The Sheik and the Slave

by Italia, Nicola

  A voice with a strange foreign accent answered her plea.

  “Lady, you are in for a long journey. No one can hear you now. No one can save you.”

  Katharine sank onto the hard wooden floor. Dear God! Where was she going? What would happen to her? She placed a hand over her mouth to stifle the sob.

  ***

  Mohammed laced his hands behind his head as Nahweh from West Africa’s mouth descended upon his hard cock. She bobbed up and down and he watched, fascinated, as her dark lips encircled his cock. His hips thrust forward and the young girl gagged slightly and continued. He was about to climax when Yasmeen walked into his private bedchamber.

  “Be gone, whore,” Yasmeen said. She slapped the girl’s dark ass and Nahweh leapt from the bed and away from the couple.

  Mohammed watched his wife as she circled the bed. He knew she ruled harem with an iron fist, partly from jealousy, but also because she hated the harem women and their place in his bed. She had a great need to prove that she was the wife over the harem women. Even the beautiful and benevolent Tuya, Mohammed’s mother, had accepted the harem and seemed to understand that a man had needs much more so than a woman.

  “Careful, woman,” he told her, remaining where he had been, with his cock still throbbing hard and the girl’s spit still on it.

  “You are no better than the whores that serve you, husband,” Yasmeen told Mohammed harshly.

  He enjoyed her spirit, he thought, but she needed reminding of her place.

  “If you deprive me of my sport, than you must replace her,” he informed Yasmeen, pulling her down upon the bed and thrusting his cock inside her. He moved inside her and came quickly. He pulled away from her and left the room quietly with no words.

  Rather than feeling degraded at his treatment, Yasmeen lay upon the bed praying and begging Allah to give her a son.

  ***

  Mohammed stirred in his sleep. Nada and Gameela slept on each side of him, naked and sleek in sleep. He loved women together and smiled as his hand wandered into Nada’s tight little snatch. She was the Arabian woman who preferred other women and greatly enjoyed her time in the harem. She was always ready for him, and he pulled her on top of him.

  He sighed as Nada began to bounce up and down on him and his cock throbbed inside her. Gameela had come up on her knees and was twirling Nada’s dark nipple in her mouth. Gameela fondled Mohammed’s balls in her one hand, and in the other she fingered Nada’s tight little asshole.

  Nada began to cum loudly, and he pulled out of her little cunt as Gameela knelt before him and swallowed his cock whole. Her blood-red lips took all of him and she swallowed his seed delicately.

  Later, as Mohammed bathed, he thought of Yasmeen. It was not something he had wanted to dwell on, but it had been too long not to realize that Yasmeen was not going to have another child. By the merciful Allah, he was allowed four wives and there had been no male heirs and no more pregnancies. It was a bad sign.

  He knew he must begin choosing his next wife. He thought of his neighboring cousins and their little Amira. She would be of an acceptable age soon and perhaps she would do. No, he surmised. She was too hairy and her hooknose was not attractive. Perhaps his Egyptian family on his mother’s side would know of a princess who would be acceptable.

  He must give this much thought and ask his advisors. They would surely know of an acceptable woman to be his second wife, one who would be fertile and amiable. He wanted a woman who would understand pleasure, yet be a kind and loving mother.

  ***

  The voyage was long and Katharine was fortunate to be one of the only passengers aboard. She remembered her father told that often ships were packed to overflowing with passengers to increase the pockets of those who benefited. Small cots would be lined up, and hammocks as well, so that people would be crammed together; disease and sickness flourished. Katharine was indeed lucky, as she had her own cabin and was treated well, even though she was a prisoner.

  After a week at sea, the food turned moldy and the water was foul. She knew of one seaman who was very ill and another who had died. As there was no way to preserve the body, his had been thrown overboard with a small makeshift service performed by the captain.

  A storm had arisen halfway through their journey to their destination, which she still did not know, and they had been blown off course. However, she had been told they were back on course and would arrive shortly. Where they were and where their destination would be remained a mystery. Katharine was completely oblivious.

  She had spent the first few nights in a state of panic. She knew that she was sailing further and further away from everything she knew and everyone she loved. She had pounded on the door so much that first night that her small fists were red and bruised, but no one answered her. What kind of men were these who would do something so monstrous as to kidnap a woman from her home? The more she thought about it, the more she decided to keep to herself and not draw attention. They fed her, but the moldy food and water was not drinkable. The coffee fared little better due to the water used to make it, but she drank it to help keep her strength.

  She began to lose weight and was only taken up on deck at nights to avoid the interaction with the sailors. Because of this, Katharine became very pale. But she was left unmolested, for which she was very grateful. As she stared into the vast sea with nothing around the ship but endless ocean, she worried and contemplated what was going to happen to her.

  ***

  Bismillah Palace was the home of the Sheik and his great court. It was not only his residence but served to function as the seat of government where his people could be heard, conflicts resolved, and his realm protected. It was a beautifully constructed palace home to over 3,000 people and self-contained to function without the outside world. His audience and consultation chambers served to oversee the government and visitors, who were a constant flow into the palace. The palace was a vast place and had gardens, schools, a mosque, kitchens, a harem, and large pools for bathing.

  The audience chambers were adorned outside with marble, and gold lettering glittered about the door with a verse from the Qur’an for those to see as they entered:

  Verily! Allah commands that you should render back the trusts to those to whom they are due; and that when you judge between men, you judge with justice. Verily, how excellent is the teaching which Allah gives you! Truly, Allah is Ever All-Hearer, All-Seer.

  Inside the audience chambers, the room was decorated with valuable Persian rugs in colors of rich garnet red and amethyst on the floors and tapestries draped along the walls. Beautiful tiles lined one wall in gold and cream colors and underneath a row of chairs for distinguished guests.

  Court was beginning and the voices inside the chambers made a hum like bees in a hive. People were clustered in groups together and foreign men mingled with Arab men. Several ladies of the harem settled behind the intricately latticed screen to watch the court proceedings as the first case was heard. Yasmeen was dressed in gold and red, with her eyes heavily decorated with kohl. Her lady sat discreetly behind her as they watched an older man come forward and bow slightly in deference to Mohammed.

  Mohammed sat in a carved chair facing the entire room and nodded for the man to begin.

  “Sheik Mohammed Aksam Al Sabid, my neighbor sold me several goats and two have since died. I demand to be compensated.”

  Another man moved forward from the crowd and spoke in an angry voice, “I sold this man healthy goats in good faith. That they have died is no fault of mine. No compensation is required.”

  The two men quarreled back and forth and Mohammed listened carefully, though this case was a petty one. His eyes wandered briefly through the court and to the latticed screen where the women sat quietly.

  The men finally quieted and Mohammed made his decision. The goats had been sold in good faith and there was no evidence that deceit had been found in the goat’s condition. Therefore, the goats had died naturally. No compensation was given.


  Another case came before him. A man believed his wife to be unfaithful. She had been seen talking to a neighborhood youth. Mohammed knew this was not good. If a wife was unfaithful, it could mean her death, so this was a serious case. He stroked his goatee and watched the man as he spoke. He had learned from his father to watch people as they spoke and not concentrate so much as what they said.

  He learned to watch their eyes and it seemed that those who would not make eye contact usually had something to hide. He watched the man closely for signs of deception.

  The case dragged on as the man brought forth a witness who was his brother. The court collectively murmured as the second man came forward. Witnesses were allowed but the fact that he was a blood brother did not bode well. Mohammed watched the second man inch forward.

  It was going to be a long day, he knew.

  Suddenly, a buzz started at the back of the room as several unknown people entered. The doors usually remained closed for the court’s session, but admittance could be granted for important matters.

  Abdullah, his most trusted advisor, leaned into him and whispered into his ear. Abdullah was a large man who towered over most but stood under his master Mohammed. His black hair was mostly grey at the temples, his hooknose was long, and his dark eyes were small. He had been advisor to Mohammed’s father and had been a palace guard in his twenties. He had been a learned man and desired to rise above his station. Mohammed’s father had allowed the young man to borrow books from his library and he had become close to Abdullah. Slowly, he had been allowed into the father’s inner circle, and eventually he became a trusted advisor.

  When Mohammed the son took over for his father, he inherited Abdullah as advisor. Most in the palace kept well out of Abdullah’s way and few ever crossed him. He was known for being ambitious, calculating, and, above all else, fearing the mighty hand of Allah.

  Mohammed looked up startled and then nodded to Abdullah.

  Two local pirates who pillaged the seas had begged admittance to the audience chambers and Abdullah said they were not alone. Mohammed nodded and waved aside the man and his brother who waited for his decision.

  “Forgive the intrusion, mighty sheik,” Uthal said. He bowed slightly, as did Sufyan.

  “Indeed. What brings you to my court?” asked Mohammed, annoyed at the intrusion but also interested in their reason for appearing before him.

  Uthal smiled, showing his teeth, and barked to Sufyan, “Bring in the woman!”

  Sufyan scurried to do as he was bidden. Mohammed watched as the door opened wider and Sufyan returned to the chamber with a foreign woman. The woman was clothed in a long white tunic that reached the floor. Her breasts were unbound, high and perfectly rounded. He could not see her nipples but guessed they were pink as roses. His mouth watered and he almost rose from the chair before he settled back again. Mohammed was uneasy. An ache began inside him.

  She was slim, with long legs that he ached to have around his waist. He was suddenly aroused, but nothing could prepare him for what he felt when he looked into her face. It was sheer perfection. She had an oval-shaped face, with high cheekbones and luscious pink lips. He wondered idly if her pussy lips would be pink and luscious as well. Why did he torment himself?

  But nothing could compare to her Arabian Sea blue eyes that burned with hate and her hair… Oh, Allah! Her hair was like the great Sahara desert, golden and long, falling down her back.

  Mohammed felt like a thunderbolt had struck him. She was beautiful. He had to possess her.

  He tongue was thick and he swallowed and spoke to the pirates.

  “Name your price,” he said. The pirates named an outrageous sum that caused several in the court to gasp. But Mohammed waved at hand at them and said simply, “So be it.”

  ***

  Katharine had spent the day aboard the ship when they docked and had then been taken to the palace. She knew she had been drugged because she moved slowly and could not control herself well.

  When the pirates had brought her to the palace, Katharine was in awe of the place. She heard foreign languages spoken all around her, so she knew she had been taken far from home. Everyone was dressed strangely and she tried not to stare. She also tried not to stumble as she was led into the palace.

  Ushal had finally cut the strings binding her hands and told her angrily, “Lady, you can have a comfortable life here. Be nice and he will treat you well. He is known for being fair and good.”

  “How could you?” she wanted to ask. She shook her head but her tongue wouldn’t form the words. The drug had worked.

  When Katharine was first brought into the audience chambers, she made little eye contact. But once she stood in the center of the room, she looked up. She was surrounded by men, with no women in sight, and she thought it odd. Then, she noticed the man on the chair who seemed to be a king in his own right.

  He was striking and handsome and she felt herself blush as she gazed at him. He was dark, with golden skin and liquid brown eyes. When he looked her up and down, assessing her merit, she knew her fate would lay with him and her eyes hardened. She hated him, and he could see this when she returned his gaze.

  ***

  As Katharine was taken away to the harem, Yasmeen stood behind the screen with hate in her eyes as well. She hated the pale girl on sight and knew that this girl had been bought with gold to service her husband. It sickened her. She knew that the harem was an acceptable practice in their culture, but she hated the whores, and a white foreign one was even worse. This woman would not stay long in the palace, she promised herself.

  ***

  Katharine pulled away from the women as they tried to bathe and attend to her.

  “Stop it! Don’t touch me!” she screamed and tried to evade their hands. They scraped the hair from her arms and legs and scrubbed her clean. They pulled her legs apart and inserted a cool cream into her tight vagina.

  “Are you mad? Stop it!” she cried, and wondered if this was a nightmare. She tried to fight the tears and maintain her anger, but she was tired and the drug was still in effect.

  “Lady, we are to ready you. Body hair removal and cleanliness is essential,” a small woman spoke. The hair around her most intimate place was left, as was the sheik’s preference.

  “Ready me for what?” Katharine asked.

  “The master, of course,” Bashasha said.

  Bashasha was an older woman with a kind little face and soft voice. She was the overseer of the harem and used her kindness to ensure the harem ran smoothly. It was no easy task to keep 27 plus women complacent and happy. Fighting was a casualty of an easy life where women sat around much of the time. There was also sharp competition for the sheik’s eye, and favoritism happened even though he tried to mask it.

  Bashasha smiled at the girl’s reluctance.

  “He is a wonderful lover, generous and gentle,” she said. “You will see.”

  “No, you will see!” Katharine argued. “I have no desire for anyone! I have been abducted, kidnapped, brought to this strange land where I know no one! I am to marry an English lord if and when I choose,” Katharine cried aloud as another young beauty inserted her fingers inside her tight pussy.

  Bashasha listened intently as the girl spoke to her in a foreign language. She then said to Katharine, “She says you are a virgin.”

  “Don’t touch me!” Katharine replied. “Of course I am untouched, that is a gift for my husband.”

  “This will please our master very much,” Bashasha said. “He will enjoy you.”

  Katharine almost screamed but her head was swimming.

  “No! This is insane! I am a lady from England. I demand to be sent home this instant,” she yelled.

  Bashasha patted her hand and told Katharine, “Lady, this is to be your home. You were sold to our master. I suggest you forget your faraway land and make the best of this. Your only purpose here is to serve the master. But don’t be afraid. You will live a life of luxury.”

  “NEVER! Never!”
Katharine screamed.

  “Yes, you will submit to his desire. If you please him, he will treat you well. If you don’t, he may sell you to another sheik,” Bashasha cautioned her.

  Katharine sobbed as the women in the harem dressed her in brightly-colored foreign clothes. Their hands rubbed jasmine-scented oil into her arms, hands, legs and her most private parts.

  “Please, no,” she begged. She felt violated and was tired. The drug weighed her normally agile mind down and she felt like she was swimming underwater.

  “You are ready. Come with me,” Bashasha commanded. Katharine reluctantly followed Bashasha through the many corridors and into a large room that was dominated by a bed filled with pillows and a large pool behind it. Persian rugs in dark masculine colors of brown and red lay on the floor, and beautiful tiles covered the walls and decorated the pool. It was a lovely room.

  “Wait here, mistress,” Bashasha said, leaving her alone.

  Mohammed had been thinking about the beauty since she first arrived. He was throbbing at the thought of her long legs around his waist and was bewitched by the golden hair and blue eyes, which he had long dreamed about but never seen. She was a vision. He was hidden in a secret panel and quietly slid the wall open. He came behind her and was able to smell her scented with jasmine, his favorite scent.

  “My lady,” said the sheik.

  She whirled around and found herself face to face with a most beautiful man. Tall and bronzed, he was just as handsome as he had been when she first spied him in the audience chambers. He was dark and attractive in a way that Englishmen never were. But none of that mattered in the least; she wanted to be sent home immediately.

  “Sir, my name is Lady Katharine Fairfax. I demand that you return me to my father and my home in England. I have no wish to be here at all.”

  “Well, that is difficult. Because I very much wish you to be here,” he said. His gaze wandered over her form, starting with her breasts, chest, hips, and then back to her breasts. His fingers wandered over the neckline and rested on her collarbone, outlining it in a suggestive manner. She shuddered lightly.