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Authors: Alexx Andria

Sold To The Sheik

BOOK: Sold To The Sheik
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Layla is set to study college courses abroad when she's abducted outside her hotel room and promptly sold into sexual slavery to an obscenely wealthy sheik who has paid for the privilege of being the first man between her legs. Layla finds herself among a harem of pampered slaves but refuses to yield to the man who makes her shake and quiver, but more importantly, makes her question who she truly is and wants.

SOLD TO THE SHEIK

By Alexx Andria

Copyright 2012 by Alexx Andria

 

*Author’s Note: Formerly published as KEPT. This new version has been updated and mildly revised to better reflect the tone of the story. The original can still be found in the bundle titled, UNWILLING.

*This naughty bit of a story is intended for mature readers only. It features acts of sexual gratification and dubious consent of the Master and slave kind. If you’re not 18 years or older, find something else to read.

The following short story of approx.12,300 word is a work of fiction.

 

My eyes were blinded by a swatch of coarse black cloth, my hands bound and hung above my head. I remember firm, supple fingertips, kneading and testing the smooth pliancy of my flesh. I was warned not to utter a sound or my punishment would be severe. I was to accept the poking and prodding, the delving into my most private of places, without a murmur of complaint.

And those fingers did not hesitate to explore roughly or crudely.

I was at the mercy of strangers, frightened and alone. My only currency was what could be bartered between my legs. I’d had no idea such things happened to real people until the day I was stuffed into an awaiting van with a black hood thrown over my head.

“Imagine my surprise,” the woman I came to know as CoCo had said to me, mindless of the tears that streaked my face, after I’d been examined on a dirty table presumably by a doctor of some sort, “when I was told you were still a virgin. Hard to find these days, especially with a face and body such as yours. Everyone’s a whore it seems, no matter how young they are.”

CoCo, crossed her arms delicately and peered down at me, assessing me with cool efficiency. “You will fetch a good price at the sale. Much better than anyone else. You’re the crème de la crème, my dear.”

I didn’t bother pleading — the woman was cut from stone — but I could do nothing about the tears that continued to fall.

A shadow of concern flitted across CoCo’s face and she perched along the edge of the bed where I was tied to the headboard to smooth the hair from my eyes. “Darling,” she purred, gently pushing an errant strand of my white-blonde hair behind my ear as if she were a kind relative rather than my captor. “You mustn’t grieve for a life that was not for you. You have the body of a goddess. It is to be celebrated and honored, my sweetness. Men will pay hundreds of thousands of dollars to have the honor of plucking that lovely cherry. It is an honor and gift I give you. You shall see.”

“I just want to go home,” I’d said in a raspy whisper. My voice had grown hoarse the first three days of my abduction. By the fourth day, I’d given up crying and screaming and tried reason but to no avail. “Why are you doing this to me?”

CoCo ignored my question and plucked at an invisible piece of lint before answering with a smile that scared me. “Why not?”

I licked my lips, tears leaking down my face. “I’m a person, not something you can buy and sell. What you’re doing is illegal. This is human trafficking!”

Irritated by my show of emotion, CoCo stood and her eyes lit up as she began to talk about the night of the sale. “You know, it isn’t often we find someone of your caliber. Of course, we sent out an exclusive invitation to our most valued and discerning clients and the response was overwhelming. Far better than we could’ve imagined,” she said, making me cringe. She patted my bare knee. “Now, enough with these silly tears. You must look your best tonight, darling. You will be bathed and waxed, your beautiful blonde hair will be washed and styled and then your fingers and toes tended to as well. We are saving you for last in the show. The anticipation is already building within our buyers. You will be our showcase event.” She added with a cold smile as an aside, “Oh, and darling…please remember to be silent. Our clients do not like weepy girls. They like obedient, pretty and quiet.”

Perhaps I ought to scream my head off
. She must’ve read the defiant thought from my expression and warned, “If you disobey, I will personally strip that sweet flesh from your bones and then sell your worthless carcass to the worst possible brothel I can find where I can guarantee your body will be ravaged by disease before the year is out. Am I clear, sweetness?”

I shuddered with real fear. CoCo’s threat was not idle. There’d been whispers of terrible things…of consequences too horrific to talk about in the light of day. I didn’t doubt CoCo’s threat and it scared me into compliance.

It hardly seemed possible that a week ago I’d been waving goodbye to my friends as I loaded onto the plane to Europe, planning to spend a year abroad as part of a college immersion program. Right now, my parents believed I was settling in with my host family. It would be several days before they realized something was amiss. By then, only God knew where I’d be.

That’s how I came to be hanging like a piece of meat,
blindfolded,
subjected to pokes and pinches by total strangers, as they inspected what they considered chattel up for bid.

“She is untouched, yes?” one accented man asked with a salacious grunt, pushing a fat digit roughly into my shrinking folds, mortified to my bones that I was being subjected to such an invasion. I bit my lip to keep from crying out. He chuckled and twisted a sensitive nipple. “She is a succulent fruit, eh? I like the American girls…they are so much fun to break.” He pushed his finger deeper inside, past the knuckle and I jerked against the assault, biting my lip so hard I tasted blood.

Polite laughter ensued and tears wet my cheek.

“If you continue to fuck her with your finger, she will no longer be a virgin,” a dark voice said, a hint of warning in that smooth timber. I automatically turned my head in the direction of the sound. “And her value will drop. Isn’t that so, CoCo?”

CoCo’s nervous titter followed as she said, “Yes, yes…she is a temptation, isn’t she? But please, gentlemen…for the sake of preserving what is most special about her…no insertions until after you’ve paid for the privilege. Then you may do as you like to her young body.”

A paper-thin sheath barely covered my body and did little to shield me from the cold in the room. The temperature was only chilly enough to perk my nipples but not enough to cause shivering.

“And you are certain she is pure?” the man asked, his hands gently spanning my waist and framing my hips to squeeze the firm muscles of my rear. I’d been a competitive dancer for years and even though I no longer competed, my body had retained the muscle built from years of diligent practice. In fact, my dancing friends had teased that I’d grown soft because my breasts had filled out and my hips had rounded whereas they had remained lean and taut from maintaining a rigid diet combined with their rigorous training. My breath wheezed painfully in my chest as my heart thundered against my breastbone. His touch was different from the others, as if he appreciated the value of what he held in his hand; unlike the brutes who had likely left bruises in their rough handling.

“Of course,” CoCo answered assuredly, her tone almost subservient and so unlike the tone she’d always used with her crop of girls. “Our physician did a thorough examination. Her hymen is intact.”

My cheeks burned hot at the casual mention of my private matters. Suddenly, my decision to abstain until marriage seemed a foolish and romantic notion when faced with losing it to a total stranger who’d simply purchased my virginity for his own pleasure. I fought to contain my trembling but I felt like a leaf buffeted by a stiff wind.

“Her skin is exquisite,” he murmured with what sounded like faint surprise. “Where did you find her?”

Again, the nervous laughter and CoCo redirected with a simpering, “Now, now…such details are unimportant, darling. Shall we retire to the salon and start the bidding? Henri? Champagne for our guests, please.”

Silence followed and I realized they’d all filed from the room. I shuddered. One of these vile people would purchase me like a head of cattle and take my virginity like something out of the medieval times. In their eyes, I was simply a woman to be owned, not a person with rights.

I didn’t know how long I remained in that cold room, suspended by my hands, my feet barely dusting the floor, but it’d seemed forever before the opening of a door finally broke the quiet of the room. My hands were numb from loss of circulation and I feared nerve damage.

“You are a lucky little bitch,” CoCo said into my ear. “Try to remember that. Adieu, darling.” And then something sharp pierced my skin. Before I could cry out, I was aware of nothing.

 

I awoke slowly, my head throbbing in time to the beat of my heart. My blurred vision cleared and I heard soft female voices.

“I think she’s awake,” one said.

“She’s so pretty,” said another.

And yet another giggled knowingly as she said, “I bet Omar will keep her all to himself for days.”

I scooted away from the voices and tried rubbing the blurriness from my eyes. My mouth tasted of bitter cotton and I knew I’d been drugged. Whatever CoCo had filled me with had knocked me out long enough to transport me here —
wherever here was.

“Where am I?” I asked, my voice coming out sounding scratchy and rusty. Three young women sat clustered around me on a giant bed of vibrant silks and satins of reds, oranges and lemon-yellow. They peered at me with open curiosity, assessing me with bold glances. They were dressed in flowing, gauzy shifts that left little to the imagination and I realized with a start that I was dressed similarly. I gasped and tried to cover my breasts but my action only caused the women to laugh at my foolishness. “Who are you people?” I demanded to know, though my voice wobbled with fear.

A brunette with long, flowing locks that curled like wild roots searching for water, came forward with a welcoming smile that showcased white teeth and began introductions as if they were all sorority sisters and likely to come BFFs and not prisoners dressed like sex slaves “I’m Belinda,” she pointed to the redhead, “She’s Scarlet,” then finally pointed at the short blond, “And she’s Cassie. And you are?”

“Layla,” I answered haltingly, not quite sure what to make of these women. I was afraid to ask but I needed to know. I asked again, “Where am I?”

“Can’t you tell?” Belinda asked, gesturing to the opulent room filled with ornate gold furnishings and cool marble floors. The obvious wealth in the room was astounding. When I met Belinda’s amused stare, she answered, “You’ve been purchased by Sheik Omar Hakim for his harem. Consider yourself lucky. He only selects the best and he’s notoriously picky about his women. There must’ve been something about you that made him want to bring you here.”

“I’ve been kidnapped and brought here against my will. I’d hardly consider that luck. Can you help me, please?” I pleaded with Belinda. “I was on my way to study abroad when I was abducted from outside my hotel room and then auctioned off. I didn’t come here willingly!”

Cassie nodded as if understanding, saying, “I cried for days when I first came. But when I realized I had a much better life here as a pampered member of Omar’s harem, I stopped crying. You will, too.”

I stared at the blond, not quite sure I was hearing correctly. “You like it here?”

She bobbed a nod with a smile. “We all do.”

Scarlet laughed at my look of horror. “Oh, don’t be so shocked. We live as princesses do. We want for nothing and Omar is a very kind Master and a skilled lover. You will come to adore it here.”

“He bought me like a cow at market,” I said, wiping away the sudden show of angry tears as the events of the last few days rolled over me. I couldn’t stop the words as they tumbled out at the first show of true human kindness, even if they were crazy in believing life as a prisoner was better than wherever they’d come from. “I miss my parents, my friends…I just want to go home. The things they did to me…” I buried my face in my arms, sobbing openly. Within seconds, all three clustered around me, crooning soft words of comfort as I cried. Their perfume surrounded me in a sensual cloud that made me want to lay my head against their soft shoulders. I’d never been attracted to women but at that moment I was starved for kindness and frightened out of my mind. When the first press of soft lips met my own, I didn’t fight it. I closed my eyes and accepted the comfort given. Another set of lips pressed feather-light kisses along the column of my neck while another gently fluttered sweet touches along the curve of my breast. My tears finally stopped and I reluctantly opened my eyes to peer into Belinda’s deep brown ones.

BOOK: Sold To The Sheik
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