The Sheikh's Virgin Mistress 2 (Jatar Sheikh 2)
“I understand that the perceptions of servitude to a westerner are far different than ours. I am unoffended. Although, if you do not allow me to do my job, I will be disciplined by his highness, and I would rather that not happen.”
“Really? Like how would he discipline you? Not like physically hurt you?” I sort of squeaked my concern.
Yasmin tilted her head to the side in an expression I best translated as; it’s not out of the realm of possibility. Then she smiled and her eyes danced, “Come on Anna, try and enjoy this—this!” She spread her arms and did a quick turn, “Look at this! I’ve been collecting for you for months and months. I want to adorn you and paint on this lovely canvas. You are as stunning as he described. Your skin is amazing and your figure is that of a Greek goddess. Let me serve you.”
I sagged and let out a dramatic exhale. I also gave up with my towel and shrugged, “Okay. Fine, let’s do this.” She momentarily dropped her cool demeanor and let out
a girly squeal of delight, and then she began handing me first lacey little under things, and then thigh high stockings and a garter set, which I did need help with since I’d never worn them before. After that she helped me get into a sleek white dress that cut down over my breast, exposing just a hint of skin. By the time I made my way to the chair in front of the vanity for her to do my hair, I already felt more dressed up than I’d ever been before.
The necklace was brilliant as it sparkled in the sun streaming in through the window, and after she gave me the matching earrings and bracelet, I almost felt like royalty. I still thought it was all too much, but I couldn’t stop myself from fondling the jewels as they danced on my skin. They were set in platinum, and within seconds it all took on my body temperature and felt as if it were part of me.
I was still in just my stockings, and after she sat me down, she started in on my hair. She oiled her hands and gently massaged my scalp and then she carefully untangled the still damp fall of my mane. I relaxed and closed my eyes and sort of fell asleep at how good it all felt. When I opened my eyes at her prompting, my hair was in a stunning braid that traveled across the top of my head and opened up to a flow of auburn hair that cascaded over my right shoulder. It was a work of art the way she’d plaited it, and I again just stared at my reflection in awe.
She turned the chair and did my eyes and then my lips, but didn’t use any other makeup, explaining, “You are flawless and his highness appreciates raw beauty. He might like lots of adornments and jewels, but he does not like much makeup. Remember that.”
“That’s good because I rarely wear it. I don’t even know much about makeup.” She presented me with a pair of white snake skin pumps and I sighed, but I didn’t argue as I let her put them on my feet. “Best get use to heels, he won’t allow anything else.”
I sort of cringed at the word, allow, but I let it go.
CHAPTER TEN
“You are a vision, my Anna.”
He was dressed in his customary three piece suit, this one a shiny silver grey that set off his liquid amber eyes in a striking way. I was still grappling with that overwhelmed feeling. Some of what Yasmin had said, continued to rattle around in my head, especially the whole, allow, thing; like I would no longer be my own woman. I wasn’t even an adult yet, I’d never made any money or taken care of myself, and now here I was on the cusp of belonging to a powerful man. My future had disintegrated when I fled the conference, and now it seemed as if I was on an entirely new course, without any choice or say in the matter, and I felt a bit panicked.
Omar escorted me to the elevator and we sped down through the immense building. I’d not been outside since arriving, and when the dry, hot desert air hit me, I momentarily staggered. My body had been accustomed to a perfect sixty eight degree environment and the blast of heat made my head swim. Omar steadied me and I apologized. I really felt off, and I didn’t know why or what was wrong with me.
His raft of men flanked us and I noticed a few random pedestrians turn and then hastily bow their heads. Omar seemed to not notice as he ushered me into another block long white limousine. Once I got into the car, I craned my neck to look up towards where I had been dwelling. The building loomed over us like a goliath, and puffy clouds obliterated the view of the spires on top. It looked like one enormous gem as it sparkled and danced in the mid-morning sun. I felt incredibly small in comparison and found it difficult to believe that was where I dwelt and was now expected to call it home.
I had a pang of homesickness wash over me in that moment and magically, Omar seemed to notice.
“What is troubling you?” He asked.
I shook my head and mumbled, “Nothing, I’m fine.” He held my hand and then the car went into motion. I blurted, “I don’t feel very good.”
He turned towards me, “Are you getting ill?”
“No, not physically. Emotionally. I’m kind of homesick.”
He inhaled through his nose in thought, nodding. “I suppose that is to be expected. Hopefully I will be able to distract you. I am taking you out to the new island settlement. I want to show you our latest creation.” He puffed out his chest and added, “We have generated new land. It makes me feel as if I am a god in my own right. Ahhh, to create land from the ocean floor is indeed a mystical thing.”
His arrogance was charming and a bit too much at times, but I said nothing, only indicating with a slight nod that I was into it. Otherwise, I remained silent as I looked out the window. I pretended to be captivated with the view. I wasn’t. I felt grumpy and out of sorts and I didn’t feel like talking about it.
He either chose to ignore my mood, or he was too self-absorbed. I couldn’t tell. I absently calculated when my last period was and I figured I might have been a bit hormonal. I tried to lighten my mood and I faked being happy, hoping that would work.
When we got to the ocean, he escorted me to a lavish small boat that looked like a miniature yacht. I had trouble in the high heels, but he never let go of my hand. I saw no other people around in our general vicinity apart from one woman in a full black burka who plastered herself to the sidewalk when she recognized Omar. He seemed to not even notice her.
Once we settled on the boat, I asked him, “What did Yasmin mean about being disciplined if she didn’t please me and in turn, you?”
He answered nonchalantly, “Discipline is good for the soul. The fear of discipline even better.”
“What would you do?” I asked.
He was pensive as he thought, and then he grinned, “You know, I’ve not had to discipline anyone in a long time. I love to give a good spanking!” He announced as if that were common place.
“A spanking? To an adult?”
“Indeed, but only to the girls,” He said with an evil glint in his eye. “The females usually enjoy it even though it is supposed to be meant as punishment.” He laughed inwardly as he thought and then blurted, “I had one servant that tried my patience like no other. After the tenth or so spanking I began to wonder about her. I made her one of my lovers after that, and she allowed me to explore my inner sadist.”