The Sheik and the Slave

by Italia, Nicola

  “Sir! You overstep yourself,” she said. Katharine was shocked at his outrageous behavior.

  He grinned. “Milady, I am Sheik Mohammed Aksam Al Sabid. I own more land here than in the whole of England. I have bought you and you are now part of my property, which I intend to take the greatest of care with.” He pulled her forward and his hands moved inside the robe. As the robe’s top fell around her waist, he saw that her small nipples were colored like small roses and he cupped them. They were beautifully shaped.

  Katharine was shocked at his bold touch.

  “Stop! Don’t touch me!” she said as she jerked away from him.

  “Lady, you cannot change what will occur. You will satisfy my needs and join my harem. I will enjoy your body very much,” he said, smiling.

  “You deceive yourself. The day after I become your whore, I will either kill myself or find a way to escape you. Test me if you dare,” she said, speaking to him boldly; it thrilled him beyond compare. She wasn’t afraid of him and she was majestic.

  He knew he had to have her, but did not want to break her spirit in a rape. She would hate him afterwards, and that he would not allow.

  He picked her up lightly and took her to the bed. He knelt between her slim thighs and moved the fabric up to her waist. Her pussy glistened in the light and he knew she wanted him. It was a natural act for a man and woman to come together. Men had needs and women serviced them. It was a simple thing, and the harem helped ensure that he did not put undue pressure on his wife. The harem serviced his needs and the numerous women kept him satisfied.

  “Do you want to work in the kitchens then? Or perhaps you want to become chief bather? This would be important work, helping the harem women bathe and preparing them for me,” he taunted her. As he spoke, his fingers moved into her tight, slick pussy and she arched into him. She couldn’t help herself. Her head was swimming.

  She was spinning out of control and the emotions were tumbling onto her. No one had ever touched her like this and she was on fire, with pinpricks hitting behind her eyes. She knew it would be easy to give into him, but she couldn’t. She couldn’t give into him or show any weakness.

  “Send me to the harem. I’d rather be a slave than your whore,” she told him coldly and breathlessly, trying to stem the emotions she felt.

  Mohammed went still and his body tensed. She is a little falcon with talons and an iron will, he thought.

  “So be it,” he said. He looked down at her and then moved away from her. He clapped his hands twice.

  Two eunuchs appeared and bowed slightly to Mohammed. “Send the princess here to the harem. She is to be the new bather. Tell this to Bashasha.”

  Mohammed grimaced as he watched her leave his bed, still a virgin.

  “Send Farasha to me,” he said as they left with Katharine.

  Katharine shivered as she walked down the corridors with the eunuchs. She had been close to giving in to the sheik. She had wanted him and though she was a lady and an Englishwoman, she had been willing to forget it all. I must be mad, she thought. In a foreign land, a prisoner and a slave, and she had been ready to give in at the first moment alone with him. I must remember who I am and never give in to him, she thought. I must find a way to get back home.

  ***

  Alone, Mohammed grinded his teeth. He had learned the foreign English tongue for business and didn’t enjoy it. It was a foreign, harsh tongue that stuck in the mouth and stayed there like sour dates. Unlike Arabic, his beautiful, lyrical mother’s tongue, English was a harsh language.

  But that was before he had met the princess, the beauty who spoke English and communicated through it. He wanted her. His cock was still stretched and lengthened, ready for the tight passage that she had been ready to give him. She was a willful woman, used to men fawning around her, and probably held the upper hand with most men. It would not be so with him. Let her stew in the harem as a bather, he thought. She would be his soon enough.

  Farasha sauntered into the room, stripping away her clothes as she walked. She was slender with small breasts and hips, long black hair and a red mouth. She had almost black nipples on her breasts and she loved to bend over and take his cock up the ass.

  “My lord,” Farasha said in Arabic as she leaned over the bed and beckoned him.

  His cock plunged into the tight asshole as Farasha groaned and thrust her hips back to him.

  “Harder, my lord. Harder, please,” she murmured lightly in Arabic as not to offend him. Even in the midst of sex, the harem women were appropriate in word and action unless otherwise asked. Always respectful, they wanted only to serve the sheik.

  Just as Farasha’s small asshole tightened around his cock, he thought suddenly of a small, alabaster ass with long legs and blonde hair falling down the back. He would wrap the blonde hair around his hand as he jerked her head up. Her pussy would drip and cling tightly to his cock. He groaned as he spilled his cream inside the Arabian girl’s ass thinking of the English girl. Soon, he would have the proud English girl. Soon.

  Chapter 2

  Katharine loathed the harem. She hated the Arabian land and its forsaken sand. She despised the food that consisted largely of lamb and chicken and a thick milky substance they enjoyed as well as rice and wheat. The harsh Arabic language was guttural and though she began to pick up several words and phrases, she did not want the harem women to know this. Her ability to quickly grasp languages came to her aid, but she did not enjoy learning the language. She contemplated her escape daily.

  Most of all, she hated him. She detested his very existence and tried to stay away from him and never be in his presence. Soon, a month passed since she had first entered the palace.

  She learned her job in the harem with the help of Bashasha, who was kind to her. She bathed, massaged, and pampered the women of the harem and thought of little but her escape. Most of the other women suffered under Yasmeen’s hateful glare and abuse, but Kat escaped such treatment. It was common knowledge that she did not share the sheik’s bed, so she was not a threat to Yasmeen.

  The women viewed her as a foreigner and none associated with her. She had denied an easy life for the sake of a servant’s life and none could understand her. She dreamed of England with its green hills, wintry nights, and her father’s love. She missed her friends and her family, and wondered if she would see any of them again.

  She bathed and massaged Gameela, who was one of the sheik’s favorites. She was a slender woman with small breasts and hips; she loved to pleasure him with her mouth and swallow his essence. She spoke a broken English that she had learned from the sheik himself. It was rumored that she might be the second wife to the sheik, but Bashasha dismissed this as mere gossip.

  “You are silly woman,” Gameela spoke to Katharine.

  “Indeed?” The flimsy garments Kat was forced to wear revealed more than concealed, and the loose pantaloons and sheer garments that covered her breasts were a pale pink, which made her seem even more pale and blonde. Tiny bells encircled her ankles and marked her as property. His property.

  Katharine dipped her hands into the scented oil and massaged Gameela’s long legs. She kneaded the flesh and stopped right before the young woman’s bottom.

  “The sheik is great man and lover,” Gameela continued.

  Katharine ignored her words and moved to massage her arms, neck, and hands. She thought of England and London as the other harem women talked in small groups inside the harem. A few women were in the pool bathing and the sky shone through the windows in the ceiling, making the water warm and comfortable.

  A eunuch passed by, deep in talk with Bashasha, and she smiled lightly at Katharine, who smiled back and nodded.

  Katharine wondered not for the last time about her home. What time of day was it in England? What was her father doing? Was he worried about her? Did her mother care? Had anyone told her mother? Of course they would have once Sarah had returned home to the townhouse without her sister-in-law. What was Francie doing? Were her sisters
and Charles well? She wondered if Sarah was pregnant yet. Did the world move on without her? Did anyone miss her?

  Katharine finished the massage as Bashasha approached them and said, “Go, Gameela. Return to the sheik’s room in one hour to retrieve her, Katharine.”

  “Yes, Bashasha,” Katharine said as she watched Gameela slink down the hallway. Kat returned to the inner sanctum of the harem.

  The harem was beautifully decorated in tiles of aqua, green and yellow. A large pool dominated the center, with the skylight shining into the pool to warm it. The room was pleasing and cool to the eye, with two stories and several private rooms where the women rested on the second floor. Harem women were not the only ones who spent time in the rooms. Mohammed’s mother and sisters visited and gossiped in the room, as well as the eunuchs who escorted the women throughout the palace grounds.

  Large native plants were situated throughout the harem, including several date trees. There was a small area for musicians to set up and a little stage for dancing when it was requested. Several harem women were gifted dancers, and Mohammed would have them dance when visitors came to his palace.

  “You make things very hard on yourself, little one,” Bashasha said quietly.

  “Because I don’t whore for him?” Katharine asked. She almost kicked a small vase as she turned a corner, with the older women falling close behind her.

  “You could be mistress of this all. I have seen the way he looks at you, Lady Katharine,” Bashasha whispered to her.

  “I won’t whore for him. I want to return home. How long before he lets me go?” Katharine asked and stalked to the corner, where her small mass of pillows and bedcovers lay. She wasn’t allowed a room and bathed in public. She was reduced to a servant’s life. She lived a solitary life and only allowed Bashasha near her.

  “You only make things more difficult for yourself,” Bashasha said, and then she left the young beauty alone.

  ***

  “My lord,” Gameela spoke sweetly to Mohammed as he watched her approach.

  “Gameela,” he replied. Mohammed watched her strip in front of him. Her small breasts bounced lightly as she walked to him. Her hips were slim but they didn’t curve out as the little white witch’s did. He closed his eyes and saw the blonde hair falling down her back and the sea blue eyes. He wanted the little blonde. His cock hardened at the thought of her.

  Gameela smiled as she watched him harden and felt certain he would take her as his second wife. Her tiny nipples twisted into tight buds as she sat before him.

  He watched as she settled herself on the pillows before him and her little fingers tugged at her nipples. The brown buds puckered and she lifted one to her lips, twirling her tongue around it.

  Mohammed watched as she put her small fingers into her tight little cunt. She was one of his favorites for many reasons. She swallowed his manhood and seed, for one. Also, her little pussy was tight and responsive; it constricted when he was inside her, and the walls were delicious. She had learned well the art of tightening herself when he was inside. Her hair fell about her waist and he touched the long strands.

  He watched her small fingers encircle her little snatch and enter it. She was dripping wet and her hairless pussy glistened as he admired the lips of her vagina.

  Gameela watched his cock lengthen as the blood poured into it. His cock was magnificent and Gameela loved being called to serve him. She hated the thought of the other harem women having him, but such was the way of men and women. A man could serve many women and impregnate many women – not the other way around.

  She moved to him and brushed her hair across his cock. Her fingertips moved lightly along his shaft. When he made no move towards her, she leaned forward and touched her lips to the pink head. It jerked in reflex and she enveloped it with her lips. Her tongue swirled around the cock’s head and down the shaft and she moved along its length. It thickened and filled her throat.

  His hands touched her head and urged her down the entire length. He leaned back and groaned. Gameela smiled as she continued to suck him.

  ***

  Bashasha returned to where Katharine slept and woke her.

  “It is time to retrieve Gameela,” she said.

  Katharine awoke in the midst of a wonderful dream, in which she had been walking through the vast gardens that surrounded her home and her father had been calling to her from across the green. He was warm and loving as he smiled to her, but now she awoke to a hot, foreign world. Her cheeks were flushed as she adjusted her clothing to try and hide her curves and breasts in the almost see-through fabric. She felt naked without the tight corset she was so accustomed to.

  “Why does he ask me to go get the women? It was always the eunuchs before I came,” she asked Bashasha.

  As a virgin, she felt cheapened and dirty as she went to retrieve the sated-looking women in a room smelling of sex and semen, and feeling those dark, hooded eyes on her whenever she appeared to him.

  “Silly child. Don’t ask foolish questions,” Bashasha admonished her.

  “No!” Katharine whirled around to face the small woman. “Why? Why do I have to go to fetch the women? Why me?”

  Bashasha pulled the beautiful blonde with her as she neared the door.

  “Bah! You know why,” she replied.

  “No I don’t know. Why?” She waited for the harem mistress to answer.

  “He summons you to see you. To watch you and undress you with his eyes. To bring you to heel so that you can see the woman he has just made love to. You know why, little one,” she spoke quietly, pushing her into the corridor.

  Katharine knew it was true. He was always watching her with those dark eyes. Her scant clothes provided little protection as he probed her body and longed to take away her innocence.

  Gameela arched her back as his cock sank into her. She gasped at the largeness of him. He pulled her firmly onto his cock as it penetrated deep into her body. Katharine walked into the room and waited behind the latticed screen for Gameela. The long flaps of curtain were silent, as she had made her way into the interior of his private room.

  Katharine watched with large eyes as Gameela rode the sheik. From where she was standing, she could only see the woman’s small brown ass and her long dark hair falling down her back. The sheik was lying beneath her but to the right of Gameela so when Katharine entered, he saw her. His hands gripped Gameela tighter and as he plunged into the woman, but his eyes were on Katharine.

  Katharine locked eyes with him, even as he performed this most intimate act with another woman. Just as his cock remained inside Gameela, his thoughts and his mind were with Katharine. He wanted the blonde’s tiny pussy surrounding his cock. He wanted her bouncing on top of him and climaxing on his cock.

  Katharine could not look away as he pulled back and Gameela immediately withdrew to her knees. She took him in her mouth and tasted her saltiness on him. The sheik’s hand splayed in her hair as his eyes stayed on Katharine. His dark eyes watched the blonde in the shadows as the dark-haired girl’s mouth took his cock. Katharine blushed pink in the dark.

  Katharine watched the sheik with Gameela and suddenly couldn’t help herself. Her hand moved into her loose fitting pants and her small finger delved past the tiny curls and into her tight, wet pussy. She was wet and wanted him. She knew it was wrong, and knew she shouldn’t give in to this madness. She was ashamed of herself and abruptly she pulled her hand away, but it was too late.

  He had seen her touch herself and he quickly emptied his seed into Gameela’s warm mouth. Gameela swallowed delicately and left quietly.

  Gameela did not wait to walk back with Katharine, sensing something in the air between them.

  “Come here, princess,” Mohammed said to Katharine.

  Katharine lowered her eyes in shame. She should never have done such a rash thing. She didn’t want to be near him and she hated it when he called her princess, mocking her past life and position.

  She could not run. What would be the silly p
oint of that? He would only have her brought back. Until I find a way to escape, she thought, I must bear his existence.

  His dark eyes devoured her as she came close, and his dark skin glistened with sweat.

  “I’ve asked you not to call me that,” she told him sullenly.

  Mohammed grinned. “Lie back upon the pillows here with me,” he said. He remained seated and at ease, his manhood growing hard again as he watched her.

  “No,” she said. She bit her lip to stop from arguing with him.

  “Now,” he commanded. He never argued with her. He side-swiped her disagreements and told her the same thing in another way.

  Katharine looked at him angrily and lay back upon the pillows. Her blonde hair sparkled against the dark, embroidered pillows.

  “I don’t love you. I don’t even like you,” she whispered to him, but she couldn’t look at him.

  “This matters? Your body was made to receive a man and bear children. What is love and like?” Mohammed asked. He admired her elegantly-shaped face with its high cheekbones and lush lips.

  His hand touched her breasts and her small nipples, and they tightened in response. She could not hide the evidence of her arousal.

  She turned her head to the side, away from his eyes and touch.

  “How could you understand?” she asked him.

  Mohammed’s long brown finger touched her nipple and Katharine gasped.

  “Your body does not know love, like, hate, lust. It wants to be sated. Your body needs what I can give you,” he continued. His hand moved lower and covered her small mound. It was warm and wet; when he moved his hand against her, she arched her back, not realizing it.

  His cock bounced at the thought of her little pussy tight and surrounding him. He had to have her. Mohammed straddled her hips and looked down at her.

  “A sheik in the next village came to see me today,” he said.

  Katharine kept her face away from his. If he was going to rape her, he would get no response from her.