The Sheik and the Slave

“Why does he ask me to go get the women? It was always the eunuchs before I came,” she asked Bashasha.

As a virgin, she felt cheapened and dirty as she went to retrieve the sated-looking women in a room smelling of sex and semen, and feeling those dark, hooded eyes on her whenever she appeared to him.

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

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

Bashasha pulled the beautiful blonde with her as she neared the door.

“Bah! You know why,” she replied.

“No I don’t know. Why?” She waited for the harem mistress to answer.

“He summons you to see you. To watch you and undress you with his eyes. To bring you to heel so that you can see the woman he has just made love to. You know why, little one,” she spoke quietly, pushing her into the corridor.

Katharine knew it was true. He was always watching her with those dark eyes. Her scant clothes provided little protection as he probed her body and longed to take away her innocence.

Gameela arched her back as his cock sank into her. She gasped at the largeness of him. He pulled her firmly onto his cock as it penetrated deep 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 of his private room.

Katharine watched with large eyes as Gameela rode the sheik. From where she was standing, she could only see the woman’s small brown ass and her long dark hair falling down her back. The sheik was lying beneath her but to the right of Gameela so when Katharine entered, he saw her. His hands gripped Gameela tighter and as he plunged into the woman, but his eyes were on Katharine.

Katharine locked eyes with him, even as he performed this most intimate act with another woman. Just as his cock remained inside Gameela, his thoughts and his mind were with Katharine. He wanted the blonde’s tiny pussy surrounding his cock. He wanted her bouncing on top of him and climaxing on his cock.

Katharine 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 Katharine. His dark eyes watched the blonde in the shadows as the dark-haired girl’s mouth took his cock. Katharine blushed pink in the dark.

Katharine watched the sheik with Gameela and suddenly couldn’t help herself. Her hand moved into her loose fitting pants and her small finger delved past the tiny curls and into her tight, wet pussy. She was wet and wanted him. She knew it was wrong, and knew she shouldn’t give in to this madness. She was ashamed of herself and abruptly she pulled her hand away, but it was too late.

He had seen her touch herself and he quickly emptied his seed into Gameela’s warm mouth. Gameela swallowed delicately and left quietly.

Gameela did not wait to walk back with Katharine, sensing something in the air between them.

“Come here, princess,” Mohammed said to Katharine.

Katharine lowered her eyes in shame. She should never have done such a rash thing. She didn’t want to be near him and she hated it when he called her princess, mocking her past life and position.

She could not run. What would be the silly p

oint of that? He would only have her brought back. Until I find a way to escape, she thought, I must bear his existence.

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

“I’ve asked you not to call me that,” she told him sullenly.

Mohammed grinned. “Lie back upon the pillows here with me,” he said. He remained seated and at ease, his manhood growing hard again as he watched her.

“No,” she said. She bit her lip to stop from arguing with him.

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

Katharine looked at him angrily and lay back upon the pillows. Her blonde hair sparkled against the dark, embroidered pillows.

“I don’t love you. I don’t even like you,” she whispered to him, but she couldn’t look at him.

“This matters? Your body was made to receive a man and bear children. What is love and like?” Mohammed asked. He admired her elegantly-shaped face with its high cheekbones and lush lips.

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

She turned her head to the side, away from his eyes and touch.