'She's wet herself,' Juan said, as if Chico hadn't already noticed the dark stain about twelve inches below his hands. He moved round and panned down with his phone, then back up to her breasts.

Chico let go of her nipple and threw the secateurs back on the table in disgust.

'Jesus Christ, you two,' he shouted, 'how am I supposed to do this with you interrupting me every two seconds? I feel like somebody's picked me up and dropped me in the middle of a kindergarten. You'll be asking if I can hold your little peepee while you go weewee next.'

Juan stopped the video, a look of disappointment on his face. He tried to delete what he'd already taken and ended up deleting a whole bunch of other stuff. José looked at his feet and said nothing.

'I think we need to just get right down to it,' Chico said. 'She's not going to tell us anything if we keep fooling around like this.'

Ellie couldn't believe what the maniac was saying. If they'd just get the gag out of her mouth she'd tell them anything they wanted to know. How the hell was she supposed to tell them anything? She nodded her head violently up and down, desperately trying to make eye contact with him so he could see her desire to do whatever he wanted.

But he wasn't looking at her—he was looking down at the table next to her. Looking at the knife. Making up his mind. How did he expect her to tell him what he wanted if he wouldn't take the gag out of her mouth?

'Do you like movies?' he said.

She nodded, her head in a floaty sort of daze at the bizarre twists and turns of his mind.

'I've got something of an obsession about them, myself,' he said, sounding like he was about to tell her a bedtime story. 'It goes back to when I was a young man. Maybe I'll tell you all about it one day. I could tell you now, if you like?'

He looked at her as if he was expecting an answer. He raised both eyebrows expectantly and then shook his head.

'No, maybe another time. I should probably go for counselling and all that psycho-babble.'

Tell the guy to book you a double session, in fact make it the whole damn day, she thought.

He picked up the knife and felt the tip with his thumb. A bright red prick of blood appeared. He wiped it on his pants leg.

'How old are you? Twenty-eight? Twenty-nine?'

She nodded.

'Then you weren't even born in 1970 were you?'

She shook her head.

'That was the year the movie Soldier Blue came out. Maybe you've seen it?'

She shook her head again.

'I wouldn't bother,' he said. 'It's very dated now, but at the time they called it the most savage film ever. The thing is, you young people have such high expectations nowadays, you'd probably think it was quite tame. But I remember it well.'

He pricked the end of his thumb again. Another bright spot of blood appeared and he wiped it gently on her breast, starting at her collarbone and running all the way down to her nipple in a wavy line. She shuddered and the whole body tremble that had momentarily subsided started up again.

'There's this scene,' he carried on, 'where the soldiers attack an Indian village. Revenge for something or the other, it doesn't matter. And the soldiers do all kinds of dreadful things, raping and killing and all the rest of it. Kids getting trampled by the horses. One woman gets her head chopped right off by a soldier's sword.'

Ellie looked at him in horror. His eyes had glazed over; he seemed to be in a dream, re-living the movie in his mind.

'But there's this one part in amongst all the killing and everything else that really sticks in my mind.'

He seemed to snap out of his reverie and looked directly at her. Maybe to make sure that she was giving his story her full attention.

'One of the soldiers gets hold of an Indian woman—and she's naked of course—and he wrestles her to the ground . . . and then . . . he slices off one of her breasts with a knife. A long curved knife, just like this one.' He sliced at the air in front of her eyes with the knife as if cutting off an imaginary Indian’s breast.

'You might not think it's much, but it was really shocking at the time.'

She didn't know whether she wanted to cry or scream or laugh at this madman. What the hell was he going on about? She might not think it was much? It sounded a pretty big deal to her right now.

'José, slacken off the rope,' Chico called. 'I'll never get a proper grip on her tits while they're stretched almost flat like this.'

José let about a foot out and her arms dropped, mercifully relieving the screaming ache in them. But her breasts dropped back into place as Chico predicted, giving him plenty to get hold of. He pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and bent forward and dabbed her dry.

'Won't get a good grip if they're all slippy either,' he said.

Almost gently he took hold of one of them and lifted it slightly, exposing the pale underside but not stretching it flat like it had been before. He put the tip of the knife in the crease where it met her rib cage and pushed gently. She felt a sharp prick of pain. She closed her eyes and felt the tears start, stinging the back of her eyes.

'I can do this nice and quick or slow and careful. You decide,' he said, pushing again with the tip of the knife, harder this time, breaking the skin. He squeezed her breast hard digging his nails into the soft flesh.

Uncontrollable sobs wracked her whole body. Hot, salty tears ran down her cheeks and dripped off her chin onto the top of the breast he was holding up. Her nose was starting to block up with snot and soon she wouldn't be able to breath. She'd suffocate if they didn't get the gag out of her mouth soon.

'What's it gonna be, Ellie? How about a foxtrot? Slow, slow, quick, quick, slow . . . slow, slow, quick, quick, slow . . .'

Juan circled the stool, his camera extended towards her, his tongue in the corner of his mouth in concentration.

'A crying shame to cut off such a lovely thing,' Chico said, working the tip of the knife into her flesh.

'Don't worry, she's got another one,' Juan said and everybody laughed. Except Ellie of course.

Chico let out a short, playful laugh and gave a quick flick of his wrist. The blade opened up a three inch cut on the underside of her breast faster than the eye could follow. Ellie screamed behind the gag and started choking. She couldn't get enough air through her nose. He pulled the knife away, let go of her breast and dropped the knife back on the table. She looked down and watched the blood pouring down her stomach from the stinging cut, soaking into the waistband of her jeans, mingling with the piss and the sweat and God knows what else. Anybody sniffing her snatch blindfolded would have concluded she'd had one, seriously bad day.

Juan ducked and dived around Chico with his camera trying to get the best view.

'It's just a scratch,' Chico said and clamped his hand over her mouth and nose. She bucked wildly against his hand but it was like bucking against a brick wall as it fell on top of her. He put his other hand around her throat and pulled her tightly into his body. He heard and felt her gagging noisily in his hands, remembered as if it were only yesterday the dreadful sounds of his father choking to death on his shoulders in the desert, and when he felt the thrashing start to subside, thought enough's enough and pulled his hand away, ripping the rag out of her mouth as he did so.

She heaved in a great lungful of air and started coughing and choking. Chico gestured at José who let the rope go completely and her arms dropped like stones. Her whole body crumpled and she folded in two at the waist, her whole body heaving and shaking.

Chico looked down at her sweat-soaked back, breathed in the acrid smell of fear rising from her armpits and left her like that for a minute. Then he grabbed a handful of her hair as best he could after the mess Juan had made and pulled her back into a sitting position.