  “Please, remain calm and do not try to escape.  I promise you we will not be too long.”


“Like I’m going anywhere,” Dorothy thought to herself as he turned to his companion.  “Guard her while I search the place until she comes.”


“She?” Dorothy wondered as she watched him walk out of the room and the other man sit opposite her.  “Who’s she?”  She turned her attention to the ropes holding her to the chair, but quickly realised there was no way she would be able to escape without tools, tools the other man was highly unlikely to let her get.  Sitting back, she wondered how she would have dealt with this in her fantasy world, and closed her eyes….


Dottie opened her eyes and blinked as she looked round.  She was no longer in the large and airy rooms of the palace.  Instead, she was sat on a mattress in a cold stone room, windowless and with green drapes hanging from the walls.


She remembered the previous evening – returning to her room in the harem after her night with the sheikh, she had been filled with desire and exhaustion.  She had retired, aiming to sleep when the sweet smelling cloth had been pressed without warning over her mouth and nose.  She had tried to fight back, of course, but to no avail.


Looking down at her body, she realised that she was wearing a different outfit from that of the previous night.  This one was red, pants and a bikini-style top and red thin chiffon pants and jacket.  She also, from her refection in the mirror, had a red cap on with a muslin veil down the sides.


She also noticed the large red ball that had been strapped into her mouth, which explained to her the strange taste she had initially put down to the drug that had put her to sleep.  Trying to sit herself up, Dottie realised that she was also tightly bound, ropes encircling her arms and chest as well as holding her wrists together behind her back, while further loops were around her ankles and legs.


“Kidnapped,” she thought to herself as she finally managed to sit herself up on the mattress she had been lying on.  “Who would dare to have invaded my master’s palace – and why?”  She listened carefully, and could hear muffled conversations elsewhere, but nothing to help her in her current predicament.


Reaching around with her fingers, she could feel the ropes that encircled her wrists.  They were soft to the touch, almost like silk, and there was no pressure on her wrists to cause her pain.  Having said that, she could not move or separate them, so whatever they were made from was holding firm to any attempts to loosen them.


Looking round, she wondered what he would say when he discovered the intrusion.  Would he even notice she had gone, given his tastes?  A sweat started to break out as Dottie contemplated what fate would have in store for her in this place.  As she did this, she became aware that the noise she could hear was growing louder, more persistent, and seemed to be….


Fighting!  There was definitely some sort of fight going on outside – she could hear the clash of steel against steel and the cry of men as they fell.  She sat bolt upright, wondering what the outcome would be as the door was forced open.


There he stood, resplendent in his robes a she fought off the last of the armed guards.  “Be patient, my love, I will be with you shortly,” he called out as he wielded his scimitar, fighting against the heathens who had taken her hostage.  Finally, as the last one fell, he allowed his sword to drop to the ground and came over, taking Dottie in his strong arms and holding her close.


“Forgive me, my favourite, for my lack of protection.  Had I known you would be used as a tool against me, then I would never have allowed you to be taken.”


As he spoke, he gently removed the ball that was filling Dottie’s mouth, and looked deep into her eyes.


“Return with me, my love, and be my favourite, my one, my only true love.”


She looked deep into his eyes, and replied “How can I refuse, my darling,” closing her eyes as he came closer, his lips brushing against hers as she body responded to his touch, his caress, his kiss….



“She looks as if she is having fun, wherever she is.”


Dorothy snapped open her eyes.  The man had been joined by a stranger to her, a female dressed in a business suit, dark of complexion and tall of height.  She was looking at Dorothy as she sat there, almost with an appraising eye for her body and clothes.


“Yes – I think she is a suitable candidate, but she needs to be made ready for travel.”  The woman stood on front of Dorothy and looked straight into her eyes.  “We are going to untie you from the chair, and one of these men will hand you an outfit.  You will change into it, and you will not attempt to raise the alarm.  Do you understand?”


Dorothy nodded – she was feeling cramped, and at this stage would do anything to stretch her legs.  The woman stepped back, and nodded to her male companion as she sat down, drawing a rather large pistol from a handbag as she did so.  She watched as Dorothy was slowly untied, especially appreciative for some reasons as she stretched her legs out in front of her after the ropes were removed and while her wrists were being untied.


“You should feel honoured,” the woman said as Dorothy was helped to stand up, the cloth still covering her stuffed mouth.  “We do not select everyone for the honour you are to receive.  Show her the outfit.”


The man held up a clothes hanger, on which was a dark pink cashmere sweater and a black leather belt.  Dorothy recognised it as her own, taken from her wardrobe, and looked questioningly at the female.


“Change or my friend here will change you,” she said as she picked the pistol up.  Sensing she needed to do as she was told, Dorothy reached behind her back and started to unzip her dress, wondering just what their plans for her were.



Outside, Ginger sat in her Lincoln convertible looking up at the house.  There had been no answer when she rang on the doorbell, and the blinds were drawn, but it was most unlike her friend to say she would come for lunch and then not arrive.  Starting the car, she drove in the direction of the town centre.



As she heard the car drive off, Dorothy was being pushed into the main room of the house.  She stood there as the other male intruder returned with one of her bags, which jangled as he placed it on the table.  The three of them than walked round Dorothy as she stood there, the jumper hugging her body and the skirt showing off her legs.  The gag was still in place, preventing her asking the obvious questions, such as what was going on and who they were.


“Yes, he will be most pleased.  The last woman we took to him did not satisfy him, but I believe this one will.  Prepare her.”


“The last woman,” Dorothy thought as one of the men pulled her wrists behind her back and started to tie them together.  “What on earth are they talking about, the last women…?  Oh god – the ones who have disappeared!”


She started to scream out, even through the muffling of the cloth, but stopped when the woman stood in front of her and slapped her.  She looked into her cold eyes, wincing both at the smart she had from the slap on her cheek and the ropes that were cutting through the cashmere against her arms and chest.


“You will be silent – you have been selected for a great honour, and you will not refuse.  Now, kneel.”


Dorothy felt herself been pushed to the floor, and then over onto her side.  As one of the men started to tie her ankles together, the other reached behind her head and started to untie the cloth around her mouth.  Finally, he removed the scarf and pulled a sodden mass of cloth from her mouth as the other man stood up.


“Please, tell me what’s going on,” she said as she looked up at the three intruders.  “I’ll do anything you ask, but please just tell me what’s happening.  I don’t…..”


“Yes, you will do whatever we ask,” the woman said as she opened a small case, and took out a hypodermic syringe.  Testing the contents, she knelt next to Dorothy’s head and pressed the needle into her arm.


“Sleep now, and when you awake you will be in paradise,” she said as Dorothy felt a warm feeling flowing through her.  She looked around the room as everything started to blur, wondering what was happening and what she would wake up to as her eyes closed, and a dream started to begin in her sleep…


“Paging Nurse Carr, paging Nurse Carr – You are needed in room 101.”


Dottie looked up from the desk she was sat at.  The gleaming white walls of the hospital ward reflected the bright fluorescent light at her as she stood up.


“What’s going on,” she thought to herself as she looked round.  People were walking past quickly, not paying much attention to her, but one of the young nurses stopped and looked at her.


“Come on, Dottie, Doctor Cripps wants you in room 101.  You’d better hurry.”


Looking down, Dottie saw that she was wearing the short white dress of a nurse, and reaching up she felt a cap sitting on her brown hair.  “Better go along with this, whatever this is,” she said to herself as she walked down the corridor, the heels of her flat shoes echoing on the linoleum floor.


Stopping in front of a door with “Room 101” written on the opaque glass, Dottie knocked and walked in.   A grey haired man was sat behind a desk, and with him a tall statuesque woman dressed in a leather skirt and a sleeveless top that barely covered her ample breasts, tied below them at her front over her bare midriff.


“Ah, nurse Carr.  I believe you know Doctor Foster from the psychology department?” the man said as he stood up.


“No, I don’t,” she said as she closed the door behind her, “can you tell me what’s going on?”


“Surely you remember you agreed to take part in our experiment today,” the man said as he took his glasses off.  “Well, no matter – sit down in this chair and we will begin.”


Dottie sat down, wondering what was happening as the female took a length of cord from a bag on the table.


“Today we will look at the effect of fear on a hostage,” she said as she spoke to the male doctor.  Nurse Carr here will play the hostage – please, hold your hands out.”


“What the hell’s going on,” Dottie wondered, but she did as she was asked and watched as the woman tightly bound her wrists together.  “How does that feel,” she said as she passed the rope between her wrists, tying it off and holding them in from of the nurse.


“You’re scaring me,” Dottie said, but at the same time she could not deny to herself that somehow this was – well, exciting.  There were feelings stirring within her that she could not deny, ones she had not felt for so many years, and she wanted to say something.


“The subject is not allowed to speak,” the man said as he walked behind Dottie.  The next thing she knew was the taste of leather in her mouth as the man pushed a large ball attached to leather panel between her lips, buckling the panel tightly against her mouth by straps that fastened behind her head.


“Thank you Doctor Cripps – if you could secure her feet now,” the female said, and Dottie watched as the man pulled her ankles together against a leg of the chair, tying them together and to the wood.  This sense of helplessness, this restriction, she thought would scare her, but instead it was causing her to feel excited, filling her with thoughts of pleasure and enjoyment, almost as if this was meant to be for her.


The time passed with both of the doctors making notes as Dottie continued to try and free herself.  As the clock ticked round, she grew more and more worried about what the ultimate intention of the experiment was.  Eventually, Doctor Foster laid her clipboard down, took up a pair of curved scissors and walked over.


“Thank you, Nurse Carr, you have been most cooperative.”  As she said this, she cut the bonds around Dottie's wrists and allowed her to remove the gag.  “Please, untie your legs and ask Nurse Loughton to come in after you.”


Dottie stood up, nodded to both of the doctors and left the room, still shaking from her experience.  Approaching the nurse’s station, she saw her friend Jennifer Loughton sitting there in her uniform.


“You’re wanted in Room 101,” she said as she sat down.  Watching Jennifer heading off, she started to feel light headed as the reality of what had happened sunk in.  Letting her eyes close, her head fell forward onto her lap as she fell into a shock induced sleep…..



“Dottie?  DOTTIE!!!”


Dorothy slowly opened her eyes, and wondered at first why she could not see.  As her eyes adjusted to the dim light, however, she realised that it wasn’t a question of her blindness as much as the fact she was lying in a windowless stone room, with only a hard wooden bench keeping her off the ground.


The cotton taste in her mouth made her wonder if she was gagged again, but as she worked her jaw she realised that not only was her speech unhindered, so was her movement.  Slowly, she sat herself up, the leather skirt she was wearing squeaking against the rough wood.


“Dottie, is that really you?”


Looking across the room, Dorothy could make out the body of another woman laying there, her face looking towards her.  She stood up, weaving slightly from side to side as she shook off the last effects of the anaesthetic, and walked slowly over.


“Jenny?  Oh my god, it is you Jenny!”


Jennifer Loughton was lying on the other bench, covered in a rough woollen blanket and staring at her friend.  She was on her side, and although she looked fine Dorothy was aware that her arms seemed to be behind her.


“Oh god, Dottie, they got you as well,” she said as tears started to flow down her cheeks.


“Who did?”


“I think they’re white slavers.  I came home to find them in the house, and then this woman turned up.  She looked at me as I was trussed up on the couch, ordered me to change my clothes and then gave me an injection.  The next thing I knew, I was here.  How long has it been?”


“At least three days – I don’t know how long I’ve been out.  Where are we, anyway?”


Jennifer looked around.  “I don’t know – but we’re not alone.  I’ve heard other women screaming and crying.  Dottie, you need to listen before….”


The door to the room was opened suddenly, and the two men who had captured Dorothy walked in.  They were no longer dressed as business men, but wore the costumes of palace workers in some Eastern dream.


“Come with us,” they said as they took Dorothy by the arm and marched her out of the room, leaving Jennifer behind.  She was taken down several torch lit corridors until they came to a heavy wooden door.  On opening it, she was surprised to see a line of young women, dressed in silk robes and wearing veils.


“Prepare her for the master,” the men said as they led Dorothy in.  Two of the women came forward and silently led Dorothy to the centre of the room, where they began to remove her clothing.  Two more drew back a large curtain, which went from ceiling to floor, to reveal a large bath of warm water, into which the others two poured sweet smelling oils.  As she was stripped Dorothy was led to the bath and allowed to walk in, letting herself sit down and relax in the fragrant waters while she was washed with soft cloths.


“Can you tell me where I am?” she asked one of the veiled women as she gently dried her hair.


“You are in the harem of our master, and you are fortunate, for he has picked you to be his companion for this night.”


Dorothy looked around.  “You mean that I am his slave?”


“No – not if you please him, for if you do you will be rewarded beyond measure.  If you do not….”


“If I do not?”


“Listen to the others who have been brought before you – they will tell you.”


Although there was soothing music playing, Dorothy could hear screams and cries for help above the tune.  She wasn’t sure what to think – on the one hand, her fantasy was coming true, but on the other….


“What if I want to go home, to see my family to say goodbye?”


The woman stopped towelling her hair and held her hand out so that Dorothy could step out of the bath.  “You must forget your past life, for you are now dead to that.  My master has chosen you, and if you refuse to accept his offer, his advances, we all will suffer.


“Come – you must don the robes and prepare yourself for his presence.”


The girls came forward and dried Dorothy’s naked body, before leading her to a recliner on which lay a pair of purple pantaloons, made of thin chiffon, a pair of gold briefs and a top of gold metal that covered her chest but left her shoulders and midriff bare.


“Don the garments, and we will make you ready to be presented to the master,” the girl said.  Looking round the opulent room, Dorothy picked up the slave girl outfit and put it on, noticing how well the top and briefs fitted her.


The two guards silently entered the room, carrying a small wooden casket.  “The master desires that you wear these,” they said, opening the casket to reveal a golden arm bracelet and an ornate necklace of gold and jewels.


“They – they’re beautiful,” Dorothy said as the attendants helped her to put on the jewellery.


“You are to be presented to our master – it is an honour not to be shared,” the men said.  “Now, hold out your wrists.”


“Why?” Dorothy said, and immediately regretted it as the women grabbed her wrists and held them out, watching as a pair of brass manacles connected by a chain was fastened around them.  She opened her mouth to protest, only for a scarf that smelt of jasmine and tasted of violets to be pushed into the open gap and a wide scarf of soft white muslin to be passed several times around her jaw and neck to hold it in place.


“Our Master demands silence,” the men said as she was led out of the room, up a stone staircase and into an ornate bedroom.  A roaring fire was burning in the hearth, and the drapes and curtains blew in the cool breeze from an open window.


The two men took Dorothy over to the bed, and mad her sit down on the silk coverings while they manacled her feet together.  The chain was long enough to allow her movement and walking, but any thought of trying to escape was cut off as one of the men took a heavy chain from a corner of the bed and attached it to the necklace around her neck, forcing her to stay on the bed.


“The master will enjoy you,” they said as they left Dorothy sitting there, wondering just what was going to happen next.  Her dream, her secret desire was indeed coming true, but at what cost…


A large gong sounded, and the door was thrown open by a tall dark haired man, dressed in a flowing blur robe over a red shirt and dark pants.  He wore an Arab headdress over his hair as he stared at Dorothy lying on the bed.


“Truly, my servants have brought home a treasure for me to sample.  What do you say my dear?”


Dorothy stared at the man, and although the gag was muffling her it was clear to him exactly what she was saying.  “So, you think you are better than me, you cur?  I can soon teach you some manners, as I did the others before you!”


The muffled insults and swearing seemed to be arousing him as well as angering him, and as he came closer Dorothy began to fear for what he might do.  At the same time, however, she could not deny the growing feeling of excitement in her breast, the fact that she was finding this terrifying and exciting at the same time.  Was it so wrong to feel this way, despite what he may be about to do?


As he approached, she pushed herself back on the bed, fearing what his true intention might be.  That fear only grew as he said “You seek to deny me my right, bitch?  Allow me to show you what I think of your futile attempt to discourage me.”


He reached to his side and drew out a long curved knife, which he moved around in his hand before sitting on the bed beside Dorothyand placing it next to her throat.


Tears started to flow down her cheeks – even in her wildest nightmares, she had never expected to find herself in a situation where her life was going to be threatened.  To make matters worse, the man laughed when he saw how frightened she was getting.


“Fear is a great tamer, and my bitches need to know fear of they are to serve me,” he said as he came closer.  “You realise that, don’t you, my American mother – your life as a free woman is over, and you will live to serve me only now.  Tell me, has that not been something you have always desired – I can see in your eyes that is the case.”


As much as she wanted to deny it, Dorothy could not – this had been her secret fantasy for so long, she had never considered how much the reality might differ.  She also could not deny the warm feeling she was getting at the same time as her fear – the way her breasts seemed to be growing and throbbing, the way her nipples were hardening as the situation carried on.


The sheikh leaned over and lifted the front of her top up, exposing her right breast even as she turned away.  He looked on and nodded in appreciation of her body


“I see you cannot deny what I am saying, my slave,” the man said as he let the top drop over her body and placed his hands on her thigh.  “Come – let me take you to paradise and ecstasy in my arms.”


He lifted the top up again and placed the flat of the blade against Dorothy’s breast, gently stroking the skin and flesh with the cold metal as his other hand moved gently over her inner thigh, stroking the soft flesh through the thin fabric.  She started to move with him, the growing feeling in her breast so very difficult to control and deny.  She was being aroused, he was taking her to a new height of ecstasy, but it was so wrong, it could not be right to feel this way without the freedom to respond.


“Yes,” he whispered into her ear as she moaned, “I know you cannot deny the feelings that grow within you.  Move with me, join with me.”  He put the blade to one side, lifted the top completely off her breasts and slowly stroked the erect nipples with his fingers.  Dorothy moaned even more, closing her eyes as the feeling between her legs grew ever stronger, ever more desiring, ever more in need of release…


“Do you want me now, slave,” he whispered into her ear, and Dorothy moaned “Yss, ysss……”  She closed her eyes, both wanting to stop and refusing to deny she wanted him to continue his arousal of her….




Dorothy opened her eyes and stared in amazement.  The door to the room had been burst open, and six of New York's finest officers were covering the sheikh with their handguns pointing straight at them.


“What is the meaning of this insult!” he demanded as the officers ran into the room, two of them wrestling him to the ground.  “I am a diplomat of my country, and you have no right to….”


“We’ll talk about rights when you explain what’s going on here,” one of the officers said as he came over and covered Dorothy up before removing the gag and taking the cloth out of her mouth.


“I’m not in some foreign country?” she said as another officer approached with a set of keys.  In the doorway, she could see the two guards being led away, and the slave girls following.


“Only if you regard Brooklyn as a foreign country, m’am.  We got a tip off from the Long Island police when a van they were following came over here.  This crew have kidnapped a number of women over the last few months, but until we knew that had someone here we could not move in.”




“An annex of his embassy.  Did he….”


“No – no, you arrive in time,” Dorothy said as she rubbed her wrists.  “I have a friend…”


“We found her and the others.  If you’re well enough, we have ambulances waiting outside…”






“That is definitely the last time we leave you alone like that!”


It was a month later, and Dorothy had just finished telling her son and his wife about what had happened.  Sadly, the thorny problem of diplomatic immunity had prevented a trial, but a newspaper report of the return of a certain Arab prince to his country told enough.


“Oh, stop fussing,” Dorothy said as she sat down.  “I’m still alive, and worse things could happen.”


“Worse things?  Mum, you were nearly…”


“Enough!  I wasn’t and let’s be grateful for that.”


Dorothy sat back and closed her eyes.  The ordeal was over, but the dream?  That still continued, with a few new twists…