Chapter 32: The Reporter Leaves

The next morning, the Emir visited her again and was pleased to see that she had not been moved from the whipping bench and the blue and purple colour of her flesh showed that there was no part of her anatomy from her heels to the back of her neck which had escaped the whipping, and yet the skin had not been broken. She was asleep, in what seemed to be a perfectly normal sleep, so he woke her with a brisk slap on the left buttock. She screamed awake most satisfactorily.

"Please, no more," she sobbed, "I can't stand any more."

"We'll start by taking this out," said the Emir, removing the pear from her anus, "and then we'll release you. I don't want you to stand up yet. Just stay lying there when the cuffs are removed."

Tiggs lay quite still, although the eunuchs had freed her wrists and ankles.

"Good," said the Emir, "Now I think I'll try that rectum again. Please spread your buttocks yourself, so that I can get into your arse."

Unhesitatingly she reached back and gingerly spread her buttocks to show a very dilated sphincter indeed.

"No, it's too large," joked the Emir, "I can see your tonsils from here."

He swept out of the room and she was lifted by two eunuchs and helped into the small infirmary where she was bathed and treated for her injuries by skilled medical staff. When they had done all they could for her she was bundled into and abaya and driven to another, much less well-appointed building.

"Ambassador," said the United States Commercial Chargé d'Affaires, "We have a problem. Tiggs Boush has..."

"No. That's all I need. What has the silly bitch done now?" sighed the Ambassador.

"She went to the Golden Palace yesterday, sir," continued the Chargé d'Affaires, "with an appointment to interview the Emir. When the driver returned to collect her he was told she had already left."

"What did their people say?"

"Their Foreign Advisor, that Ghada Baroud, said she had interviewed the Emir and that he was asked to find a seat on the next flight home for her. He also said he had arranged it and he can prove she has gone."

"Better go over there and see someone, I suppose," said the Ambassador.

"When shall I arrange an appointment?" asked his junior.

"When you like," was the curt reply, "You can go. I'm not lifting a finger for that little cow, not even if they are selling her in the public square for a dollar an hour."

The Chargé d'Affaires made suitable inquiries and was shown the duly completed exit documents and manifests and used ticket coupons to prove that she had flown to Dubai for an onward connection to New York. He was also asked to pay for those tickets and replied that he would have to consult his Ambassador first. When she did not appear in New York and the editor of her paper started making inquiries at the State Department as to her whereabouts, the Ambassador wearily agreed to visit the Emir personally and ask him to help get to the bottom of this mystery. The following morning the Ambassador duly arrived at the Golden Palace and was made to wait for three hours for an interview. Even then it was Ghada Baroud who appeared to talk to him. Of the Emir there was no sign