The Silk Buyer
By Aksinia Astakhov
Part 2
So there we were, the 3 most powerful women in the silk buying trade, business rivals, all together in one luxury air-conditioned hotel room. Two of us stood facing each other; the third, Tamara, was on her knees, tied to the bed post, and, as they say, hors de combat.
I’m average height, 5 foot somethign, and even in my stilettos Zuleykha still seemed to tower over me. With her coterie gathered around her, she had a commanding presence, but her face showed me a warm smile. Her voice was calm, assured, with an Arabic accent but her fluency in English suggested an expensive western education. She spoke with the deep tones that many Mediterranean matriarchs have.
“Honor, I have a business proposition to put to you. Come and work for me, you will be more than generously rewarded, and you and I shall rule the world of silk together. Tamara is not likely to oppose me again, so it’s just you and me.”
Her dark eyes flashed as she said this, and I saw for a moment the cold power behind them, a very tempting and seductive power. But Tamara had opposed that power, had done something to upset Zuleykha, and was now bound, gagged and misused, so my immediate reaction was to get out as fast as possible before things went too far.
I stammered as I tried to reply. “Well this is err...look I’m very grateful, err...for the offer but I really can’t....”
“You’re a very attractive woman Honor, I know that your hair is naturally blonde, that you are a size 14 UK dress size, and that you like Carine Gilson lingerie. You have taste, you are cultured, your apartment is delightful – yes, I’ve seen it, I’ve been watching you for some time now – it’s a shame that a woman of 35 should still be single. You should get out more, instead of staying at home listening to Abba and all those Euro pop CDs that you keep in the oak cabinet.”
I was shocked. How did she know all that? She smiled again, a conspiratorial smile, her eyes, half closed, the gloss on her full lips catching the candle light in the room.
“You’ve been in my apartment?” I managed to say.
“Of course. I wanted to know all about you, and now I do. So, I will ask you again, will you work for me?”
In truth I could not answer, my mind was still digesting the revelation that my home had been entered by complete strangers without my knowledge or permission. “This is not...”
She interrupted me. “You are turning me down Honor? I’m very disappointed, but under the circumstances I cannot accept no for an answer.”
She clicked her fingers, and the two men came forward and grabbed my arms whilst Shams and Badra handcuffed my wrists.
“You can’t do this” I protested, “it’s outrageous, I’ll call the police...”
“Sit down and be quiet, for your own good. For one thing, I know the Chief of Police very well, and for another, the phone is disconnected as Tamara found out earlier this evening when we came to visit her. And we have your cell phone.” An upright wooden chair was brought from the corner and placed behind me. I sat and was quiet. I’d left my clutch bag on the lounge table with the cell phone in it.
She gestured towards Tamara. “Oh, and in case you think you’re second best, let me assure you I didn’t make her any offer, I have no respect for her, unlike you. However you must understand that I am used to getting what I want, and now I’m going to leave you in the hands of my personal assistants, who will explain how things are. I will give you time to reflect, before we talk again. I will see you soon Honor.” I didn’t like the way she said ‘reflect’ but before I could respond she turned and left the room.
Shams stood in front of me, leaned close to my ear and spoke in a threatening tone. “You dress like a whore, all you western women do. So the first thing we’re going to do is teach you a lesson in proper use of the headscarf.” I briefly had time to register the irony of being told about “western women” by a woman who herself was wearing some of the finest couture that Paris or Milan might produce, before the gloved hands of one of the men forced a knotted silk scarf over my face, the large knot filling my mouth, then tied it tightly behind my head. This was quickly followed by a second scarf which covered my already stuffed mouth, thus making it pointless for me to voice any objection. I was helpless and afraid so sat very still, yielding to their indignities. I could not have guessed what they had planned. Of course some form of headscarf is seen as obligatory in most Middle Eastern states for religious reasons, but these women were far from religious.
First a net veil, made of tulle or some such fabric, went across my face, crossed over the back and the ends tied under my chin. I amazed myself that in the middle of this ordeal I was identifying fabrics. Still, I was a professional after all. Next a white scarf, probably silk, went over the top of my head, under my chin and was tied at the back of my neck. I found that focusing on the material helped me to stay calm. A third scarf, also silk, was tied over my forehead, crossed at the back, going under my chin and up and over the top of my head. All sounds were muffled now, but there was one more scarf, a long one of some heavy material, dark in colour, covering my face from nose down, and wrapped around my head, leaving just a gap for my eyes. My neck was now quite constricted, so movement was difficult, not to mention breathing.
They made me stand and walked me over to the bed although I only realised this as I was thrown face down on to it, and the two men held me there while my dress was pulled up and my knickers were pulled down, and to my horror something cold and hard was inserted into my arse, which immediately started vibrating. I was quickly flipped over and another buzzing instrument was slipped into my sex. A length of fabric was fastened around my waist and between my legs, rather tightly, so the two dildos could not come out. The men released me but the two women pounced and held me face down, one sitting on my legs, the other kneeling beside me, and both began to spank my bare arse cheeks. A hand held my face down on the bed, making breathing even more difficult, through the gag and multiple scarf layers.
The spanking went on for some minutes, and I heard laughter and snide comments although I could not make out what they were saying. The vibrators were beginning to stimulate me and I was finding it hard to resist their rhythmic movement. I was hot and sweating under the layers of fabric, my breathing was heavy through my nose since my mouth was filled, and waves of pain and pleasure crashed through my body as the slapping of by arse cheeks and the buzzing rods deep in me all worked together to make me come. I groaned helplessly as loudly as my gagging would permit, and as the ecstasy subsided I became aware of more laughter around me.
The spanking stopped and I lay there panting heavily. A cell phone rang, and one of the bodyguards answered it with a grunt. Through the layers of fabric over my ears I faintly heard him say “The transport is here”. I didn’t like the sound of this, but I was bound and gagged, and weakened from more than one orgasm, so I was utterly helpless. They began to remove the wrappings from my head, and I felt the cool air against my face, but immediately also felt a pin prick in my arm, and looking down, just managed to see a silver needle, before everything went black.
~~~~
I came too strapped to a stretcher in what looked like an ambulance. I was aware that we were moving quite quickly. Shams and Badra were there, and if I turned my head I could just about see Tamara similarly strapped down, next to me. As they noticed me moving and opening my eyes, one of them placed a mask over my face and I sensed the sweet smell of nitrous oxide, and I passed out again, hearing their laughter fading away.
~~~~
Once more I awoke, feeling groggy, but no longer moving. I was alone, in a small room furnished only with a simple bed, and a washstand with a bottle of water on it. Bright sunlight fell on the bed, thanks to a window high on the wall opposite me. I was no longer bound or gagged, but I was naked, and there was no sign of my clothes. I stood, unsteady on my feet at first, and reached for the door, only to find it had no handle on the inside. I banged on it and shouted but there was no response. In fact I could hear no sound at all. I collapsed onto the bed and wondered what was going to happen to me...
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