3 comments/ 3871 views/ 14 favorites Prisoner in his Harem Ch. 01 By: RubiaLaFaye Sheik Fouad was looking down at the parade for the 10th Emirate Day celebrations. Although it was still before noon the sun was blasting down on the assembled crowd. From the shaded balcony of the governmental building he scanned the stand on the other side of the street. When would the messenger come and bring the would-be assassin his bomb? His secret police had found out that the owner of the catering company hired for the big Emirate Day Festival for his royal children and those of his government and other high ranked families was planning to smuggle a bomb into that party and kill the future of their houses. The man was now sitting almost opposite of the Sheik on the stand on the other side of the street. Mahmoud, the head of security, had said that the murderer would receive his bomb from some foreigner here at the parade, but that as of now they had no idea who that person would be. So they posted plain-cloth secret police all around him and were waiting to see the trap spring shut. The new recruits for the Desert Police marching down the street on their camels and in their 4wheel drives looked smart in their white robes and red/white headscarfs. He could see the young men glowing. It was an honour to march and cheered by your fellow countrymen and women and have the ruler waving to you. The Sheik did not see any movement on the stand in front of him. The bastard was still sitting there with the only empty chair next to him with a small suitcase he had put on it. Apparently he had said to everyone asking if the seat was taken that he was waiting for someone to go and sit there. The Sheik felt a rolling thunder building up in him. Who was such a bad one as to try and disrupt the country after he had managed to bring peace to it again after many years of civil war and religious disputes? Who was behind this plot? More then ten years ago he had come to this place as a young man with his fighters. The young descendant from the Caliphs from the old days who had combined the oil money of his family and religious standing into a fighting force that had cleaned the country of the violence and bloodshed. Now this land between sea and the big desert was what the Wall Street Journal had described in yesterdays paper 'the combination between 1001 nights and silicon valley'. For Westerners maybe an odd combination with people who had to wear traditional clothing, where he had reimposed polygamy again and even harems after so many boys and men had died in the civil wars but were also boys and girls could go and study and get themselves a career in science, engineering or commerce although they looked like people from the glory-days of the past. Suddenly his eyes detected movement. He saw a woman walk down on the steps of the stand towards the suspect. She was clad in the obligatory long wide black abbaya and headscarf. But even dressed like this he suddenly realised he knew who she was. Her fair skin stood out in the crowd and she was taller then most. She was that blasted English woman who taught law at the American University here in the capital and who had had the nerve to write him a letter more or less demanding him to exempt her as a foreigner and a non-believer from covering up. He had written her back that if her human rights were violated by it and her feminism could not stand it the best solution was to find employment elsewhere but if she liked her teaching position she best just dressed up for the occasion. The nerve. Not even his own subjects would have written him a letter like that. After a few weeks he had been invited at embassy for the birthday celebrations for their own king and had suddenly seen her as one of the people there he was formally introduced to. He had gotten a glimpse of long copper red curly hair, big very light blue eyes and huge creamy breasts spilling out of a very formal evening-dress of layers of cobalt blue thin fabric that would have been the fashion hit around the time the Titanic sunk. He had given her a nod and turned to the next in line but had caught himself thinking "Your tongue is way too sharp and you do not know your place, but I would not mind sinking myself between your thighs Miss Roses and Whip-cream." How good it would be to kiss those breasts and have her probably likewise white legs around his hips bucking in pleasure. Now that blasted woman was about to ruin the meeting of the bomb-plotters. That would be so her! He watched her walk toward the suspect. Her breasts pushing against the fabric of her coat same as her round ass. Probably for her own country's fashion clique too much flesh, but those gay designers did not know the pleasure a softer woman's body would yield to a man in the bedchamber. Now the street was filled with young people in graduation gowns. Every young man or woman who had managed to get a university degree was proudly walking and waving to family and friends and the crowds cheered and people laughed and all around him the world seemed to explode in joy. His heart seemed to miss a beat when the guy lifted his suitcase from the seat and that blasted woman sat down. That could not be possible! Now she had indeed ruined the exchange. But then to his utter surprise she opened her big handbag and handed the man a small package wrapped in brown paper. All of a sudden around them the secret policemen dived on the couple. The man however managed to run for a few meters and then a single shot rang and he dropped dead. The woman was dragged away. It all went so fast that only the people directly around them - and most of them had been police - had been aware. His phone rang. Mahmoud, his head of security, said "My lord we got the bomb. The kids are safe. The guy tried to run and was shot but we have the woman. She..." "I know who she is," he said. "Interrogate her severely." "Shall I report to you, my Lord, after the ceremonies late in the evening?" asked Mahmoud. "Yes come to the palace," the Sheik answered. "We have to find out who is behind all this. She has to tell." And then as a kind of afterthought while the vision of cream-white breasts came back to him "but do not destroy her. No raping. No scars." After attending a few celebrations for Emirates Day, pardoning some prisoners and seeing his boys and other children beam at the garden party that had otherwise have ended in death and destruction, the Sheikh retreated to his palace on the coast just out of town. He delivered his boys to their mother, his only wife and queen, and went to the roof to rest and think about today's event. The air was nice and cooling and the sounds of the surf was heard in the dark. He rubbed his temples and closed his eyes for a moment. Then one of his guards announced Mahmoud had arrived. "Look my Lord," said Mahmoud and switched on a laptop. "This is the passport of the woman and her mugshots." Well those copper curls were a mess now and her eyes looked at the lens like that of a deer in headlights. "She keeps saying that she was only doing Harrison of the embassy a favour by handling over the package as he had to take a plane home due to some family problem and she was going to attend the ceremonies anyway to cheer for her students. We checked and that guy did indeed take a plane and left the country. But she can have known that and used that as an excuse. Or she is speaking the truth. It seems clear to me she has no idea about how the bombs was supposed to work but that proves nothing. I sent people to check out that Harrison and put my belt to her behind but she sticks to her story that bloody whore." Mahmoud clicked a few times on the laptop and showed a black and white security video of the woman naked and bend over a table with her legs spread and him trashing her behind with a leather belt while she was screaming and sobbing. "People who want to kill innocent children so they can bring chaos again to a country and its people deserve the worst," said the Sheikh who thought about how different it would have been if he had gotten home today to tell his wife their children were dead. "Yes" said Mahmoud "this is the gallows as an example to all what we do with people like them." "I will join you in the interrogation centre in the morning," said the Sheikh. "Maybe a night with a burning ass in an Arabic prison will loosen her tongue." They said goodbye and he walked downstairs and into his harem and summoned Idriss the head of the Eunuchs. Idriss was told to send for his favourite concubine Jameela and he went to the baths to have himself bathed and washed and pampered by some of the bathing women. But although Jameela did perform well in his bed and arched her hips begging for his member afterwards sleep did not come. His mind drifted to that spirited woman in her old fashioned ball gown with her copper curls dancing on her back and her flesh like milk asking to get touched. He decided that there was a worse way of getting revenge then sending her to her death. In the morning he walked into her cell and said "So you thought to use a bomb to harm us?" and looked down on a woman clad in a sleeveless dirty rag that just reached to her thighs. He could see the blood on her legs what must have been the result of the whipping. And indeed those legs were white as cream under the dirt and blood. Her eyes spit fire and she hissed "Why would I? Do you think it matters to me if you live or die and if you rule this country?" He slapped her in the face and she quieted down sinking to the floor. He said to her "I am going to do you an offer and that is only valid until I come back from talking to the head of security who your behind already met yesterday. Either you go to the gallows for plotting to murder a lot of people from this country or you agree to become my slave of the bedchamber. That will mean that you will be a prisoner in my palace and will have to come every time I summon you to my bed to pleasure me. What might even result in you having to do the opposite as what you plotted for namely swell up and give me sons. You will have to live in my harem and for this world you will be death. You will repay me for what you did the rest of your life but you will live and be clad in jewels and satin. Think about that and I will hear your answer when I come back." Inwardly he grinned registering the range of emotions that were seen on her face and stepped out of the cell. It would be fun to break her into submission. Upstairs he had a talk with Mahmoud who had to admit the trail seemed to end with Harrison getting off his plane and then disappearing. He told Mahmoud about the offer he had just made. "Maybe that will get her to talk," said Mahmoud, "But if it is just her cunt you would like to sample you can do that before hanging her as well." "Nah" he had growled to his old and trusted friend. "There is no fun in raping a woman but the more in owning one who came willingly. And it will hopefully cool my need for revenge." After what seemed just a short while he pulled open the door to the cell and held out a hand to her and said "You want me to tour you around my harem?" and she reached out her hand to grab it. Prisoner in his Harem Ch. 02 (The Sheik of the country had taken a woman prisoner because she was caught giving a bomb to an assassin.) His tall frame blocked the light from the door. White robes and a headdress that hid most of his black curly hair falling to his collar, a bronze skin, a small moustache and goatee and eyes that burned with hatred. Normally the type of man most women would love to see looking at them. Now however he looked like revenge on two legs accusing her to be part of some bomb plot. Her eyes spit fire and she hissed "Why would I? Do you think it matters to me if you live or die and if you rule this country?" He slapped her in the face and she quieted down sinking to the floor. He said to her "I am going to do you an offer and that is only valid until I come back from talking to the head of security who your behind already met yesterday. Either you go to the gallows for plotting to murder a lot of people from this country or you agree to become my slave of the bedchamber." "That will mean that you will be a prisoner in my palace and will have to come every time I summon you to my bed to pleasure me. What might even result in you having to do the opposite as what you plotted for namely swell up and give me sons. You will have to live in my harem and for this world you will be death. You will repay me for what you did the rest of your life, but you will live and be clad in jewels and satin. Think about that and I will hear your answer when I come back." She shivered. How the hell had she ended up here? She had only done a fellow countryman a favour by delivering a package at the big parade because he had to go home in a hurry as his mother had been taken to hospital with a heart attack. Before she had known it she had been dragged to this prison and interrogated. First somewhat nicely and polite, but when she had stuck to her story the officer had ripped her cloths to pieces and tied her to a table and with all her private parts in the air had started to whip her with his belt. He had grinned when she was struggling to breath and had put his hand on her pussy saying "You are lucky whore that the sheik has forbidden to rape you. My children were there too and would have been killed by your actions. We will hang you. Maybe by that time he will lift that order." She had laid on the floor of her cell all night with her burning bottom upwards crying her eyes out. How had she ended up here? And now this ruler of the country whom she only once had been introduced to at a formal do at the embassy was telling her she was facing the noose or his bed. Her mind raced. Was there any way out? Her legal mind was telling her that the death penalty was the end of everything and every other option held a chance to be free again. The door opened. He held out his hand and asked her to choose and she grabbed it. It felt warm and strong against hers and she suddenly realised that one day the rest of that muscular body would probably hold her as tightly. He had covered her with a long cloak he seemed to have brought with him expecting her to choose like she did and put her in the back of a car with tinted windows that had driven her off. After like 10 minutes it stopped at his seaside palace and the door was opened by a huge black man. "I am Idriss the head of the harem. Please do get out of the car and follow me," he had said. She followed him into the main hallway and then towards a enclosed garden with a gate guarded by two equally big black men. The gate opened into a long rectangular tiled shaded courtyard with a fountain mumbling in the middle. On both sides the courtyard was lined by long balconies with many rooms on the left and on the right side it seemed by larger spaces. Idriss said: "Your room will be waiting on the left but first you definitely need a bath." He took her by the arm and pulled her to the right to what turned out to be a luxurious bathing area with a big pool and a Turkish steam-bath. The rooms were filled with all kind of beautiful women, ranging from nude to dressed in thin garments and with skin from olive, bronze to chocolate brown, who looked at the foreigner walking in with surprise and then started to chatter to Idriss. "Be quiet," he commanded. "This English woman is here not like you girls because you choose to live this life but the Master took her as his slave instead of having her killed. Azziza get her washed, shaved, oiled and dressed so she at least looks and smells like one of those beauties here." An elderly lady walked to her and pulled her rags over her head. The sudden nakedness made her nipples stiffen and she felt herself blush feverishly under the gazes of all those girls who were staring at all her private parts and giggling behind their beautiful bejewelled hands. Azziza took her to the steam-bath and poured pitchers of cold water over her to wash away the grime of the prison. Her whole body became covered with goose bumps. Then she put her down on the warm stone platform in the middle and washed her hair with delicate smelling shampoo and scrubbed her body with soap. The warmth and the steam of the room made her sleepy but all of a sudden she almost jumped when she felt Azziza starting to shave her mount and labia. A young helper stretched her leg to the side and helped to hold the flesh stretched for the razor. She felt so embarrassed and closed her eyes in shame. The razor kept moving over her sex. Just when she had the feeling they could not open her any wider the low voice of the Sheikh had her jumping. Opening her eyes she saw him and Idriss standing next to her taking in the view. Her face turned bright red but as she was pinned down by the women there was no way she could try and cover herself. "I had been wondering if your nipples would be like pink rose-buds and I see I am right." He bent down and stroked her breast, rolling her nipple between his thumb and finger. "So your name will be Rosebud here, slave." "Idriss I really like her white velvet skin. She is not supposed to go and swim in the sun.""Azziza have her oiled and perfumed and made ready for my bed tonight." "But Lord" dared Idriss to say, "she is completely untrained in the arts of the Harem..." "I know but she is here as punishment and choose to be my slave so I want to make my claim of ownership straight away and when we have her branded and pierced tomorrow you can go and start training her while my cum is already in her womb and hopefully a son already growing under her heart." The men walked away and the woman who would now be Lady Rosebud started to cry. Azziza waved all the women away and pressed Rosebud to her chest. "Come come," she said "he is a great lover so it won't be that bad. But what have you done to have him so angry?" "He thinks I was part of that bombplot yesterday," she cried, "but I had nothing to do with it. But he refuses to believe me." Azziza took in a sharp breath. "The one that was supposed to kill his children and those of the other dignitaries of the country? The bomb that would be in the icecreamcart and that would explode when all the little ones would be crowding around it?" She gaped at Azziza and said: "Oh my god! I thought they had plans to try to kill the Sheik or something! His two small boys!..... So that makes him so livid with me. I do not know what to do anymore." "And Rima his little girl of 3," said Azziza with a deep sigh. "The only thing you can try, my foreign flower, is to make him see you are a person who would never do such a thing. Be the kindest and loveliest woman he has here in his harem. Satisfy all his needs. And hopefully his anger will one day be replaced with kindness for the woman in his arms. It is the only thing I can think of." Azziza pressed her down again on the stone platform and continues removing every hair from her eyelashes downwards. Then scrubbed her whole body with grounded apricot kernal cream what left her whole body glowing. And in the end told her to relax while she massaged her whole body with sweet smelling oil making her muscles as flex as possible. "I have something that will help you have a juicy slit so everything will go a lot easier," Azziza whispered to the scared woman and gave her a jar with some creamy ointment and told her to rub that all over her clit and into her vagina and folds. Rosebud noticed it made her soft and slippery there when it had been absorbed by her skin. Taking her out of the Turkish bath to the cooler room with the two pools she was also give two glasses of pomegranate juice and a bit of boiled chicken breast but could hardly eat. "Remember," said Azziza, "the moistness he will want to dip his member in is made from what you drink so drink!" Then she was dressed in something like a bathrobe made from light blue silk voile that made her features visible while still being covered from head to toe. They brushed her red curls in tresses over her back and then she was escorted by two black eunuchs to the Master's bedroom. "Call him Master. Bow down on the floor when he looks at you. Obey all his commands." When the double door swung open she saw him sitting on his huge bed filled with cushions and surrounded by draperies. Dressed leisurely in only wide thin cotton pants and surrounded by paperwork and reading on a laptop. His eyes narrowed when he gazed on her and then gestured for her to approach. She had the feeling her knees were giving way but determinately walked forward with downcast eyes and prostrated herself on the floor next to his bed as she was instructed to do. To her amazement she felt herself getting moist and a kind of anticipation tinkling her vagina muscles. She heard him closed down the laptop and noticed the hustle of paperwork being put on a pile. All seemed to end on the night stand on the far end from her. His strong legs swung into view and she heard him order: "Come sit on my lap." When she was sitting on his legs with hers on either side he slowly opened her gown and put both his hand on her hips moving them up to her breasts while the gown was hanging down her back only supported by her lower arms. He hands caressed her large white breasts moving his thumbs over the nipples to make them peddle under his touch. She felt shivers on her spine. His hands moved up till one came to rest on his shoulder against her neck while the other played with ringlets of her copper curls. "Look me in the eyes woman!" he ordered and she lifted her eyes up to his face. It had been so many years since she had been so close to a man she could see the smooth texture of his lips or the fact that his eyes were up close more dark chocolate then black. He moved her behind towards his torso what made her sharply aware of his erection that was already pressing in his trousers and suddenly connected with her pubic bone. With both hands around her face he moved in to give her a deep demanding kiss cutting off her gasping intake of breath. "How can some woman with the looks of a saint in a Rosetti painting be such trouble you wish you could put your whip to her back?", he said just inches from her face. "I am sorry,"she whispered . "I will try and make up for it for anything you think I did wrong." With a smirk he said "Well Miss Human Rights and Feminism, as the proverb says 'I will believe it when I see it'. But first I am going to own you." With a quick move he shoved her robe off her leaving her totally naked sitting on a stranger's lap. Fear and fascination were engulfing her simultaneously. With each of his movements she felt his hardness touch her softness. Suddenly he lifted her from his lap onto the bed letting her sink backwards on the cushions. Hands moved to her belly and lips sucked her nipples one at the time. Lips moved up towards the place where her collarbones met and a hand reached down and started rubbing her clit. Instincts seemed to take over and a little moan escaped her mouth. "Getting eager woman?", he breathed in her ear, placing his hand wet with her arousal on her cheek. "Do not forget I told you I would punish you tonight". He moved his hand to her chest and she was aware he noticed her heart racing. She had never been so scared her whole life. And on the other hand was pulled close to the handsomest guy she had met in a decade. He pulled off his pants kicking them off his legs. In fear she looked down at his throbbing member, swollen dark bronze with precum dripping from the head and veins standing out. He was so big!"Oh please no," she whimpered. "It will never fit. Let me have training by those harem women first." Suddenly he lifted his weight and placed his hands under her behind while his legs pried hers open wide. She felt his dick press against her entrance. She gasped for air and then he drove himself into her hard burying himself to the hilt. A piercing cry escaped her mouth. He was tearing her to pieces. Pressure built up in her inside on her spinal cord and her hips. The pain. Somehow he did not move in her. Tears started to fall from her blue eyes. In her head she kept repeating "Try to relax, try to relax, try to relax. The whole army of Napoleon was made this way". He bent down over her body and moved her legs up to his back. His dick pressing inside her. "Keep them there." "Look me in the eyes woman." He grabbed her hands and while leaning onto his arms held her hands in his on the cushion above her head. "Please Master,", she begged looking in his burning eyes that stared into hers. "It hurts. It hurts so much." "You are frightened and tight as a virgin. I am stretching your pussy now. The pain will go." To her surprise he lowered his lips on her eyes and kissed the tears away. Her head was spinning. This sudden tenderness. While, as the experienced man he was, he must have know he was ripping her apart. Had that been the need to punish her? To hear her holler of pain? He started slowly to move inside her. Apparently nature was taking over. Indeed the pain went away. Somehow her walls did not burn that much anymore and his trust went smoother and smoother in her channel. His trusts awoke in her a need to move her hips to meet his moves. A warmth seemed to develop on her temples and her throat. Her blood was singing in her ears. She held on to his hands for dear life. Gasping for air. He murmured things in her ear in his own language and she had no clue was he was saying. Wetness seemed to drip from her. She was sliding over the silk sheets. Her head thrown backwards between the pillows. Her throat exposed to his mouth. Her lower jaw slack so her lips were parted open. He kissed her lips and she felt the hairs of his beard on her face. His angle of trusts changed and they became determined, harder and faster. Each one not only touching her all the way down to her womb but also putting pressure on her clit and labia. Oh my God, Oh my God, Ohhhhh... Panting she was gasping for air. She realised she had started to make very soft unexpected moans. Lifting her hips from the bed to rub him where he impaled her. Her nails drilling in his hands. His own sounds of pleasure in her ear. Her whole body boiling hot. Pressing her breasts against his torso. Offering her nipples to him like a whore. The muscles in her legs started to shake. Her face frowned as if in pain. Her hips lifted up to grab his cock. More, more, more... Why did she suddenly feel as if she needed to pee or something flooding deep inside her? She tried to keep it in. Panting. Holding her breath in, trying ... "Come for me puppet. Come for me now" his warm dark voice said from above. She kicked her hips up and arched her back backwards on the bed with a cry and just let go. All her muscles in her vagina started to shake, milking his cock. With a loud cry of victory he emptied himself into her. She felt him shake inside her and his seed painting the walls of her womb. Somehow this was bliss to just lay there limb like a dead body. He was still in her and had kissed her ear. Laying facedown on top of her he was cradling her. She wrapped her hands, now free, around his back and hugged him to her breast feeling all rosy and sticky. His member slipped out of her and he moved to her side. His hand stoking her belly. She felt her womb cramp. "Now you are mine Puppet and from now on you will cry out in this bed from pleasure and not from pain anymore. The only pain you will feel is when my sons will leave your body." "So this is it," she thought. "This will be my life now. This man owns me." He moved her so they were both on their left side and he cradled her in his strong arms as if they were two spoons. She fell asleep on the spot. Prisoner in his Harem Ch. 03 In part 1 and 2 of this story we come to know Sheikh Fouad who rules a traditional 1001 nights meet Silicon Valley Emirate between the sea and the desert. He discovers a bombplot against his children and those of other dignitaries. The bomb is handed to the assassin by a Western woman who teaches at the local university and is known for her fierce equal rights attitude. Instead of giving her the required death sentence he offers her an alternative as a slave in his harem. ***** The Sheikh walked into his harem leaving his armyboots at the gate. It had been a long drive back from the military manoeuvres in the desert but he had longed to sleep again in his own bed again. Now his back was killing him. His skin, hair and cloths were caked in a mix of dried up sweat and sand. Oh hell a long bath would be such simple pleasure. The lights were dimmed in his harem. Everybody would be fast asleep by now apart from some guarding eunuch. Walking to the baths he stripped himself of his shirt till the only thing left on his tired body was the uniform trousers. That long drive home had mangled his muscles. He felt stiff and sore all over. But it had been good to train with his men again. To know his small country was able to defend itself. He walked into the bathing area and towards the washing pool when suddenly he realised there was someone sitting on the submerged bench along the site enjoying a bath. Her copper curls were spread out over the tiles. Her eyes closed. Her face sad. The woman he had named Rosebud. The woman from the North he had forced into his harem 6 weeks ago. With a pang he remembered how it had felt when that night he had claimed the ownership of her body. Her sobbing and moaning impaled by his shaft in her most private spot. Knowing that whatever way she had been involved with in the bomb-plot the only thing she could do now was give him pleasure and bear his children and never to teach human rights in university again. Afterwards he had only seen glimpses of her as Idriss, his trusted master of the harem and called the head eunuch while he was in fact the Sheikh's gay childhood friend and confidante, had put her in a training program to learn her the ways of the harem and to better please her lord and master. Idriss had dutifully reported how she zealously had studied the etiquette, the positions in lovemaking, the local language by even questioning his other harem ladies who had enjoyed showing off to a Westerner how well they mastered the art of pleasing a man. This academic woman seemed to view this whole thing as a project she should master with distinction. He had to admit he had be pleased with her determination. His old friend Idriss and him had laughed themselves to tears when she had gone to Idriss to ask if he could buy her Thaiballs to train the muscles in her channel so she would be better in pleasing the Sheikh and hopefully be better in opening up to his big member. Idriss who ruled all the 30 Arab women and all the eunuchs in his master's harem had stood flabbergasted not knowing what she meant and had gone to his master to ask what the hell this foreign woman was talking about. So without her knowing the Sheikh had ordered her some of those virgintrainers from the Far East via the internet and had sit holding the heavy balls in his hand before giving them to Idriss to hand over to Rosebud. Thinking of her slick channel she would put them in and how he would test her later. Grinning to himself how purple she would turn if she knew it was in fact him handing them to her. Hearing him approach she jumped to her feet and upon seeing him bowed deep down from her waist with her hands pressed together in front of her breasts. Exactly like Idriss had trained her to be the submissive woman. Oh my how well had Idriss moulded her into a goddess of the harem. Her long hair red and curly on her head but ending with tips dark brown and straight from the wetness of her bathing, sticking to her shoulders, arms and breasts, water dripping down her belly. Her pink nipples pierced with jewellery like her ears now and her bellybutton, a necklace resting between her large white breasts. Her body shaped by the relentless exercises Idriss had put her through. "What are you doing here in the middle of the night?" he barked towards the submissive bowing woman. "I could not sleep and thought a bath might help, my lord," she said still with her head down. "We had not expected you before noon tomorrow lord." "I longed for my own home," he surprised himself by answering. Then as in trying to gain courage she looked up with those big blue eyes and said: "Do you want me to leave or would it please my lord if I bathed him?" In like two steps he was with her in the bath yanking her towards his chest. Her boobs flattened against his belly-muscles and he could feel her nipples against his own skin. "That bath sounds fine|indeed." She placed her arms around his neck and said "My lord indeed needs a bath. He feels like he is coated with sandpaper." He grinned and held her even more close against him whispering in her neck "Do I hurt those nipples of yours?" before bowing down and kissing her. Her hands stroked his hair. "But I cannot reach your hair well enough to wash you like this lord. Better come with me to where I was sitting." He let her walk him to the bench and she bent down and removed his trousers completely ignoring that part of him that was happy to renew his acquaintance with her. Then sat on the bench herself and told him he best would sit on the floor of the pool between her legs. She started washing his hair and he enjoyed her soft movements on his scalp. Reaching for the shampoo she had placed there on the edge for her own hair. He smiled as the smell of flowers engulfed him. His ministers would wonder why he had choosing this shampoo he smiled silently to himself. Her hands moved to his torso and she sponged soap all over his chest, his arms and even his hands. Massaging his fingers with hers. He marvelled at the whiteness of her skin against his own suntanned bronze. He felt his head resting on her chest and realised how tired he was. He could feel her heart beating and her breath stroked his face. She felt good. She bent him a bit forward and started to wash his back and his shoulders removing all the sweat and dirt in small circling movements. Then started to massage his sore shoulders muscles. Moving to his chest so his head again rested between two breasts. "Lord please stand so I can wash your lower half, " she said nudging him to move. "Puppet I am to tired. That part can soak itself clean. Just let me sit like this for awhile." He realised she was laughing when she said "Lady Azziza will kill you my lord when she sees you brought half the desert into her holy bath. You left a trail of sand." He smiled too and said "I will just tell her who build her holy bathroom." and then felt his eyelids drop and his last concious thought was how good it was between Rosebud's thighs and breasts even when it was sitting up in a bath instead of ... -.- Rosebud looked at the man sleeping in her arms. Compared to her he was a giant. His dark eyelashes laid like shadows on his cheeks that were covered with a day's stubble. The long Roman nose. The full lips. His body relaxed in sleep. His long legs stretched. She softly stroked his drying hair. Curling already at the edges. In his sleep he was like a big teddybear to hold in her arms. A beautiful man to caress. But awake he ruled them all. And she could vividly remember his anger and the hurt of being taken by sheer force. She just sat silently holding on to him as if he was a big baby. What was she supposed to do? At first she thought he would wake up again as it could not be too comfortable sitting on a tiled floor of a pool but instead he seemed to be fast asleep. Her own muscles started to ache and she realised he would be stiff as a flag-post when he would wake up in the morning after he had been asleep like this all night. Her shoulders started to get cold with the air coming from the windows getting colder in the dark hours of the night. Still she did not dare to move. Then suddenly she heard soft steps approaching and looked up to see Idriss looking down on her. "Idriss," she said in relief. "They told me the master was home and I could not find him," said the giant black man looking down on their master sleeping in her arms. "I don't know what to do Idriss. If he spends all night like this he will feel rotten in the morning. But I did not dare to wake him up." Idriss bent down and said "Lord! Sheikh Fouad! Wake up!" His friend and the ruler of the realm looked up groggy and said hoarse "Idriss" and then smiled broadly. "Come lord. Let me dry you off. You will feel rotten after a night sleeping like this. Just let Rosebud take you to your bed," and he picked up the towel Rosebud had placed on the edge for her own use and started to towelling off the Sheikh as soon as he had risen from the bath. She felt her lower lip tremble and nervousness kicking in. "Just take Rosebud to your bed." That area was used for other activities then washing a beautiful man. The Sheikh looked round to where she still was sitting and motioned her towards him grabbing the towel from Idriss and ordering him to get another dry one as her hair would be very wet. He started to dry her off in tender motions and she felt Idriss rubbing her long hair dry. It was a weird sensation standing completely naked between two giant men who had their hands all over her body. Almost dry Idriss told her to stand still and started to brush her wet curls. Her hair laying damp and combed over her bare back. Her arms covered in goosebumps. The Sheikh held out his hand and said to her "Well Rosebud if you still know where to locate my bedroom do take me there as Idriss commanded." She walked him out of the baths, through the long archway connecting the harem with his chambers. The moonlight making the garden look black. The fountain tinkling softly. She opened the door to his bedroom still holding his strong hand in hers. Silently they walked to the bed. She let go of his hand and turned the covers telling him the bed was ready for him. He got himself in and then looked at her. "Come here," he said. She stepped towards the bed and hesitated. He just lifted her up and onto the sheet next to him and into his embrace. He folded the covers around the both of them and then just hugged her close and fell asleep again. She laid there for awhile feeling his strong arms and torso all around her but then his regular slow breathing and the warmth of his body made her very sleepy. Just before falling asleep she realised that for the first time in many weeks she felt safe and not so utterly alone. It seemed like no time had passed when she woke up by the call to prayers announcing daybreak. She was alone in the big bed. It felt suddenly very empty without his sleeping body all around her. Then she heard his footsteps in the bathroom and he came walking towards her. His body moved like a predator she thought. The semi darkness still revealing his piercing glance. She started to feel afraid again. He bowed down over her and said "We only have a short time puppet. A day of judgement is ahead." and placed both his hand around her face to kiss her. She felt peppermint on his breath and aftershave on his smooth cheeks. His moustache tickling her lip. She realised he had washed and prepared for the day letting her sleep. He lifted the cover to get back into bed and moved himself looming over her kissing her again and again looking into her eyes in the intervals. Suddenly she wanted to please this dominant man. To see him appreciate her. To know she would pleasure him. To hear him say she had been a good girl. She moved her legs so he could easily enter her. His member already a battle-ram at her gate. He stopped his overtures and ran a hand down along her body finding her slit and her button. Stroking her there. "You are already so wet" she heard him say with his mouth around her nipple. "Please my lord. I have been a good girl and tried to master all the harem arts for you," she heard herself beg to her astonishment. Rubbing herself against him body. He held her in his arms and slowly moved himself into her wet folds. She felt his hardness again fill her up. The familiar fullness but without the pain. Her eyes looking in his face for a signal she was doing it right. He just looked still very commanding and intimidating and fully awake. He moved in her and she found a way to keep in sync with his trusts. Rejoicing in his body all around and in her. Holding onto his shoulders with both arms. Her legs crossing below his buttocks. He kissed the valley between her breasts and said "You are so beautiful puppet". She surrendered herself to him. -.- He looked into her big blue eyes and parted lips and smiled. She was so good to have in his arms. That reserved Northerner was making now the most lovely kitten mews while he was trashing her body. He felt the muscles in her belly and in her upper legs twitch and jerk like waves under her skin. Her breasts slapping around in the rhythm of him pounding her pussy. The bells in her nipples tingling. Her mouth gaping for air. It felt like his shaft was in a slick wet glove that seemed to get wetter and wetter. And her contracting muscles made him forget about going slow and her being very new at this and very tight. Her moans in his rhythm. The rougher skin of her g-spot, the entrance of her womb, his balls smacking against her bottom. It just made him want to be deeper and deeper in her. He felt her rise under him, arching her back, shivering and gripping his clock with her muscles milking him to breed her. He lifted her ass in the air and felt his balls exploding pumping his seamen out into her womb. Wave upon wave. He kept sitting on his knees breathing hard holding her up in the air with his hands under her hips even after the last shot had erupted in her. Looking at the panting, sweatcovered woman in his arms. His skin dark against her creamy one. Her curls all over his pillow. Knowing that holding her like this she had the highest chance to get pregnant. To be his totally. -.- He had pulled her in his lap while she was still trying to catch her breath and her heart-rate to slow down. "Did I please you my lord?" she asked but he had just bowed down to kiss her. "Sir?" She longed to to hear him say she had done well and made him glad but he had just put her on her feet. "Go" he said "Get yourself to Azziza and let yourself be washed, fed and pampered as I have to go and work. Let her dress you formally in a long dress and a headveil and a faceveil covering you totally and then let Idriss escort you to the Gallery of the Queens. I know you spend many hours there looking at me rule the country and judge people. Late in the morning there is a case you certainly want to see" and then had padded her on her bum sending her off. Azziza had indeed washed her, rubbed ointment on sore places, massaged her lower back and then gave her hot tea and strawberries with creamy yoghurt. And held the crying woman who was longing to hear her lord tell her he cared. After that she had dressed her in a long gown of very light yellow that had a rosebud pattern just like her blouse had, making her realise this had been made for her in advance. She combed her hair back under a kind of crown placing a long veil under it that flowed down over her shoulders and her back covering most of her figure. Her face had been covered by another one that reached her belly. In the mirror the only part of herself visible where her eyebrows and eyes, her hands and her slippered feet. She stood in the gallery looking through the mesharabe, the beautifully carved wooden grating, what made her able to look in the throne-room but none of the people there would see her in the shadows behind the panelling. Before her master bowed a man of about 35. Next to him stood in man in uniform reporting on the crimes the man had done. In the crowd African looking women wailed. She more or less felt Idriss walking towards her. He held out a phone and showed her the textmessages. It started in Arabic and the only thing she understood of that was her name. Under it a message to her was written. "Rosebud you did please me very much last night and as a reward I am asking you what punishment you would think fitting for this man. He put 80 women and children in a wreck of a ship letting them pay 10,000 dollar and promised to help them cross towards Europe. The boat collapsed. 23 children and 7 mothers drowned. I know you worked with refugees like that for years. What punishment is fit for him?" She gasped at the phone. So he was pleased. But what was this? She looked up to Idriss and asked "What is customary for crimes like this?" "Dead" he answered. "Type your verdict." She looked at the phone and started typing. "This man may choose. Either getting hanged for his crimes or do penance. In that case he should be whipped in public for his crimes 1 lash for each victim and I know how that hurts. If 30 strokes will kill him they best be administered in batches over time. Then he will be displayed on the main market square in a cage for 30 days and beg on his knees for forgiveness from every woman or child that orders him to do so. Letting others see how despicable people like him are. For the next 30 years he should work as a slave at an orphanage. Only to be released if the children he raised there will testify towards his kind behaviour. But he will still live." She pressed send and saw him look at his computerscreen. She realised she had put a sentence down that would remind him of the one he gave her but in this case there was a chance to be forgiven. He beckoned with his finger and Idriss took her arm and escorted her down towards the throne-room bringing her at a stop at her master's feet. The people in the room all looked at the woman who was brought out by an eunuch. They realised they were gazing at one of their lord's women. Her blue eyes and the light eyebrows and skin even veiled revealing she was a stranger to their lands. One moment she wondered if telling those people their lord held her prisoner or run for it would help her but she was afraid his long sword or those of the guards would silence her. So she just stood there slightly trembling wondering what he had planned. "Look at this woman," the Sheikh barked towards the peoplesmuggler. "Before she came to live in my palace she spent years caring for people you have been plundering and sending to their deaths. I will let her judge you as you were a leech bleeding women and children. She does understand our language a bit but cannot speak it properly enough so I will translate her verdict on you. Do not even dare looking at what is mine for one moment longer. Prostate yourself and hear your fate." He started the formal sentences that had been the formula for verdicts for many centuries and then turned his flaming eyes towards her. "Speak" he ordered. And she repeated what she had written down just a few moments ago. Him translating her soft sentences one by one as she went. The man was trembling at her feet and the mothers in the back started to cheer when they heard this princess standing at the feet of her husband speak in their own language damming that cruel beast who had preyed upon them. She knelt down and bowed her head on the floor. "My lord can I ask one favour?" He stared down at her wondering what she was doing now and then said "Yes." "The women who are here and who travelled from their country through the desert have probably no place to go to anymore now they are here more or less stranded. Would you be so kind to offer them and their children a safe place to live and work? May they be your personal wards?" The women started to cheer again throwing themselves on the floor as well like that princess in her veil. Prisoner in his Harem Ch. 03 He stood up and told everyone to rise and declared they would be all under his protection. Softly saying to Rosebud when the room was filling with cheers and laughter "Was this answer enough puppet if you pleasured me?" sending her back to his harem by Idriss's hand. And Rosebud who used to be a renowned lawyer and now just lived to please her lord smiled and hugged Idriss' big frame making him grumble the moment the gate of the harem had safely closed behind their backs. "Idriss I think he is starting to love me."