Katharine pulled away from the women as they tried to bathe and attend to her.
“Stop it! Don’t touch me!” she screamed and tried to evade their hands. They scraped the hair from her arms and legs and scrubbed her clean. They pulled her legs apart and inserted a cool cream into her tight vagina.
“Are you mad? Stop it!” she cried, and wondered if this was a nightmare. She tried to fight the tears and maintain her anger, but she was tired and the drug was still in effect.
“Lady, we are to ready you. Body hair removal and cleanliness is essential,” a small woman spoke. The hair around her most intimate place was left, as was the sheik’s preference.
“Ready me for what?” Katharine asked.
“The master, of course,” Bashasha said.
Bashasha was an older woman with a kind little face and soft voice. She was the overseer of the harem and used her kindness to ensure the harem ran smoothly. It was no easy task to keep 27 plus women complacent and happy. Fighting was a casualty of an easy life where women sat around much of the time. There was also sharp competition for the sheik’s eye, and favoritism happened even though he tried to mask it.
Bashasha smiled at the girl’s reluctance.
“He is a wonderful lover, generous and gentle,” she said. “You will see.”
“No, you will see!” Katharine argued. “I have no desire for anyone! I have been abducted, kidnapped, brought to this strange land where I know no one! I am to marry an English lord if and when I choose,” Katharine cried aloud as another young beauty inserted her fingers inside her tight pussy.
Bashasha listened intently as the girl spoke to her in a foreign language. She then said to Katharine, “She says you are a virgin.”
“Don’t touch me!” Katharine replied. “Of course I am untouched, that is a gift for my husband.”
“This will please our master very much,” Bashasha said. “He will enjoy you.”
Katharine almost screamed but her head was swimming.
“No! This is insane! I am a lady from England. I demand to be sent home this instant,” she yelled.
Bashasha patted her hand and told Katharine, “Lady, this is to be your home. You were sold to our master. I suggest you forget your faraway land and make the best of this. Your only purpose here is to serve the master. But don’t be afraid. You will live a life of luxury.”
“NEVER! Never!”
Katharine screamed.
“Yes, you will submit to his desire. If you please him, he will treat you well. If you don’t, he may sell you to another sheik,” Bashasha cautioned her.
Katharine sobbed as the women in the harem dressed her in brightly-colored foreign clothes. Their hands rubbed jasmine-scented oil into her arms, hands, legs and her most private parts.
“Please, no,” she begged. She felt violated and was tired. The drug weighed her normally agile mind down and she felt like she was swimming underwater.
“You are ready. Come with me,” Bashasha commanded. Katharine reluctantly followed Bashasha through the many corridors and into a large room that was dominated by a bed filled with pillows and a large pool behind it. Persian rugs in dark masculine colors of brown and red lay on the floor, and beautiful tiles covered the walls and decorated the pool. It was a lovely room.
“Wait here, mistress,” Bashasha said, leaving her alone.
Mohammed had been thinking about the beauty since she first arrived. He was throbbing at the thought of her long legs around his waist and was bewitched by the golden hair and blue eyes, which he had long dreamed about but never seen. She was a vision. He was hidden in a secret panel and quietly slid the wall open. He came behind her and was able to smell her scented with jasmine, his favorite scent.
“My lady,” said the sheik.
She whirled around and found herself face to face with a most beautiful man. Tall and bronzed, he was just as handsome as he had been when she first spied him in the audience chambers. He was dark and attractive in a way that Englishmen never were. But none of that mattered in the least; she wanted to be sent home immediately.
“Sir, my name is Lady Katharine Fairfax. I demand that you return me to my father and my home in England. I have no wish to be here at all.”
“Well, that is difficult. Because I very much wish you to be here,” he said. His gaze wandered over her form, starting with her breasts, chest, hips, and then back to her breasts. His fingers wandered over the neckline and rested on her collarbone, outlining it in a suggestive manner. She shuddered lightly.
“Sir! You overstep yourself,” she said. Katharine was shocked at his outrageous behavior.
He grinned. “Milady, I am Sheik Mohammed Aksam Al Sabid. I own more land here than in the whole of England. I have bought you and you are now part of my property, which I intend to take the greatest of care with.” He pulled her forward and his hands moved inside the robe. As the robe’s top fell around her waist, he saw that her small nipples were colored like small roses and he cupped them. They were beautifully shaped.