Dottie's Arabian Nightmare
As she slowly opened her eyes, Dottie was surprised to feel the cool air blowing over her face. She spent a few moments, wondering how she had ended up in this position, before remembering the game.
It had been a foolish, stupid idea really for a work “team building exercise, inviting the office staff to come as a cartoon character. She’d been watching Scooby Doo with her grandchildren, and had an old fashioned purple dress, so it was easy enough for her to come dressed as Daphne Blake, but how was she meant to know there would be a real problem?
The first she had known of the intruders was when she felt the hard leather cosh on her head, which had knocked her out for a few minutes. When she had come to that time, she had found herself tightly bound with ropes around her legs and ankles, as well as a grey scarf covering her mouth and holding in some sort of cloth. That wasn’t the real issue, however – the real issue was the fact she was also upside down, and dangling about three feet above a bubbling vat of what smelled very much to her like incredibly strong vinegar.
“Concentrated Acetic Acid – it will not kill you, merely – disfigure you, Daphne,” an electronic voice had said. Dottie had tried to turn round, but the voice was coming from an area of the room that was cast in shadow, and she had no way of seeing who it was.
“All we need you to do, Daphne, is sign this little contract – will you do that for us?” The actual thought in Dottie’s head by this time was “What the hell is going on here,” but she decided to play along for the moment, and nodded. She felt herself been swung to one side of the vat and lowered to the ground so that she lay on her side. Two men dressed from head to foot – literally – in grey came forward and helped her to her feet. “Remove her gag” the voice said, but as the scarf was untied there was a commotion. From behind her, she could hear fighting, and wondered what was going on. Eventually, the cloth was pulled out of her mouth, but before she had time to say anything a sweet smelling rag had been placed firmly over her nose and lips, and she had fallen asleep again.
“Which brings me to now,” she thought as she realised that once again she had been gagged. There was a mirror on the wall opposite, so that as her eyes came into focus she could see what her own situation was. To her great surprise, she was no longer wearing a purple dress, green scarf and blue Alice band. Instead, she was dressed as if she was in a harem, with a light purple top that was sleeveless and cut in front to show her bare waist, pants and dark purple slippers, with a long scarf tied behind her hair. To her regret, however, her arms were pinned behind her back, from the feel of it with her forearms parallel and held together with rope, while she had a dirty white scarf tied over her mouth. She could also feel rope around her ankles.
“Not again,” Dottie said to herself as the door opened and two large men came in, carrying scimitars and standing guard, “not when...”
“Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain speaking. We will shortly be landing at Bahrain International airport, so would you please...”
Dottie opened her eyes and looked over at the DVD player, where her young grandson was watching the end of the latest Scooby Doo movie. As she blinked and stretched, she remembered that she and her family were on the last stage of a flight to the holiday her son had promised - a cruise around the Arabian Sea. After the events of the last few months, he had felt it would be a good idea to get away for a few weeks, and Dottie had jumped at the chance to visit an area she had only dreamt of in the past. Of course, if her family had known what sort of dreams she was having, well...
Once the plane had landed, it took a few hours for the family to work their way through security and reach the airport, and then to rest from the long flight. Dottie could not sleep, however – she was intoxicated by the sights and sounds of the city, so much so that she decided to go out for a short walk. The dress code for the area was conservative, so she resisted the temptation to wear the strapless black dress she had bought for the cruise, instead settling for a more conservative blouse and knee length skirt.
The hotel bar was fairly busy, so as she made her way over to the counter and ordered a drink nobody noticed, least of all Dottie, as a few men brushed up against her. One in particular, a young man at about thirty years old, looked at her with an especial interest. After a few minutes, he made his way out of the public area and started to dial a number on his cell phone.
“Yes – it is Mohamed. Put me through to him.
“Your highness – it is as your agent has said. The woman called Dorothy Carr is indeed in the hotel. What would you have me do?
“I understand – it shall be done. I will contact you when I have completed the task.”
Turning the phone off, he looked round and waked casually over to the reception desk, engaging the young man there in conversation as Dottie walked past towards the lifts. Returning to her room, she changed into a loose fitting nightgown and settled down, her dreams taking her to new places...
The knock on the door woke Dottie up with a start. “Must have dosed off,” she thought to herself as the knocking started again. “I didn’t even have time to change out of the party outfit.” She looked at herself, dressed in the slave girl outfit she had bought for the occasion. A light pink silk top that covered her breasts and shoulders, loose fitting pants that were gathered around her ankles, gold Greek-style sandals with straps around her feet and a panel that zipped up the back of her ankles, and a gold headband that had a thin veil attached to it.
“All right, all right, I’m coming,” Dottie said as the knocking continued, but as she opened her bedroom door she was shocked to find two men standing there, strangers to her, who pushed her back into the room and closed the door behind them as they came in. One had short, greying brown hair and was wearing a striped top and jeans, while the other was more formally dressed.
“You are Dorothy Carr,” the smart man said, and as she nodded he turned to his companion and said “Prepare her – the sheikh waits for no-one.” Dottie was pushed face down onto the bed, as the brown haired man took a length of rope from his pocket. Holding her wrists together behind her back, he quickly tied them together, passing the rope around and between her wrist so that they were held securely.
“What’s this all about,” Dottie shouted out, “My son will hear me and come in...” “He will not,” the smartly dressed man said as his friend tied Dottie’s ankles together with more rope. “A simple sleeping draught will keep them happy for some hours yet – more than enough time to take you to your new life.”
“New life? What do you mean,” Dottie said as she was turned over and made to sit up. “You have attracted the attention of a very great man – one who wishes you to join him,” the smartly dressed man said quietly.
“no, no –NNNOOOONNNNN,” Dottie screamed as a large red ball was pushed into her mouth, her lips closing around it as the thin black strap was fastened around her head. The other man quickly lifted her and put her over his shoulder, carrying her out as she screamed for help while the other man said “Scream all you want, Mrs Carr – no-one is coming to your help, no-one...”
The alarm clock woke Dorothy with a start, as she sat bolt upright. The cold sweat on her forehead was sticky, even as she heard the family next door stirring. “Shower, change, get ready” she said t herself, wondering why she had had that dream on this particular day.
An hour or so later, Dottie turned and said “come in,” as her son knocked on the door. She changed into a black dress with a cream jacket, black patent leather shoes with three inch heels, and a string of pearls around her neck.
“Ready for breakfast,” he said, and Dottie smiled in reply. “Come on then,” he said holding the door open, “the coach to the boat leaves at two, and I thought we might have a walk round the area before then.” As they left the room, her son closing the door behind them, Dottie wondered what exactly the day would bring.
Exiting the lifts and standing there as her grandchildren ran up, none of them noticed the young man watching from the opulent recliner in the lobby area. He kept his own counsel as the family headed for the breakfast area, watching and taking careful note.
For Dottie, the site of a room filled with a mixture of people in both Arabian and Western dress was a new experience – particularly the groups of women in the full hajib covering them from head to foot. It reminded her of some of the fantasies she had had as a younger woman – of being forced to remove her clothes and parade in her underwear in front of a group of Arabian man, wondering all the time what they were going to do to her if they could have their wicked way. Her dreams had progressed since then, of course - now she wondered what they would not do to her if they were given a chance.
“Penny for them, mum,” she heard her son say, and she smiled as she looked over at him. “Sorry, miles away in a fantasy land,” she said as she took a spoonful of fruit and yoghurt into her mouth. “I can never understand why those women allow themselves to be treated as less than human by their husbands. I know there’s a cultural thing going on, but still...”
Her son looked over at her with concern. “Mum, you’re not thinking about that sheikh who kidnapped you, are you? I know he got away under diplomatic excuses, but her can’t hurt you here, you know that don’t you?”
“I know, dear,” Dottie said with a smile, “and I wasn’t thinking about him. You can’t help wondering, however, what it must be like to be under those covers. Come on – let’s eat up and go for that walk. Then tonight – tonight, we’re on the boat.”
The first night on the boat passed uneventfully –mainly because it was nearly ten by the time they sailed. After the breakfast buffet, Dottie went for a walk on the deck, breathing in the air as the clear blue water stretched out all around them. As she rounded a corner, she bumped into a tall, thin man who smiled as he stood to one side as he let her pass. Something about him caught Dottie’s interest, as if she had seen him somewhere before, but exactly where eluded her. She walked off, which meant she did not see the man from the hotel step out and talk to the thin man.
“Yes – it is her. His Excellency will be most pleased to see her.”
The cool air from the sea was floating on the decks as Dottie stepped out of the restaurant area. It was a formal evening, and as she pulled her shawl around her bare arms she leant on the railings and looked out over the dark waters. Her son and his wife had gone to see that the children were asleep, leaving her alone to enjoy the air.
“Mrs Dorothy Carr?”
Dottie turned to see the thin man from earlier that day standing next to her.
“I’m sorry, but have we been introduced,” she said as she turned to look at him, the silk of her floor length gown blowing in the light breeze.
“No,” he said as he turned and lit a cigarette, “but we have a mutual acquaintance.”
“Oh,” Dottie said, “who?”
“A certain potentate of this area – I believe you met in New York?”
Dottie stared at him, aghast as realisation dawned, before her view was blocked by a white mist as a canvas sack was roughly pulled over her head. As she felt her arms been pulled behind her, Dottie was unable to stop the material been pulled into her mouth by something on the outside, that tightened around her head as she was gagged.
“Take her to the boat,” the man said quietly. As she felt herself been lifted up, her wrists bound together, Dottie kicked out to try and stop the kidnapping. It was no sue, however, as she felt herself been carried away, and as her journey started she used one of her coping mechanisms from the past – she closed her eyes and allowed herself to be taken elsewhere...
“Remove the hood.”
Dottie blinked as the covering over her eyes was removed and she started to look around. She was in a stone room, with various manacles and chains hanging from attachments on the wall. Her clothing had been partially removed since the two men had overpowered her, so that she was standing there in a light blue bra and grey bands, her stockings still in place. Instead of her sensible shoes, however, someone had pushed her feet into a pair of shoes with six-inch stiletto heels, her soles aching in the position her feet had been forced into.
“This is Madame X and Madame Y – they will attend you today,” the voice said, and as she looked to her left and right Dottie saw the two women he referred to. Both were tall, thin, and dressed in a classic fifties style. The blonde was wearing a knee length black dress, sleeveless with slits in the skirt that revealed a lace panel and low cut at the front, and long opera gloves. She also wore a tight leather belt around her wasp like waist, which gathered the dress in.
The brunette had a cocktail dress on, the elbow length sleeves pulled down slightly off her shoulders. Both wore pearls around their necks, and similarly heeled shoes on their feet – but it was obvious they were used to wearing them.
“Where am I?” Dottie said as she looked round, but the only response was the male voice saying “Prepare her.”
The brunette walked over to Dottie, a large black ball gag in her hand, and said “Allow Madame X to prepare you as I silence you. Do nothing; say nothing, unless you are spoken to first. You may respond by saying ‘Yes, Madame’.”
Dottie’s actual response was to say “I don’t understand,” but this earned her a hard slap on her bottom from behind, before she felt rope around her wrists as they were pulled together behind her back. “What do you say?” the brunette repeated, and Dottie quietly whispered “Yes, mistress.”
“Better – now open wide,” the woman said, and as Dottie opened up she gently pushed the rubber ball between her teeth. “It will soon be natural to you,” she said as she fastened the wide leather straps with buckles behind Dottie’s head, while the woman behind her passed more rope around her ankles and pulled them together.
“Whhh,” Dottie mumbled as the brunette checked the straps, but the response was “What did I say, or do you need further chastisement?” “Wh, mstrs,” Dottie mumbled as she felt her elbows been pulled slowly together. “That is not for me, but for the master to say,” was the reply as the brunette fastened a leather collar around Dottie’s neck. “Is that not right, sir?”
“That is Correct, Madame Y,” the male voice said, and Dottie turned her head at the sound of footsteps. She saw a tall man coming towards them, dressed impeccably with a cravat around his neck and a cigarette attached to the holder he held between his fingers. “You are part of my property now, Mrs Carr, and I will treat you as I feel fit to do so. Have you finished, Madame X?”
“I have Master,” the blonde replied, and Dottie realised that her legs had also been tied together just below her knees, making it almost impossible for her to move. “Very well then – begin,” the man said. Dottie wondered what was going to happen next as a wide leather belt was placed around her waist, a metal hoop attached to the back. To her shock, a long length of rope was tied around her wrists and then flung over a beam above her by the brunette, who then pushed her upper body down before attaching the loose end to the hoop on her belt. This left Dottie benign forward, her legs stretched out under her and her bottom rather ungainly protruding behind.
“Proceed,” the man said, and before she had a chance to consider why Dottie yelped as a hard wooden bat was brought down by the blonde on her bottom. “Now your training begins,” the man said as Dottie’s arms and legs started to ache and the bat was brought down again and again...
“Ah – she awakens in time for the sunset.”
Dottie opened her eyes, wondering where she was this time and why her arms were aching so much. The air was cool, and her body felt free of clothing – which she soon realised she was, as the only thing she had on was a thin belt around her waist keeping two pieces of cloth over her crotch and bottom. As she looked round, it took her a while to realise just how serous her predicament was.
She was on the top of a cliff, hanging by her bound wrists from a beam that was protruding from a cabin. Her ankles were also bound together, while a rough cloth had been tied into her mouth. As she twisted round, she saw the thin man from the boat standing there, bedside an Arab gentlemen dressed in traditional robes.
“We have not had the pleasure of meeting before, Mrs Carr, but I believe you met my brother when he was a diplomatic attaché to our embassy in New York,” the stranger said, and the memory of her experiences when she had been kidnapped by the slavery ring came flooding back. “Do not struggle so much, my dear,” the man said, “the rocks below are quite treacherous, if the fall does not kill you first.”
As she looked down, Dottie saw the white foam as the waves crashed on the rocks. “I think you need to spend some time considering your position, Mrs Carr,” the Arab said, “while I consider whether or not to tell my brother I have you or add you to my harem. In the meantime, enjoy the view.” The two men turned and walked back into the cabin, leaving Dottie hanging there and wondering how she was going to get out of this predicament, never mind what her family must be thinking...