“He offered me a small fortune for the white-haired beauty in my harem.”
Katharine whipped her head to face him and her startled blue eyes met his brown ones.
“You’ve sold me!?” she asked. In one quick movement, she attacked him. She struck his face and tried to claw him before he grabbed both her hands and pulled them above her head.
“Little falcon, be still!” he told her harshly. “No woman has ever dared strike me.”
He was in awe and in anger. Their breathing was heavy as his body pushed into hers. His hard muscular one melted into her soft body. His cock ached to be inside her little cunt, and his anger made him want her all the more.
She arched into him and then tried to pull away. “Let me go,” she said.
“Hmm,” he murmured lowly. His one hand held her two hands prisoners as his other hand pressed into her soft curves, feeling over her breasts, hips, and thighs. His fingers moved into the loose garment and delved into the tight passage. She was very wet.
“Deny, deny, deny, but you want me too, princess,” he whispered into her ear, causing goose pimples to break out on her arms.
Katharine shook her head but said nothing.
“The penalty for striking a sheik is death, even for a woman. For that, you must pay,” he said. He pulled her pants off her in a quick movement so that she was naked from the waist down.
“You like being a bather? Bathing the women, readying them for me?” he murmured into her ear as his hips pressed her legs apart, spreading them.
She struggled in his arms but to no avail. It would be over soon. He would press, break and claim her virginity, and there was nothing she could do about it. She wanted to lie still and she wanted to fight him. She wanted to cry and she wanted to give in.
“Lie still, little falcon. I do this for my favorites only,” he murmured against her temple. She shuddered as she felt his cheek against hers.
Katharine was confused. He had sex with everyone, so what was special about it? But instead, she said coldly told him, “I am not your favorite.”
He had settled between her thighs and told her, “No, princess. But you are mine.”
He moved between her legs and thrilled at seeing her alabaster long legs against his sun-kissed skin. His fingers touched into her pussy lips and spread them. Her little lips were so dainty and he knew she was a virgin. His fingers opened up the lips and his finger delved inside. One finger only, so as not to harm her. She would be very tight.
When Katharine felt him open her lips, she almost fainted. The sensations came crashing down upon her and she moved into him. She felt him insert one finger into her and she moaned, covering her mouth with one hand. She was embarrassed and flushed.
“Please, no,” Katharine gasped and thrashed her head from side to side. She clenched the bedcovers around them in her fists as he moved his mouth over her pussy and his tongue lapped into her like a cat with its cream.
“Oh God,” Katharine said, and she arched her back as he moved his tongue inside her wet pussy.
“Please, please,” she said. Whether she begged him to stop or continue, she didn’t know. She was past coherent thought.
Mohammed watched her as she arched her back and thrust her pussy into his mouth. Her skin was a dusky pink, and her cheeks were flushed.
His hands grasped her thighs and kept them apart as she moaned. His breath fanned the small curls around her pussy, and his finger was inserted inside her as his mouth continued.
“Let go, princess. Let yourself go,” he said. He continued the assault on her moist pussy until she gasped and cried out and climaxed loudly. Her cries filled the air and he spilled his cream for the second time.
He grinned and reeled in supreme male ego as she inched away from him, pulling on her loose pantaloons.
“Princess,” he said as he pulled her to him, “I didn’t take your virginity. I could have, but I did not.”
“No. You shame and whore me in every other way,” she said, looking away from him.
Mohammed hated the willpower of this little golden-haired falcon.
“Should I sell you to the neighboring sheik then?” he asked. He waited to hear her response.
“Do as you will,” Katharine spoke lowly.
Mohammed cringed. She would rather leave him than become his woman in the harem.
He admired her legs and bottom as she moved away from him and stood to leave the room. Suddenly, he knew the way to wear her down. She was innocent, but she was also passionate and young. Her body was made for pleasure, and he would be the one to teach her.
“I shall tell Bashasha, you are to be my bather from now on,” he said calmly.
Katharine turned to him, her blue eyes wide with fear.
“No. I prefer the harem,” she replied nervously.
“This is not a request, princess,” he told her. He watched her struggle as their wills clashed while he dressed. It was a supreme and grand foreplay between them.
“Why?” she cried. “You want to torture me. Taunt me, tease me. Make love to me until all that is left is you,” Katharine cried as he came to her and grasped her upper arms in his.
“No, princess, you are the tease, the taunt. The one who flaunts her body and knows that I have all the power and yet you remain a virgin. You deny me, yet touch yourself in front of me. And did I rape you?” He ground out the words as he held her close.
Katharine flushed at his vulgar words.
“Let me go back to England. Please,” she asked. She cringed at her subservient position. “You have a harem full of beautiful women. One worthless woman cannot matter so much.”
“I will never let you go,” he told her quietly as their eyes met.
“You would prefer a broken woman?” Katharine asked, shocked that he would not release her.
“Broken?” He snorted and released her from his grip. “The little hoyden who hit me is broken? Ha! The woman who mocks me and would rather be a bather than in my harem is broken? Broken indeed.”
Katharine turned to go, but he pulled her back to his chest. His body was muscular and warm while hers was soft and cool.
“And princess, you are anything but worthless,” he said. His mouth touched her ear and his hands pulled her bottom into his hard cock.
“You are worth the entire harem and more. And I will have you,” he said. With that, he finally released her and walked away.
Chapter 3
Katharine slept little that night. She didn’t know why she taunted him. Maybe she did enjoy teasing him, but she knew she could never give into him. Once he claimed her, she would grow to hate him, so she could not submit.
She hated the harem and its women but she had forged a simple friendship with Bashasha for all her strange and foreign ways. The older woman was kind and motherly and looked after the harem women to make sure they were healthy.
As his bather, Katharine would be sent for whenever he required her, and she would be in contact with him much more so than before. She cringed at the thought. She had considered running away, but she was a foreigner in this land; her hair and eyes would be difficult to hide. If she ran, the sheik would find her and bring her back. If that happened, she would be made to submit to his will if for no other reason than his pride amongst the tribe and his people. She would require help to escape and that remained always in her mind.
Yasmeen, the Sheik’s wife, continued to ignore her for the most part, and for that Katharine was grateful. Once the beautiful sulky bride learned of Kat’s new duties, she would surely be a target for abuse. As for the rest of the harem women, they ignored her and she was content with being alone.
The harem women had settled into their life at the palace and were much happier than they had been in their own villages. Many of them would have been sold to elderly men as wives or would have had to sell their bodies for money. Though Islam considered this practice a sin, it occurred everywhere, especially when the families had no sons and only daughters. Sometimes
a sister was sold to help a brother achieve a higher status. Thus, the harem women were well cared for, fed, and led very idle lives in the palace.
***
Abdullah watched the Sheik absorbed in his work. They had finished court and he had watched Mohammed settle many problems that day. He was wise and fair, much like his father before him.
He could see Mohammed’s mind had drifted, and Abdullah knew exactly who he was thinking about. Abdullah kept one of the harem women well-stocked with opium and she, in turn, spied for him. She had informed him that the white girl recently sold to the harem was raging a battle with the sheik. She would not share his bed and she had been made a bather by the sheik.
Abdullah loved and respected his sheik and worried about this new intrusion into their way of life. He thought about selling the “Sahera” to another sheik, but that would not be possible. Mohammed would not allow the witch to be sold.
He worried constantly for Mohammed and prayed to Allah to bring him a son from the little minx Yasmeen. But after years of marriage, Yasmeen had only birthed two daughters. In truth, Yasmeen was probably only good for bed sport. She was not overly educated and was certainly not worthy of being the mother of the next sheik. Mohammed must marry again. But how could Abdullah broach such a subject? It was disconcerting. He prayed to Allah for guidance.
“Abdullah, you are my most trusted friend and adviser,” Mohammed said. His dark eyes drifted over to the large, well-built middle aged man in robes.
“I am. And long may you reign well upon this Earth, praise be to Allah,” Abdullah replied. He bowed slightly.
“Thank you, my friend,” Mohammed said sincerely. “I must speak with you upon a matter of great delicacy but much importance.”
Abdullah nodded and moved closer to the man in order to give him his full attention.
“I think the time has come for a second wife,” Mohammed said.
Abdullah began to speak, but Mohammed stopped him by raising a hand.
“Yasmeen has been a dutiful wife. I have no complaints. She has been everything a man could hope for while remaining modest in all other respects. But she has birthed only two daughters and I cannot accept this. I will keep her as the first wife, but I must take a second. Once a young woman has been accepted, I am certain a son will be born.”
“Praise be to Allah,” Abdullah bowed in respect. “I have prayed upon this.”
“I have decided upon my second wife,” Mohammed continued.
Abdullah waited, wondering if perhaps it might be the lovely young princess Amira in the next village; she would come of age shortly.
“I want the young English girl from the harem,” Mohammed said decisively. “I will accept no one else.”
Oh no, Abdullah thought. He watched his friend’s eyes and knew he was serious. No! No one would accept a white girl with skin the color of goat’s curdled milk and from the land of Infidels to be their Queen. No one.
In one moment his prayers had been answered. In the next, everything had turned sour. This could not be.
“My lord,” Abdullah began, but he couldn’t finish. What could he say? This was disastrous. He of all men knew that women had their place and were taken as brides, performed their duties, and had sons. But this? This was not what he expected.
Mohammed nodded. “We will speak of this later. I have much to prepare.”
***
Katharine walked slowly into the bath. It was a large, rectangular-shaped bath with three steps down into it, decorated with coral and brown tiles. There was a seat in the bath that ran the entire length of it. At its deepest, the small pool was five feet.
Mohammed demanded that scent of oud be left burning always in the bath. Candles were lit low and intimate and the room was cool and welcoming.
The water pooled around her legs, then between her legs, and then up to her waist. She had been summoned for her first day of duties.
Mohammed arrived shortly and removed his simple white robe as Katharine quickly averted her eyes. He smiled at this and stepped into the warm water. He sighed with contentment and took a seat as the water enveloped him. She remained standing. He placed his arms along the edges of the small pool and enjoyed the quiet moment.
“What do you want me to do?” Katharine asked softly.
“Bathe me. That is all.” He settled back and she walked to him, the water moving around her. She picked up the small Luf sea sponge and dipped it into the water. Then, she swallowed lightly and moved toward him.
She moved to the side of him, kept her eyes above the water, and looked around the room. They were no servants about and she thought that odd.
His back was large and he was the color of light nutmeg. She moved the sponge along his broad back, arms and neck. He kept his arms along the rim of the pool as she performed her work. She moved to his chest and saw his darker nipples. She moved the sponge across his chest, blushing as she did.
Mohammed watched her face so intently as she touched his body and saw her blush pink, which spread across her cheeks. She pulled her hair back and leaned across to sponge the front of his arms, forearms, wrists and hands.
She looked up at him expectantly and asked, “What else do I wash?”
“All of me, princess,” he answered.
Katharine blushed again at his pet name and knew he knew she hated it. Then, she sponged his strong muscled legs and feet submerged under the water, while looking away from him.
He watched her eyes dart around, trying not to look at him, and he smiled. The tips of her hair had fallen into the water as she bent over to sponge his legs and feet. He picked a lock of her blonde hair and brought it to his nose. It smelled of vanilla.
“Stop,” she breathed out quietly and tried to straighten up. She didn’t want to be alone with him. She felt weak and anxious. She was touching him in places she should not and knew that he relished every moment.
“I’m not fully bathed yet,” he sighed into her ear as he held her slim wrists to him. They both knew only his cock remained unwashed.
“Yes, you are,” she argued.
“Do you want the sponge or your mouth to finish the last part of me?” he asked softly.
She blushed deeply and her blue eyes met his brown ones.
“That is a whore’s trick. Send for one of them,” she said. She tried not to look at his large cock underneath the water.
“I want you,” he spoke lowly in her ear. She tried to escape his grasp.
His face was so handsome, she thought. Bronzed and beautiful, with cutting cheekbones and his facial hair seemed more suited for a pirate than a sheik.
“Please,” she breathed out.
It suddenly occurred to him that she never called him anything. She never spoke to him. She had never called him sir, or sheik, and certainly never Mohammed, because no woman did. He suddenly wanted desperately to hear his name on her little rosebud lips. He ached to hear her call his name, just as she would one day in the midst of her orgasm when his cock filled her tight pussy.
“I will give you leave today, in return for a favor,” he told her.
Katharine almost felt elated and then shuddered, wondering what he would ask of her. “Yes?” she replied.
“I would hear you speak my name,” he said. His heartbeat felt heavy.
“I’m sorry?” she asked. Katharine didn’t understand.
“My name. I would hear it on your lips in lieu of no more washing.”
Katharine could feel his large hands still encircling her slim wrists and the sponge beneath her right hand. Her hands had been resting on his thighs as he held her close to him. He sat reclining on the small bench underneath the water while she stood in the water before him.
“Y-your name?” she stuttered.
“Yes, princess. My name on your lips. That’s all I require for today. In fact, I will even bathe myself the rest of the day so that you may enquire upon some better skills as a bather from Bashasha,” he spoke sarcastically as she looked into his eye
s.
Her eyes were so blue, and he found himself wanting to drown in them.
“But why?” she asked him, unsure. Why did it matter? Why should she say his name? She was nothing to him.
“I would hear it, little falcon,” he replied. He remained in the water, but his cock had grown and hardened. He wanted her. He ached to break apart her slim hymen and watch as she turned dusky pink from their lovemaking.
He released her wrists from under the water and she suddenly turned away from him. As she turned away from him, he reached under the water and stroked his cock. Oh, what a mistake! It hardened and lengthened, readying itself for the pussy it wanted. He wanted no other woman than the little virgin who stood before him.
Her hair cascaded down her back and he wanted to tie it around his fist and bend her over the bath’s walls and pound into her. She would cry and beg him for more… he knew she would. All women did.
Katharine did not want to do as he asked. Speaking his name aloud seemed so intimate, and she was sure no other harem woman did that. Why? Why was he asking this? Why not force her to submit?
He closed his eyes as he stroked his throbbing cock and then released it as she turned around.
“Very well. I don’t remember your name, so you’ll have to tell me again,” she said. Katharine’s eyes were downcast as she spoke the last part, still clutching the sponge.
“Certainly,” he agreed.
“Do you wish me to say anything else? Or just your name?” She watched his eyes as he watched her.
“Only my name. And look at me when you say it,” he added. Their eyes locked again and she tore hers away.
Katharine cringed at the intimacy of it all and forced herself to look at his dark beauty. She nodded.
“My name is Mohammed,” he said. “After my father and the great prophet.”
Katharine grinded her teeth as he spoke and his eyes flashed darkly in the sparsely-lit bath. The room was cool and intimately lit, with sunlight pouring in from glass windows on the ceiling.
“Mohammed,” she spoke lowly. At the last syllable, she looked away from him.
“Come here, princess. You are too far away. I can barely hear you,” he said. His voice was low and warm. She had stepped away from him when he had released her hands, but he wanted her closer.
The Sheik and the Slave Page 5