Dottie's Arabian Nightmare - Part 2
As she allowed her robe to fall to the floor, Dottie realised that she had not even asked him his name yet. This was an unusual thing for her, but his magnetism had been so overpowering, she felt she had to do everything that he told her to.
They had met in a bar near the hotel she was staying in – she in a skirt and jacket, he a big, hulking African-American in a smart suit. They had talked, shared a few drinks, and then he had offered to escort her back to her room. It would have been impolite to refuse such a gentlemanly offer, so Dottie had agreed. As they walked down the road, she could feel him getting closer and closer to her, and she wanted it to be that way.
Indeed, as he reached up under her skirt and began to slip his hand under her knickers, in full view of everyone, she had smiled rather than objected. She was flattered, and if she was been honest with herself she was enjoying the feeling as he massaged her buttocks. “Why don’t you invite me to your room,” he had whispered into her ear, and she had agreed to what now looked like a rather alarming request.
That had been ten minutes ago, and now she watched him walking into the room from the bathroom, his towel dropping to the floor. She looked down, then up again into his face as he took hold of her naked body and drew it close to his.
“You will do whatever I tell you, won’t you?” he said, and as he held her close to his cool skin, her body moving in rhythm with his. “I will be your master, and you will be my slave, do you understand?”
“Yes, Master,” Dottie breathed as he held her still closer, the feeling against her crotch growing stronger and harder, more pulsating and throbbing as she grew moister. “Good, slave, then do not move and do as I tell you,” he whispered in his deep, measured tones as her breathing became faster, more rapid, more intense...
“Ah, I see out guest awakens – no doubt from a most pleasant dream.”
Dottie blinked as her eyes slowly opened. She was on her back on a long recliner, but her arms were still pinned above her head and ached almost as much as when she had been left swinging...
Her situation came back to her in a flash, and she looked over at the man sitting there. She recognised him as the man in Arab robes from the previous evening, but now he was dressed in a more Western style, with an open necked shirt and slacks. She opened her mouth to try to speak, only to realise at last that the cloth was still tied in place.
“I decided it was too cruel to leave so lovely a woman outside all night, but by the time my servants had fetched you in you had fallen into a deep sleep,” the man said as Dottie slowly brought her arms over her head and saw the rough rope holding her wrist together. “I will have my ladies cleanse and clothe you,” he said as he walked towards the door of the room, “and then we will talk.” Clapping his hands twice, he stood to one side as four women, dressed in pantaloons and short tops with veils over their faces, came in. “Until then, Mrs Carr,” he said as he left her to their ministrations.
They helped Dottie to sit up, gently removing the ropes that held her wrists and ankles and easing the saliva soaked cloth from between her lips. As she moved her jaw to ease the pain, they helped her to stand and walk towards a bath from which sweet and pungent aromas were wafting towards them.
“Where am I?” Dottie asked as she was helped to step into the warm water, but there was no response. Instead, two of the veiled woman began to wash her down as the other two combed and tended to her hair. Realising she was not likely to get a response from them, Dottie looked round the room, taking in the barred windows and the two guards standing...
With a jolt, Dottie realised that one of the men standing at the door was the one she had seen in her dreams. He stared straight ahead, offering no response to her gasp, but she began to wonder if she had somehow seen him before and used him as a focal point for her own escape. Instead, she closed her eyes and allowed herself to slip into another dream as she was tended to...
They dropped her to the floor with a thump, and Dottie could not stop herself from trying to complain. Not that she could say much anyway, not with the thick rag stuffed into her mouth and the layers of white tape that covered her lower jaw. As she watched the two men searching her front room, she took time out to reflect on how she had got there.
When she had left work, her big intention was to get home and enjoy some time by herself. The click foe hr heels as she walked across the car park was the only sound she heard until she reached the car – and then there were hurried footsteps behind her. She caught a glimpse of a large black man in the wing mirror before the sweet smelling cloth had been placed firmly over her nose and mouth, and from then until she had woken up in the back of the van it had all been a blur.
There had been someone in the back of her van with her, guarding her, as well as a driver, so there must have been two of them. While she had been asleep, they had firmly bound her wrists together behind her back as well as pulling her elbows together, before wrapping rope around her arms and chest. The front of her dark jacket had come undone at some point, so that combined with the tight ropes her light pink bra had been the first thing she had seen as she looked down.
The second thing had been that they had removed her skirt, which she could see to one side with her heels tossed on top of it. Her ankles were crossed and lashed together, the rope going around and between her legs and over her stockings. The pulling on her lower jaw had informed her of the tape – this had happened once too often for her liking, but she had learned to relax and see what happened next.
They had taken her home, carried her in and dropped her on the floor, her shoes and skirt tossed down beside her, and they seemed to be looking for something. What Dottie wasn’t sure, but at any rate they were getting more agitated, and she was not sure what they were going to do next. One was short, stocky with red hair, while the black man was large, well built and to Dottie strangely familiar. It was him who came over and roughly pulled the tape away from her mouth, waiting as she spat out the cloth.
“Where is it?”
“The Anderson file – where is it?”
“With the FBI – they took it yesterday.”
He turned and looked at the other man, who cursed under his breath. “Well, we need something from today – and she’ll do nicely,” he eventually said. “I’m going to make some phone calls – get her ready.”
“Ready for what?” Dottie asked as the black man reached behind her and started to untie the ropes around her arms.
“You’ll see,” he said with a smile, and Dottie began to wonder if for once she was going to be left alone. That hope was soon dashed as the black man stood up, took a large knife from somewhere behind him and started to cut the jacket she was wearing off her upper body. As the dark material fell to the side, eh took a length FO rope and used to bind her arms back against her chest, this time wrapping the rope around her neck and shoulders to hold them in place. He then secured her legs together above her knees with one more length, before standing up and leaving her there.
“Please, won’t you tell me what’s happening,” Dottie called out as the red haired man came back in. “I’ll tell you, sweetheart,” he said as he squatted in front of her. “You’re going to earn us our lost fee, and if you don’t shut up then I’ll make sure you shut up.” As he said this, he pointed a large pistol directly at Dottie. “Understand?”
She was frightened, but Dottie could not help feeling slightly excited, invigorated by her situation. “I understand,” she said quietly, “But what happens while we wait?”
“Whatever you want to, my dear Mrs Carr?” the black man said as he came back in. “Why should you not enjoy your time with us?” Dottie could not help the smile that started to appear on her lips, even as she was terrified by the gun the other man was holding.
“Try me,” she said as the black man walked forward, removing the belt from his trousers as he...
“Please, stand up and step up.”
Dottie opened her eyes to see the guard she had recognised standing in front of her, as the maidens held a robe for her to don. “Dress her and bring her to the master,” he ordered as he turned and left the room.
“Who is that man,” she whispered to one of the women as the other guards left.
“He is Nelson, the head of Security,” she whispered through her chiffon veil, “and he treats us women with respect, unlike the others. Come, Mrs Carr – it does not do to keep the Sheikh waiting.”
“Ah, our guest joins us – and in raiment befitting her looks.”
Dottie blushed as she was led into the large open room, looking round at the large chairs and couches with their silken covers and velvet pillows. At one end on a raised dais sat the sheikh, with Nelson standing behind him, his eyes staring straight ahead.
Dottie was wearing a floor length white silk dress, split at both sides with gold rings at each hem. The top came over one shoulder, with thin straps that expanded to cover her chest and a silver clasp at the side. Her hair had been cleaned, and she stood with her hands in front FO her as the cool breeze came through the stone openings.
“Do I have the right to know who had taken me in this way,” she asked as she looked at the two men. The sheikh sat there, considering her words before replying “Not really, no – you almost had my brother jailed, and that should be sufficient for you.”
“What about my family – they will be searching for me you know.”
“No doubt – but they will not find you here. Tell me, Mrs Carr, how do you like your robe?”
“The dress is beautiful, and fits perfectly – why?”
“We had it made especially for you, but I do not believe it shows your arms off to the best advantage. Gentlemen?”
Dottie was surprised to find her arms grabbed from behind by two men. As one brought them forward and held her wrist together, the other quickly and firmly bound them with soft white rope, before the two led Dottie over to an archway which had a large hook embedded in the roof. The rope was thrown over and pulled up so that Dottie found herself hanging again by her arms, this time with her feet just off the floor. As one secured the length of rope somewhere on the other side of the wall, the other man took her ankles and lashed them together, the toes of her slippers pointing towards the flagstones.
“Please,” Dottie said as she hung there, turning slightly in the breeze, “you don’t have to do this, I’ll do whatever you want.”
“I’m sure you will,” the Arab said as he stood up and walked down, standing in front of Dottie, “but first you have to be trained – and something tells me you are very used to restraints. This has happened many times before, Mrs Carr, has it not?”
Dottie nodded as he slowly turned her round. “Tell me a story, Mrs Carr – when was the first time you were bound in such a way that you were unable to seek help? I would be very interested to know.”
“Many years ago – when my husband was still alive. He had gone out for the evening, leaving me alone in the house...”
“We return you now to Hill Street Blues.”
It was when the commercials ended that she heard the noise in the kitchen. At first, Dottie thought it was just the cat, but when she looked down and saw her curled up on the mat in front FO the fire she realised that was not likely. She stood up, brushed the crumbs off her brown v-necked sweater and made her way down the corridor.
“Are you back early, love?” she called out, but the rough hand that was clamped over her mouth, and the powerful arm that held her arm, were definitely not her husband’s.
“Keep quiet and I won’t hurt you,” a male voice with a southern accent said, and Dottie whimpered as she nodded. “Good,” the man said as he turned her round and pinned her against the wall. Hew as in his early forties, with sandy hair and wearing a light grey shirt and jeans.
“Look, all I want are your valuables, and then I’ll go. Are you going to give me any trouble?”
“No,” she whispered in fear. She had no idea who this man was, or what his intentions were.
“I’m sorry about this,” he said as he looked at Dottie, “but I need to make sure you don’t get in my way. In here.”
He pushed open the door to the dining room, dragging Dottie in with him and forcing her to lie face down on the table. “Put your hands behind your back,” he said, and as Dottie did so she heard a ripping sound. Looking over her shoulder, she saw the man ripping the end of a roll of black tape free, before he leaned over and grabbed her wrist. “Stay still,” he said as he laid the end against her skin and started to wrap the tape around her wrists, holding them firmly together. As the ripping continued, Dottie could feel the restriction on her arms growing tighter and tighter, but there was something more than fear going on. As she lay there, listening and wondering as he started to tape he rankles together over her jeans, she thought back to all those girl detective novels she had read when she was little girl.
The minutes passed, and she had felt the tape going around her legs as well before he stood up. “So, where do you keep your jewellery,” he said as he pulled Dottie upright.
“Upstairs, in my bedroom,” she said in a quiet voice. “Please, don’t hurt me anymore, I’ll do whatever you say.”
“I know you will,” he said as he put the roll of tape in his pocket. “I just need to make sure I can keep an eye on you.”
With a fluid motion, he Lifted Dottie onto his shoulder, her face looking to the ceiling, and placed one hand between her legs. As he started to carry her out of the room, the motion of his hand made Dottie feel excited, warm, aroused, and terrified all at the same time. This continued as he climbed the stairs, taking her to the bedroom...
“So, you feel aroused by this,” the man said as he stopped Dottie. “You get pleasure from this happening to you.”
“I have dreams,” Dottie replied as she stared at him, “but reality is far more terrifying. All he did was gag me and left me there while he robbed me, and that was more than enough excitement.”
“I think you get more from this than you are saying, my dear Mrs Carr,” the man cooed a she reached up and caressed her breasts. Dottie struggled to stop the feeling that was beginning to build in her, before doing something she knew she was going to regret. The alternative, however, was something she did not want to happen, so she summoned up both courage and spittle before letting both out in the direction of her captor.
“You will regret that, Mrs Carr – I fear I must have you kept elsewhere while I make a decision. Nelson!”
The large black man stepped forward, summoning the other two to join him.
“Ensure Mrs Carr has an unpleasant night,” the sheikh said as he walked out. “You heard the master,” Nelson said in a deep voice as the other two released Dottie. “Take her to the hanging gardens.”
“I know he said the hanging gardens, but this is ridiculous,” Dottie thought as she stared out over the sea again. She had been stripped, with only a cloth covering the area between her legs, and bound to a beam of wood that held her arms up above her head. The beam actually formed part of a crucifix, with her ankles bound and held to the other beam as they rested on a platform. She ached, taking each breath slowly.
“When am I going to learn to keep my big mouth shut?” she screamed in frustration as the cool wind blew in from the sea.
“I don’t know, Dorothy Carr, when are you going to?”
She turned her head and looked down to see Nelson standing there, watching her.
“What interest is what I think to you?” Dottie shouted down with a sneer.
“Because,” Nelson said as he looked up, “If you don’t stop annoying him, you’re going to die tomorrow – and what sort of a CIA agent would I be if I allowed the woman I am meant to be protecting to die on my watch?”
Dottie looked up at the setting sun, before looking down again. “What did you just say?”
“I’m telling you to be quiet, and let me get you out of this. Endure a little while longer, Dottie – help is on the way.”