The Sheik and the Slave

Yasmeen took her leave, but Katharine remained chilled in the water. She had understood a few of the words and knew that she had been called a whore. Yet, was Yasmeen wrong? As his wife, she had to submit to him and watch as he took woman after woman to his bed. It was degrading. She had a right to be upset.

If Katharine submitted to Mohammed, she would become a whore. After all, he could empty his cream into any of these women! She would become nothing to him. Her body would become

used and loose and she would be given to other men to enjoy and take. This would become her life if she submitted. She knew she must escape.

Bashasha waved the women away as Katharine stood before her, naked. Bashasha smiled. It was no wonder that the sheik was taken with her. She had a slim body that was appealing, but she was also feminine and curvy, with long legs the color of cream, a small waist, and high, young breasts. She would have to suckle many sons before they became saggy and old, Bashasha thought enviously.

The abaya gown was long, with enormous sleeves that fell to the wrists. The bodice was fitted but not tight, and the gown itself fell around the hips and legs but did not reveal anything. Deep, silver embroidery danced along the simple neckline, wrists, and hem of the gown.

The gown covered her completely and gave her a sense of modesty. Although she was allowed no undergarments, the dress provided breathing for her and she did not miss the corset at all.

The majlis, a reception room where the meal was taken, was a large room decorated with carpets and cushions. Katharine had never seen the room before. It was colorful and decorated in the vibrant colors of red, yellow, and orange.

Hospitality was taken very seriously in Arabia, and Mohammed made certain his guests were comfortable and had all that they required.

The meal would consist of lamb, chicken, rice, dates, and other dishes native to the area. Alcohol was forbidden by Islam, but it could be offered to non-Muslim guests. Finally, after the meal, tea and coffee would be served along with date cakes and other desserts.

Many men were already seated around the large room. Katharine noticed the sheik speaking to several men at the far corner.

Fear gripped her stomach. The sheik spoke English well. Why did he want her here? Surely, he would not want a mere woman doing business with these important men. Why had he demanded her presence? She was escorted by the Chief Eunuch to another corner and smiled at an older gentleman as she was seated.

The sheik had not yet noticed her, but regardless of that, her hands shook. She accepted some wine and took a sip. It was warm and flavorful. She smiled again as the gentleman spoke to her in perfect French. She knew that alcohol was not allowed, but surmised that the sheik made an exception for his foreign guests.

Katharine quickly slipped into the French language and the nervousness ceased. He was telling her of his younger days in Paris and his first love, which had been architecture. She laughed in delight at his humor and threw her head back, exposing the long white column of her throat.

Mohammed jerked his head toward her in response and saw her laugh, her head thrown back in pleasure. Her blonde, golden hair fell around her and she looked beautiful, like a lovely painting frozen in time. His jaw tightened as the foreign Frenchman admired her.

Katharine had just finished her first glass of wine when suddenly she and the Frenchman were joined by a small, stocky man with a monocle and cane. Katharine’s heart skipped a beat when he spoke to her in a perfectly clipped English accent.

“Good evening, my dear. You might not remember me but I remember you. It’s good to see you again, Lady Fairfax.” He bowed over her hand and kissed it lightly.

Oh dear God, Katharine thought. I am going to be free at last!

Mohammed came across the room and joined her trio, so before long, she was separated from the Englishman. She tried to remember his name as she spoke to another French gentleman. She was sure he had been a friend of her father’s and she was quite certain he was an earl.

She sipped her second glass of the sweet wine but ate nothing. She was nervously thinking about how she could get a message to the Englishman when she saw the sheik watching her. She knew those dark eyes followed her movements, watching her lips as she spoke. She looked away and tried to follow the conversation with the two Frenchmen. The language was not a problem to follow, but she felt warm and his eyes made her feel the liquid between her thighs.

She knew she must get a message to the Englishman before he left the palace. She had no friends among the harem women and the servants barely knew her.

The musicians left to dine, save one musician who stayed alone, strumming his oud. The player with the riq returned as well. The oud was a solemn instrument and the riq, a tambourine, were soon joined by an Egyptian harem woman. She was to perform the “raqs sharqi” which was also known as the Eastern Dance. It was a seductive dance performed alone by a woman dressed in veils, moving her arms and hips in time with the music.

The men were all entranced as the woman moved her belly and her hips suggestively to the oud’s beats. Her breasts moved to the music and Katharine felt herself flushed and warm. It had been unwise to drink the wine and eat nothing.

Mohammed watched the Egyptian girl sway and move to the music and saw Katharine in a halo of silver across the room. He had watched her interact with the Frenchmen and knew at home in England she must have been a consummate flirt. She had beauty and intellect, yet she kept herself aloof and untouchable. Men would want her. Had he been a lord or earl in her far away land, she probably would have led him on. And how might it have ended?

But such was not the case. They were both here in this desert land, and he wanted her. The ending for them in this land would be his princess on her back and the next sheik of Arabia deep in her belly.

Katharine’s cheeks cooled in the night air. Many of the visitors were heading off to their rooms in the palace, and the sheik had graciously allowed them their pick of companion for the night. The harem would be empty when she returned there. She knew it was probably close to midnight when she watched the Frenchmen leave, almost skipping down the steps to enjoy their night with the harem women.

Katharine had looked for the Englishman, but had not seen him again. The wind picked up behind her and brushed her hair across her mouth.

“Princess,” Mohammed said as he stood beside her, using his long fingers to take the golden strands away from her mouth.

”Yes?” she asked breathlessly. She felt light-headed and dizzy as she stood before him.

“My guests are retiring for the evening and the harem women will satisfy their remaining needs.”

She blushed in the dark.