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The Sheik & the Slave Ch. 02

By: Nicola_Italia1



Katharine hated the harem. She hated the Arabian land and its forsaken sand. She hated the food and the harsh Arabic language and most of all she hated him. She loathed his very existence. She had been a prisoner in the harem for a month now.

She bathed, massaged and pampered the women of the harem. She escaped the abuse of Yasmeen because she was of no threat to her. She didn’t share Mohammed’s bed and so Yasmeen didn’t bother her. The women viewed her as a freak. She had denied an easy life for the sake of a servant’s life. Little did they know she dreamed of the green hills of England and her father’s calm manner. She dreamed of a life as a Countess or a Duchess and back with her family and friends.

She bathed and massaged Gameela. Gameela was one of the Sheik’s favorites. She was a slender woman with small breasts and hips. She loved to suck his cock and swallow his essence and always wanted to please the sheik.

She spoke a broken English that she had learned from the sheik himself. It was rumored that she was to be the next wife but Bashasha said it would never happen.

“You are silly woman.” Gameela spoke to Kat.

“Really?” She hated the flimsy garments she was forced to wear which revealed more than concealed. She wore loose pantaloons and shear garments the color of pink. Tiny bells encircled her ankles and she hated these most of all. It marked her as property. His.

Kat 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, lover.”

“Do tell.” Sighed a bored Kat. She thought of England and London as Gameela continued on. What time of day is it in England? Kat thought. What was her family doing? Were they worried?

Kat finished massaging and Bashasha approached them.

“Go Gameela. Return to the sheik’s room in one hour to retrieve her, Lady Kat.”

“Yes, Bashasha.” Kat watched Gameela slink down the hallway and she returned to the harem.

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

“Hard? Because I don’t whore for him?” Kat almost kicked a small vase as she turned a corner.

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

“I won’t whore for a heathen – even if he was the King of England.” Kat stalked to the corner where her small mass of pillows and sheets lay. She wasn’t allowed a room and bathed in public. She was reduced to a servant’s life and she hated them all. A few of the younger women had tried to make friends but she rebuked them.

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

“Gameela.” He watched her strip in front of him and her small breasts bounced lightly as she walked to him. Her hips were slim but didn’t curve out as the little white witch’s did. He cursed, as he thought of the blonde woman and his cock hardened at the thought of her.

Gameela smiled at the effect she had on him. She would soon be wife number two. She was sure.

Her tiny nipples twisted into tight buds as she sat before him.

He watched as she settled herself on the pillows 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 sucked his cock divinely but her little pussy was tight and responsive. It constricted when he was inside her and the walls were delicious.

Her hair fell about her waist and he touched the long strands.

“Would you like company along with me, my lord?” Gameela asked shyly.

“No.” He watched her small fingers encircle her little snatch and enter it. She was dripping wet and her pussy glistened in the dark. She always kept it hairless because he liked it that way and 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. He was a great lover and man. She hated the thought of the other 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 his cock. It jerked in reflex and she enveloped it with her pink lips. Her tongue swirled around the cock’s head and down the shaft.

His hands touched her head and urged her down the entire length.

He leaned back his head and groaned. Gameela smiled as she continued to suck him.

Bashasha woke the sleeping girl. “Lady Kat, tis time to go get Gameela.” Katharine awoke in the midst of a wonderful dream. She was walking through the vast gardens that surrounded her home and her father had been calling to her. He was warm and loving and she had been ripped from the dream into this hot, foreign world that she loathed.

Katharine adjusted her clothes trying desperately to hide her curves and breasts that were almost see-through.

“Why does he ask me to go get the women? It was always the eunuchs before I came.” She hated it. The women looking sated and happy, the room smelling of sex and semen, and those dark hooded eyes that followed her everywhere.

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

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

Bashasha pulled the beautiful blonde with her as she neared the door. “Bah! You know why.”

“I don’t. Why?” Kat stood at a standstill before the diminutive woman.

“He summons you to see you. To watch you. To undress you with his eyes. To bring you to heel and grovel as you see the woman he has just made love to. You know why, little one.”

Kat ground her teeth as she stared at Bashasha. It was true. He always watched her. Those dark, seductive eyes following her. The woman smirking at her. Her scant clothes torn away as he probed her body and raged to take her body and her virginity.

Gameela arched her back as his cock sank into her. She gasped at the largeness of him. She had never gotten used to it.

He grabbed onto her bottom as his cock probed deeply 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 room.

Kat watched with large eyes as Gameela rode the Sheik. Her small brown ass was all Kat could see besides the long back and hair falling around her. The sheik was lying a little to the right of Gameela so when Kat entered he had seen her. His hands gripped Gameela tighter and as he plunged into the woman his eyes were on Katharine.

Katharine could not take her eyes away from him. Just as his cock remained inside Gameela his thoughts, his mind, his soul was with Katharine.

He wanted the blonde’s tiny pussy surrounding his cock. Her hips and ass being gripped by him.

Kat 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 Kat. His dark eyes watched the blonde in the shadows as the dark haired girl’s mouth took his cock.

Katharine watched the Sheik with Gameela and suddenly couldn’t help herself. Her hand strayed down her body and underneath her pants and into her panties.

Her small finger delved past the tiny curls and into her tight cunt. She gasped and her eyes never left the Sheik. She was wet and creamy and wanted him. She knew it was wrong, knew she shouldn’t give in to this madness. Abruptly she pulled her hand away, but too late.

He watched as the young woman began to touch herself and a sharp intake of breath stopped Gameela.

“Leave, Gameela.” He told her.

Gameela looked up hurt and turned to leave and saw the white girl standing there.

“Come here, princess.”

Kat could have cursed herself. She never should have done such a rash thing. She was mad to have done it. She hated it when he called her princess, mocking her past life and position.

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

“I’m asked you not to call me that.” Kat told him sullenly.

Mohammed grinned. “Lie back upon the pillows.” He remained seated and at ease, his manhood still strong and hard.

“No.” She shook her head.

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

Kat lay back upon the pillows. Her blonde hair sparkled on the pillows as she lay upon them.

“I don’t love you. I don’t even like you.” She whispered to him.

Mohammed grinned, “This matters? Your body was made to receive a man, bear children, and much more. What is love and like?”

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

Kat turned her head to the side. “How can you understand?”

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

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

His cock bounced at the thought of her little pussy tight and surrounding him. He had to have her.

Mohammed straddling her hips suddenly. “A sheik in the next village came to see me today.”

Kat kept her head turned as she sighed. If he was to rape her, he would get no response from her. 

“He offered me a small fortune for the white haired beauty in my harem.”

Kat turned her startled blue eyes to Mohammed’s brown ones.

“You’ve sold me!?” 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.

“Hmm.” He murmured lowly. His one hand pressing into her soft curves and feeling her breasts, hips, thighs and into her thighs.

“Deny, deny, deny, but you want me too, princess.”

Kat shook her head even as her pussy pooled warm and ready for his cock to enter her.

“Striking a sheik is death. Even to a woman. For that, you must pay.” He pulled her pants below and off her in a quick movement.

“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.

Kat 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.

“Lie still and enjoy. I do this for my favorites only.”

Kat didn’t understand. He had sex with everyone, but instead said coldly, “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 seeing her alabaster white long legs against his sun-kissed skin. His fingers touched into her pussy lips and spread them.

“Please no.” Kat gasped and thrashed her head from side to side. She clenched the sheets around them into fists as he moved his mouth over her pussy and his tongue lapped into her. He was like a predatory cat and she his prey.

Again and again she arched her back as he moved his tongue inside her wet cunt.

“Please, please.” But 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.

His hands grasped her thighs and kept them apart as she moaned in the room. His breath fanned the small curls around her pussy and his finger inserted inside her as his mouth continued.

“Let go, princess. Let yourself go.” He continued the assault on her moist pussy until she gasped and cried out and came loudly. Her cries filled the air and he had inadvertently spilled his cream all over the silk sheets.

He grinned and sat up and she looked away from him.

He was reeling in supreme male ego as she inched away from him.

“Princess.” He pulled her to him.

“I didn’t not take your virginity. I could have, but I did not.”

“No. You shame and whore me in every other way.”

Mohammed hated the will power of this little golden haired falcon. “Should I sell you to the neighboring sheik then?”

He waited to hear her response.

“If it’s your wish.” Kat spoke lowly.

Mohammed cringed. She would rather leave him, then become his woman.

He watched her dress and admired her legs and bottom that he ached so badly to fondle and shove his cock inside her.

He smiled and knew the way to wear her down.

“I shall tell Bashasha, you are to be my bather from now on.”

Kat turned her eyes to him. “No. I prefer the harem.”

He grinned. “This is not a request.” He also dressed and watched her struggle with his will against hers. 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 ‘til all that’s left is you.” Kat cried as he came and grasped her upper hands 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. The one who comes to collect the women, who has denied me, and yet you finger yourself in front of me. And have I demanded your pussy? Have I raped you?”

Kat flushed at his graphic words. “Let me go back to England. Please.” Kat begged. “Please. You have a harem full of beautiful woman. One worthless white woman cannot matter so much.”

“I will never let you go.” He told her quietly.

“You would prefer a broken woman?” Kat asked, shocked.

“Broken?” He snorted and released her. “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.”

Kat turned to go but he pulled her back to him. His body was muscular, hot and brown as hers was soft, cool and white.

“And princess, you are anything but worthless.” His mouth touched her ear and his hands pulled her bottom into his hard cock.

“You are worth the entire harem and more. I will have you. And you know you want it too.” With that he walked away from her.

The Sheik & the Slave Ch. 03



Katharine slept little that night. She didn’t know why she taunted him. Maybe she did enjoy teasing him or maybe she didn’t know any other way to act. Surely this was it. She couldn’t not fight him and so she knew no matter what she would fight him until he claimed what he would and then she would hate him. But rather that – than willingly submit to him.

She hated this place and the women and the goings on in the Harem but she at least had multitudes of female companions and Bashasha for all her strange foreign ways was a kind and motherly woman. Now she would be sent to him every morning, noon and night and be his for the taking. She would be in contact with him most of the day and she cringed. She had thought about running away but she was a foreigner in this land. And with her hair and eyes there was no way to hide. The Sheik would find her and bring her back. And once she had run away and been brought back – she would be made to submit to his will if for no other reason than his pride amongst the tribe and his people.

At least for now she was somewhat safe. Yasmeen, the wife, continued to ignore her for the most part and for that she was always grateful. But once the beautiful sulky bride learned of her new duties she would surely begin to suffer abuse.

As for the rest of the women, none of them really gave the blonde much notice. Gameela was content because she knew that she was still the Sheik’s favorite and cared for little else.

The other women were more or less concerned for their own safety and as long as the harem remained – they were fine. They were fed well and lived better than most women of Arabia.



Abdullah sighed as he watched the Sheik absorbed in his work. They had finished another court amongst the lower people and Mohammed had settled many problems today. But he was far away in thoughts and Abdullah knew exactly where he was. Abdullah kept one of the harem girls well stocked with opium and she in turn spied for him. She had informed him that the Sheik was almost obsessed with “the white one from the far away land” and it didn’t bode well.

Abdullah loved and respected his Sheik and good friend and didn’t want anything to happen to him or his way of life. He thought about selling the witch to another Sheik but that had been tried and failed.

He worried constantly for Mohammed and prayed to Allah to bring him a son from the little minx Yasmeen. But Yasmeen had only birthed two daughters. In truth, Yasmeen was probably only good for bed sport, not queenly duties and certainly not the mother of the next Sheik. Mohammed must marry again. But how to broach such a subject?

“Abdullah. You are my most trusted friend and adviser.” His dark eyes drifted over to the middle aged man in robes.

“I am. And long may you reign well upon this Earth, praise be to Allah.” He bowed slightly.

“Thank you, my friend.”

Abdullah nodded.

“I must speak with you upon a matter of great delicacy but much importance.”

Abdullah nodded again but moved closer to the man in order that he would see his full attention upon him.

“I think the time has come for a second wife.”

Abdullah began to speak but Mohammed stopped him.

“Yasmeen has been a dutiful wife. I have no complaints. She has been everything a man could hope for in giving herself to me while remaining modest in all other respects. But she has birthed me only two daughters and I cannot accept this. I will keep her as the first wife, but 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 decided upon my second wife.”

Abdullah waited wondering if perhaps it might be the lovely young princess Amira in the next village who would come of age shortly.

“I want the young English girl from the Harem. I will accept no one else.”

Abdullah watched his friend’s eyes and knew he was serious. Oh no. No one would accept a white girl with skin the color of goat’s curdled milk and from the land of Infidels for their Queen. No one.



Kat walked into the bath slowly. It was a large rectangular shaped bath with three steps down into it. There was a seat in the bath that ran the entire length of it. At its deepest the small pool was 3 feet.

Mohammed demanded that scents of Egyptian Musk, Patchouli and Sandalwood be left burning always in the Bath. Candles and all lights were lit low and intimate.

The water pooled around her legs and then between her legs and then up to her waist. She waited for him. Her first day of duties.

He arrived shortly after. As he made his way to remove his robe Kat quickly averted her eyes. He smiled at this. He stepped into the warm water and sighed quietly. Once he was seated and she was standing 3 feet down – they were the same height.

“What do you want me to do?” Kat asked softly.

“Bath me. That’s all.” He settled back and she walked to him, the water moving around her. She picked up the small sea sponge and dipped it into the water.

His back was large and lovely and he was the color of light nutmeg. She moved to his chest and saw his nipples were the color of dark brown and she moved the sponge across them.

He watched her face so intent upon his body and he loved watching the emotions play across hers. Her perfectly sculpted face with those eyes that he adored when they flashed angry at him. Her lips so full and that luxurious hair.

She pulled her hair back and leaned across to sponge his arms, forearms and wrists and hands. She looked up at him expectantly and asked, “What else do I wash?”

“All of me, Princess.”

Kat blushed at his name and knew he knew she hated it. Then she sponged his strong muscled legs and his waist submerged under the water.

He watched her eyes dart around trying not to look at him and he smiled again. The tips of her hair had fallen into the water as she bent over to sponge his legs and feet off. He picked a lock up absently and brought it to his nose. She smelled of vanilla.

“Stop.” She breathed out quietly and tried to straighten up.

“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.” 

“Do you want the sponge or your mouth to finish the last part of me?” He asked softly.

She blushed deeply. “Tis a whore’s trick. Get one of them to do it.” She tried not to look at his large cock underneath the water.

“I want you.” He spoke lowly in her ear and she turned abruptly to him.

His face was so lovely and handsome, she thought. Bronzed and beautiful with cutting cheekbones and his facial hair...more like a pirate then a Sheik.

“Please.” She breathed out.

It suddenly occurred to him that she never called him anything. Never spoke to him. She had never called him sir, or Sheik, and certainly never Mohammed - no woman did. He suddenly wanted desperately to hear his name on her little rosebud lips. Ached to hear her call his name just as she would in the midst of her orgasm when his cock filled her tight pussy as it one day would.

“I will give you leave today. But in return for a favor.”

Kat almost felt elated and then shuddered. “Yes?”

“I would hear you speak my name.” His heartbeat felt heavy in his heart.

“I’m sorry?” Kat didn’t understand.

“My name. I would hear it on your lips in lieu of no more washing.”

Kat 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 almost studdered.

“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 eyes.


Her eyes were so blue almost green and he found himself wanting to drown in them.

“But why?” She asked him so unsure. Why did it matter? His name? She was nothing to him.

“I would hear it nonetheless, little Falcon.” 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 lengthed and readied 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.

Kat loathed doing what he asked. Suddenly it seemed so intimate. Knowing and speaking his name, which no other woman did, she was sure. Why? Why was he asking this when he could easily submit her to his will and make her bath his private parts. Why?

He released his cock as she turned around.

“Very well. I don’t remember your name so you’ll have to tell me again.” Kat’s eyes downcast as she spoke the last part, still clasping the sponge.

“Alright.”

“And do you wish me to say anything else? Or just your name?”

“Only my name. And look at me when you say it.”

Kat cringed at the intimacy of it all and forced herself to look at his dark beauty.

“My name is Mohammed. After my father and the great prophet.”

Kat ground her teeth as he spoke and his eyes flashed darkly in the sparsely lit bath.

“Mohammed.” She spoke lowly and at the last syllable looked away from him.

“Come here, Princess. You are too far away. I can barely hear you.” His voice low and intimate.

She stepped directly in front of him. They were so close she could reach out and touch him. He reached out and took the sponge from her – her only tangible lifeline to this crazy scene.

“Again.”

“Mohammed.” Her lips puckered as she spoke his name and he couldn’t stop.

“Once more.” He watched her lips pucker as she breathed out.

“Moha-“ With his name still on her lips he pulled her against him suddenly. His mouth descended upon hers and devoured her breath and his name. His tongue delved into hers as he had dreamed about so many times. He had been inside her with his mouth and fingers but he had never kissed her before and he reveled in it. He pulled her slim hips toward him between his legs and then violently into him as his mouth continued its torment.

His hands moved back to her face as he pulled her lips to him again and again. His fingers threaded into her golden hair as his lips took hers. He would not stop.

“Ah.” She exclaimed and backed away from him suddenly - holding her hand before her mouth.

Her tongue darted out and he saw that he had bit her. Her tongue darted away a drop of blood.

“Katharine.” He started to apologize and realized what he was doing. He had never apologized to any woman for anything.

She lowered her eyes and asked, “May I go?”

“For now, Princess.”

Kat walked quietly out of the bath and away from him. When he could no longer see or hear her she felt the tears falling down her cheeks.

She knew it was only a matter of time.



The Sheik & the Slave Ch. 04



The women of the harem dressed in their best silks and gauze veils in readiness for their concert in the smaller garden in the East of the large mansion. The Sheik had prepared a large musical and arts festival for all the neighboring people and a smaller concert had been arranged for the harem women. Though by Arabian standards the Harem women remained in seclusion inside their mansion rooms and wing, the Sheik always provided for them and made certain they were entertained also.

"A fine Egyptian flutist will be playing this evening," cried Gameela happily clothed in a light yellow silk pants and tight bodice shirt. Her small ballet slippers matched her outfit.

Nahweh, the West African girl with dark skin, wore a deep blue outfit that complimented her.

The women stood around in small groups discussing the upcoming concert as Katharine approached Bashasha.

"Bashasha, may I speak with you?"

"Of course little one, what is it?" Asked the older diminutive woman.

"I wanted to see if I could stay behind. Just for a little while. I never have any time to myself, and I loathe public bathing. It's very uncomfortable for me." Kat struggled with her frustration.

Bashasha had the urge to roll her eyes, but knew from gossip and talk that the English race seemed to be a restrained and cold people.

"And it's a concert. Everyone will be there. The Sheik has planned dozens of activities this evening and will have no need of me. I will certainly not be missed. Please, I beg you." She lowered her voice at this last request.

Bashasha watched as the other women made their way down to the quiet gardens and knew that no one needed this proud English girl at the moment.

"Alright little one. But only a short while. Then when you have bathed and are ready, please join us. I don't want the other women accusing me of favoritism and I certainly don't want to explain your absence should anyone ask. I will say the Sheik asked for you."

"Thank you, Bashasha." Kat watched the last of the women leave the small bath house and sighed with relief.

Mohammed had been watching the women leave for their concert from his private balcony high above. He noticed his favorites leave, the kindly old woman Bashasha leave but he failed to see the little Falcon leave. He wondered about it.

He had rested poorly the night before. Her lips beckoned him into a fitful sleep and had he not been an educated man, he would have been convinced of witchcraft. He relived their bath again and again in his mind and could not escape it. Her hair smelling of vanilla, her soft lips underneath his and urging him on no matter what she spoke. Her breasts and hips all womanly and curving into his own body. His cock – even now – hard and thrusting forward wanting to tear into her body. Wanting to feel the rippled walls of her tight pussy as she arched her back into him and lifted her legs around his waist. He would relish the feel of her nails on his back as she raked them – leaving her mark for all the world to see. And he would claim her virginity as no other man had or would and watch her grow round with his son - the next Sheik.

Kat bolted the door behind the women and began to ready herself for the bath.

Mohammed decided quickly. He would not be missed and walked quietly down the corridor and into a small hallway that twisted and turned awkwardly and led into a secret panel that would open into the bathing area of the Harem. The panel had small holes that was part of a decoration on the Harem side but was in actuality peeping holes.

His father had been a sexual man like himself but had been particularly fond of voyeurism. He had always loved to watch his Harem beauties bathing and coupling in intercourse with visiting dignitaries. He enjoyed hearing the moans and grunts of the men and women whilst in the middle of sex. He especially loved to listen as the women were rammed and filled to the brim in group acts and loved watching them being filled in the mouth with thick cock and stuffed up their cunts with hard meat. Sometimes his father had paid the dignitaries to be especially brutal and harsh but never painful.

He liked the women who would cry out and then turn into wanton bitches enjoying the hard cocks and pushing back wanting more. His father's favorite passion had been watching the women get cock up their anal holes for the first time. He had loved to hear them scream, cry, beg to stop and then beg to continue. It would always begin the same. The young girls would always cry that they had never taken it up there. Then the men would tear into the little holes trying not to hurt but unable to stop. The women would beg to stop – then as the men guided their asses lovingly – the women would become like bitches in heat. Arching their asses into the air and begging the men to continue – to pound harder and they would surrender as they laid their heads down like claimed mares and the men would spill all their cream inside the tight little virgin holes. 

Mohammed the son had stumbled upon this secret viewing room himself by accident. And though he enjoyed watching the women in secret also, nothing compared to the actual sex act itself.

He watched quietly as the young white woman undressed.

Katharine sighed happily at the quiet, serene feel of the small bath house. She was alone and she reviled in it. She undressed slowly taking her pants off, her bodice off and all the other jewelry she wore.

He watched as she stood naked in the bath house. Her slim, long legs the color of ivory. Her slim hips that jutted out – womanly – and then her waist dipped in and her high breasts so proud jutted out again. Her breasts were dipped at the tips the color of roses. She was very feminine with a slim hourglass figure. Her mass of blonde hair had been secured up as small tendrils fell about her neck and face. He watched her step into the water. She sighed as the water pooled around her legs, vagina and then waist and she sunk into it. She picked up the sea sponge and massaged herself.

Mohammed watched the entire scene and felt himself growing hard and angry at her. She always kept herself so aloof and cool. She pretended to be a marble statue in his arms yet he knew she creamed for him. He knew in the bath with him she had wanted him. She would have cried no until his cock had filled her tight pussy and then she would have clung to him like a little bitch in heat.

His cock jerked with the visual of her naked beneath him and he lifted up his long robe to fill his hand with himself. His hand moved down the long length of him and then up again. He watched her in the water.

She sponged her waist, legs, feet and arms. She sponged her breasts and back. She settled back onto the lounge seat and dipped her fingers into the water. It pooled around her hand and then she slipped her hand between her legs.

"Ah." She sighed into the lonely bathhouse as her fingers encircled the vagina lips and then sank into the small opening. She was very tight. As a virgin, she had never had any man touch her where the Sheik had touched her.

In England, she had pushed the societal rules, but that's because they were always so restrictive. An unmarried young lady never went anywhere without a chaperon and she was never allowed to be alone with a man. She never wanted to become a whore in England she just wanted her freedom.

When her father had tired of her outrageous behavior – he had arranged the marriage of Lord Benton.

She had never told her father his words but Lord Benton had accosted her in the small parlor one evening, grabbed her breast in one hand and told her roughly in her ear, "I hope you aren't breeding, little whore. I won't have some bastard carrying on my name."

After that, she knew what she must do. Embarrass Benton publicly so he would call off his suit, and flee England. She knew her father and everyone else thought her a loose tramp and so be it.

Women were prisoners in the house and Kat would rather die than live such a boring, useless life. She had gotten her wish. Benton had called off the suit and her father had sent her away. Away to bondage so it was to be.

But why was she fighting the Sheik? He was very handsome. Certainly the most handsome man she had ever seen. But the fact that she was a slave and his prisoner irritated her. Not free to give what she had. To be called every other week to be his whore. To be forced to submit to him in any manner he required.

She rested her head back and inserted her fingers as high as they would go without hurting her thin barrier. She sighed again and her breathy echoes murmured in the room.

Mohammed watched her close her eyes and finger her tight little pussy. His hand moved quicker along his cock and he could feel his cream building.

"Oh, Mohammed." She cried into the bathhouse and came quickly.

His cream shot onto the wall where he was standing and he looked at the little blonde incredulously.

She wasn't so immune to him as she would like him to believe. He watched her leave the bath, small little ass that he wanted to pound, and towel herself off.

He smoothed his robe down and emerged into the bathhouse.

"Princess." He spoke lowly and she whirled around to face him.

"My god, you frightened me!"

He said nothing.

"What do you want?" She asked warily as she clung to the towel tightly.

Her hair was lovely pulled up onto her head with small little curls escaping everywhere. And her eyes...were so expressive – he could barely wait to thrust into her and watch them change colors.

He stood before her. "There is a banquet tonight. You will attend me."

"You mean bath you in public?" Kat asked, shocked.

"No. I want you to sit with me and eat. Nothing more."

"I cannot. Your wife would be furious." Kat asked not wanting to incur the hot little Yasmeen's temper.

"I command this. Yasmeen commands nothing."

"Please, no. Your whim this evening is that I attend you. Yet tomorrow you will be gone, and I will go back to the bath house and be abused by whomever listens to Yasmeen."

"I command this. Yasmeen will not harm you." He reached up and withdrew her combs and her hair fell into a mass of gold around her face and neck.

"And never bind your hair up when I summon you." He spoke to her and gave her the combs.

"You never summon me, I'm not a Harem girl." She tried to look away from his mouth. She remembered them on her lips and body. His mouth was warm as hers was cool.

"No, you're not." He watched her as she watched his mouth. He was a man who knew desire. He knew when women wanted it and her mouth could lie but as she watched his lips she could hide nothing.

His lips touched her ear and bit it lightly. Goose pimples broke out along her arms.

"Come to me tonight. Not because I command it, but because you want to." His voice was so low he barely recognized himself. He wanted this little Falcon and no one else.

"I will come to the banquet." Kat sighed.

"No." He spoke in her ear again. "Come to me tonight. After the banquet. After the festivities. When everyone has settled down. When the dignitaries are visiting with the women, when Yasmeen has gone to bed. When Kat should be sleeping on her mat and pillows – I want her to come to me. Naked and warm and wanting me."

"No. I won't." She shook her head, her juices pooling between her legs.

"Don't you desire me, Princess?" He asked softly.

"No, I don't."

"You don't?"

"No."

"So why did you cry my name as you had an orgasm?" His eyes met her shocked ones.

"You were spying?" Her face turned pink as he smiled.

"Yes. And I have been emptied of cream again because of you."

Kat turned her head away.

"You have been to many dinners no doubt as the daughter of a Lord."

Kat nodded.

"Then you will attend me in the finest gown we have. You will smile, enjoy the dinner so that I may show you off. You will make conversation and impress these men who have come for business with me."

"As your whore." Kat spat out.

He grasped her small chin in his large hand. "As a lady within my household. As a lady who can converse intelligently as Yasmeen cannot."

Kat held her tongue as he spoke the last sentence.

"And tonight?" She asked him.

"Yes?" His liquid brown eyes held hers.

"What would you have me do tonight?" She feared his answer.

He pulled her to him and opened the towel at the junction of her legs. One long sun darkened finger licked into her tight pussy that was dripping and longing for his cock.

"What would you like to do tonight?" He mocked her.

"Yasmeen is your wife. I am your prisoner. By the laws of my god what you ask of me is a sin. As a whore – it is adultery. As a woman – adultery. You think because I am in this place – that I can forget the rules and laws that I was raised by?"

"And if Yasmeen was not my wife? If you were my wife?" He pulled her to him so tightly she had to look up into his dark face.

"What game do you play?" Her heart thundered.

"I asked you a question, Lady Katharine Fairfax. If you were my wife, what then?"

Kat shook her head but saw that he would hear her answer. "I would by your wife. You would be my husband. By English laws, I could deny you nothing. I could not deny you my inherited lands, my money, or my body." She spoke to him and he watched those lips, so full and seductive move as she spoke. It hardened him.

He moved his finger into her again and her pussy dripped and juiced for him. Kat gasped at the intrusion and the pleasure he caused her. He removed his finger and she watched as he sucked his finger with her juices still on it. She blushed and closed her towel tightly stepping away from him.

"I will tell Bashasha. You will attend me at the Banquet."

She lowered her head.

"And tonight you will come to me." He told her harshly.

She began to protest.

"Yes. I will have you with me in the night. If for nothing more than to read me to sleep and be beside me when I wake up."

Kat shook her head. "Read? Sleep?"

"Yes. If you want more from me, I am sorry. All I require tonight, is a good book."

Kat shuddered. Sleep beside his warm body and not want his touch? Torture.

Mohammed strode out of the bathhouse. Sleep? Who was he kidding? With the little hot and cold Falcon he would get no sleep just a full time hard on that would never be relieved.

Kat watched him leave the bathhouse and knew that her resolve was breaking. She prayed there might be someone of importance at the dinner tonight who could get a letter of hers to her family in England.



The Sheik & the Slave Ch. 05



She shook her head once. “Please – “ She dreaded this. She wanted him. She ached to have him here between her legs. She wanted to feel his cock stretching and filling her. She wanted to feel her hymen break and have him claim her as his. She wanted to see the blood stain his cock and his sheets knowing that she was his forever.

He pulled the hem of the dress further up to her calves.

“Princess, tell me. I want to know.”

“I truly don’t know. I-I think he was a friend of my father’s but I swear to you I don’t know his name. But he knows me.” She admitted.

“Indeed? Truly?” He pulled the dress up further – up past her knees and to her slim thighs. Her legs were slightly apart as he knelt before her. His cock bounced at the thought of her pussy. But he kept to the business at hand. He had to know about this foreign man.

“I swear. We spoke only briefly. Nothing happened.” Kat cringed as her juices slid out of her – clinging to the small hairs of her pussy. Her tight pussy was ready for the taste of his cock.

“Alright, Princess.” He nodded. His hands rested on her slim thighs and his eyes fell down to her legs spread slightly – her pussy glistened and was ready for his taking.

She saw him. She knew he had seen her wet, juicy pussy. “No.” She shook her head.

He smiled. He had to have her. Tonight. He would seduce her. “I only want a kiss. That’s all.” He grinned.

“No. You’re a master seducer. You play at words. Please.” She shook her head.

His eyes wandered over her mouth and his hand pressed her thighs apart. His finger delved into her tightness. He squeezed his eyes shut. She was so very tight and wet and her walls rippled around his finger holding it tight.

“Your mouth, Princess. Give me your mouth.” Mohammed watched as she tried to shake her head and then he pressed her back covering her body with his.

His mouth took hers and his tongue probed her mouth deeper and deeper. As his tongue probed her mouth his finger sank into her tightness. He could feel her hymen and knew she would be his.

Kat’s head spun. She couldn’t concentrate and could only feel. He was the devil. She knew it.

“Spread your thighs, Princess. For me.” He whispered into her ear and she trembled. His words so sinful and delicious at the same time.

She let them spread apart as he eased himself between them. She was slim and feminine and he felt powerful and in control. Her hands were shaking as she brought her hands into his thick hair.

His cock bounced and lengthened and he thought of her tight walls around him. He moved her body against his and she fit into him perfectly. He could feel her moving into him.

Kat arched into him again and again and moaned into his mouth.

Mohammed stopped her hips from moving and settled her.

“Tell me no, Princess. I’ll not have you crying rape tomorrow. Tell me now and this ends.”

She shook her head almost violently. “No, please. I beg you – don’t stop. I have to feel you inside me. I want to be yours.” She didn’t care about tomorrow or anything but tonight. She needed him. She knew she would have regrets and pain but that was secondary. The wine flowed into her veins and her inhibitions left her. She wanted this proud man and nothing else mattered. She eased him to her.

He undressed quickly and she lifted up her dress. She was in too great a need and so was he.

His hips were slim but masculine as she spread her legs for him.

“Katharine.” He breathed into her hair and she arched into him.

“Please, Mohammed. More.” He had never heard his name on the lips of a woman in the midst of sex and it was his undoing.

He pulled back and thrust into her hot little core. He broke her hymen and she cried out once but he soothed her with kisses. Her nails raked his back again and again as he knew they would. Her marks would claim him as her lover just as her blood would stain his cock. They moved together and his hand grabbed her bottom pulling her into him harder and with force.

“Oh god.” She cried as the climax built and Mohammed could feel his cream building.

He pushed into her watching her body jerk up and down with his cock inside her. The tightness and the warmth were too much and he spilled his cream into her womb – empting his seed again and again until he was complete.

He watched as Kat gasped as he filled her and then rolled her on top of him. His arms brought her to him and he covered their bodies with a thick blanket. Her golden hair fanned about them and he smiled as she sank into sleep.

Mohammed knew the next Sheik of Arabia was inside her belly even as they lay falling asleep.

Yasmeen had watched the two fuck like disgusting street urchins from the small window. She had watched her husband’s eyes as he made love to the little whore and the whore’s response. He had watched her husband spill his seed inside her as he had never done before. All of the whores were fed special foods to ensure no seed survived – but not the pale whore. Her husband’s seed was sure to grow and mature with the young beauty. She couldn’t allow a foreign whore to have the next Sheik.

She knew from the servant’s gossip that one particular visitor tonight seemed to know the white whore. Yasmeen turned on her heel. Perhaps she could get a message to him to take her away. If not, she would have the slut kidnapped and sold. Preferably an ugly pirate who would give her to his men to rape. She smiled happily. The whore’s days were numbered. She would be gone by the end of the week – Yasmeen swore on Allah’s name. 



The Sheik & the Slave Ch. 06



Kat awoke with a headache that pounded against her temples. She had never drunk alcohol at home and the wine she had consumed the evening before had been sweet – masking its alcohol taste. It had tasted more like sweet juice and she had been deceived by the flavor.

She looked over to her right. The Sheik slept soundly with one masculine leg draped over hers. His position was one of arrogance and possession. His one arm was thrown behind her head and most of her silken hair was caught underneath it.

She felt tired despite the fact that she had slept most of the night. Her legs felt heavy and she felt sore between them. It wasn't an unpleasant feeling just one she wasn't used to.

She thought of the night again and again in her mind and was suddenly ashamed. She had given herself to him with abandon and lust and now she was embarrassed. He was a sheik with a wife and many concubines and now that she had given him her virginity there was nothing left to hold onto.

Her virgin's blood should have been reserved for her husband and now she was used goods. Yasmeen was right. She would be used again and again and over and over until he had tired of her – and then he would sell her to someone else. She would become nothing to him.

Damn! She thought bitterly. Alcohol should be outlawed! She never would have given into him without the alcohol – no matter that she wanted him. It was wrong.

She began to ease away from him. She untangled her legs from his and her hair from underneath his arm. She turned back to look at him sleeping soundly. His face looked younger in sleep and she gazed at the planes of his face. His cheekbones and bronze skin and the goatee that had tickled her the night before in places no man had ever touched. She blushed and dressed quickly before he awoke.

* * *

Bashasha watched beneath hooded eyes as the young girl entered the harem. Most of the women had gone to spend the night with the foreign men. Only two had remained due to illness. She watched the young girl walk slowly into the room. Half afraid of the room and half enjoying some sort of familiarity – Kat made her way to her small sleeping pallet.

Bashasha watched the young girl's legs scissor as she walked and sighed. She was flushed pink and her manner was different. She had been with the sheik. Bashasha recognized well the signs of sexual conquest and possession. She thought the young girl would never give in to him. But according to the servants last night – Lady Kat had been drinking heavily and eating little.

She knew the young girl would be tired and Bashasha was determined to have her work as little as possible today unless she was specifically asked for.

* * *

Mohammed awoke smiling. His little princess had been a delight as he knew she would be. Her surrender had been all the sweeter for he knew she had wanted it too. She had been tight and pleasing and he had enjoyed the fact that he had been the first man to touch and claim her.

Her body had arched to meet his and he had pleased them both. He rolled over and was surprised to find her gone. Was she bathing? He knew not – but he was deeply disappointed to not have woken up with her in his arms. It set his mood already. It irritated him. Her only job or place now – was to please him and to bear his children. He would accept nothing less.

* * *

Kat tried to sleep in her small place in the harem but her dreams were filled with him – just as he had filled her the night before. She was deeply ashamed and knew that she had acted wrongly. She never should have slept with him. She was strongly attracted to him for he was a handsome man – but that did not make it right.

She tossed and turned thinking of the Englishman that was so near to her under the Sheik's roof. She must find a way of contacting him. He was her only hope now.

* * *

It was late afternoon when Bashasha was informed that the Sheik was asking for his bather. For the first time since she had ever known him – Bashasha wanted to defy him but knew she wouldn't. She summoned the young girl before her and told her she was wanted by the Sheik.

Lady Kat looked away from the older woman as tears formed in her eyes. She didn't want to see him. She knew she was weak – so very very weak and he was too strong. Her body became a traitorous, slut thing when around him. She hated it. When she watched his dark, liquid eyes stare at her she would blush. When his eyes traveled down the length of her – and he would – she would feel her juices begin and fall upon her upper thighs. Her breasts would grow warm and her nipples would tighten as she imagined his hard cock inside her and a blush spread across her cheekbones – she had to deny him.

* * *

Kat dressed in her attire. The cool, silken pants that revealed more than concealed – her blouse that pressed her breasts up and out into his view and molded them perfectly and her bracelets and anklets that proclaimed her as slave.

She entered into the Sheik's private bathing room. No one was around but she grimaced in anger and fright. The room was lowly lit with candles everywhere and incense burned in the room. She felt her head spin as she realized this room had been set for seduction not a mid-day bathing.

* * *

Mohammed was speaking to his councilman as he entered the bathhouse. He watched with amusement as Daleel, his trusted adviser, turned to stare at Kat. Daleel's eyes darkened with lust and wanting as he took in Kat's lovely form.

"That is all, Daleel." He spoke lowly but with no anger. He knew he could not stop men from looking at and wanting her. She was so very beautiful.

"Allah, be praised." Daleel spoke and bowed before Mohammed casting one last glance at the young woman.

Mohammed walked stealthily toward her divesting himself of his robes and clothes until he was naked sinking into the bath.

Kat tried to look away but found she was drawn to him. His body was muscular and firm and his skin so bronzed – he was lovely to look at.

"Why did you leave this morning?" Mohammed winced even as he spoke. He had never cared what happened to his women after they had been fucked. As long as they were fed and safe it had never mattered.

"I have other duties." Kat responded as she stepped gingerly into the bath.

"You're only duty is to me!" He told her harshly, grabbing her by the arm and pulling her fully into the water before him.

"Let me go!" Kat told him struggling in his arms and the water sluiced between them until the slickness of his naked chest caused her to slip into him.

His fingers wound into her long golden hair as he held her head still. "You're only duty is to me. When I call you – you come. Whether I call you to bath me – to read to me – to lie beneath me – you will come."

"I am not one of your whores!" She cried in desperation. Yasmeen was right! She would be used and used until she was old or dried up and then thrown away.

Mohammed struggled with his emotions. She was so proud and lovely – but he couldn't let her see all the control she held over him. He could not afford to show her any weakness.

"You are my slave. By law in this land. If I tell you to bath me – then you will do so. If I summon you every single night to my bed – you will come. I will have you as you were last night. In my arms – pliant and warm and with your tight pussy surrounding my cock." His last words were coarse and raw and meant to offend her.

"Then you will rape me every night because I will never come to you. I will come because you order it – but I will never come willingly." Her blue eyes glistened in the low light. And his hands weaved out of her hair.

"Rape?" He almost smiled but didn't. His warm, large hands slid down her slim arms as her breath quickened. He unbuttoned her blouse/corset and his fingers flicked across her tightened nipple.

"Rape?" He mused again and smiled this time. He bent to kiss her soft mouth but she turned away from him. His mouth touched her fragile neck and bit lightly. She gasped aloud in the small room and he pulled her slim body tightly to his.

His cock ached to be inside her as he had been last night. The tight pussy had held him and rippled around him and he had dreamed of it again.

"You don't know the meaning of rape. You just don't want to admit that you need this, Princess. That already you cream for me...wanting me." He breathed into her ear as she closed her eyes. Damn him! Why was he doing this? Shaming her? Her blouse had fallen into the water and he crudely pulled her pants down and spun her around to hold onto the side of the small pool as he bent her over.

"Tell me you want this, Princess." He growled to her as his cock pressed into her ass. Her small globes met his cock and protected her entrance. He would never take her in the ass – not yet. But he noticed with satisfaction that she moved to allow him to fuck her. And this time he was going to fuck her hard. She wanted to act the virginal girl even now – now as she creamed and yearned for the fuck.

Kat shook her head as he told her to answer him. But her pussy was wet already. Too wet. And she needed his cock inside her. She couldn't take much more. She couldn't deny in her heart that she wanted his cock. Her small nails scraped into the marble tiles as she held onto them.

He stroked her small twin globes and noticed she trembled like an Arabian mare before the taking.

"Little Falcon." He breathed into her ear as he leaned over her bent body.

He spread her ass cheeks apart and fondled the small tiny button that had never been breached.

"No!" She shook her head vigorously. It was wanton! It was evil, Kat thought as he inserted one small finger into her little button.

His other hand manipulated her pussy and found it wet and dripping as he knew it would be. He took his cock in his one hand and guided it to her entrance.

"Please." Kat murmured as his cock rammed into her tight pussy.

It was so delicious, Mohammed thought. He hadn't had a virgin in some time and it was delicious. He used her breasts to anchor her to him as he pounded in and out of her. His hands moved down the length of her body and he grabbed onto her hips. The slapping of her ass against his hips echoed in the room as the water sloshed inside the small pool.

He could hear her delicate cries of passion as he pounded her. He knew she wanted this. She needed this just as most people need sex. He could feel her trembling and reach her peak as his cream erupted inside her splashing the inside walls of her small vagina.

He pulled out of her and watched her turn around and grab her blouse and cover her breasts.

"Is that all, sir?" Kat asked, adopting a servile attitude.

Mohammed gritted his teeth and watched as she lowered her eyes and adopted a proper servant's attitude.

"Which are you more ashamed about, Princess? The fact that I forced you – or the fact that you liked it?"

He watched as her eyes flashed up to meet his. Here was his little Falcon.

"Whether I liked it or not doesn't matter. I'm your whore now."

Mohammed was irritated now. "You are not my whore."

"Summon me tonight with one of the other girls. Initiate me into group sex. I have heard of them. Or better yet – I'll bathe now and you can send me to pleasure one of the foreign men. I'm sure they would enjoy me." Her eyes were flat now. She had enjoyed the sex. More than she cared to admit, but what was she to receive in return? A bastard child? A house where she was pointed at and stared at? What?

Mohammed grabbed her shoulders. "Stop it! I will share you with no one!" He yelled inside the room.

Kat tried to pull away from him. "Send me to do other work in your palace for I swear before god I will not lie with you again!" Her eyes flashed blue fire. "If you take me again – I will kill myself." She looked into his eyes and he knew she spoke the truth.

"So be it." He told her pushing her away from him even as she felt his seed slide down her legs.

He struggled with his emotions just as she did with hers. He knew he could not hold her this way.

"Since laying with me is such a disgusting chore than you may go back to being the harem bather. You may ready and bath the women to come to me."

Kat almost disagreed with him until she saw his face. It was set and stony and she realized she was pushing him too far.

She set her jaw and watched his face. He was so beautiful and she loved him a little already but not so that she could become nothing to him. That she could not face.

"I will notify Bashasha."

Kat nodded.

"And you will stay here in the palace as a worker – no longer a slave."

Kat met his eyes in surprise but he had already turned away and left.

* * *

Kat entered the harem to be met by Bashasha.

"What ails you, little one?" She asked Kat. But Kat had already turned away to lie upon her pillows and blankets in the corner.

She cried quietly so no one would hear her. She had given her heart away to a man who could never love her and her body and virginity would forever stain him. She was a fool.

* * *

Harem activity resumed to normal. The foreigners continued to be around and pleasured and the women worked. Kat was surprised that as the weeks went on the Sheik only ever requested Farasha. The other women were occupied with the foreign men and didn't notice but Kat did.

"Bashasha, why has the Sheik not requested any of the other women?" Kat asked one day as they folded silk blankets together.

Bashasha rolled her eyes at the young girl.

"Bashasha?" She repeated.

"You are a silly girl." Came the reply.

"Why?" Kat asked confused.

"You know why, little one."

"I truly don't." Kat asked as she handed a vibrant orange silk blanket to the eunuch as he walked away.

"Farasha is the only women in the harem who enjoys anal sex."

"Anal?"

"Sex up the bottom."

"Oh." Kat answered turning pink. "So?"

"Well, I assume that because the Sheik cannot have the woman he wants above all else – no one else will do. So sex with Farasha will suffice."

Kat turned her large eyes to Bashasha and then turned away. "I see." But her heart thudded unnaturally as she thought of the Sheik keeping himself from all else – because he could not have her.

Kat has resumed her Harem duties as a worker. She helped Bashasha with small details such as counting blankets, sorting towels and re-filling oils. Bashasha had not seemed surprised at Kat's return to her duties and said nothing. Kat enjoyed her role as bather especially since she seemed to be more of a massager and confidant then bather. She began to learn small bits of Arabic and Bashasha schooled her in the long afternoons and nights when their work was complete.

Kat especially loved her time alone. She loved walking in the small garden that connected to the Harem. It was filled with palm trees and lush plants and two small fountains. She had bound up her hair as the sun beat down upon the white buildings and walked quietly.

She was alone at this time of the day – the afternoon – when most of the household took a small nap. She was walking around the corner when she heard a small twig snap.

"Hello?" She rounded the corner and almost crashed into the Sheik.

"Princess." He spoke quietly and stood with a book in his hand.

"I didn't mean to disturb you." She told him and her eyes watched him lay the book across the bench and stand before her.

"You do disturb." He spoke to her and his eyes wandered over the length of her. He had seen her from afar but had kept his distance. When she was close like this – and when he was alone with her – he wanted nothing more than to touch her and make love to her. He wanted to see her underneath him – taking his cock inside her body and cumming hard upon it.

His fingers brushed across her collarbones and touched her neck. He couldn't stop.

"Are you unwell?" She asked him as her heartbeat sped faster at his touch. Why did he have to touch her? She could stand anything but his warmth upon her body. His fingers were like magic warming her at his touch.

"Yes." He said as his fingers threaded into her hair finding her tortoise combs and pulling them out.

"Don't." She shook her head but his fingers tangled into her hair.

He stood directly before her as his mouth and nose breathed in the Patchouli sent of her silken tresses.

"Why Patchouli?" He asked as his hands moved over her shoulders.

"Because –" She couldn't finish. She couldn't tell him.

"Because?" He asked, his mouth touching her neck and his hand sliding down to her breasts.

"Because you like it." She said so quietly he barely heard her.

His mouth captured hers and his tongue delved into it again and again. She could feel his goatee rub against her soft skin and she thrilled at it. His hands moved down to her bottom to cup it and pull it into his hardened cock. He could feel his cock bounce at the closeness of her tight pussy. Kat could only feel as his hands wandered the length of her body and she became the woman he wanted. A soft, pliant woman who only wanted his lovemaking. She was lost until he suddenly pushed her away from him.

She stared up at his handsome, bronzed face and he looked back at her.

"Keep your distance, Princess. Lest you get raped again." She saw him clench his jaw and she turned and left him.

Mohammed, Sheik of Arabia, stood in his small private garden holding onto his thoughts of the slim young woman and holding in his hand her two small combs.

* * *

Kat's thoughts whirled around her. She had to leave this place. She was losing her sanity. Given half the chance she would have begged the sheik to take her in the garden not caring who had been watching. She was mad! She was losing her mind in this small palace where no one knew she existed.

Worse than her mind, she was giving into her lustful wants and desires with no promises of tomorrow. She wanted him and nothing else seemed to matter. Why had she given in to him? Why? Other men had wanted her in England and she had never caved – why now? 

She knew it was him. He was powerful and sensual and he looked at her as no other man had. It was a look that would consume and burn.

She stumbled into the harem not sure of her thoughts. It was so dark inside. Even with the low candles – it was too dark. The last thing she remembered was something hitting her head as she fell to the floor.

Yasmeen smiled as she tossed aside the large object she had used to attack the girl.

"Little whore. You made too many enemies." She watched as the two men bundled up the girl to take her away. 



The Sheik & the Slave Ch. 07



The man looked at the young girl beneath hooded eyes. Fajer was well known in Arabia and beyond for all the wrong reasons. He was the man you turned to if you wanted something smuggled into Arabia, something smuggled out of Arabia and anything else that was illegal or forbidden.

His fingers dropped the greasy chicken leg back onto the plate and he brushed his hand idly on his stomach. His girth was large and robust after many years of easy living and allowing his underlings to do most of his dirty work. He owned a large estate on the edge of the sea and enjoyed his three concubines but this was a matter he had to attend to himself.

His fingers brushed the long golden hair of the girl and she startled back. His dark hooded eyes took in her porcelain perfect face, lush feminine curves and eyes like the Arabian sea.

He could feel himself stirring. He was a stout man at 5 feet 5 inches with a large rotund body, little hair on top of his head and too much hair everywhere else. He had never been a handsome man even when he had been young but he made up for it with his cunning and devious ways.

His chicken stained fingers brushed into the girl’s hair again and he watched her struggle with the bonds that held her hands tightly behind her. So the stories were true. It had been rumored that the great Sheik had been so taken with a foreign beauty that he had forsaken his concubines and wife and had become obsessed with the girl.

Seeing her beauty before him – he didn’t doubt the stories or the obsession. Here was a beauty that men fought and died for. His chicken drenched fingers dipped into her gauze like blouse fingering the tight nipple as he smiled. She was a beauty. He would give the little bitch Yasmeen whatever she wanted as long as the foreign woman would taste his cock this evening.

Kat shook her head and tried to move away – she couldn’t. She could feel the rope biting into her wrists that held her tightly bound. Her breasts were thrust forward and she wanted to cry out as the odious man that Yasmeen had taken her to – touched her intimately. She struggled again but they had put a cloth over her mouth.

Kat had been given a glass of water and then the two men who had helped Yasmeen in her plan had tied her up and covered her mouth. She was truly at the mercy of the Sheik’s wife.

“My lord.” Yasmeen stood to one side watching the scene with amusement and disgust. She loathed Fajer.

Fajer was a fat little fuck who had been born of a whore and a camel breeder. Growing up he had never had more than a handful of riyals to his name. He had been a street urchin, then a hoodlum of the streets and then a mercenary. Slowly he had built himself a house of gold from his evil doings. Yasmeen must have been crazy to have come alone here to sell the little cunt – but Fajer was her only hope. He alone could secure the whore’s passage out of Arabia and never tell a soul…for a price.

“Yasmeen.” Fajer hated doing business with women especially an uppity bitch like Yasmeen who didn’t know her place and never observed Hijab – the special covering reserved for Muslim women to cover their head and body for Allah.

“My lord Fajer, I require your assistance for a small price.” She spoke reverently and bowed slightly.

Kat watched the two Arabians discuss what was most likely her fate. She had known that Yasmeen had been behind this plot to destroy her. She should have been more careful. Now she was being molested by this odious man who would rape her and than sell her into white slavery.

I have been so stupid, Kat thought. Where is Mohammed?

Fajer listened to Yasmeen drone away and watched the young foreign beauty. She would have a tight, glistening pussy that would constrict and hold his cock and legs that he would pull and force to come around his waist. Her breasts would be high and lovely as he jerked into her slick passage and he would make sure he had satisfied himself and maybe her – maybe. Although a woman’s pleasure was never necessary.

He listened to Yasmeen’s voice and his eyes suddenly wandered over her form. She was also a beautiful woman. Sultry and dark in a truly Arabian way. She was more full of form than the white girl with eyes that were dark and dangerous. She had long black hair and her body was the color of honey.

He stopped touching the girl’s hair and realized he wanted the uppity Yasmeen instead.

Here was a bitch to tame and torture appropriately. A bitch to be put onto all fours and taken roughly like a dog. Her ass would be high in the air as he slapped her again and again and stuffed his thick meat into her ass and pussy.

Yes, he thought idly as he rubbed himself with no shame.

Yasmeen watched the fat Fajer touch himself. Disgusting pig! He wanted the little cunt already and she had just arrived awhile ago. Why did all the men lust after her? She was a pale little thing with white skin, golden hair and Arabian sea eyes…so what? Did her pussy taste like honey? What was the fuss about?

Yasmeen continued to tell Fajer about her plan to get Kat out of the country and on a ship to Africa where she would be sold into slavery.

Fajer stroked himself again and watched the way Yasmeen’s eyes glowed in anticipation. The dark kohl surrounding her eyes made them seem wide and exotic. He thought of the little bitch taking his cock into her mouth. His cock was suddenly rock hard underneath his chicken stained robe. Yes, he thought to himself. She needs to know the proper place of a woman.

“It is indeed an interesting situation, Princess Yasmeen.” Fajer noticed that the white girl was drifting off to sleep. Yasmeen must have drugged her.

“I agree, Fajer. It will all go according to plan and none will be the wiser.”

“What about Lord Mohammed? Won’t he miss his little treasure?”

Yasmeen snorted. “Who cares about the little cunt? He has a harem filled with beautiful women – what is one more?”

Fajer chuckled. The little bitch was jealous. He didn’t blame her. The white woman was one to be jealous of – she would surely take over in Yasmeen’s stead.

“What does Lord Mohammed think has happened? Does he know yet?”

Yasmeen studied the sleeping girl and sighed. “He knows she is gone – but not who has done the deed.”

Yasmeen remembered the scene. She had hidden the little cunt in a nearby nomad’s tent until she had been ready to leave in the night. Mohammed had summoned the whore and had discovered her missing. He had been furious – in a rage –when he discovered his precious little cunt was missing. He had torn the palace apart – he had been inconsolable. He had sent riders out to the four corners of Arabia and had been awaiting their news when Yasmeen had departed.

“Why come here alone and risk discovery and his wrath?” Fajer asked.

“He would never suspect me. And the men I hired to carry her and deposit us here are long gone but were paid well. No one will ever be the wiser.” Yasmeen nodded smugly.

Fajer nodded. “You have thought of everything.”

Yasmeen nodded and looked down at him sprawled on the pillows. “Yes.”

“What about an outsider – telling Lord Mohammed about his beloved’s presence?”

“Who would do such a thing?”

“Or keeping quiet in exchange for something else?”

“What do you –“ Yasmeen stopped. The fat fuck!!! Of course! She had been so blind to think everything would have been easy. He would turn on her. He would get more money from Mohammed to return the little cunt to him and she would be exiled or worse.

“I have no need of your gold or wealth. I have all I could require and more.” Fajer spoke lowly to her.

Yasmeen remained silent.

“But to have the high and mighty bitch princess Yasmeen taking my stiff fat cock up her cunt – now that is something worth trading.”

Yasmeen looked shocked and appalled. He didn’t want her money – but he did want her. It was disgusting! He was disgusting! She would never do it. Never!

“I’ll take my time with you, Yasmeen. And when I have had my fill, and my big black Moors have had their fill, you and I and the little foreign girl will all go back to the Sheik. I’ll be a hero and you – you will most likely be dead.” He chuckled to himself. 

Yasmeen was ready to bolt, ready to strike out when he clapped his hands twice.

His two large muscled Moors appeared suddenly. They immediately held her arms as she struggled and cursed his name. The Moors were large black men who had been in the service of Fajer many many years. They had participated in his group sex acts before and enjoyed the squirming and cries of the women as well as Fajer.

“You disgusting piece of shit!!!” Yasmeen began kicking the Moors and tried to spit on them.

“Cover her mouth. I have no need of that soft orifice yet.” The Moors covered her mouth as they had been instructed with a piece of cloth.

Fajer eyed her body and clapped once. The large Moors stripped her body naked as she was held between the two of them.

Fajer came slowly to his feet. His girth and body was large and he was not agile as in his younger days.

“Oh yes.” He purred. She was the color of honey with her breasts dangling but not too saggy from her two girl children. She had a slim waist, spread hips and long legs with a snatch that held but a sprinkling of hair. Fajer ran his hands over her body as if assessing a prize mare. He cupped her breasts, roamed down her belly and dipped his fingers into her tight snatch. 

Yasmeen cried out into the gag but Fajer only laughed.

“For such a woman – you still have a tight pussy.” He referred to her two pregnancies.

Yasmeen struggled between the two black men but they held her tightly at their master’s request.

Fajer picked up a small jar at his right and dipped his fingers into it. A white creamy liquid covered his fingers. He smiled and advanced upon Yasmeen. She tried to kick and squirm but she was no match for the large black Moors.

Fajer nodded once and suddenly Yasmeen was thrown upon the blankets and pillows face down. The sleeping foreign beauty was but a few feet away. Each Moor held her arm to the bed so that she could only move her legs and lower body. One black man stuffed a pillow underneath her hips as Fajer advanced upon her. He settled himself between her legs and smothered the cream into her ass cheeks and tight asshole.

“Ah, I see the Sheik has never initiated you into the finer art of anal sex. I will be your first, Princess Yasmeen.” He smiled as she shook her head and cried aloud, but the pillow and gag smothered her words.

“The more you struggle, the more pain you will cause yourself.” Fajer stripped himself naked and his large body was filled with rolls of fat, sagging flesh, and too much hair. The two Moors looked on and enjoyed the sight of the beautiful woman at this fat man’s beck and call. She would surrender – she had no choice.

“Either way – my cock will have its taste of you.” His hard cock thrust forward and its purple bulbous head looked angry and mean.

Yasmeen’s ass wiggled in the air as she struggled but it was no use.

Fajer’s hands moved Yasmeen’s ass onto the pillow, which popped her ass into the air for a better angle and view. Her ass was slim and round and he enjoyed her squirms and muffled cries.

Fajer had never been married and enjoyed sleeping with women but his pet peeve had always been raping and using women. He considered them the weaker sex and hated women like Yasmeen who didn’t know or chose not to abide by their rightful place. His cock was the equalizer that would show Yasmeen who indeed was boss.

“Squirm, lovely princess. Fight me.” His hand whipped out and slapped Yasmeen against her high ass- coloring it red.

She shook her head and he chuckled. The Moors were growing restless wanting a piece of the princess also. Fajer’s liver-spotted hands cupped her breasts and roamed down the length of her delicious body.

He settled himself between her spread thighs and his cock was positioned between her ass cheeks.

Yasmeen cried into the pillow and struggled but Fajer took his cock in hand and pressed it into her ass. It slipped into the tight hole and he sighed. She was as tight as a virgin on her wedding night. The sheik had never fucked her here.

“Yes.” His cock slipped in further and further and Yasmeen tried to dislodge his fat cock.

He suddenly held her lower hips in both hands and slammed into her tight asshole. He began banging away into her tight virgin ass.

His hips slapped into her ass again and again he forced his cock up into her.

Yasmeen was crying out into the pillow. He pulled back once and then slid his meat back into her. She cried once more and then he felt her suddenly push back into him. She was creaming at his touch and he nodded to the Moor on her right. The Moor released her arm and untied her gag. He moved himself beneath her head and suddenly Yasmeen was suckling on the black Moor’s enormous cock. Yasmeen filled her small mouth with the Moor’s huge cock and he fucked her mouth. She moved her realized hand beneath her body to massage her clit as Fajer fucked her ass.

“Oh, yes, yes. Harder, Lord Fajer. Harder.” She moaned into the man’s cock as Fajer and the Moor stuffed her.

The second Moor released her arm and positioned himself underneath her hips and shoved his thick meat into her hungry pussy as Fajer continued to fuck her ass. Her pussy constricted around the thick cock and she cried aloud.

The three men began pumping her harder and harder. Fajer was pulling her ass hole wider and wider as his cock pumped into her while the Moor in front of her was fucking her mouth. The other Moor was pushing his cock deeper into her as he split her open with his thick dark meat.

Oh Allah. Allah, Yasmeen moaned to herself as the hands everywhere roamed her body and she became the sexual orifice for the men. She was no longer a woman with a mind and spirit – she was the ultimate toy for men to satisfy their appetites. She was a mere vehicle in which men would be able to achieve their release. She was only here for their sexual needs, she wanted their needs to be met, she was merely the means to achieve it.

Fajer finished first quickly climaxing inside her ass and then pulling out. The Moor before Yasmeen came into her mouth and then onto her face while the Moor buried deep inside her tight cunt climaxed harshly inside her - crying out and then pulling Yasmeen onto his body.

The four people lay exhausted and in a tight heap of body parts and wet sticky bodily fluids.

Kat lay curled on her side sleeping peacefully on the pillows and blankets completely undisturbed.

Mohammed threw the crystal glass into the wall. The frustration at his uselessness was driving him mad. It had only been two days but already he felt like time was running out. Who had done this monstrous thing? And why? Had Kat been kidnapped by ruffians wanting to exact their revenge on him? Was she being held by men who wanted money for her return?

Or worse yet – had she been spotted or seen by someone whose lust would never be sated until she lay underneath that man struggling and being raped over and over again? It drove him crazy. All these thoughts running in and out of his head. Where was she?????? 

Suddenly outside the room he heard a knock. Bashasha was admitted into his presence.

“Forgive me, my lord. But it has come to my attention that my lady Yasmeen is missing also.”

“What??” Mohammed turned to the older woman.

Yasmeen and the others were fast asleep when Kat awoke. She felt disoriented and her head swam. Where was she? Then she remembered. Yasmeen and her hired ruffians had kidnapped her. She looked around and saw the two Moors, the fat man and Yasmeen all sleeping soundly in a massive heap. Disgusting, thought Kat. She quietly untied her hands and left the tent. She had to make her way back to the palace and back to Mohammed. But how? 



The Sheik & the Slave Ch. 08



I have not been in the mood to write lately but I have been inundated with emails asking me to continue the Sheik and the Slave story. I do enjoy the romance between Kat and Mohammed and I have missed them. It is to all my fans who have encouraged me to continue to write this story that I dedicate this chapter – I hope you enjoy it.



Kat’s hand was bleeding. She had used a spear stabbed in the sand by one of the Moors to free herself. In her excitement and haste to be away – she had also sliced her right palm. She wrapped a purple scarf around her palm to stop the bleeding. She pushed back the flap of the tent and looked outside into the desert. Her heart sank. It was dark and for miles in all directions all she could see was the sand dunes that dominated the desert. Kat flung herself out into the night. She would rather die in the desert than become that fat slob’s whore.

Bashasha had been summoned before the Sheik.

“Any sign of Yasmeen?” Mohammed asked the older woman, his quiet voice belying his simmering anger.

“No, my lord. But she did disappear about the same time Lady Kat went missing. I can’t help but thinking Yasmeen is involved in her disappearance.”

Mohammed nodded. “I agree. Have the riders discovered anything?” He asked after the men who had been sent across the desert to scout for Kat.

“No, my lord. I am sorry, but no word yet has been heard from Lady Kat or her disappearance.”

Mohammed shuddered and lowered his head. “Leave me.”

“Please my lord, let me stay with you.” Bashasha feared for his peace of mind.

“Leave me.” He told her coldly.

****

Kat had no way of knowing that has she stepped away from Fajer and Yasmeen’s evil plans she walked into greater peril as a desert dust storm was just beginning. The dust storms were known to be dangerous and even life threatening. When Kat first set out she thought that it was early morning because of her inability to see very clearly. Then she realized the dust had begun to swirl and twist and though she had heard of them from the harem women – Kat was walking through a dangerous dust storm. 

As Kat continued to try and walk through the dust swirling around her – it became impossible. The dust spit into her eyes, her mouth, her hair and her ears. Kat knew she would die out in this desert never to be found. She fell to her knees and then collapsed. Her last thought before she sank into oblivion wasn’t of the green trees of England or the deserts of Arabia – it was the dark sensuous eyes of Mohammed and his mouth as he kissed her.

****

Yasmeen arched her body like a bitch in heat as one of the black moors settled his large muscular body over her delicate one. With no words or preliminaries the black moor thrust her legs apart and shoved his large cock inside her. She had fallen asleep directly after the night’s fun so her cunt was still filled with the Moors sperm and her own juices. The Moor grunted as his cock filled the girl and Yasmeen cried lightly as not to wake the other two men. Secretly she wanted to wake the other two and have a repeat of the night before. The Moor grasped her honey colored thighs hard as he continued to pound into her.

Yasmeen arched as the black cock filled her body and she reached up to touch his chest. Her nipples tightened in response and she squeezed her eyes shut in pleasure.

****

The two teenagers were fighting as they returned to the large main tent in the desert. 

“I think she’s dead!” Said the younger Bikr. At twelve years old he was given to exaggerations and enjoyed making scenes to embarrass his mother and father.

“She’s not dead, Bikr. She’s alive and we need to tell father,” spoke the older Saber. Saber was 15 years old and his father’s pride and joy. As Bikr scampered off to find trouble, Saber went to find his father.

Saber and his father Majeed remained seated on their camels as they looked at the half covered form in the sand. She was half buried beneath it and her face was underneath her arm. She looked ragged and both men couldn’t guess how long she had been in the desert.

“A woman from another tribe?” Asked young Saber.

“Could be.” Majeed nodded at his son’s question. There were many Bedouin tribes such as his that wandered the desert. Some were linked by family, others by marriage but rarely did anyone venture into the great desert when a dust storm was upon them – they knew better. And this storm that passed had been going on a few days.

“Why would she go out in such a storm, Father?” Asked Saber.

“Perhaps she was lost.” Majeed dismounted and Saber followed. “We’ll take her to the camp and allow the women to attend her.”

Majeed walked to the form and knelt beside her. When he turned her over in his arms Saber gasped. Majeed looked down at the woman he held and was also shocked. The woman had golden blonde hair that blended into the desert’s sands and her skin was cream colored. Her face was lovely and against his will Majeed could feel himself stir.

He lifted her easily and settled himself and the girl on his camel.

“Come, Saber.” 

Rana was charged to look after the young girl. Rana was the first and only wife of the Sheik Majeed. Since Rana had given Majeed two sons and a baby girl – Majeed had never thought to take any more wives. He had only ever wanted sons to help and continue on with his tribal duties when he was dead and Rana had done her duty by providing him sons. Since Majeed was not a sexual man – he was content to rule over his tribe with only one wife. In addition, he knew of many sheiks that had large harems and many wives and the trouble the women caused was not worth the sexual pleasure.

Rana had bathed and given the girl an Abaya to wear. An Abaya was a floor length gown with long sleeves that modestly covered the entire body. As Kat slept she bathed the girl’s forehead with jasmine scented cloths and tried to keep her comfortable.

Rana looked over the girl’s lithe frame with envy. Rana had never been a beauty. She was the youngest daughter of a neighboring sheik and had gown up coddled by her father. Though Rana’s sisters had been beauties, Rana was not. But what Rana lacked in face and form she made up for in sweetness and kindness. She was a devout Muslim, a loving mother and caring wife. When Majeed had been looking to marry those 16 years ago – Rana thought he would certainly pick one of her sisters. But Majeed was not interested in beauty. Majeed had seen how women and beauty could too easily turn a man’s eye and head. Instead he had settled for Rana and had never regretted his choice.

Rana had bathed the girl with the help of her women and all had admired the girl’s face and figure. Her golden hair had been cleaned and pinned back and her oval face had been washed and creamed with almond oil. Rana could not help but think the foreign woman was more beautiful than all of her sisters and any woman she had ever seen. Perhaps it was the uniqueness of her creamy skin and hair but she could not help but wonder what Majeed would think.

Majeed had come into the room quietly. His wife and ladies had gone to tend to the evening meal and Majeed wanted to see the young beauty. She lay asleep on the pillows and blankets inside his wife’s tent. She was dressed modestly in a pink Abaya but Majeed could see her nipples taut and stiff through the material. He knelt beside her as he had done in the desert. His fingers itched to touch her and he couldn’t stop himself.

Majeed was an attractive man in his late 30s. He was tall and muscular with brown hair and brown eyes. He wore a beard which aged him but he was an attractive man never given to impulses until now.

His fingers encircled his nipples and Kat moaned in her sleep. She arched and stretched and Majeed covered her mouth with his. He pulled her to him and Kat awoke in his arms. She moved her face away from his mouth. 

“No.” She shook her head and Majeed was dazzled. Her eyes were blue like the Arabian sea and they were wide and innocent.

Kat’s head spinned as she tried to grasp where she was and with whom. Her hands came in touch with his muscular chest and she tried to separate them. She was frightened but as her head continued to spin she murmured, “Help me,” and sank into the pillows and oblivion.

Majeed stared at the sleeping beauty but was distracted by a noise and turned toward it.

“Rana!” Majeed stood up.

Her eyes were accusing and in pain.

“My lord.” Was all she said and exited the tent quickly.

Majeed cursed the beauty. He had been right. Women, especially beautiful ones were only trouble. He looked down at her. A woman of her unusual coloring was obviously not a native Arabian. She must therefore be either a slave, concubine or a foreign visitor. Either way he owed it to his wife and his own sanity to find her rightful place and be rid of her.

He sighed. He would take Saber and a few of his men and visit the neighboring Sheiks to see if anyone knew anything about the pale beauty.

****

Saber shivered as the fever swept his body. Rana looked at her eldest son in horror. She feared for his life.

“I won’t leave until he is better,” Majeed spoke softly to Rana.

“Thank you my lord.” She leaned into his form for strength.

****

Mohammed sank his head into his hands. It had been a week with no sign of her. The second riders had come back exhausted and with no word. It had been an excruciating wait and one that held no satisfaction. He decided that either Yasmeen had secured a passage for her and sent her away or she had been sold into slavery – a frightening thought. Even with Kat’s spirit – the outside world of slavery was evil. In the harem she had been safe from everyone except him. In the outside world, the ship’s captain would have her, the sailors would have a go at her and by the end of the voyage she would be sold to a dirty brothel or worse. Mohammed couldn’t stand it.

He needed to get away. He had many brothers but his favorite was the farthest away on the edge of the great desert. He would travel there as quickly as possible.

****

Kat was seated inside the tent as she picked at her food. She knew Majeed’s eyes were on her as they always were. Rana was still tending to their eldest boy named Saber who was recovering from an illness. Majeed had dismissed the servants and so they remained alone.

Kat stole glances at Majeed when he was eating. He was a tall man, golden skinned with brown hair and eyes. He reminded Kat of Mohammed except Majeed was slimmer in build and his beard aged him. Majeed was attractive but he did not have Mohammed dark looks and seductive gazes. Kat shivered at the memories. Nor did he have Mohammed’s possessive way of speaking - always wanted and demanding.

“Are you cold, beauty?” Majeed asked quietly from across the many pillows.

“No, I’m well. I wish you would call me by name. Katharine.” She asked not wanting to fight him in any way.

She knew from the time she had been in the Sheik’s care that he was only married to one woman and had no harem. He was a quiet, studious man who relished his power and yielded it extremely wisely. He was greatly respected but she worried he would take notice of her and want her for himself. As a respected Sheik, no one would deny him.

“Where did you learn Arabic?” Majeed asked her.

“From another Sheik which is where I want to be returned to.” Kat had tried to talk to him about being returned to Mohammed but he would never let her raise the subject.

“You don’t like it here, beauty?” Majeed’s voice had lowered and he moved toward her.

“Yes, but I – “

“Yes?” Majeed lowered himself to sit beside her. She gazed up at him with eyes that were blue and wide. His palm touched her face and it was like silk. He hardened at the thought of taking her right there in his tent. The thought of her creamy thighs spread wide as she accepted his cock spurred him on.

“Please.” Kat tried to move away from the close proximity but he caught her in his arms.

“You were this man’s wife?” Majeed touched her face and brought her to sit upon his lap while Kat struggled.

“No.” Kat said breathlessly.

“Servant?” Majeed continued to pry as his hands moved underneath her long Abaya.

“Please – “ Kat gasped and tried to stop his hands.

“Perhaps a concubine? A woman used to giving away her body?” His hands moved up her silken naked legs finding her thighs. His mouth touched her neck.

“No!” Kat colored at the question and his hands and struggled again.

“I want you to stay here as my guest.” His hands had stopped at her upper thighs and Kat’s heart beat strongly in her throat.

“And at the first chance, will you send me back where I belong?”

“Of course. But you might find out that you belong here.” Majeed was bewitched by her words, her accent so foreign yet speaking the Arabic tongue and a pale body, golden hair and eyes like the Arabian sea.

“No. I won’t.” Kat shook her head. 

Her words angered him. Even if she didn’t want to stay here he could keep her. A slave had no say – as he expected she was. His hands delved deeper up her thighs and spread them slightly as she fell against him. Her thighs were now spread over him as she sat on him. He could easily lift up his robe and impale her sharply on his throbbing cock. He had never wanted a woman as he did this pale beauty. He wanted her badly.

“Please, no.” Kat tried to evade his hands as she felt her juices dripping. She wanted him inside her but wanted the man to be Mohammed. Could she let this man have her – thinking of Mohammed? Was she disgusting? Her tears sprang up and Majeed saw them. 

He scooped her off of him and strode angrily from the tent.

Kat’s heart thudded. All she wanted was Mohammed’s arms around her.

Rana cornered her husband outside the tent.

“My lord, I have never asked you for anything. I have been a good and loyal wife. But I beg you, in the name of Allah, please send this woman back to where she came from.”

Majeed’s eyes narrowed. “By the Qu’ran you are also to obey your husband - and obedience is what I require Rana.”

“My lord – “

“I will send the beauty away when the time is right. Until then she will remain here. That is my will.”

“Yes, my lord.” Rana lowered her eyes.

“And you would be wise to remember that there is nothing between the young girl and myself.” He added childishly knowing that the girl could have just tasted his cock.

“Yet.” Finished Rana as she watched her husband walk away.

Kat tossed and turned and didn’t fall asleep until well after midnight. Just as she was falling asleep - a lone camel came into view as Majeed and his men were outside smoking. The figure dismounted and came forward. The stranger had only one word of greeting, “Brother.”

Majeed strode forward happily. He clasped the man in a broad hug and said, “Mohammed,” before leading him into the tent.



The Sheik & the Slave Ch. 09



Kat chewed continuously on her bottom lip. She always did when she was deep in thought or unsure of what to do. Sometimes she chewed her lip so hard that she caused it to bleed. Her night had passed slowly and when she awoke she felt as though she hadn't slept at all. Her brow was furrowed in thought and she knew a decision had to be made. She had escaped Yasmeen's plot and Fajer's fat hands only to be saved by another man who wanted her as his concubine.

Kat was grateful to Majeed and his sons. Had they not found her in the desert – she surely would have died. But now what? She wished she was able to get back to Mohammed and if not Mohammed – be sent back home. She had never been particularly thrilled with her life in England – but she had a place and standing in England and as Lady Katharine Fairfax she could at least choose a husband of some sort and stand up to her father once and for all. If he would not allow her to marry for love and affection – than she would join a nunnery. A quiet life after all the excitement she had been through in Arabia might be just the thing to set her to rights.

After all, many noblewomen entered nunneries for a variety of reasons and very few of them were to take vows. Some noblewomen entered nunneries for confinement to birth a bastard babe – and yet others entered to quiet their minds as Kat wished to do. It always astounded Kat what money and a title could do. And if one had both and was a male – well then – the world was their oyster.

Kat knew she must decide quickly. She would have ventured into the desert again had it not been for the conversation she heard outside her tent.

"Please Dunya," Adib murmured into the servant girl's ear. Dunya was a short young girl with her long flowing hair as her only jewel. She lacked both beauty and brains but she was a kind soul. She had been with Majeed's family for many years and had been a good and loyal servant. Adib was a crafty young man who sold his goods and wares throughout the desert. He had long been trying to get Dunya to join him and sail far away from Arabia. He knew many people and their passage could be arranged in a few days time.

Adib's brown hands moved underneath the young girl's abaya and he kneeled before her.

"Dunya." He whispered as she sank into the sand to join him.

"Adib, no. Anyone could come upon us." She whispered back to him.

"No. Sheik Majeed's brother arrived last night and they are in the main tent taking their meal."

"Adib." Se moaned lightly into his ear and Kat moved closer to the side of the tent where they were. Her hands touched her breasts and she spread her legs as one hand came between them.

"Dunya, you must know I love you. We could have a wonderful life away from this servitude." He told her lowly as Dunya spread her thick thighs.

Kat's head fell back as her fingers pushed inside her creamy cunt dripping juices as she thought of Mohammed.

Adib pushed her completely onto her back as his robe was thrust aside in haste. He took his cock in hand and pressed against the entrance of her glistening pussy.

"Hurry, please Adib." His cock pressed into her cunt and he began to rock into her.

Kat could hear their grunts of passion as Adib told the servant girl, "Wrap your legs around me."

Kat rocked her own hips as she tried to reach her climax.

"Dunya, say yes. Say you will come with me."

Dunya began to climax as Adib spilled his cream into her. He was an awkward lover – too quick to arouse and too quickly over. But Dunya didn't know the difference as she had been a virgin before him.

Kat climaxed quietly inside the tent.

"Say you will come with me tonight. We can set sail within the week. We can go anywhere you wish…say yes. We'll be together Dunya."

Dunya looked almost lovely in the sand – her brown body sated – her chunky thighs still apart as Adib sat between them. Her long hair was messed and tangled.

"Yes. I will go with you tonight."

****

Majeed entered the tent just as Kat had finished smoothing down her abaya. She was flushed from her orgasm and her nipples were taut and stiff.

Majeed's eyes took in her form and he almost shuddered. He must not let his brother see his new addition. Mohammed, his eldest brother, had shown up unexpectedly in the middle of the night. Mohammed was respected in his realm and intelligent and Majeed had always felt like he was second best. Their father had doted upon Mohammed and he had never let him down. When he arrived last night – he had said little. He inquired after Rana and his sons but said nothing else.

Majeed enjoyed spending time with Mohammed but that was before the foreign beauty had come into his life. Now that she was here – he wanted to spend time wooing her. He wanted to spend time inhaling her scent and bedding her.

"Did you have you morning meal, beauty?" Majeed watched her as she looked away from him.

"Yes, my lord."

"Do you enjoy the hospitality here, Katharine?"

"You have been very kind." Her eyes looked away from his. She didn't want to encourage him in anyway.

He sat before her and deliberately brushed her stiff nipples with his arm as he settled himself. Kat scooted back a few inches.

"I only want to touch you." He spoke lowly to her.

"I prefer you didn't." Kat spoke to him.

"Why?"

"Because it isn't proper."

"Proper for whom?" He asked.

"Where I was raised – men and women don't touch each other like that – unless married."

"But this Sheik who taught you Arabic?"

"Yes?" Kat asked confused.

"You were not his wife?"

"I said I wasn't."

"Yet you let him touch and taste you?"

"Yes." Kat looked away.

"Why? I thought it wasn't proper." He threw her words back at her.

"I loved him - I love him." She corrected herself. She hated this intimate conversation. She didn't want to talk about her feelings of Mohammed with this man.

"I don't require your love." Majeed told her coldly. Insinuating that her body was separate from her heart. Were that was true – she could forget Mohammed easily.

Majeed's cock throbbed with need and he looked across at Kat. She was trying not to look at him as he stood up abruptly.

****

Rana was folding blankets with the other women in her tent when Majeed came upon them.

"You may leave." He told the servant women.

"Majeed?" She questioned him but he said nothing.

He turned her around and forced her with his hand to kneel on the floor. He kneeled behind her and moved the long abaya fabric up her legs and over her rounded hips. The blue fabric gathered at her waist as Majeed moved his robe out of the way to have access to his cock.

Rana knew he wanted the foreign girl and was thinking about her long cream colored limbs but she didn't care. She felt his cock between her buttocks and she squeezed her eyes shut at the pleasure she knew was coming. She could feel the bulbous head of his cock and she arched her back so that he could have access to her slick cunt.

As his cock sank into her pussy she moaned like a whore. Majeed had never been a sexual man and Rana often pleasured herself because his need was not as great as hers. Majeed's hands came up to grasp Rana's hips and his own hips slapped into hers again and again as his cock slid in and out of her tight pussy.

With one hand on her hips - his other hand threaded into her long dark hair and he jerked her head up like a disobedient mare.

"Harder," she moaned like the lowest whore on the street as her husband took her body harshly grinding into her hips. He pulled her head back as his hips slapped into hers and she tried to push back against him wanting him deeper inside her cunt.

Their grunts were loud and harsh in the tent. Her climax was swift as his thick milk pumped into her body. When she turned around he was gone leaving behind his sticky cum inside her pussy and between her ass when he had pulled out. Rana's legs were shaking as she cleaned herself. She knew he had used her and though she should be angry she wasn't. She was sated and almost happy. She smoothed her dress down and smiled.

****

"Hello, Rana." He spoke behind her and she whirled around.

"Mohammed! Dearest, brother!" Rana had known Mohammed before when their families lived closer but since Majeed traveled along the edge of the desert – they saw little of each other. Rana had always held a soft spot for Mohammed and was dazzled by his male beauty. She kissed both his cheeks. Though Muslim women were not supposed to bare their faces to men -even male family members – Majeed was not so strict and Mohammed was his eldest brother.

"Allah be praised that you are well, my sister." He spoke lightly and watched her move away from him to offer him something cool to drink.

"And you. You are well Mohammed? What brings you to us so far from your own home?"

"I crave peace." Mohammed settled himself before her.

****

Dunya entered the tent with a tray filled with water and grapes for the foreign girl. She tried not to stare at the girl's beauty. Her hair was like a bright light in the dark tent and she set the tray before her.

"I need your assistance." Kat spoke abruptly and looked over at the chubby little Arabian girl.

Dunya was startled at the woman's knowledge of Arabic and even more afraid of her words.

"I'm only a servant. How can I assist you?" Dunya stared at the tent's flap wanting to be free.

"I heard you and your lover early today outside this tent. I refer to this. I need his and your help to escape this place. If I make it to England safe – I can pay you a fortune. I can reimburse you for my traveling expenses. You could return here wealthier than you have ever imagined." Kat knew it was so. Her father would pay them heavily and the English pound was certainly worth much in this land. She already had a plan in mind. With the long Arabian clothes and the burkha, she could portray a young woman with this girl and her lover as her servants accompanying her to England. This ruse would enable her to leave Arabia and once in England – she would pay them and be free of Arabia once and for all.

Dunya was stunned. She had not known that their conversation was overhead and she had never thought to be paid to rescue anyone. But once the money was mentioned – she new Adib would consent.

"I must speak with Adib, my lady."

"Please let me know before nightfall. If your answer is no, I must make other plans."

****

Lord Fairfax paced the floor of the library over and over again. Edward Fairfax had been ever coddling to his daughter Katharine. He had indulged her when he should have reined her in and been lax when leniency would have been better. Perhaps he had admired her spirit in a world where the women were vapid and weak. Perhaps he saw a little of himself in his beautiful daughter.

After her ship had been set upon by pirates she had seemed to disappear off the face of the earth. Some thought she had drowned or been killed and the gossipmongers thought the worst – sold into white slavery. Edward shuddered at the image. Though she had been a handful – and it was the truth – he wanted nothing more than to hold her in his arms and look into her beautiful face.

He had hired Bow Runners to track her down, called in favors to have merchants question other ship captains at sea but all had come to naught. Until last week.

At a four week party in a secluded country estate, Edward and his wife Lady Anne Fairfax made an astonishing discovery. Another gentleman in attendance was an old boyhood friend of Edward's - Charles Churchstreet, Earl of Wolcott.

It was Charles who took Edward aside and privately told him of the spice buying expedition he had been on and the invite by a powerful sheik in the region to attend a party. Other foreign merchants had attended but it was the appearance of Katharine that Charles had been shocked by. Though he had tried to speak with her privately it had not been attainable.

Edward almost choked on his port and Anne swooned when they learned their beloved daughter was in Arabia and in the hands of a powerful sheik.

****

"And once in England I will be paid?"

"Yes, yes." Katharine felt faint with relief. "You can kill me if what I say is not the truth." Katharine wanted him to know she was truthful. Adib looked strangely at his soon-to-be-wife and the foreign woman. When Dunya had come to him with the tale he thought she was crazy – but the money soon enticed him to speak to the foreign woman. Now he was certain. They would accompany her on the ship his cousin was a sailor on and pose as her servants. Once in England they would be paid and would return to Arabia as royalty.

"I agree." Adib told her.

****

"What?" Roared Majeed. He had slept late and woke to the sounds of servants scurrying around in whispered voices. Once questioned – it was discovered that his female servant Dunya and his prize possession – the lovely foreigner were missing.

When Mohammed came upon his brother he was in a rage.

"Calm yourself, my brother. What is it? Can I be of assistance to you?" Mohammed tried to calm his younger brother as he raged.

"A servant has stolen off into the night."

Mohammed looked at his brother with uncertainty. "Is that all?"

Majeed shook his head, "No, no. If it were she alone – it would matter not at all. But there is another with her." Majeed knew nothing of Dunya's lover Adib and assumed incorrectly that the two women must be traveling alone and therefore easily spotted.

"I see." Mohammed glanced around the tent. It was a large spacious one suited to comfort and elegance. He knew Rana liked things just so and she was always a gracious hostess. He watched his younger brother stride across the room again and again huffing and puffing becoming agitated.

"This other – was it a male servant – a lover?" Mohammed inquired.

Majeed shook his head. "No, No. A precious jewel. A most rare jewel here in the hot, dead desert. A goddess in female form tempting men to taste her."

Mohammed looked over curiously at his brother wondering if he had started drinking the sweet wines earlier in the day than usual.

"I need to be alone," said Majeed as he stalked out of the tent leaving Mohammed to stare after him.

Majeed spent the rest of the day in seclusion drinking and commiserating over the loss of his found treasure – while the treasure in question was busy making her getaway. Adib and Dunya were true to their word. They helped Kat get to the coast where they bought appropriate clothes necessary for their journey. Adib's cousin was able to secure them all a place on board the next ship leaving port and Kat breathed a sigh of relief. Soon she would be home and all of this would be left behind her. She grieved at her loss of Mohammed but knew in her heart that they were too different to have ever made a life together. When Kat, Adib and Dunya sailed away from Arabia the following day she was both elated and sad.

Perhaps since she had experienced such joy and pleasure in Mohammed's arms – she would be able to marry a titled lord without feeling the loss of her freedom and independence. If not – then she would speak to her father about entering a nunnery for awhile to clear her mind.

****

Mohammed cornered Rana late in the day. He wasn't sure of how to address the matter but he was confused. What jewel had his brother been speaking about? A goddess? Had it been a slave from a neighboring tribe of great beauty? He thought Majeed's behavior very strange.

"My sister." Mohammed entered her tent as the sun was setting low.

"Mohammed." She motioned for him to sit next to her.

"I am concerned for my brother." Though most men would not deign to speak to a woman regarding another man's state of mind, he trusted and respected Rana's judgment.

"In what regard?"

"He speaks of a jewel, a goddess stolen in the night by the servant – I fear for his mind, sister." Mohamed looked to her for clarity.

Rana paled as Mohammed spoke and she glanced away from him trying to hide the tears.

Mohammed grabbed her shoulders. "What is this? Is my brother losing his mind – tell me! I must know!" He demanded.

"No – he isn't losing his mind…far from it. But I am losing a husband."

"Rana, please. You both speak in riddles." His handsome bronzed face was changed with his concern for his family and their strange talk.

"Majeed speaks of a woman."

"A woman? Just a woman?" Mohammed said carelessly not realizing that Rana was in pain.

"No, my brother. If she were a mere woman she would not have caused such torment between us. She is unlike any woman you have ever seen."

Mohammed was growing irritated by this conversation. He had come to his brother's camp to rid himself of his missing princess – and here they sat discussing a servant's escape and some woman. She was probably a servant woman who looked like Yasmeen and thus was causing problems for the homely but sweet Rana. But then Mohammed had never known Majeed to be overly fond of women. He had married and produced children but sex had never been important to him.

Rana looked fondly at Mohammed. An attractive man – he had many female admirers and lovers with his bronzed body, dark looks and intelligence. What would he have thought of the beauty? Would he have wanted her too? Most likely.

"Majeed and my sons discovered her in the desert." Rana began slowly.

"Oh yes?" Mohammed fought interest when he really wanted to find Majeed and shake some sense into him. Foolish boy letting a servant girl come between his wife and his duties.

Mohammed had always enjoyed his harem but his duty had been to Yasmeen to impregnate her with heirs. When she had failed to get with sons– his interest had begun to wane. Now a second marriage was inevitable – especially with Yasmeen now missing.

"She is beautiful. Even my sisters cannot compare." Rana replied staring wistfully into the distance.

Mohammed commented, "That is saying something. Your sisters' beauty is well known."

"Yes." Rana remembered her eldest sister had almost married Mohammed.

"And after they brought her here – Majeed seemed captivated. Indeed I think he thought of little else. He wanted her – I know. He took me once – wishing I was her." Rana blushed in the tent. She knew Mohammed would keep her secrets.

"But Allah the merciful forgive me – I am glad she is gone. I begged Majeed to send her away." Rana cried out suddenly. "Her beauty is such that drive men mad to possess it!"

Mohammed laid a hand upon her. "Be calm. Perhaps she and the other servant will find work together in the city."

"Perhaps. But I do not think she was a servant." Rana shook her head. "No, she was not a servant."

Mohammed stood up. "I'm going to find Majeed. He needs to see reason and stop behaving like a foolish boy."

Rana smiled. "You are a good man. A good brother."

Mohammed turned to go. He was almost to the tent's opening when he heard Rana whisper softly: "I have never seen hair that color. Like the golden sands of the Sahara."

Mohammed stopped. His blood turned cold and he felt himself shudder.

"What did you say?" He turned back to Rana.

"What?" She asked. She had spoken her comment aloud but had not realized it.

"You spoke of hair the color of the Sahara." He knelt in front of her grasping her shoulders in his large hands. Mohammed almost started to shake Rana. The first time he had laid eyes upon Kat he had thought her hair the color of the Sahara. The panic gripped him and frightened him.

"Yes?" Rana almost winced as Mohammed's hands threatened to crush her slim bones.

"Who?" He asked almost hoarsely.

"The girl, the foreigner – the one they rescued. The one Majeed wants – the one who has escaped. With golden hair and eyes like the Arabian sea." Rana said confused at Mohammed's fierce reaction.

"No. No." Mohammed almost cried aloud but held himself still.




The Sheik & the Slave Ch. 09



****

Kat breathed in the sea air as the ship's journey continued and the weeks passed by. It had been as uneventful as her previous journey had been fraught with chaos.

Perhaps it was due to the money she had promised Adib but he was intent to see her kept safe and away from harm.

The sailors were a suspicious lot and as usual thought a woman aboard was bad luck but they treated her respectfully.

Dunya acted as a servant to Kat and helped her change, bathe and deliver meals. When Kat was alone at night – she dreamed nightly of Mohammed. She often awoke to his face and many times had pushed her slim fingers inside her pussy to relieve the tension that had built. She wanted his cock filling her and none but him would do. But she would have to forget about him if she was to ever have a life filled with a husband and children which she dearly wanted. She would try to find a man in England who would treat her well and then she would marry. But she would always dream of Mohammed.

She dreaded seeing her family again. What would they think of her? A gently bred woman being the whore of a sheik? Little did they know that she had come to him that first time. She had begged him to take her. What would she have become had she stayed in the harem?

****

"Come to me." He whispered in the dark room. The familiar woody scent of patchouli hung in the hair as she walked toward him. The pool was to her side as she stood before him in a pink gauze robe.

"Disrobe." She obeyed him as she slipped off the robe. It fell in a heap as she stood naked before him.

"Princess." He spoke to her as he reclined on the pillows before her. She watched with horror as Yasmeen settled herself between his legs - her naked body glistening in the dark light. They both had the same honey colored bodies with dark smoldering looks. He smiled as he fed Yasmeen his thick cock. His hand guided her dark head as she made slurping noises in the room.

Yasmeen was crouched like a dog with her ass in the air as she worked on Mohammed's cock.

Kat watched the scene and Mohammed nodded at her. She knelt behind Yasmeen. She felt pulled into the threesome by his dark eyes and the need to please him. She was after all his mistress – it was her duty to please.

Yasmeen's small ass was in the air as she bobbed up and down on Mohammed's thick meat. Kat moved her hands over Yasmeen's ass and then dipped her head into Yasmeen's tight cunt. Kat had never done this and she was both fascinated and sickened at the thought.

She looked at Mohammed's dark eyes over Yasmeen's body and he smiled.

Kat inserted one finger into Yasmeen's hot pussy and she moaned deep in her throat.

"Take it all." He softly told his wife as she gagged slightly at his thick length. He looked over at his mistress as she knelt behind his wife's ass. Kat moved closely to Yasmeen's ass and her tongue lapped into her once. Yasmeen moaned again like the whore she was and arched her ass into Kat's face. Kat spread her ass slightly and lapped her tongue over Yasmeen's hot pussy again and again. Yasmeen tasted wet, slick, and a little salty.

Yasmeen quivered as Kat continued her torment. She pulled back once to slap Yasmeen's ass hard and Mohammed smiled as she gagged on his cock.

"Shhhhhh." He told Yasmeen sharply as he watched Kat touch herself and realized she needed to be pleasured.

He moved Yasmeen away and motioned for Kat to approach him.

"You need to be fucked, princess." He told her as he grabbed her hips and positioned her over his cock's length.

"No, Mohammed. I'm not ready." Kat shook her head. She didn't want him with her in the same room. It was wrong – sinful. No!

"You're sopping wet." He said as his fingers pushed into her slick cunt and he pulled her down over his length impaling her with Yasmeen's saliva still on him.

"Ahh." She cried out in pleasure and pain.

He nodded to Yasmeen who was crouching next to them. She immediately came over and began tonguing Kat's breasts and moved her hands over her slender back.

"No." Kat cried softly at the other woman's intrusion.

"Kat, shhh." Mohammed told her softly. "You are here to please me."

"Please, no." Kat begged as she bounced on his cock and Yasmeen tongued her nipples into hard points.

Yasmeen grabbed Kat's golden hair and twisted it around her hand.

"Bounce whore." She told her as she slapped her cream bottom until it was red.

"Please!" She cried out as Yasmeen's hands and mouth tormented her.

"You're just a harem girl here to please the sheik." Yasmeen told her coldly as she slapped her across the face.

The slap slammed her body into the sheik and her breasts brushed against his naked chest.

His cock was buried deep within her as he came inside her.

Kat was horrified and disgusted as the Sheik moved her off of him and said, "Send in the next girl."

****

Kat awoke to a pounding fist on her cabin door. She shivered in the cool air remembering the disgusting dream.

"Yes?" She looked disheveled as she answered her door in a long white nightgown.

"The coast of England has been spotted, my lady." Dunya told her in Arabic.

Kat sank upon her bed. Home!



The Sheik & the Slave Ch. 10



Dedicated - as always - to the fans of The Sheik and the Slave

For all the comments and emails I received to finish and continue the sheik - I thank you. I have a new job which leaves little time to write but I know the fans of the sheik would be disappointed so I continue the story.

As usual, this is not the end - so bear with me in the next chapter.

Hope you enjoy – Nic

* * * * *

Kat idly watched the young maid in the mirror as she pinned her hair up. Unlike in Arabia where her hair had been long and flowing, in England – a proper young woman kept her hair pinned and tucked away. She sighed. She thought she had hated Arabia. The sun, the heat, the food, the women! But more and more she found herself thinking of her life there. And more and more she dreamed of him. She dreamed of him and the dreams were always the same. He summoned her and she obeyed him, she couldn't stop herself. She ached for his touch and only in her dreams was she satisfied.

In the mornings, she awoke to the cool, crisp English air, the rolling green hills, the light rain – and loneliness.

She had been in England for a month. Her father and mother had been very patient with her. They had not pressed her for details and she was sure they assumed the worse – which was true. She had become the plaything of an Arab. But she had done the unthinkable- she had fallen in love.

They didn't know his name or anything about him – they never asked and Kat never said anything. In the beginning when she had returned home – they had given her space. They thought she had returned to them wilder than ever but they were wrong.

She tried to look away from her reflection in the mirror. She had lost weight since coming home and her manners were barely recognizable to her family. The wild girl who would not be tamed – spoke very little and interacted even less.

She had no desire to resume her life in England as wild Lady Kat. Her father had not mentioned a suitable husband but when he did – she would agree ... provided he was not ancient or terribly ugly.

"Are you pleased, my lady?" Asked the timid Irish maid after her hair had been pinned up.

"Thank you. You are very gifted." Kat said as the young maid blushed.

She bobbed a curtsy. "Will you be wanting to dress for dinner?" Her Irish accent dipped low and it caught Kat's attention.

"The pink frock is fine." Kat said and gestured to the pastel dress lying across her bed.

"Begging your pardon ma'am, but the color washes you out. Perhaps the purple or salmon colored gown – "

"No. The pink is fine." Kat had no desire to look charming or alluring. Everything in England seemed cold and serious and her heart yearned for the warmth and burn of Arabia. And for him, a small voice said.

*************************************

Lady Anne sipped her soup delicately as Edward watched his daughter from cross the mahogany table. She barely touched her food and said little.

"Daughter, I won't have you wasting away before my very eyes." Edward spoke to her as she looked away.

"I'm not hungry Father that's all." She shrugged her slim shoulders.

"Come, come." He pushed his empty soup bowl away as he eyed his beautiful girl.

"Perhaps we should tell her about our plans, Edward. That should put a bloom in her cheeks." Lady Anne smiled encouragingly at her husband and then looked fondly at her daughter.

"Indeed. Your mother and I are planning a large ball in two months time. A grand affair to welcome you back and perhaps a betrothal." Edward looked across to his wife Anne –who both looked over at Kat.

Kat's head jerked up. "You have a husband in mind for me?"

Edward took his time in replying. He had chosen poorly with the Earl of Benton. His heart had been in the right place, to see her married with a family, but the Earl had been ancient and not worthy of his Kat.

"Well several, my dear. But you will have the final say." Edward assured her.

"Who are they?" Kat asked absently.

Edward rattled off several names. Most of them were silly dandies and older men but one name caught her attention.

"Did I hear you say James Clifton?" Kat caught his eyes.

"Yes, you knew Jamie well enough when his family lived nearby. Grew up together I dare say." Edward nodded as his glass of wine was refilled.

"Well, he's older than me by ten years but I remember him to be a good, kind man."

Lady Anne smiled in relief at her interest.

"Could you arrange a meeting with him here?" Kat asked her father.

"Of course, of course. Capital idea, splendid." Edward smiled broadly.

Kat stared absently at her soup. If perhaps she could marry and have children her heart wouldn't ache so much. Maybe she could live half alive in England knowing that she had lived too much in Arabia.

"Thank you, Father. May I be excused?" Kat asked quietly.

***********************************************

Kat settled herself on the window seat overlooking the vast gardens.

Why was she cursed to dream about him at night? Why did he have to be so masculine, intelligent, strong willed and sensual? Could he have at least one flaw that she could focus on forever? Her dreams were too vivid in detail and he was always relentless. He never allowed her to say no and his will demanded she bend to him.

The latest dream held a beautiful little boy with honey colored skin, dark curly hair and blue eyes. Kat had woken up in tears.

She rested her head against the cool window. She hated sleeping. He was always in her dreams. And she hated being awake – without him. But in her heart she knew she had done the right thing. They were too different. Their lives together would never have worked. It was best that she marry in England to a gentleman and he stay far away in Arabia.

She dressed in a sky blue gown that accented her slim curves and eyes but was too pale and washed her out. She chose the gown on purpose. She waited for James Clifton to arrive. Her father had arranged the meeting. They would go riding, enjoy a light supper in the house and Kat was to decide.

Would she even like him? Would they have anything in common? She would have to wait and see.

Her father was beside himself with joy. He hoped to see her settled and happy at last. She was the last and only child not to be married with a family of her own.

Her mother and father introduced James to Kat in the large sitting room decorated in gold and cream colors.

"Lady Katharine. I'm glad to see you well." He bowed over her hand kissing it lightly.

"I remember you and your family when I was a little girl. We played together as monkeys in the trees," Kat remember a childhood game.

The adults laughed at the image and James and Kat began to reminisce as Edward withdrew to his study and Anne settled herself in the far corner of the room to give the two young people some privacy yet still remained as chaperon.

"I remember you too. A delightful, lovely little girl, turned into a beautiful woman." He complimented her easily.

"You're very kind." Kat smiled lightly as her blue eyes flashed up to his.

After they spoke for a half hour, Kat and James decided to go riding. Kat switched into appropriate riding clothes and they disappeared for two hours as they rode across her father's vast estates.

They slowed their pace to talk. "How is your father, Jamie? Well?"

"Yes. And my mother. They are anxious to renew acquaintances with you and your family."

"As am I." Kat remembered a kind older man named Henry and his mother Lizbeth. Though Henry was sweet and good natured, his mother was a vicious gossip and took her position as Henry's wife too far.

She could be curt and rude and had a cutting tongue. She knew she would not like her baby son renewing a friendship with Kat let alone contemplating marriage.

"Jamie, I want to tell you what happened in Arabia so there will be no misunderstandings later."

Jamie reigned in his horse to stand beside hers.

"Kat, what's past is past. I have things that I would prefer be kept silent because they do no good to bring into the light. I would ask only friendship, companionship, and loyalty from you. If you agree, I would like to pursue this, and if you are in agreement, we could marry. But I will make no demands on you. Ours will be no grand romance but I will treat you with respect and affection. However, I would like to start a family after a few months of marriage."

Kat's lashes swept down to hide her tears. He would leave her with the memories of Arabia so that she could keep them secret in her heart forever. In return, they would marry and have a life in England.

She could ask for no more.

"Jamie, we could announce our betrothal at the ball if that pleases you?" She gave him her gloved hand.

"Yes, very much." He kissed her hand and they road back to tell her parents.

******************************************** 

"Oh my dear, such news, such news!" Lady Anne dabbed at her eyes as Edward smiled broadly at the couple.

Kat smiled lightly but wanted to escape to her room. She felt a headache coming on.

***************************************

She made plans with her mother for the expensive ball that was rearing its ugly head sooner and sooner. Kat knew it would be a chance to have neighbors point at her and whisper behind their fans because no one would dare anger her powerful father and say such things to her face.

She spent almost every day with Jamie except when he had to journey to London on business.

He was a quiet man with blonde hair and sky-blue eyes and taller than she was but not by much.

She enjoyed his company and neither of them made demands on the other. It was an unspoken pledge that their marriage would be one of mutual friendship, family desires and little else.

He knew she enjoyed spending time alone reading and riding, and he would leave her be. She in turn knew he had obligations and another life in London and she would allow him his freedom.

***********************************************

Frances Rose Maxwell hugged her friend tightly as they sat down to tea in the blue and rose-colored upstairs sitting room.

"I've missed you so," Francie told her friend as they settled across the small table laden with sandwiches and tea.

Francie was the vicar's daughter who had grown up with Kat. She had thick chestnut hair and chocolate colored eyes with the sweetest disposition Kat had ever known.

Kat instantly thought of Bashasha's kindness and almost choked on her sandwich. She had to learn to steel her thoughts better. The only time she could ever think of Arabia was when she was alone so that no one would see the tears.

"I've missed you, Francie. Missed you terribly," Kat said with tears in her eyes.

"I've heard the stories. I don't care about anything. You are safe, well and loved." Francie smiled as she poured the tea.

"Thank you." Kat reached out a hand to her friend and squeezed it.

Francie nodded. "So what is the theme of this ball that everyone is talking about?"

"I don't know." Kat laughed. "It changes weekly. Greek mythology, famous royalty, savages!"

Francie laughed, her brown eyes dancing. "I think you should have the final say, tis your party."

"I know. I think I would prefer a simply ball with no theme but lots of good friends. And you, my good friend, better arrive promptly to serve as hostess with me."

"Of course."

*************************************************

Edward read the letter over quickly and beamed. He rubbed his hands together over the fire and smiled. His little girl would have a present fit for a queen. She would have the most beautiful present in the world. He was so pleased he went in search of Anne to tell her the good news.

"Oh she will be pleased, Edward. You are too generous." Anne sat embroidering in an upper room facing the gardens.

"Nonsense. She deserves this bit of happiness. She's been complaining for years that she has had to ride her brother's castoff horse."

"True." Anne nodded.

"Now she will have a horse bred for a queen." Edward left his wife sewing as he whistled down the hall.

*****************************************

Kat stood still as the silk dress was altered again. She was eating very little and sleeping poorly so her jewel toned ruby dress was being taken in again.

It was a form fitting dress that scooped low across her breasts and ended almost at the edge of her shoulders. It created a lovely display of her delicate collarbone, neck and breasts. Kat's breasts were pushed into view with the gown flaring at the hem. Her shoes were delicate with small bows decorating them but Kat disliked the display of her bosom.

"Must it be so low?" Kat asked, as the French seamstress brought in her bodice again.

"Oui mademoiselle. Tis all the rage in Paris."

Kat glared over at her mother who sat watching the spectacle. "But this isn't Paris." She hissed.

Anne smiled at the flash of Kat's old spirit.

"My dear, James will love it." Anne smiled as she watched the young French girl pin the bodice about Kat.

Kat grimaced as she stood with her arms held out at the sides of her body.

"I'm sure he will. What we women do for fashion and men." Kat ground her teeth together.

"Oui, tis true." The young girl said, her mouth filled with pins. Anne and Kat looked over the young girl's red head and smiled at each other.

**********************************************

The ball was fast approaching but Kat was too wrapped up in other details to notice. She spent her days with James or Francie and assisted her mother with menu and music selections. She selected the flowers, colors and was tired every night.

Her parents were overjoyed at the betrothal announcement and only wanted her happy. Kat knew her father had a special present for her that night but would not even hint at it.

Kat smiled as the sun began to set and she walked with Francie down by the small creek that flowed through her father's expansive property.

"You look much better, kitty Kat."

Kat's laughter rang out. "You haven't called me that in years."

"Yes, what did you use to call me?"

"Frankincense." Kat and Francie laughed together as the water rippled past them.

"Will you be happy with him?" Francie watched the light filter across her friend's face. She marveled at the delicate bone structure of high cheekbones, lush lips and blue eyes. No wonder she attracted men like bees to honey, Francie thought.

"As happy as I can be." Kat looked away from her friend.

Francie was silent as Kat kicked a small pebble across the grass.

"Was he handsome?" Francie, who knew very little about what had happened to Kat, was by no means stupid.

"No." Kat looked down at the grass and darted her eyes over to look at her friend.

"Oh." Was Francie's reply.

Kat's cool blue eyes met Francie's warm chocolate ones. "He was beautiful. He was everything a man should be." With that, Kat walked back to the house.

The day of the ball dawned bright with a clear blue sky hanging over the large estate.

Kat slept in late with only tea for breakfast. She went riding with James and then took a long nap to steady herself for the night to come. Most balls lasted well into the night and into the next morning and Kat wanted to be fresh for her guests.

Francie had spent the night and would continue to do so for a week. The invitations had been sent out weeks in advance and Kat was anticipating a few hundred guests to entertain.

The guests staying at the Fairfax mansion began arriving in the afternoon while those that would only attend the ball arrived later.

Kat grew anxious as the sun began to set. The food was being cooked and placed in the large sitting room, while the musicians were setting up in the large ballroom. The chandeliers with special beeswax candles lit the rooms and the floors had been polished to a high shine.

Francie had visited Kat once but had gone to change into her peach satin dress. Francie looked attractive in her peach dress with its square neckline and small bows at the hem of her skirt. She wore pearl earrings and a simple pearl necklace. The peach color contrasted nicely with her dark hair and creamy skin.

But Kat looked stunning in her silk ruby dress. The scooped neckline exposed her lush breasts, delicate collarbone and shoulders. The waist nipped into her small waist and the body of the dress flared out at the hem. Her small shoes were dyed the same color to match.

She wore hanging diamond earrings and a diamond choker which would cause men's eyes to take in the necklace and then dip to her breasts. She hated the effect. It was alluring and she knew she would be ogled all night long.

Her golden hair was piled onto her head with small curls escaping along her neck.

"You look quite lovely, my dear." Anne said as she kissed her cheek. Anne was gowned in deep purple while Edward looked splendid in white and black.

"You do us proud, child." He kissed her hand and led them downstairs.

The guests were gathering in groups but Edward led her astray.

"Come with me, my dear. Only for a few minutes." Edward took her hand and led her outside. They walked to the back of the large house and down a small passage that led to the stables.

"I am so happy to have you safe and home with us, Daughter. A gift for you from the bottom of my heart," Edward led her forward.

Inside the stables was a beautiful new horse. The stallion was rust colored with a muscled body that rivaled even the Irish horse breeders.

"Father! He's beautiful!" Kat gasped.

"Besides, I know your brother would like his beloved horse back, so now you have your own."

Kat threw her arms around his neck. "He came from far away. I'll introduce you to the breeder later," she heard her father say.

"Thank you!" Kat clasped her arms around him until he chuckled.

"You are welcome."

Francie had followed at a discreet distance and together they hugged each other.

"He's lovely Kat." Francie said as they admired the stallion.

Kat smiled as the proud horse came forward to her. "He's perfect."

They rejoined the party with Kat elated and happy.

She was standing with James sipping a glass of champagne when she looked across the room.

The lights flickered low and the music played lightly in the background. At least a hundred people filled the room and dozens more in clusters and groups around different rooms of the mansion. She had lost count of how many people she had greeted and smiled at. She suddenly felt light headed as the champagne drizzled into her veins.

When she saw him, she knew she had had too much to drink. He walked behind a group of people standing at the far end of the room and Kat almost dropped her flute of champagne.

"Darling, what is it?" James whispered as he felt her lean into him.

"The heat. It's the heat." She shook her head smiling. "I need some fresh air."

"Of course. I'll accompany you."

"No. Stay. I'll be a few minutes."

Kat left her glass on a table and walked outside the ballroom and into the night. A few couples were outside talking and they greeted her.

She smiled to them and then turned away. She was going mad. She brushed a hand across her forehead and cheeks. She was flushed. She had been standing next to James thinking of the stallion. She had always loved Greek mythology so she longed to give him a proud Greek name. Perhaps Ares, god of war – and then she had seen him. Or what was obviously her imagination.

A figure behind the large group of people at the far end of the ballroom. A dark figure in black and white cut in the European style. He was dressed according to court with the cut of the clothes seductively outlining his body.

They flattered the width of his shoulders, the length of his body and his hips and legs. But he was like a wild tiger in a small cage. He belonged in a hot world of sand and sandalwood incense not in a ballroom filled with dandies and champagne.




The Sheik & the Slave Ch. 10



Kat shook her head. Had she drank so much? Surely not. She had wandered into a farthest part of the gardens where the willow trees had been planted long ago. Their branches dipped low almost to the ground as she stepped inside one. She looked down at her hands. They were shaking.

She remembered his brown hair and goatee as his mouth touched hers and those smoldering eyes that said so much when he said so little.

The air was cold and her breath foamed out as she exhaled. The willow tree's branches encircled her and protected her as she sighed.

She must let it go. She must forget him. This would only drive her mad she told herself for the thousandth time.

She smoothed her silk dress down at the waist. "Silly." She breathed out and turned to go back to the party.

Her quick intake of breath and the pounding of her heart inside her chest happened instantaneously.

She shook her head and closed her eyes.

"You aren't real," she breathed out in disbelief - her breath foaming in the cold air.

"Oh, I'm real enough," he mocked her.

His clothes were of a European cut with his hair pulled back without a wig. But his golden bronzed body belied the fact that he was not European and never would be. He would never fit in and would never want to. He had come here for one reason.

"I don't understand, how are you here?" Kat asked him as her fantasy and nightmare collided together. She pressed a hand to her exposed chest as her heart raced.

Mohammed smiled. "The horse, your Arabian - was my Arabian. I bred and sold him to your father."

"Did you know when you sold it to him that it was for me?"

"Yes." His dark eyes met her blue ones.

Mohammed watched her intake of breath which caused her breasts to swell over her scooped neckline.

He had watched her that night not able to take his eyes from her.

He had many dealings with Europeans because he and his brother bred horses in Arabia but he had never accompanied the horses. He had always dealt with the foreigners, accepted their money and had his men transport the horses. This time was different. This time everything was different.

Her father had written him sometime ago to inquire upon the price of an Arabian stallion. Edward wrote in detail about his spirited daughter explaining that the horse must be the same.

Mohammed had accompanied the horse to England to bring back what was his by Arab law.

He had watched her flirt in and out of the circles of Englishmen at the ball. He had watched her stand with a blonde dandy who had rested his hand on Kat's waist and clenched his fist in anger.

She used her body well to trap men into wanting what they couldn't have. Poor Majeed had found out the hard way. His own brother seduced by the little falcon, he should have known.

And now, after coming across the sea – he was here to claim her again. There would be no negotiations and no bargains, she would be his.

Unaware of his thoughts, Kat shook her head confused. Her diamond earrings glistened in the dark.

"Why are you here?"

Mohammed stepped toward her. "You know exactly why I'm here. I'm here to take back what's mine." 

He closed the small gap between them and jerked her into his arms.

"No –" was all she managed to say before his mouth took hers. He was clean shaven and well groomed which only made him more dangerous. She knew what was underneath the fancy clothes.

His one hand held her body to his while his other hand went to the back of her head. He pulled out the pins that held her hair in place causing a golden waterfall down her back.

"Please –" Kat tried to move away from him but couldn't. His mouth moved over hers but the kiss wasn't sweet. His mouth raped hers until she tasted blood and his tongue delved against hers.

His leg came in between hers as he pushed her back into the trunk of the willow tree.

"You are mine." He breathed into her neck before he lightly bit into it. His bite caused goose pimples to break out on her arms and she shivered.

"No please, things are different. This is a different place." She gasped.

"You and I are the same, princess."

Kat shivered in the cold and at his words. "No we aren't."

Mohammed held her body against the tree. "I have not come this far to play games." His hand moved to her low cut gown and moved his fingers inside. Without tearing her dress he pushed her breasts up and the dress down and took one tight nipple into his warm mouth. Kat gasped at the intrusion.

"You dress like a whore here. Then play the whore for me." His fingers threaded into her hair as his mouth touched her other nipple –tight and wanting the attention. She moaned in spite of herself.

She felt herself come alive as she arched into him. She couldn't help it. "Moan for me, princess. I remember how you like it." He whispered in her ear and Kat blushed in shame.

His hand wrapped around her long blonde hair and pulled down on it so her head jerked up.

His mouth touched her sensitive neck and he pressed into her body.

"If I fucked you right here - would you even try and stop me?" He asked cruelly.

Kat almost cried out. She wanted him to lift up the hem of her dress. She would have given her soul to feel his thick cock deep inside her. She could feel her juices damp inside her.

"Please," Kat said as she tried to fight her conflicting emotions.

Mohammed watched her face and saw her unshed tears. He released her pushing her away from him and she stumbled. She pulled on her bodice to cover herself and tried to pull her hair back but her hands were shaking. 

Kat shook her head. "You shouldn't have come." She was trying hard not to cry in front of him. "You have to go."

"I am not leaving England without you." Mohammed told her before he left her alone underneath the willow tree.

Kat stood staring after him. Had this proud, intelligent man really come to bring her back to Arabia?

Her heart shuddered at the thought. What were the lengths he would go to keep her? And what would he do when the betrothal was announced tonight?

Kat trembled at the thought. But deep down inside she suddenly felt alive.



The Sheik & the Slave Ch. 11



Dedicated - as always - to the fans of The Sheik and the Slave. Thank you for your continued support. This chapter has taken me quite a bit of time to write and I appreciate your patience.

Nic

**********************************************

Anne sipped her champagne as she stood next to her husband. She watched the couples whirl across the floor and spied Kat's friend Frances in the arms of the squire's son, Henry.

Henry had always been a good lad. Studious and quiet he was expected to take over his father's farms in years to come.

"My dear, where is Katharine? I haven't seen her in a goodly 10 minutes."

Edward smiled down at his wife. "First you decide she is too morose, now you worry she is gone astray?"

"Ridiculous!" Anne admonished him lightly. But secretly she did worry for her daughter.

Katharine was so different, so altered since her return that Anne feared for her mind.

She had been such a spirited young girl that Anne had worried after her virtue. As she had grown, her beauty became legendary. Anne had worried about fortune hunters that would come after her.

But Anne needn't have worried. Kat had a vicious tongue that was well known and she was no insipid girl. She was educated, innocent and not given to false flattery by insincere dandies.

Anne enjoyed the music and the time spent among her neighbors where she was liked and admired.

"My dear, I have come upon a wonderful idea!" Anne said excitedly as she gripped her husband's arm.

Edward rolled his eyes at the tone. Anne was a good mother and wife with a gracious heart but sometimes her ideas were outlandish.

"After the engagement is announced this evening, we will send Kat – with a chaperone of course – to my sister Louisa in France!" Anne smiled broadly.

Edward arched an eyebrow at his wife.

Anne saw the look and pounced on it.

"But my dear, it will be just the thing to right her spirits, just the thing!" Edward left his wife briefly to converse quickly with Jamie and returned to Anne's side.

"Anne, if you feel it would do Kat some good to spend time in France, than I will agree. But I also think we should ask Kat. She might be against the idea. After all, she will be married soon."

"Yes, yes. But a holiday away from all this, will be just the thing."

********************************

Kat rested a shaking hand against her breasts. She should not have let him touch her.

I remember how you like it – he had whispered in her ear. She shivered in the cool air.

She was so easily swayed. He had touched her, kissed her and she was ready to do anything. She had wanted to lift up her fashionable Paris dress and wrap her legs around his waist. To feel his thick cock deep inside her – was all she wanted at the moment. She was so weak, she cursed herself.

She could feel the beads of moisture on her forehead and she almost cried aloud.

"Kat?"

She turned around where Jamie stood before her.

"Jamie." She breathed a sigh of relief.

"What happened to your hair?" Her perfectly coiffed hair had been pulled down when Mohammed had touched her.

"It was so heavy," Kat supplied weakly.

"I see." Was all he said. "Your father asked that I find you and bring you back to the ballroom."

"Thank you." She took his arm as they walked back to the house.

"I would still like to announce our betrothal," Jamie said quietly.

Kat's heart sank. It was all so unfair. Why did he make her feel this way? Why did she burn for the Arab's touch? Why didn't Jamie ever touch her or at least try?

Kat suddenly stopped Jamie on their way to the large house.

"Kiss me."

Jamie looked down into her luminous blue eyes. "What did you say?"

"Please, kiss me, before we announce our betrothal."

Jamie smiled. "Of course, dearest." He bent his head toward hers and lightly touched his lips to hers. They were as cool as her own and it ended after a brief meeting of their lips.

Mohammed's dark eyes watched the two lovers kiss in the darkened garden. So the little falcon was at it again. And whether they were dark Arab men or the English gentlemen of this cold world – they all flocked to her honey – like dogs after a bitch's scent. He seethed.

He remembered so well the night of the Banquet when she had spread her slim legs and moaned as he took her virginity. Did her English lover know that she wasn't a virgin? Did he know that she had lost her virginity on that Arabian evening when her hair had been scented with Patchouli and Jasmine?

What would he think when he told him she lost it to an Arab Muslim?

Mohammed chuckled. Maybe he should find himself alone with the man and tell him.

He watched the lovers enter the large ballroom.

"My love," Anne came to her daughter's side. She noticed her daughter's hair fallen down upon her back.

"Your hair – "

"Yes Mother. It was too heavy. I took it down. I'm tired of fashion's dictates," Kat grumbled in an unattractive, unladylike way. She thought suddenly of the free-flowing Arabian clothes and life without corsets.

"And corsets bind most unappealingly." Kat sulked.

Anne looked shocked. "My dear. What would a woman be without a slim waist?" She glanced to Jamie and Edward but neither seemed interested in their conversation.

Kat was tired of the ball, the heat and the people staring at her. She was terrified of being introduced to Mohammed in front of her father and having to make niceties to a man who had been her lover.

"Let's announce the betrothal," Edward suggested to the threesome.

"Oh yes," Anne smiled as she held another champagne flute in her hand.

Kat wondered if he mother was drinking too much and watched as Edward managed to get the large crowd's attention.

Edward thanked the entire congregation for coming a day's journey to join the festivities and took his daughter's hand and Jamie's hand joining them together.

"Anne and I are proud to announce the betrothal of our beloved daughter Katharine to James Clifton."

Applause broke out around her as Kat fell into a black hole. Jamie caught her before she sank to the ground.

Jamie carried her up the stairs with her mother fussing behind them.

**********************

Fern and Daisy, the Bucket sisters, were 15 years older than Kat and vicious town gossips. They stood behind a large pillar in the ballroom and watched as Kat was picked up and carried away.

"Did you see that Fern? She fainted!" Daisy told her sister in a hushed tone.

Fern, a hooked nose woman with frizzy red hair and watery brown eyes, sniffed decidedly. "Of course. The little chit couldn't wait til the proper wedding night. She's obviously in the family way."

***********************

Mohammed stood behind the town gossips unseen. So. She had spread her legs again and this time, the Englishman's seed had been potent. He would never take her now. Not the leavings from the pale Englishman. He could see her as she had been when he had taken her from behind in the bath. Pounding into her tight pussy had been beyond pleasure. His little princess had always said one thing when she had wanted the opposite.

Kat had always been too proud to admit that she needed him, wanted him. But he had been the same.

He had never been able to admit what affect she had on him. She had dazzled him as she had the men before him and after him. But he still wanted her. He would place her in the harem. That was the only place for his wayward falcon, Mohammed thought arrogantly.

Kat awoke slowly with a headache.

"There, there." Anne patted her hand and poured her a glass of water.

"I don't remember –" Kat began.

"You fainted, dear. It must have been the heat of the ballroom." She took a cool cloth and placed it over her daughter's forehead.

"Was the betrothal announced?"

"Yes, dear."

"Are you pleased?"

Anne smiled. "Well, yes. I suppose I am. And you, are you happy?"

"Yes. I am, Mother. Jamie is a good man."

"Of course he is, darling." Anne took the cloth away and stepped away from her daughter's bed.

"Rest, darling. Most of the people have gone. You needn't go back down. Tomorrow we'll talk about an idea I have. You can go abroad before the wedding."

"Before the wedding?" Kat repeated.

"Yes, dear. To France to visit your Aunt Louisa."

Kat sighed. "I would like that." A chance to leave England and get away from Mohammed, Kat thought.

"I'll bring you up a cup of tea dear, after the guests have gone."

Anne closed the door quietly and went downstairs to perform her duties as hostess and bid those leaving a goodbye and good journey.

Kat could still remember the brother-like kiss Jamie had bestowed upon her lips. Sweet and loving it had all the warmth and passion of a walnut. Kat sighed.

She tried to imagine what life would be like with him. How could she be a good wife? How could she lie with him and make love to him as she had with Mohammed?

All the things she had let Mohammed do. She had given in so easily. She had become a sexual toy so quickly. But she had also fallen in love.

She still wore her heavy dress of ruby silk. The dress that showed off her assets with an alluring view.

She could undress and put this evening behind her. His presence meant nothing. She would marry Jamie. It was the right thing to do. She would ring for her Irish maid.

"Don't undress. The one good thing about foreign women is you wear more clothes than Arab women. Much like unwrapping a present."

Kat whirled to where Mohammed stood in a dark corner hidden by a large armoire.

"You are mad to be here. What are you doing here?" Kat's dress billowed out she stood up.

"My little princess. So perfect and unspoilt." He spoke lowly and then cursed in Arabic.

Kat blanched at the word he called her. She knew it. He had called her a whore in Arabic.

"You have not right to call me that!" She spoke to him, her breasts heaving in anger.

His dark eyes watched her creamy globes as they slipped over the bodice.

"Perhaps no right. But don't pretend to be something you are not."

"I don't understand." Kat shook her head.

Mohammed watched her throat and longed to bury his mouth in it.

"Don't act the lady, when all you really are is a cheap whore."

Kat moved to him and slapped him hard, the sound echoed in the room.

In a second, Mohammed pinned her arms behind her back, picked her up and threw her onto the bed.

His weight settled on top of her as he pinned her down.

"Little slut." He purred into her ear as his hands delved underneath her silk skirts. He felt the garters that held up her stockings and looked down. Her silk encased legs were mouth-watering with small blue garters holding up the stockings.

"You know I've dreamt about you day and night," he said huskily in her ear.

Kat shook her head. "No. I don't want anything to do with you." Her heart raced as his weight settled on top of her. She could feel her body coming to life.

"Yes, so it seems. While I scour the whole of Arabia looking for you after that bitch Yasmeen had you kidnapped, you are spreading your legs for half of England."

"What?" Kat asked him, shocked.

"Yes. Yasmeen has been returned to her family in disgrace. But I shouldn't have bothered. Or perhaps I should bring you back to Arabia to satisfy myself and then my brothers when I tire of you."

Kat struggled underneath him. "I never meant to deceive Majeed. Please believe me. He and Rana were nothing but good to me."

Mohammed snorted. "No, you need do nothing, princess. Men just flock to you. They flock to your honey."

With that, Mohammed moved his hand between her thighs.

Kat was mortified. She could deny him with her mouth but her passage was already slick with her juices.

"Spread your legs, Princess."

"No." She tried to squeeze her thighs but his hand parted them.

"How much honey do you give them?" His fingers moved into her and she opened her thighs to him.

"That's it." He whispered into her ear.

Kat clenched her hands onto his shoulders as his fingers moved into her tight, wet passage. The tightness surrounded his finger as the warm core enveloped him.

"Mohammed." Kat was losing control. She wanted him too badly. She could not say no to him.

"You will come back to Arabia and join the harem." Mohammed told her, his ego would allow no more though he wanted her at his side.

Kat pulled back. "You are insulting. I am offered marriage here, yet I'm to go to Arabia and be your whore?"

Mohammed sneered. "What can your Englishman give you? I can give you servants and a palace, even inside the harem. It may be asked why I should take a pale Englishman's leavings?" He sat back on his haunches.

"Leavings? How dare you. I've done nothing to be asha –"

"There was talk of you in the ballroom. You fainted. They think you pregnant. Used goods. They think you couldn't wait until the wedding night."

"I couldn't. Why should I?" She raised her head haughtily. Let him think that she was used. Let him think what he would. She alone knew that the only man that had ever known her biblically – was before her. She lay before him on the bed, legs spread and dress bunched up around her slim thighs.

Mohammed's hand slid up her thigh. "So what would one more mean to you? So experienced. So used to a man's touch."

Kat shivered as he moved the silk dress further up her thighs.

He spoke to her in Arabic. The words were half coarse, half loving as he spoke of his need for her.

"No one but you will do." He said as his mouth roughly took hers. She never had to ask Mohammed to touch her or taste her. He took her when he wanted. And she wanted him.

He pulled back suddenly to look at her. "I have traveled from Arabia to bring you back. You belong at my side, princess."

"No." Kat shook her head. "There can never be anything between us."

"So little falcon. You think I will leave here and let you marry that Englishman? I told you before, I'm not leaving England without you."

"You must see the truth. There is no future for us. Please." She begged him.

Kat knew that as much as she dreamed and yearned for him, they were too different. She knew in her heart as much as she wanted him, she would never have him. And his arrogance would only allow her to remain in the harem, never at his side as his wife.

Tears gathered in her eyes. "Please, Mohammed. If you care for me at all, you'll let me go."

Mohammed looked down at her and then stood up, smoothing her dress down as he did.

He said only one word in Arabic before he left her room. Kat shivered at the word he had said - impossible.

Less than five minutes later, Anne entered her daughter's room carrying a tray with a cup of tea.

"Mother, I have been thinking about what you said. I would like to go to France immediately."

"Of course, dear. I will write the necessary letters. You can perhaps journey within the month."

"I should like to go within two days," Kat told her mother.

"Darling –" Anne began to argue at the rash decision and then turned silent. "Two days it shall be," Anne agreed.

After her mother left, Kat went to stand beside her large windows that overlooked the vast property of her father's estate.

She knew that if she could stay hidden from Mohammed she could break the spell he held over her. Once she was legally married, she need never worry about Mohammed again.

She would marry Jamie, bear his children and have a life in the country. 

If only she could stop dreaming about the little boy with his honey colored skin, dark curly hair and her blue eyes.



The Sheik & the Slave Ch. 12



Dedicated to the fans – of course

Thank you so very much for being patient. I have had a very busy job and now I've changed jobs so I hope to have more time to write creatively.

Thank you for all your kind words and for enjoying the story of Kat and Mohammed because I certainly love telling it.

Nic

The carriage rocked back and forth and Kat settled uneasily into the cushions. She was excited about the trip to France but loathed the jolting of the trip

She sank into a fitful sleep and was troubled by her dreams.

She could hear the hounds barking in the distance as the hunt was about to begin.

She watched the men mount their horses one at a time and saw Jamie settle atop a grey dappled horse and gallop into the distance.

She wondered where the fox was and felt sorry for it. The violence was something she usually couldn't stomach and she hated the men chasing after the poor innocent creature. 

Suddenly she turned as she heard a woman's gasp of outrage and cry of indignation.

A lovely red-haired woman was being disrobed in a brutal fashion next to her.

The woman's long skirts were slashed away from her body with a long sword and her corset followed.

The woman shrieked and cried as two men stripped her naked in front of the remaining men and women.

Just then a mounted blonde male swooped down and captured the redhead.

The man had already unbuttoned himself and was ready for the woman as his cock surged forward – hard and strong.

Kat could make out the woman being held in front of the man as he rode toward the sunlight impaling her upon his cock.

Kat gasped. Where was she? What was going on? It was indecent. Disgusting.

She heard a loud male voice urging the men on.

"Take the foxes, take them men," a voice cried out. "Take them and be quick about it!"

She watched two more women be disrobed and impaled upon large cocks as the couples rode off into the distance.

The women were squirming and crying as the men laughed in domination.

"Stop it! I forbid you to touch me!!" Kat cried in an almost hysteric voice as two unknown men approached her.

The two men were unknown to her and unshaven. They looked to be some sort of workmen as they approached Kat who glanced around for help.

Other women were around but they were also being attacked.

The men were all mounted or galloping around waiting for their prey to be disrobed.

She began to back away from the men even as they advanced upon her.

"Don't got no wheres to go duchess," said one man in a thick cockney accent as he wiped his hand across his mouth.

The other man eyed her luscious breasts and pulled a knife from his boot.

"Come on lovey," said the man with the knife. "They all want it. Same as you. What's a woman for but to tumble on 'er back and 'ave at it."

"Do you know who I am?" Kat cried as one man reached out for her.

Kat tried to fight but it was in vain.

The men were too strong for her and she couldn't evade them.

One man held her in his meaty grip as the other began slashing at her skirts.

Her skirts fell at her feet in a limp pile and the men admired her long legs.

"Lovely little fox you are," said the one man.

"I forbid you to do this," Kat cried out.

The men ignored her and began almost caressing her as they cut off her corset ties and wrenched it from her body.

Kat tried to cover herself but their rough workmen's hands squeezed her breasts.

One man kneaded her breasts with his fingers and teased her tender nipple with his callused fingers.

"You are ever a lovely bird," he grinned as he began to fondle his hard cock with his other hand.

Kat screamed and spat in his face.

She backed away from them and began running.

Their laughter echoed in her ears.

"Aint got no wheres to go duchess," one of them called after her.

Her heart thudded in her breast at the shame of their touch.

Kat suddenly realized she was naked and standing beside a small wheat field.

She began walking through the field when she heard the horses' hooves beating upon the packed dirt.

"No," Kat breathed out.

She didn't look back to see the rider because it didn't matter. She would never give in. 

Suddenly she was swooped up from behind and settled before him in the saddle.

"Princess. Why do you always run?" He murmured in her ear and she shivered.

Oh god. She would never be free of him.

He nuzzled her neck once, biting it lightly.

"Give in, princess, give in," he said.

He lifted her slightly before him and before she could cry out he impaled her upon his thick cock.

The thrust filled her completely and she cried out once.

Oh god. Kat closed her eyes tightly. It felt like heaven.

Mohammed grunted. He filled his hands with her breasts as he pumped into her body echoing the rhythm of the horses' hooves into the ground.

"You will always be mine," he whispered to her.

"No," Kat whimpered, coming awake.

Kat looked around the carriage. The older couple and woman stared at her as she blotted her forehead with a handkerchief.

The carriage jolted with the steps of the horses and she could feel her stomach roll. She wanted to vomit.

"My dear. Are you alright? You look feverish," asked the older woman.

"Thank you, I'm fine. I don't feel well. It must have been something I ate," Kat told her.

Kat dabbed at her face again and settled back into the cushions.

It was only as she was falling asleep that she remembered she hadn't had anything at all to eat.

Quickly Kat began to dream again.

The pain ripped through her and she screamed into the room.

"That's it, little one, don't fight it," Bashasha cooed to Kat as the spasms racked her body.

"Ahhhhhh," Kat screamed as the pain tore through her body again.

Bashasha dabbed her forehead with a cool wet cloth and helped her as the pain subsided.

"It's almost over, little one," she said.

Kat could feel the spasm leave and she panted like a dog.

"Please, it hurts too much," Kat cried in exhaustion. "I can't take it."

"Of course you can little one, it's almost over," Bashasha told her and then cried out in excitement. "This is what women must do."

Kat could hear people around here scurrying to do Bashasha's bidding as she asked for more clean linen and water.

"And tell my lord Mohammed that it is almost over," Bashasha murmured to one girl.

Kat felt another spasm of pain ripple through her body and cried out even as Bashasha yelped in delight.

"I see the head," she exclaimed.

Bashasha knelt between Kat's cream-colored legs to inspect the new babe entering the world.

"I see the head, I see the head," she cried. "Push, little one. Push hard."

Kat gritted her teeth and pushed her firstborn child out into the world.

The small baby slipped out of her womb followed by another push in which the after birth fell out.

The cord was cut and the baby was cleaned off.

"Oh little one," Bashasha cried with happiness. "A son."

Kat rested upon the cushions as Mohammed came inside the room.

"A son, my lord," Bashasha told him, smiling. "A son."

People were crowding into the room to look at the next Sheik of Arabia.

He was small but had no marks on him whatsoever.

He was the color of honey with dark curly locks and startling blue eyes.

"Princess," he leaned forward to kiss Kat on the forehead. "Thank you. He's perfect."

Kat tried to respond to him but couldn't. The voices of everyone around her receded as she struggled to keep them coherent.

She focused on Mohammed but suddenly the room began to grow darker and darker.

Kat felt herself floating away and knew she was dying. She could feel the tears behind her eyes and she tried to speak.

Only two words escaped her lips before she died "a son."

Kat came awake in the carriage. As she looked around she realized she was alone. She felt disoriented.

She looked outside the window and saw that they were stopped outside an inn. The rest of the party must be inside eating.

She started to leave the carriage but her stomach swam again.

"Oh," she said as she settled back. This was not a good start to France, she thought.

The weather outside was typically grey and dreary and suddenly she relished the chance of seeing her Aunt Louisa in Paris.

Louisa was the beloved sister of Anne and had married a Frenchman who traveled widely throughout the continent and had recently returned back to his hometown of Paris.

Jean-Pierre and Louisa had never been blessed with any children and doted upon Kat.

Kat knew her chaperone, the dour faced girl Moll, must be inside taking some bread and ale with the rest of the party and was resolved to join them.

Kat suddenly wondered at the intelligence of leaving her family so soon since obviously her health was beginning to wan.

She squirmed in her seat and gritted her teeth as the whalebone corset bit into her ribs.

She knew the damp weather, the constricting corset and her worry over Mohammed was making her ill.

She left the carriage and watched as two children and a dog ran through the small muddy street.

A street vendor was selling trinkets and an older woman was selling violets outside the inn.

Kat bought some violets and looked to find her party.

She knew it was only a matter of time before she and Jamie were married. Once their marriage occurred Mohammed would have no say.

She joined the carriage group and asked for some stew and ale.

She was a coward running away so she did not have to face Mohammed. But she knew there was no happy ending with him and there was also no talking to him. He was too stubborn.

But she knew a part of her longer for him. A part of her loved him and that made everything more complicated.

"And you my dear, traveling to Paris, Moll tells us?" the older woman asked Kat.

*******

The three men stood inside the plush London office after the document had been prepared and then translated into Arabic by Abdullah.

Mohammed searched it over and then looked to his friend and advisor Abdullah.

"Everything seems to be in order," Mohammed looked to his advisor who nodded in agreement.

"Yes, my lord. It is all as you have asked. But I beg you to reconsider," Abdullah hesitated to speak but knew his conscience would prick him if he did not.

"You ask me to reconsider, on what grounds?" Mohammed's voice held a hint of irritation.

"Your people will never accept her. They honor and fear Allah, she is an outsider," Abdullah said quickly. "It is even been said that she bewitched your brother Majeed and caused trouble between him and Rana."

"This is idle gossip. If she caused trouble for Majeed it is because he was too weak. And what of you, Daleel? What do you say?" Mohammed stroked his goatee as he looked at his younger advisor.

Daleel stepped forward.

"It is true what Abdullah says. She is not Muslim. But she has winning ways about her. She is very beautiful and well educated. I think to give her the benefit of the doubt," Daleel said, bowing to both Mohammed and Abdullah in deference to their age and title.

"I thank you for drafting this marriage document, Abdullah," he told them.

He knew he would return from Paris either with his bride or never speak about her again.

*****************

Kat yawned as she tried to concentrate on her embroidery. She seemed to be sleeping so much lately and she could barely stay awake at times.

That evening her aunt, uncle and family friends were going to hear the music of Jean-Joseph Cassanea de Mondonville.

The violin music that the composer was well known for was sure to put Kat fast asleep – as she feared.

Her Aunt Louisa had chosen for her a peach-colored gown that brought out her hair and eyes. The V neckline showed off her delicate collarbone.

Kat had already received offers by men of her aunt's acquaintance to be called on but she had refused them all.

"I came to Paris to spend time with you and Uncle before the wedding. I have no desire to make any new acquaintance," she had said.

Kat looked in the mirror at her delicately arranged hair piled at the base of her neck.

The gown's color made her skin appear translucent while also making her appear young and very lovely.

"I don't want necklaces, only the diamond ear bobs," Kat told Moll.

Moll hurried to get the earrings while Kat stared at her reflection.

The concert was sure to be a bore but at least the family had its own box high above the average commoners.

"Oh Katharine, you look breathtaking" Louisa said as she swept into the room in a cloud of perfume and red satin.

"You look lovely also, Aunt Louisa," Kat said as she waited for Moll to fasten the earrings.

"Katharine what is that peculiar smell," Louisa asked her niece.

Louisa did insist on calling her niece the formal Katharine as she declared it undignified to refer to her as a domesticated animal "Kat" as everyone else did.

"I'm not sure what you mean," Kat asked.

"Your perfume, begging your pardon mum, the one you brought from London, mum," Moll intercepted.

"Oh," Kat whirled about on her vanity table and saw the small bottle of Patchouli.

"I didn't even realize I'd brought it to Paris," Kat said quietly.

"Well never mind dearest. We can find you something much more suitably tomorrow," sniffed Louisa.

Kat picked up her long gloves and small evening bag and followed her aunt downstairs.

The concert began even as Kat struggled to stay awake. The box was a large one which seated ten people so Kat had room to maneuver.

She sat behind her aunt and uncle and two other couples who were friends of Jean-Pierre.

She winced as the whalebone corset bit into her sides. Why was it hurting recently?

She almost couldn't stand to wear them. They were intolerable.

She murmured an excuse to her aunt and left the box. Some fresh air would do the trick.

She was walked along the outside of the boxes with their private doors when suddenly the last one opened in front of her.

She was ushered inside and heard the click of the lock.

Unlike Louisa's balcony which looked onto the stage and concert, this particular box had the curtain closed to ensure privacy for the box's inhabitants.

"You are not surprised to see me here," Mohammed asked her quietly.

"No. You seem to show up in the most unusual of places," she told him.

"And you. Paris and London are more usual than the deserts of Arabia where you were found wandering," Mohammed said.

"To escape your insane wife I did what I had to do." She retorted.

"Yes well I have already informed you. Yasmeen is gone. Her daughters are being raised in my home without her. Her meddling has cost her dearly."

"I see. And now you are here. Enjoying the concert?"

"I have heard none of it. I was waiting to speak with you. Please be seated."

"I prefer to stand."

Mohammed shrugged his shoulders. "As you wish. You always do as you please."

Kat raised her chin indignantly, "And you. You love playing the master."

"Yes, I do. I was born to rule over people and things. It is not an easy position. I must sometimes weigh life or death over someone's head," he spoke quietly.

"And now you have come to Paris to see me?" she asked.

He looked down at her. She always grew more beautiful. She seemed to have a glow about her. Was it her upcoming marriage? Was she in love?

The thought clenched his insides.

Her hair was pulled to the back of her head which emphasized her slender neck, small face and fragile features.

Her blue sea eyes stared at him.

"I had to see you," he said, shocking himself and her at the honesty.

Kat didn't expect the words.

She tried not to stare at him or his beauty. He was always so good looking, yet also tall with a commanding presence.

His brown hair and goatee were unusual for men on the continent and it was attractive. Kat remembered being in his arms. She remembered lying beneath him as he took her virginity and she wanted him again.

She swayed suddenly and he caught her in his arms carrying her to a small sofa inside the locked box.

He settled her on the sofa kneeling at her side. Her hands rested on his forearms.

"I'm sorry I haven't been feeling well lately," she told him.

His warm hand felt at her cheek but found it cool and smooth not feverish.

He looked into her eyes but she lowered them suddenly.

His arms still remained around her waist and he used them to pull her into him.

"Katharine."

Kat could feel his warm body and his heart race as he pulled them together.

"Please don't."

"Why not?" He murmured into her ear and her skin prickled at the sensation. He bit her neck lightly as he remained kneeling next to her.

"Why not? Because you fiancé wouldn't like it?" His mouth caressed her neck and his hand came up to face.

"Tell me why." He pulled her head down as his mouth devoured hers.

And the kiss wasn't sweet or kind it was filled with bitterness and betrayal and possession.

All of sudden Mohammed growled and asked her, "why Kat? Why do you smell of patchouli?"

Kat shivered. "I don't know. I wanted to have a part of you."

Mohammed broke the kiss and looked up into her face.

"You have all of me."

Mohammed pulled her from the couch and settled her onto his lap.

Outside the curtains the music played on, but inside the locked box Mohammed made love to Katharine.

Kat's legs straddled Mohammed's waist as he quickly undid his trousers.

"Mohammed no." Kat tried to stop him.

"Kat, this is right. You need me and I need you."

He moved Kat's dress up above her thighs and delved into her tightness with his fingers.

She hadn't been with anyone since Mohammed and the bathing room and her sheath was tighter than he remembered.

He positioned her over his throbbing cock and she used his shoulders to navigate before she slid onto him.

They both sighed in relief as the pleasure was intense and Kat cried out.

"Oh Kat." He murmured lowly.

He wrapped his arms tightly around her as she began to ride him.

He had been without a woman for so long that his climax was building quickly.

"Katharine." He breathed her name into her mouth as he kissed her again.

Kat began to shudder and climax as Mohammed kissed her and pushed into her tightness before he released his milk into her.

His arms remained wrapped around her before they moved to her thighs.

Kat tried to slow her breathing and calm herself.

Mohammed began to pull down her skirts but suddenly stopped.

His hands moved to her belly which was slightly rounded and then he cursed.

Mohammed almost pushed Kat off his lap before he stood up dragging her with him.

"When were you going to tell me?" He asked.

"I don't understand." Kat was confused.

"You're pregnant. Is it mine? Is it James'? Tell me!"

Kat stood staring at him not realizing then it hit her. The morning sickness, the weird dreams, the sleepiness. She was pregnant.

"I didn't know."

Mohammed watched her face and knew she was telling the truth.

"Oh god, Kat. I'm sorry." He tried to reach for her.

"No more. You take advantage of me, accuse me of deceiving you and then regret it?" She pulled away from him.

"If you think the next sheik of Arabia is going to be raised by some dandy Englishman you are mad!" He almost shouted to her.

"How can you stop me?" she flung back at him.

"I obtained a special license to marry. I have it from England." Mohammed buttoned himself up as he spoke to her.

Kat was shocked. Marriage? To Mohammed?

"We can do this two ways so decide which one you want, Princess. You can decide to marry me and we raise our child together as it is supposed to be. Or you do it the hard way," he told her.

"Which is?" she asked quietly.

"You defy me. And then I swear before Allah that I will kidnap you and this time – this time – there will be no escape for you. We will be man and wife and before Allah and Arabia – you will be mine body and soul."




The Sheik & the Slave Ch. 12



With that Mohammed stalked to the door. "So you decide, Kat."



The Sheik & the Slave Ch. 13



Dedicated to the fans – of the sheik. Your patience and kind words keep me writing. I thank you from my heart – most sincerely.

Nic

*

Kat trembled as she sank into a heap at the side of the small couch. Her hands clutched at her heart and then flew to her mouth.

He would give her no quarter and would allow her little maneuvering. There would be no discussions or long talks of what was to come - she would marry the sheik and return to Arabia.

Kat looked around the room in desperation. What was to become of her now? How would everything turn out?

Suddenly her hands flew down to her stomach and she could feel the roundness of it.

She had never realized until he had accused her. She felt the roundness of her belly and sighed.

She let her head fall back against the wall as her hands remained clasped around her belly.

She was pregnant with his child.

A smile played upon her face as she took in the news. She should be devastated; she should be ashamed and degraded. She had not waited for marriage but had given her body away to a practical stranger, but she felt none of those things.

For the first time, she felt at peace. The thoughts kept running through her head, his son, his son, his son...

Kat made herself presentable. She combed her hair back into place with her fingers and smoothed her dress down.

Her fingers were trembling but she re-joined her aunt and uncle for the remainder of the concert.

The next morning, her Aunt Louisa received word that Jamie would be stopping by their home for a week on his way to Germany to visit relatives.

"That would be lovely, Katharine, no?" She asked her niece.

Kat pushed her eggs across her plate and looked up.

"I'm sorry what did you say, Aunt Louisa?" Kat asked.

"Really darling. You seem to be in another land. We have just received word from your fiancé James Clifton. He will be stopping here on his way to visit relatives in Germany. Is that not good news?"

Kat nodded her head. "Yes, it is, Aunt Louisa."

But Kat knew it was not good news. Once she had a moment alone with Jamie she would have to break off the engagement which would cause more questions and comments from those around her. What would happen then?

"My dear, weren't you and Katharine going to visit the perfumery today?" Jean-Pierre asked from behind his morning paper.

Louisa exclaimed excitedly, "Yes, that's correct. When would you like to set out, Katharine? We could find you some lovely scents, perhaps in rose or lavender? What do you think?"

"Yes, that would be nice. Do you mind if I lay down for a half hour and then we could set out? I'm a little tired."

"Of course, cheri."

****

Kat made her way up to the lavish room they had given her and threw herself on her bed.

She felt exhausted and her mind was in turmoil. She was glad to be in Paris away from her family. It gave her a chance to think and decide and plan for the future.

She moved onto her back and her hands moved down her simple linen dress to rest on her belly.

The curved contour of her belly and her breasts -which were slightly swollen -all confirmed her pregnancy.

She moved along her body to touch her breasts which were sensitive and sighed aloud.

What would become of her? She was a young woman from an affluent home and family, but she was not married.

She knew she couldn't marry Jamie carrying another man's child and in her heart she knew she couldn't marry Mohammed.

They were too different and it would never work.

She moved her dress up above her thighs and touched herself once.

Her fingers moved to flick aside the curls that guarded her hot core before she pushed one finger inside.

She gasped aloud and moaned softly as she remembered his mouth on her and brought herself quickly to climax.

Afterwards, she dressed in a silk gown of white and green stripes to join her Aunt Louisa in town.

They wandered together down a small street and entered the perfumery shop.

The man behind the counter suggested a concoction of certain oils blended together with gardenia and vanilla and Kat agreed. Louisa only wanted a simple blend of tuberose. They would have the oils delivered to their home.

They purchased a pair of gloves for Louisa, a parasol for both women and took the carriage home.

Kat was exhausted from the day's events and slept into the afternoon. She awoke for dinner and the next week passed uneventfully.

When Jamie arrived, he had made accommodations to spend the nights at a local inn but stopped at her Aunt and Uncle's house to speak with Kat.

The quiet Jamie with his blonde hair and blue eyes seemed restless and agitated when he greeted her but she thought little of it.

He asked to go riding but Kat knew she could not because of the pregnancy so she asked if a walk would not be equally lovely.

The engaged couple walked along the small creek that wound through the vast property.

"You are well?" He asked kindly.

"Yes, and you?"

He nodded. They continued a short time before he suddenly blurted out, "Kat, I would like to ask that we be married sooner than we had arranged if you are agreeable." 

They had wandered to a large wooded area with a small walnut tree grove.

Kat started to speak but he continued on.

"We will do very well together and I did not think there would be any objection on your part," he finished.

"Indeed Jamie there is. Things have changed since our engagement and I need to break it off. I'm sorry."

"I don't understand."

"Things have changed. That's all I can tell you. There will be no marriage between us."

Kat looked at him and then turned away.

"Do I not have a right to know what has changed? As your fiancé?" His eyes glittered in the sunset.

"Please. No good can come of this. Let us just be done with it." She told him.

Suddenly Jamie grabbed Kat's arm and pulled her down to the ground with him.

"I need this marriage," he told her harshly. "No matter what has happened there will be a marriage between us."

She had never seen him like this and it frightened her. "Let me go. There will be no marriage. My mind is set."

His eyes were hard and cold and suddenly he delved beneath her skirts snagging her silk stockings as he went.

He pulled her skirts up above her thighs and parted her legs as he settled himself between them.

Kat cried out once but her corsets restricted her breathing. She tried to fight him but he held her arms above her head.

"So, everything becomes clear, Kat." He breathed into her ear.

His hand rested on her obviously pregnant belly.

"Did you give him a good fight for your little cunt or did he rape you?" He asked coldly.

Kat grit her teeth and spoke, "Get off me, now."

"Or did you just pretend it was rape like most gently brought up ladies and then spread your legs wide," he continued.

They stayed like this for a few seconds. He sat between her legs with his hand on her curved belly.

"So you are breeding the Arab's bastard child," he spoke contemptuously.

Kat suddenly stopped fighting him for she no longer feared rape as much as she feared he would harm her unborn child.

He suddenly grabbed her hair and pulled on it so that she was forced to look up at him.

"Listen well, little whore. You have fucked your Arab and he left you pregnant which is no concern of mine."

Kat could feel the tears behind her eyes as her hair was pulled.

"But I have use of you yet, Kat. No, I don't want your precious little body though I wouldn't mind having use of it once you have given birth to your bastard seed. I have need of you for a different reason. I need your family, your money and the comfort and protection all of it will bring me. Without it, I'm ruined. So marry me – you will."

He released her hair and remained where he was. The fight and heightened emotions had excited him.

He had never been particularly desirous of her. She was a beautiful woman but it was well known in most circles that Jamie's persuasion was for men and young boys.

But he had always been aroused by pain and suffering and he loved having the haughty beautiful Kat on her knees so to speak and at his mercy.

He looked down at her in the soft earth with her legs spread and he fondled his hard cock.

Kat watched him and suddenly spoke, "Please Jamie. I am with child. It might hurt the babe."

"What do I care? It's not my child." He began to unbutton himself.

"If you rape me I won't go along with this," she told him.

He stopped himself but continued to stroke his cock through the fabric.

"So the marriage will continue?" He asked.

"Yes."

He looked at her in the earth and spoke sullenly, "Your mouth would do just as well as your cunt."

"After the babe is born you can have me whenever you wish." Kat spoke quietly.

"Alright." He nodded and helped her up. "I will marry you and give your bastard a name and you will keep me from being ruined."

Kat agreed. "Yes. A match made in hell."

He smiled at her then but it was a cold and twisted grin.

Together they went back to the house to tell her Aunt and Uncle the good news.

After Jamie left, Kat ran back down to the small creek and shed off her clothes. She didn't care about the cool weather or the cold water she just wanted to erase him from her mind and body.

She felt dirty and unclean and she shivered in the moonlight.

She covered her face with her hands and began weeping softly. She emerged herself up to her neck in the water and contemplated going under but she couldn't. She could end her own life but not the child's.

What was she to do now? She was hopelessly lost.

She couldn't go to Mohammed. If she went to him, Jamie would turn on her and tell the world she was pregnant and not married. She would be ruined and her family's name disgraced.

She had no choice. But she knew eventually she would have to face Mohammed and that thought frightened her more than anything else.



The Sheik & the Slave Ch. 14



as always - to my fans - 

nic

Abdullah touched his head to the mat and prayed - his lips moving reverently over the words.

His heart was heavy as he bowed over the fifth "Isha" prayer which usually ended before midnight.

"Subhaan-Allaah wa'l-hamdu Lillaah wa laa ilaaha ill-Allaah wa Allaahu akbar wa laa hawla wa la quwwata illa Billaah," he spoke the words.

Abdullah was a religious man who had always tried to give guidance and support to Sheik Mohammed Aksam Al Sabid – praise be to Allah and guide him through his journey. He had been honored to have been appointed his advisor and been rewarded with riches and an esteemed position.

But this growing obsession the Sheik had for the pale foreigner did not bode well. The people respected the sheik and it was partly due to his father's memory and reign but also due to Mohammed's own wise rule.

There was talk in the bazaars and inside the court and harem that the girl had bewitched their lord.

They called Katharine a witch and a sorceress and claimed she had stolen the sheik's soul.

Many of the men in the bazaars spoke of Katharine's surpassing beauty and that in the act of fellatio – she had swallowed his seed and his soul.

Some called her a succubus while others just wanted her stoned and dead.

Abdullah was a learned man and knew the talk of Katharine was from vicious town gossips who were jealous of her beauty and the power she might hold over the sheik. But gossips could turn a falsity into the truth and rob Arabia of the powerful sheik's reputation.

He knew it was time to step in and get rid of the girl once and for all. Yasmeen had tried and failed. He would not.

*************************

She hadn't seen Mohammed since that retched night at the music hall. They had made love and he had discovered her state of pregnancy. She herself had not known until that moment. She had never been pregnant before and unmarried ladies were kept woefully ignorant of such knowledge until they became married and respectable. How could she have known?

The scene with Mohammed had replayed itself over and over again in her mind and as she had traveled back to England she knew he would come after her.

What was she to say to him - the father of her unborn child?

Worse than that was the situation she found herself in with Jamie.

He had gambled and drank away his family's fortune. He told her of it one afternoon when he had calmed down after she agreed to marry him.

Early in his teen age years, he had found he had an affection for men and did not pursue the young women of his age and breeding.

He had become taken with a younger man from a very affluent family and begun spending time with him. The man was a cad whose family had all but disowned him. Jamie spent more and more time with the man spending money at the gambling halls, drinking and wagering vast amounts to keep the young man's attention.

A year later, he was in severe trouble.

Jamie's father had insisted he not see the man anymore and had spoken to Kat's father about a betrothal.

But neither Jamie's need for respectability nor Mohammed ache for her – helped her steer her situation in the right direction.

Her choices were dim. Mohammed was her unborn child's father. He had a right to raise it.

But not only that, if her child was a boy, he would be the next sheik of Arabia supplanting his father when Mohammed died.

But Kat knew that his people would never want her as their queen and lady and she worried about an uprising that would harm Mohammed's country. She didn't want to undermine anything that Mohammed had forged and made and she ached with the uncertainty of it all.

It was frustrating and tiring and Kat had no one to turn to.

She dared not tell her family she was breeding –they would die of the shame.

And so she kept it all inside. She was sleeping poorly and beneath her eyes were dark circles.

She was only content when she walked along the small creek that wound through her father's property. England was green and lush and she had missed it when she had been suffocating in Arabia.

But now that she was in England, her heart longed for the heat and sand of Arabia and the proud man she had fallen in love with.

She settled herself under a small tree as the creek trickled by. She removed her shoes and breathed a sigh of relief.

She had a very poor appetite of late with bouts on nausea in the morning. But in the afternoon, she felt it less and was able to eat toast and drink tea. She was tired more and more often and found herself sleeping during the day. She knew it was the unborn child that caused it.

She leaned her head against a tree with her hands over her belly and sank into a light slumber.

********************

He had been walking through her father's property for awhile. The grooms pointed him in the direction she had taken to walking but it was still a vast and green estate.

The marriage certificate still burned a whole in his breast pocket and he longed to confront her father. But secretly, he was torn. He didn't want her screaming down the local parish's aisle claiming he was kidnapping her.

He wanted her pliant, in his arms, with love and affection on her face.

He wanted her dressed in a silk gown surrounded by her family with obedient words on her lips.

Did he want too much? No, he didn't think so.

He had at first been enraged when he had felt her rounded belly that evening at the music hall. He had thought that she meant to conceal it from him - that she had been scheming to take what rightfully belonged to him.

He conjured up all the evil deeds her people were capable of – and condemned her there and then.

But he re-lived the scene inside the small box and remembered her face devoid of guile and watched as she realized the truth. She was pregnant.

And after he had given her the ultimatum, he had gone back to his lodging and it had sunk in.

She was pregnant! His beautiful woman with the hair the color of the Sahara desert and her eyes like the Arabian sea was pregnant.

Inside her belly was a child they had created. Inside her belly was growing the next sheik of Arabia.

A son that he would teach to fish and fight and carry on the protection of his realm.

A son.

After that night, he realized what he wanted. For the first time, he didn't want to command and demand his rights, he wanted to love her. He wanted her to come to him all feminine curves and grace with love on her lips.

He came onto her father's property alone and quietly to talk to her.

The butler had indicated she was out on the property and the grooms had lead him to the creek.

He found her lying on her back next to a tree with her soft white hands resting on her belly.

She was lovely.

He had a large harem with women to please him every day of the week but he wanted this one sleeping beside him for the rest of their lives.

Her face seemed serene in sleep but she looked like she had lost weight. This was not uncommon in pregnancy, he had seen it with Yasmeen. But he did not like to think she had suffered because of him.

She must be alone here in her home with no one to speak to about her situation. She was a gently brought up woman and a pregnancy outside of marriage was unthinkable.

He had done this to her and he felt ashamed.

He should have married her in Arabia –before- when he had felt such a strong feeling for her.

Now he risked losing her. It was unthinkable. She was his. He would never let her go.

Mohammed bent down to touch her face as she slept.

Her face was soft and almost like silk.

"Princess." He spoke softly.

She stirred but didn't wake.

He touched her hair as it fanned out and lifted a lock to his nose.

The smell of Patchouli wafted into his senses and he felt himself tighten with desire and lust.

He remembered that time she had been scented with Patchouli and he had asked her why.

She has said "Because you like it."

He ached to have her moaning beneath him again. His desire for her was great and she now swelled with their child because of it.

"Princess." He spoke quietly and watched as she moaned in her sleep and her eyes blinked open.

She looked at him questioningly, closing her eyes once and then opening them again.

"It is me." He smiled at her.

"What are you doing her?" She asked, her voice husky from sleep.

He remained quiet and then spoke, "I have come to take you home."

"I'm fine where I am. I like being outdoors."

"No." He shook his head. "That is not what I mean."

She lowered her eyes. "You mean Arabia."

"Yes. Arabia. My home, your home, our son's home."

Kat blushed in the afternoon light. "It could be a daughter. I know you would hate a daughter. You already have two from Yasmeen."

"Yes, I have two. But a child from our union would be blessed by Allah."

He reached out to stroke her cheek. "And there will be many more nights to come for us to create a son."

Kat blushed again at his familiarity and words. "Mohammed, I can't go with you to Arabia. Your people would never allow me to be your wife and consort. I am a foreigner. They would hate me and it would ruin your reputation as their lord."

"No Princess. They would be fine with my choice. And they will learn to love you. They will learn."

"But – " She began.

"And besides. It is too late for all of that. You are breeding with my child. There is only one choice."

Kat lowered her eyes before him as he spoke. It seemed so natural that she should be here under a great oak tree in England talking to a man from a distant land of the child they created that lay in her belly.

And yet it was all wrong.

"I would give anything in my power to hold you in my arms, Katharine. I ache for you. I have followed you across many lands – would you deny me?"

He pulled her into the circle of his arms and Kat could smell the horse scent on him and sandalwood incense.

"Mohammed –"

"Shhh. No more words. I don't want to talk anymore. I just want to hold you. I want to be close to my woman. You are all that matters to me."

His words thrilled her as she relished begin close to him and his pounding heart.

His mouth kissed her golden hair and lightly bit her delicate ear causing gooseflesh to break out on her arms.

"Hold me tighter." She spoke into his ear. "Don't let me go."

He grinned. "I won't - little falcon. You are mine."

She pulled him closer to her as his hands went tightly around her waist.

Her fumbled with the ties at the back of her day dress and loosened her corsets. Kat breathed a sigh of relief.

He pulled the bodice of her dress down as her breasts came spilling out.

"Oh be careful, Mohammed," she gasped. "They are so tender since I've become pregnant."

"Oh course they are, my love. They are readying to nourish our son," he told her softly.

Kat thrilled as she heard him say "our son."

He tongued one nipple first and then the other as his hands delved under her skirts to push them up.

"Oh Mohammed please hurry. I need you so badly," she moaned.

"Shhh, darling. I want to look at you."

He moved his hands along her silk-clad legs and rolled down the length of them.

He saw the feminine garters which held up her stockings which were covered with small pink flowers.

He came to her undergarments which were slashed open for bodily functions and he pushed one long finger deep inside her.

She was wet and hot as she clung to him in a tight embrace.

He removed his finger and licked it clean.

He quickly released himself from his breeches but not before Kat stopped him.

"The babe, Mohammed. Will it hurt the babe?"

"No my love. I promise you. It will not hurt the child."

Kat relaxed and opened her legs to him. "Make me yours."

The first thrust inside her hot tight body made them both sigh at the contact.

"You are mine already," he whispered into her ear.

She wrapped her legs around him as he continued to thrust inside her again and again. 

She cried out as he took her mouth roughly.

His hands cupped her bottom and pulled her into him as he continued to rock into her tight core.

Again and again Mohammed slammed his cock deep into her touching her cervix as he went.

Kat moaned each time and cried out as Mohammed spilled himself deep inside her.

He moved onto his back pulling her close to him.

He kissed the top of her head as he did.

"Are you alright?" He asked quietly.

"Yes."

"I need to go see your father."

Kat shyly nodded. "Yes. I won't be separated from you anymore. And I won't keep your child from you. Whatever happens, I'm ready for it."

Mohammed smiled. "It will all work out. You will see. This was meant to be."

**************

Jamie Clifton had lost another large amount at the gambling tables.

He knew he had to quicken the marriage to Kat because her dowry would help pay most of his gambling debts with enough left over to buy that lovely stallion he had admired the other day.

He threw his cards down on the table and stumbled outside.

What was he to do about that bastard in her belly though? He could arrange some accident for the child once it was born. Babies died all the time.

He thought of the bitch lying with her legs splayed open as the dark Arab pumped away between them and he felt sick. What was England coming to when their women would fuck anything that moves?

Yes, he would definitely have to arrange an "accident" for the little Arab bastard. Then perhaps he might sample the goods himself. He had never been overly fond of women but he had tumbled a couple of whores.

And for all that Kat would be an arranged marriage there was no denying that she was a beautiful woman.

He fondled his cock once and then pulled his coat tighter around him as he walked along the wharfs.

He had sunk to a low level as the cheap whores with yellow teeth and lice ridden bodies called out to him as he rounded the corner.

He didn't realize it at first until he began to sink – that he had fallen into the River Thames.

His large evening coat and clothes tangled up his legs as he tried to swim. The huge amounts of alcohol he had consumed fogged his brain and he didn't realize what was happening as he gulped in large quantities of the icy water.

It took a couple of minutes before he finally succumbed to the cold water.

The next morning, two local fishermen fished out his body and took all the money and his gold watch from his person.



The Sheik & the Slave Ch. 15



Dedicated to my fans -- you guys rock!

Thank you for your support! 

Nic

*

It began as a strange feeling. She brushed the feeling off as nerves and the problems she had been enduring. And she had endured much over the past months. She had endured the separation of her family, the sheik's unwanted attentions, the fleeing into the night, her voyage back home, her love of the sheik and now his child.

So wandered along her family's expansive property and felt the breeze in her hair and the river trickle by. She felt sorry for Jamie and his sad demise but it made everything much simpler.

She would no longer have to find a way out of the marriage with Jamie. Instead, she would find a way to inform her family of the child and marry Mohammed.

She knew her future was with him and she was beginning to accept it.

She had tried to push him away. She had tried to run away but always they had been forced together. It was meant to be.

But the strange feeling continued on. The more she tried to shrug off the feeling - the more it intensified.

It was the feeling of being watched.

She knew it was silly.

The property was so large and watched over by so many, that it was natural that she wouldn't be alone.

Her mother's prized gardens with roses, marigolds, daisies and bluebells were handled by a retinue of gardeners. Her father's stables which included Arabian stallions and Irish-bred horses included close to 30 men who worked from dawn to dusk keeping the horses in shape.

So there was no shortage of eyes watching Kat. And as she had always grown up with servants, maids, groomsmen, footmen and the butlers so it was natural that she should feel stifled at times. But this was different.

Kat plucked a small daisy from the ground and placed it behind her ear.

She knew her body was going through changes and she could feel it. So maybe that was the reason she felt this new awakening.

She felt sleepy all the time and had no appetite. She didn't want to discuss anything with her mother and so she kept everything to herself. No one close to her knew about the child but Jamie and he was dead.

She wondered if this new feeling of being watched was a paranoia of some sort. Maybe she was making it all up.

Earlier in the week, Kat had been restless and had taken a long walk which stretched far beyond the house and the major property. She had walked well past the stables and the granary with its yeast-like smell. 

She passed the small enclosure used for the sheep and cows when they were not out grazing.

Her simple white cotton dress acquired a few slight grass stains in it and she knew her maid Moll would be displeased.

She took off her small bonnet and fanned her self with it. She continued to walk along the small river that threaded through her father's property. The trees became older and more mature and the light filtered in through them.

She touched her stomach lightly as she walked slower. His child was in her body, she thought smiling.

His love for her had made a child and now they would forever be entwined together. She sighed quietly. 

This was right. It didn't matter anymore what he was and where he was form. It didn't matter that she would have to make her life in a foreign place away from her family.

He loved her and she loved him. She would go where he was.

It had taken her too long to come to this simple conclusion. Together the would raise and family and be happy.

It was as she was walking that she heard the small snap of a twig.

She whirled around with her heart racing.

"Hello?" She cried out.

A small bird called out but no human voice answered her.

Kat looked across the trees and into the brush and over the river. She saw nothing.

Had she imagined the sound?

She turned and continued walking. The feeling became unbearable. She felt eyes upon her watching her, taking in her form and stealing into her thoughts.

It was a malevolent presence and she shivered.

She glanced quickly behind her, but she was still alone.

She placed a hand over her belly and then took a path which would lead her back into the sunshine and home.

******

"She goes out walking twice a week."

The other man nodded.

"I have seen her myself so there can be no mistake."

Again, the other man nodded.

"Do you know what must be done?"

Affirm nod.

"I will go over it once again. There can be no mistake. She will walk to the far property where the trees are tall and old. It must happen there. You will take the woman. If she struggles, you will knock her out. We can have no interference. I want her taken back to Arabia and sold into the white slave market. He will never find her there. If you follow my instructions, all should go well."

"Yes."

He stood up and away from the mercenary. The mercenary was cold-blooded and ruthless. It would go off without a hitch.

How many times had he watched her - easily gaining access to the large estate? Watching as the young witch walked along the bank of the river.

There was no mistaking why the Sheik had fallen in love with her. She was lovely and womanly. He had also been aroused by her as he watched her walk along the river bank.

She was a woman that men would want to tame and make their own. Her long golden hair and Arabian sea blue eyes made her irresistible to men.

But he shook his head against such thoughts. He had to get rid of her. She was in the way. She must never rule Arabia . She was an infidel. He would get rid of her once and for all. Yasmeen had been stupid. She had been a woman and not worthy. But he would have no mistakes. And once they got rid of the white woman, the Sheik would return to his normal self. The witch's spell would be broken.

He took the large purse of gold coins and handed them to the mercenary.

"Go." Abdullah said.

*********

Kat slept restlessly and the wind had been a howling nightmare. She and her father shared a quiet breakfast while her mother took hers in bed.

"Daughter, you don't look well." Edward said quietly.

"My sleep. It's been disturbed by the wind. But I'm fine."

"I must go to London on business. I will be gone for a fortnight."

"So long? I will miss you." She covered his hand with her own.

"And I you, my dear."

***********

She walked down to the stables and looked after Ares. He was a beautiful specimen.

She heard two of the stable hands further down in the large barn. They had not seen Kat.

The one man patted a large chestnut red horse on his neck. "He's in for a surprise."

""e sure is." Said the other in response.

In the small corral outside the barn, a burnished copper horse was standing alone.

The two men took the male chestnut horse into the corral and let him lose.

It was then that Kat realized, they were mating the horses.

The smaller copper horse decided she would have nothing to do with the chestnut red and danced away from him.

She jerked her large neck in response as if to say, "I'm not for you."

And Kat smiled.

But the chestnut red had already decided for both of them.

The two men settled onto the fence of the corral and watched the foreplay.

The two horses danced around and finally the male had had enough.

In a powerful play of domination, he cornered the female horses biting her on the neck and roughly mounting her trembling form.

Kat blushed in the dark and moved out of the stables.

The two hands laughed at the scene. "She was a feisty little one."

"Yeah, but he had her in the end. It's the way of men and women."

*************

Kat didn't like to admit it -- but she had been excited by the mating.

She had felt like the mare when she had been in Arabia -- dressed and perfumed for the Sheik.

It had been the same, she thought as she walked along the river.

She had been the trembling mare afraid and trying so hard to be strong. She had tried to fight the feelings she had felt for him but she had become immersed in the culture. And after that she had fallen in love with the land, the people and the man.

She sighed and settled on the grass. Her hand dipped into the cool water and she drank a bit of it.

She wondered often of the sex of her child. She wondered if it would be a girl with dark hair and blue eyes. Or a son that was like her father with dark hair and dark eyes.

The water had cooled her and she felt sleepy as she always did lately. She leaned back into the soft grass with her hands above her head. She slept.

*************

He had been watching her since she left the stable. At first she was just a form -- a female form moving along the grass. Then she had stopped by the water and hidden as he was - he had gotten his first close glimpse of her.

She was lovely, thought the mercenary.

Her body was slim yet supple with high breasts, a small waist and jutting hips. He watched her mouth as she slept and thought her lips were made for kissing. 

Her blonde hair fanned out above the grass and he felt himself stirring.

He had been well paid for this job. He had been paid in gold coins to take the girl from England back to Arabia and then sell her into the white slave market.

He knew once she was sold in the slave market, she would become a slave in a household and would eventually end up as a prostitute. 

With her beauty, no master of any household would keep her long in a kitchen or chambermaid. Before long, she would be gracing the master of the house's bed. It was inevitable.

He knew the man who had hired him - but knew very little of the woman.

She was a gentlewoman that much was obvious. But how she had made such powerful enemies who wished to remove her from sight was not known to him.

He moved his hand before his crotch area as he watched the sleeping form. He unbuttoned his pants and took his thick shaft out. He moved his hand along the length of it as he watched her mouth. He could easily imagine those lips wrapped around his shaft.

He watched her breasts move up and down as she slept and imagined her naked and panting.

Thick ropes of white cum splashed onto the grass before he put his cock away.

He would return to her and the next time he came upon her, she would be his.

He could sell her to the white slave market but first he would enjoy her himself. 

*************

Kat jolted awake. The sun was setting which meant she had been sleeping for almost an hour.

She yawned and settled onto her feet awkwardly. She brushed her hair from her face and began walking back to the large house.

The days meshed together. She thought mostly of Mohammed and of the child within her. She loved taking long walks along the river in the property and it helped clear her mind.

**************

She walked along the river the next afternoon. It had been a warm afternoon and she had been restless. Her mother had been out making a call to their nearest neighbor and her father was gone on business.

The river was quietly trickling by and she enjoyed the peaceful solitude.

She settled by the bank and slipped into a sleep.

**************

He was watching her. His cock had been rock hard thinking about her the night before --and when he spotted her --he knew he would take her.

He came upon her quietly and filled his handkerchief with the noxious fumes he had gotten from the apothecary. The fumes would render the victim unconscious which is exactly what he wanted.

He placed the cotton over her mouth and she slipped into oblivion.

He wrapped her body in a blanket and placed her in the cart.

He took up the reins of the lone horse and trotted away from the great house.

It would be a couple of hours before the woman was missed. It would be enough time.

As the moon was high overhead, they stopped at a small abandoned cabin. He carried her inside and made a small fire of chopped wood that had been dusty and standing outside the main door.

The bed was covered with dust and cobwebs and he placed her on it. 

She moaned in her sleep and he watched her lips. He had been dreaming of those luscious lips taking his cock inside her sweet mouth.

He remained clothed while he began to take off her shoes and stockings. He watched her moan again as he lifted up her skirts. She had long creamy white legs and he ran his hands up her limbs. Her pussy was covered with light brown curls that his fingers delved into.

She moved her head to one side and sighed in her sleep.

"Nice, tight cunt." He said to her as his finger moved into her.

She was tight and wet and he could feel himself getting hard and thick.

One finger fit into her tight cunt and two was just right. He wanted to stick his cock into her. He even thought of taking her while she slept - but he wanted her to be awake.

Kat felt herself becoming warm and aroused. Mohammed. She sighed and opened her eyes.

She felt drowsy. He didn't look like Mohammed. He had brown hair, brown eyes with a scruffy beard and a scar along his right cheek. She blinked once, twice.

She felt his fingers inside her and almost sobbed aloud.

"Oh my god!" She cried and moved away from him in a second. "Stop!" She gasped even as her head swam.

"Bitch." He swore at her and grabbed her by the shoulders. "I've been thinking about your little cunt for days. You won't deny me."

"Please, no. I'm -- " she started to tell him about the baby but her head swam.

He wrapped a piece of rope around her wrist and bound her two wrists together.

He lifted her wrists high above her head even as his other hand went under her skirts.

"Please no." She sobbed. "I'm begging you please. Don't do this. My father will pay to see me safely back."

He smiled and the scar on his cheek looked white and raw. "You aren't going back girl. I've been well paid to send you far away. Far, far away." He sneered at her.

"But before I send you to the white slavers, I intend to taste your goods."

He pulled her legs apart and settled himself between them. She struggled against the rope and tried to remove his body.

He slapped her across her face and snorted with the exertion, "Two ways to do this girl. The easy way -- we both have fun. The hard way -- I still enjoy it and you might get hurt."

He grabbed her hair and pulled her face to him. "You don't behave and be a good girl, I might even stretch your little cunt a bit." 

Kat suddenly felt his fingers inside her pussy again and she starting crying even as he laughed. "You're going to enjoy this. Don't worry."

Kat knew she had to fight. She moved close to him and bit down hard on his ear tearing a piece of his flesh.

"Jesus Christ you whore!" He cried out and she fell panting to the side of the bed.

He watched her trying to get off the bed and then kicked her so that she fell onto the floor. 

"Little slut!" He yelled.

When she tried to get up -- he pushed her again and she fell hard into a wooden chair.

When she tried to get up she felt something gushing between her legs.

She looked down at the floor but it was red. A red floor? What did that mean?

She sank to the floor crying. "My baby."

He watched the woman on the floor as the blood poured from her.

Oh god. He had to get rid of her. He had to place here where no one would ever find her.

********************

The Mother Superior was busy with her books when a knock came. "Mother Superior. Please come. We need you."

Abigail finished the last column of numbers and shook her head. The butcher was over-charging them. She must speak to him about that.

She rose slowly. Her bones ached and she was not as young as she once was.

When she had first come to the Abbey -- she had been young, idealistic and full of hope. Now she was just an old woman.

The young novice directed her to the front gates of the Abbey where Abigail unlocked the door.

"Oh Lord in Heaven." She gasped as she saw the young woman clothed in a day dress with blood everywhere.

"Quick! Quick! Bring here in," she told the two young novices.



The Sheik & the Slave Ch. 16



To the fans of the Sheik and the Slave

You are incredibly patient --and you rock!

Thank you for all your support

Nic

*

"I would see your daughter, Lord Fairfax." Mohammed handed his walking stick and hat to the butler as he followed Edward into the sitting room.

The sitting room was decorated in pastel blue and silver and showed a woman's hand but still elegant.

"I'm sorry, sir. It is an impossibility." Edward seemed pale and shaken.

But Mohammed would have none of this. He knew this was going to be an uphill battle but he was prepared for it. He would have no other woman. Kat would be his bride.

"Lord Fairfax. It is I who should beg your forgiveness. I should have approached you man to man and asked for Kat's hand in marriage long ago. I have loved her for to long and had I done so -- it would have saved us all some heartache."

Edward settled himself onto a small chair. "I expected this. She has been so distant of late, and I suspected the marriage between her and Jamie was not right."

Mohammed stood before the older man. "I want to seek her hand in marriage. Do I have your permission?"

Edward shook his head. "Well that's it, dear boy. She-she's disappeared."

"What do you mean disappeared?"

"I had business in London. I have been gone. When I returned, the house was in an uproar."

Mohammed kneeled before Edward and grabbed his shoulders. "Tell me. What has happened?"

"I know very little. She was last seen walking along the grounds. She has taken to doing that. One stable boy swears he saw a man with a horse and cart leaving the grounds. We had no goods dropped off that day so he must have taken her off the grounds in the cart. Why would someone want to harm her?" He asked Mohammed, his eyes filling with tears. "Why? She has no enemies."

No, Mohammed thought. There he was wrong. Kat had made quite a few enemies in Arabia. And they must have followed her here to finish what Yasmeen started.

***********************

Mohammed and Edward stood amid the horses as they examined the young stable boy Jeremy. He was about 16 years old with a mop of blonde hair and brown eyes.

The young boy swallowed nervously as he stared at Mohammed and Edward.

"I seen 'im comin' down the drive late," the young stable boy claimed.

"You are certain?" Mohammed asked.

"Yes, sir. I am that." Jeremy nodded.

"Please explain in detail what you saw," Mohammed asked.

"Not much to tell really. I was taking a walk and saw the man in the cart with one 'orse leavin' the grounds. 'e did seem to be carryin' a load but I didn' see it. I only say it now as 'e kept looking back at 'is load again and again."

Mohammed nodded. "Excellent. And can you describe the man?"

Edward dabbed at his eyes as the boy continued, "Yes sir. 'e were brown 'aired, with a scruffy beard and peasant's clothes. Looked rather dirty."

Mohammed swore to himself. Nothing distinguishable. The man, his horse and cart probably fit the description of half the men in England. For all the boy's remarkable memory -- it helped them not at all. 

He gave the boy two gold coins. "Thank you Jeremy. Well done."

It was not the boy's fault that all of his information was useless.

Mohammed turned to Edward. Edward seemed shrunken and pale.

This was the second time he had lost his precious jewel. If their roles were reversed, Mohammed would probably feel the same way.

"Lord Fairfax. We will find her. Rest assured. I will not stop until I have discovered what mischief goes on here."

He turned and followed Edward back to the great house. Halfway back to the house they heard a yell.

"Me lords, wait!" Yelled Jeremy who came running up to the two men.

"I do 'member somethin' tho it's prob'ly nuthin'," he said.

"Out with it, Son. Whatever it is," Edward said.

"The man. The one I saw. He had a ugly lookin' scar on his right cheek," Jeremy smiled. "Does that 'elp?"

Mohammed stopped suddenly. He felt a shudder in his body. He grabbed the boy's shoulder. "Are you sure, Jeremy? Absolutely sure? Think hard. It's very important."

"Oh aye sir. I 'member wonderin' 'ow 'e got it. Yes, twas the right cheek."

Mohammed swallowed once. "Thank you, son."

Jeremy turned happy to have obliged his lord and the foreign gentlemen his gold coins gleaming in his hand.

As Mohammed followed Lord Fairfax he prayed his knees didn't buckle under him. The demons had followed them from Arabia to England.

*******************

"Please dearie. Drink the water." Abigail cooed to the young woman. But her attentions were useless. The young woman hadn't woken up since she had been dumped on their steps.

It didn't take an intellectual to know that the stranger was a gentlewoman. It was obvious. She was a slender woman with high cheekbones, lush lips and golden hair.

The novices had cleaned the young lady up and the blood had been much.

They had dressed her in a long white cotton night gown but she had still not stirred.

Abigail tried again to get the woman to drink the water but she would not wake.

She ran her fingers along the spine and binding of the book by the French philosopher Voltaire "Histoire De Charles XII" which she had been reading the night before.

She would read aloud to the young woman. Even if she didn't understand French, perhaps the language would stir the young woman into waking.

The nights were always the longest inside the Abbey. It was a cold, dank place and she passed many a night reading to herself or writing to her sister.

She brought the candle closer and began to read quietly in the room.

*****************

Abdullah was still waiting for his token of agreement to come to him to know that the plan with Jean Baptiste had worked.

It had been difficult to persuade Mohammed to bring him along with him from Arabia. But Mohammed had been set upon the disastrous idea of marriage and he had wanted Abdullah's guidance regarding the marriage certificate. Eventually Abdullah had translated the document into Arabic for Mohammed. Mohammed could have easily done so himself but he was too preoccupied with the white witch.

Daleel the younger advisor had made the journey to England also but had quickly returned home. He had never been outside of Arabia and the food had turned his stomach and the cold had chilled him to the bone.

He had begged Mohammed's pardon and returned home.

But not Abdullah. Abdullah had asked for his Lord's permission to stay on in England for his service and need and Mohammed had agreed.

But unknown to anyone else, Abdullah had been in dealings with Jean Baptiste in Arabia and had paid the man in gold.

It had all been planned so well. Jean Baptiste was a Frenchman through his mother's side but his father had been a slave trader in Arabia and was in fact an Arab.

Jean Baptiste was well known in Arabia and had been imprisoned several times but his mother had become a concubine to Mohammed's father.

She was able to intervene on behalf of Jean Baptiste and reduce his sentence. When she had died he had committed several crimes and had become a wanted man.

Abdullah knew that when his plan began to formulate in his brain, Jean Baptiste would take care of the problem -- for a fee of course.

He clasped his hands lightly together and pondered the situation.

He had not under taken the kidnapping and dismissal of the white woman lightly.

He had thought long and hard about her presence at Mohammed's side and had studied the Quran intensely.

The book of Surah in the Quran had been quite an eyeful.

It had read: "And do not marry Al-Mushrikats (idolatress, etc.) until they believe (worship Allah alone). And indeed a slave woman is better than a (free) Mushrikah (idolatress, etc.), even though she pleases you."

The Quran stated it quite clearly. It would rather have Mohammed have a slave woman who believes -- then a free woman who does not believe.

The book also continued to say: "Lawful unto you in marriage not only chaste women who are believers, but chaste women among the People of the Book...if anyone rejects faith, fruitless is his work, and in the Hereafter he will be in the ranks of those who have lost all the spiritual good."

He had hung his head in silence after reading the line. Mohammed would be lost to the ranks of the spiritual good if he took up with the woman.

How would the people of Arabia accept him as their leader and guide of the Islamic faith when he aligned himself with the ajamiyah (foreigner)? It was unthinkable.

And even if they did accept her in the beginning, eventually she would bear fruit of their relationship and would surely want to raise the child as a Christian thus severing the child's ties to Allah. Unthinkable!

He had to save Mohammed from himself. It was obvious. And then it came to him. The plan.

He would pay Jean Baptiste's passage to England and lay the trap.

He had watched her on the large property. She was a beauty and it was easy to see why Mohammed was enchanted by her.

With her billowing skirts seductively wrapping around her legs she was a woman in her prime.

He thought of his beloved wife Safa. She was older now and had born him several sons, but she did not have the beauty of this one.

He had been like a large hawk watching the little grey mouse. It had unsettled him at first. She didn't stand a chance. If the plan went down properly -- she would be taken back to Arabia before Mohammed knew anything at all.

She would be sold into the white slave trade that was an underground business in much of the Arab world.

She would end up as some man's chimney sweep, a charwoman or a maid. But all of that was ridiculous to suppose.

Once money changed hands, the blonde vixen would end up on her back taking anything and everything inside her tight body. He was sure of it.

But it was of no concern to him. She was standing in the way and had been for a long time. He had hoped that Yasmeen's scheming would get rid of the girl -- but it had not.

Abdullah knew he had to step in and do what was right for Mohammed and for Arabia.

It was all up to him. He would make certain the little chit was gone. And now she was.

But almost a week had gone by and no sight or sound from Jean Baptiste. When he and the girl boarded the ship bound for Arabia- he was to have sent a token back to Abdullah as confirmation that they were gone.

He had received nothing.

He seethed inside.

The girl was like sweet honey in the warm sun. Men smelled her and had to taste her.

The idiot had probably taken the woman to sample her for himself. Fool!

The longer they were in England the quicker the chances were Mohammed would find them. Damn him.

He hoped the idiot would tire of the girl soon and board the ship. The sooner they were out of the country the better.

********************

The words trickled over her tongue lovingly. She had always loved the French language even though it wasn't her native tongue.

Bessie, the young red-headed novice, was attentively doing her needlepoint while Penelope was listening to Abigail read.

The three women were seated around the bed of the 

unknown woman as Abigail continued to read the book by Voltaire.

She ended a chapter and glanced quietly at the woman.

"Isn't it sad?" Penelope asked the Abbess. "She's ever so lovely. Where are her people?"

Before Abigail could answer Bessie spoke to her friend. "Maybe she was kicked out of her home. On account of the baby." She spoke the last word in a whisper.

"Bessie, what did I tell you about that?" Abigail sternly reprimanded the girl.

Bessie looked down and apologized. "I'm sorry."

Abigail shook her head at the two young girls.

"Off to bed with both of you. I'll stay and read a little while longer." Abigail dismissed the two girls.

Bessie and Penelope roomed together in a small room inside the great brick building. As soon as they entered the room, Bessie was scooting out the window.

"Be a love and cover for me."

Penelope rolled her eyes. "You're a disgrace. We're here to be nuns and love the lord."

Bessie snorted. "You may be -- not me. I'm here because my father is trying to get rid of me. I've other ideas and they have nothing whatsoever to do with the lord."

Penelope removed her cotton dress and felt her nipples pucker in the cold air. "Go on then. I'll cover for you." She reached for her bedgown.

Bessie smiled and raced across the stones and outside the main door.

*******************************

"Your late." He said, a frown on his face as he watched the girl enter the barn.

"Well I can't help it. The old prune was reading to us in French." Bessie groaned. "I understood about 10 words after an hour of reading."

He pulled her down into the straw. "We'll I've no want for talk at all -- French or otherwise."

"Oh yes?" She asked as her hand wandered over his trousers. "What do you desire?"

He grinned in the dark. "A little tart with a smart mouth."

"Tart is it?" She squirmed as he pulled her dress down and tongued a hard nipple. Her body was slender and her breasts barely a handful. But she was as tight as a virgin.

"Come on love. You've kept me waitin'. At least make up for it."

She giggled as she got on her knees and unbuttoned his trousers. "Your so big." She took his pink mushroom head deep in her mouth and moaned as his tongue touched her wet pussy.

His tongue lapped up her juices as they fell upon his face.

She straddled him as he continued his torment. They each pleasured the other until Bessie started to moan.

"Oh, yes Jeremy. Yes." She orgasmed just as he jerked hot milky cum into her eager mouth. She savored the taste on her tongue and swallowed.

"Good girl," he said.

She giggled. "You taste much better than French." She licked her lips and fell back next to him in the hay.

"You're a hot little tart, Bessie. Come to me tomorrow."

"Maybe I will, maybe I won't. I have extra duties to attend." She answered. He was too sure of himself and she would like to spend time with the young woman who seemed so alone.

He buttoned himself up. "Tomorrow. Don't be late."

******************

Bessie stayed awhile longer in the hay. She wasn't in a hurry to get back to Penelope and their small cold room. She stayed in the barn with the smell of sex and hay heavy in the air.

Her fingers found her slit still warm and hot and she pushed one digit inside.

She was a simple girl with six brothers and two sisters. Her father was the local parson and kept a strict household. He had decided that she was to marry but she had no interest in any of the young men her father had picked.

When she showed signs of being a flirt with no interest in settling down her father had put his foot down.

He had told her that if she wasn't to be taken as a bride of a mortal man --she would marry the lord himself and sent her off to the Abbess.

Bessie had thought it a joke at first but soon grew to love the quiet Abbey. She made friends and kept to herself but she missed the boys' attention at home.

She had been the "fun girl" in her village.

Many a night she had been curled up in a haystack or sweet smelling grass getting a mouth full of hot cum. She loved the salty smell and taste of sperm as it hit the back of her throat. She also loved feeling the sperm pump down the pink shaft as the boys moaned and sighed.

One night she had been jumped by three youths in the village down the road from her own.

It had been quite a night. At first she had cried as their hands roamed her body, but then she had calmed down. They were stronger and they would have their way with her so she decided to enjoy the night.

They spoke sweet words in her ear as one pressed his cock inside her tight cunt and another pushed his cock inside her mouth.

She felt filled and stuffed and rather liked the sensation. She had cried once after the third boy had filled her with his cream and then used it to moisten her tight ass.

She had tried to stop him but the other two held her still. They had anchored her body over an ale barrel and after the boy had come inside her ass --the other two took turns. At one time, Bessie had been pumped by all of them at the same time.

They had laughingly called her their "fun doll." It had been an evening she remembered fondly.

Inside the Abbey --there was no such enjoyment except that which she gave herself.

But now she had Jeremy. He was a local stable hand from the nearby great house -- she was ecstatic.

She came again and licked her fingers clean. Best to be off, she thought.

****************

Bessie had been bored the entire day. The day had been filled with prayer, prayer and surprise -- more prayer. She had been on her knees half the day on the cold stone floor and it irritated her.

Besides, she thought to herself. She could think of much more exciting things to do on her knees.

She took the large brush in one hand and combed the girl's long tresses.

Across the bed from Bessie was the Abbess reading that book in French yet again.

Bessie remembered the time she and the local milkman's son had been alone in her father's small one-roomed church one Sunday morning.

It had been a cold morning and her nipples had hardened underneath the worn cloth.

Ben had seen her nipples harden and had begun to rub his leg against hers. She had told him playfully to stop as the church services were to start soon but he had continued his attentions.

Eventually she had ended up across her father's pulpit with Ben's cock deep inside her pussy. She had milked him dry and smiled at the thought.

She had sat through her father's service on chastity and virginity with Ben's cum dripping down her inside leg.

*****************

Bessie sighed. At least she had Jeremy now. It had been so boring and lonesome without him.

She drew the brush threw the girl's golden hair as the Abbess continued to read the stale book.

She looked at the girl longingly and her heart felt heavy. She was beautiful, there was no doubt. Her long golden hair fanned out about her and her cheekbones were high and delicate. Her face looked like that of a gentlewoman and her hands were soft and fine.

She must have been a woman of a great house and then cast down because of the baby. Or maybe she was married and the man had died? Bessie's mind whirled. But the woman wore no ring.

The poor baby, she thought. 

The next time she and Jeremy spoke she would tell him about the young woman. Maybe he would have an idea about her identity.

Just as the Abbess turned the page of Voltaire's book, the woman began to moan in her sleep.

It started both woman and the Abbess dropped her book in her haste to get to the girl.

"Did you hear that, my dear?" Abigail asked Bessie.

"Yes, Abbess. It sounded like gobbledygook." Bessie confirmed.

"No, no. It sounded like something else." Abigail looked down at the girl sleeping.

But though Kat said nothing again in her sleep, Abigail was concerned.

She touched her forehead lovingly and found it burning with fever.

"I'll return shortly. Watch over her, my girl." She told Bessie.

********************

Abigail settled herself behind the large oak desk and pulled a sheet of paper.

The letter was dated accordingly and began: "To Father of Kildare."

Abigail finished the lengthy letter and would await a response. If the girl was ailing or ill, the best place for her was in Kildare with the renowned Father of medicine. There she would be looked after and Abigail would take care of matters here.

*********************

Mohammed cradled the glass of brandy but it did nothing to hide his fear and despair. She was in England of that he was certain. But where?

And more importantly, what enemy had followed them here and contracted Jean Baptiste to wretch her from his arms?




The Sheik & the Slave Ch. 16



*******************

Her tight lips wrapped around his cock. He watched her as she took his stiff cock down her throat and cupped his balls at the same time.

"Oh god." Jeremy sighed in ecstasy. "You're a right lovely tart you are."

His hands held her head anchored to his cock as her nose brushed into his brown pubic hair.

He moved his body into her again and again as he forced her to take his cock into her small throat.

"Oh Bessie."

Bessie grunted at the effort and then moved away from him as she settled onto her back.

"Come fuck me. I've been longing for you all day long." She said to him.

"You're an eager little slut, Bes." Jeremy told her as he covered her body with his and rammed his cock into her wet slit.

"Oh yes, yes." Her cries and his grunts filled the air as they both tried to reach their orgasm.

"Not inside me, Jemmy." Bes told him.

"Alright my girl. Get on your knees and be quick."

She was already getting into the position as he took her dripping pussy juices and placed them onto her small asshole.

"Jemmy, no."

"Shhh, you'll like it. You've already told me you've had it there."

The juices helped loosen the way as Jeremy's cock head slipped in.

"Oh yes." His eyes closed in pleasure.

Bessie moaned like a wounded animal as he took her ass.

He began to buck as his cock went deeper and deeper into the young girl's slick asshole.

He grunted and grunted and held tightly onto her hips. As he felt her body shutter in climax he erupted and his salty ropes of milky cum fell inside her tight ass.

They lay exhausted side by side in the barn.

He pinched her tight nipples as she tried to dress and he followed her buttoning up his breeches.

"I wanted to tell you about our new visitor at the Abbess." Bess told him.

"Sorry love. I've got to get back." He kissed her lightly on the lips. "Tomorrow?"

She nodded.

***********************

Abigail closed her eyes in relief. Father O'Day would accept the girl in Kildare. She must make immediate arrangements to take her to Ireland.