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Authors: Nicola Italia

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Katharine resumed her harem duties, which included bathing
but also helping Bashasha. Together, they performed small details such as
counting blankets, sorting towels, and refilling essential oils. Bashasha had
not seemed surprised at Katharine's return to her duties. She enjoyed her role
as bather, especially since she spent long periods of time alone and did not
see the sheik. Her Arabic had improved greatly, and Bashasha schooled her in
the long afternoons and nights when their work was complete.

Katharine relished her time alone and could be found walking
in the small gardens connected to the harem. The gardens were filled with palm
and date trees and lush plants, as well as two small fountains. Since the sun
beat down upon the white buildings surrounding the garden, it grew very hot
during the daytime, so she bound up her hair when she was able to walk quietly
through the area.

She explored the gardens alone in the afternoon when most of
the household took to napping. One day, while exploring on her own, she walked
through a curved doorway and heard someone coming toward her.

"Hello?" she asked, and almost crashed into the
sheik.

"Princess," he said quietly. He stood with a book
in his hand.

"I didn't mean to disturb you," she told him. She
watched him lay the book across the bench and stand before her.

"You do disturb me," he said darkly. His eyes
wandered over the length of her. He had seen her from afar on several
occasions, but had kept his distance. When she was close like this and when he
was alone with her, he wanted nothing more than to touch her. He wanted her
underneath him, taking his cock inside her body.

His fingers brushed across her collarbone and touched her
neck. He couldn't stop himself.

"Are you unwell?" she asked him, as her heartbeat
sped faster at his touch. Why did he have to touch her? She could stand
anything but his warmth upon her body. His fingers were like magic, warming her
with his touch.

"Yes," he said, as his fingers threaded into her
hair, finding her ivory combs and pulling them out.

"Don't," she said. She shook her head and his
fingers tangled into her hair.

He stood directly before her as he breathed in the jasmine
sent of her silken tresses.

"Why jasmine?" he asked, as his hands moved over
her shoulders.

"Because," she started to say something, but she
couldn't finish. She couldn't tell him the reason.

"Because?" he asked, his mouth touching her neck
and his hand sliding down to her breasts.

"Because you like it," she said, so quietly that
he barely heard her.

His mouth captured hers and his tongue delved into it again
and again. She could feel his goatee rub against her soft skin. His hands moved
down to her bottom to cup it and pull her into his hardened cock. He could feel
his cock bounce at the closeness of her. Katharine could only feel as his hands
wandered the length of her body and she became the woman he wanted. She was
lost until he suddenly pushed her away from him.

She stared up at his handsome, bronzed face and he looked
back at her.

"Keep your distance, princess. Lest you get raped
again," he added. She saw him clench his jaw. Nervously, she turned and
left him.

Mohammed, Sheik of Arabia, stood in his small private garden
holding the two small ivory combs tightly.

***

Katharine's thoughts whirled around her. She had to leave
this place. She was losing her sanity. Given half the chance, she would have
begged the sheik to take her in the garden, not caring who could have been
watching. She was mad! She was losing her mind in this palace, where no one
back home knew she existed.

Worse than her mind, she was giving into her lustful wants
and desires with no promises of tomorrow. She wanted him and nothing else
seemed to matter. Other men had wanted her in England, and she had never cared.
She knew it was something about the sheik himself that made her want him. He was
powerful and sensual and he looked at her as no other man had. It was a look
that would consume and burn.

She stumbled into the harem, not sure of her thoughts. It
was so dark inside. Even with the low candles, she realized it was too dark.
The last thing she remembered was something hitting her head as she fell to the
floor.

Yasmeen smiled as she tossed aside the large urn she had
used to attack the girl.

"Little whore. You made too many enemies," she
said to Katharine

s
helpless, limp figure on the floor. She watched as the two men bundled up the
girl to take her away.

Chapter
7

The man looked at the young girl beneath hooded eyes. Fajer
was well-known in Arabia and for all the wrong reasons. He was the man you
turned to if you wanted something smuggled into Arabia, something smuggled out
of Arabia, and anything else that was illegal or forbidden.

His fingers dropped the greasy chicken leg back onto the
plate and he brushed his hand idly on his round stomach. His girth was large
and rotund after many years of easy living and having his underlings to do most
of his dirty work. He owned a large estate on the edge of the sea and enjoyed
his three concubines most of the time, but this was a matter he had to attend
to himself.

His fingers brushed the long, golden hair of the girl and
she stared back. His dark hooded eyes took in her porcelain perfect face, lush
feminine curves and blue eyes like the Arabian Sea.

He could feel himself stirring. He was a short man with
little hair on top of his head and too much hair everywhere else. He had never
been a handsome man, even when he was young, but he made up for it with his
cunning and devious ways.

His chicken-stained fingers brushed into the girl

s hair again and he
watched her struggle with the bonds that held her hands tightly behind her. So
the stories were true. It had been rumored that the great sheik had been so
taken with a foreign beauty that he had forsaken his concubines and wife and
had become obsessed with the girl.

Having seen her beauty before him, he didn

t doubt the stories or
the obsession. His greasy fingers fingered the tight nipple through the abaya
fabric and he smiled. She was a beauty. He would give the little bitch Yasmeen
whatever she wanted as long as the foreign woman would taste his cock that
evening.

Katharine shook her head and tried to move away, but she
couldn

t. She could
feel the rope biting into her wrists that held her tightly bound. Her breasts
were thrust forward and she wanted to cry out as the odious man that Yasmeen
had taken her to touched her intimately. She struggled again, but they had put
a cloth over her mouth.

Katharine had been given a glass of water before the two men
had tied her up and covered her mouth. She was truly at the mercy of the two
men and the sheik

s
wife.


My
lord,

Yasmeen said
as she stood to one side, watching the scene with amusement and disgust. She
loathed Fajer.

Fajer was a fat little fuck who had been born of a whore and
a camel breeder. Growing up, he had never had more than a handful of riyals to
his name. He had been a street urchin, then a hoodlum of the streets, and then
a mercenary. Slowly, he had built himself a house of gold from his evil doings.
Yasmeen must have been crazy to have come alone here to sell the little cunt,
but Fajer was her only hope. He alone could secure the whore

s passage out of Arabia
and never tell a soul

for
a price.


Yasmeen,

Fajer acknowledged. He
hated doing business with women, especially an uppity bitch like Yasmeen who
didn

t know her
place and never observed hijab

the special covering reserved for Muslim women to cover their head and body to
preserve modesty and morality.


My
lord Fajer, I require your assistance for a small price,

she spoke reverently and bowed slightly.

Katharine watched the two Arabs discuss what was most likely
her fate. She had known that Yasmeen had been behind this plot to destroy her.
She should have been more careful. Where is Mohammed? she wondered.

Fajer listened to Yasmeen drone away and watched the young
foreign beauty. She would have a tight, glistening pussy that would constrict
and hold his cock, and legs that he would pull and force to come around his
waist. Her breasts would be high and lovely as he jerked into her slick passage
and he would make sure he had satisfied himself and maybe her

maybe.
A woman

s pleasure is
never necessary
, he thought to himself.

He listened to Yasmeen

s
voice and his eyes suddenly wandered over her form. She was also a beautiful
woman, sultry and dark in a true Arab way. She was fuller in form than the
white girl, with eyes that were dark and dangerous. She had long, black hair,
and her body was the color of honey.

He stopped touching the girl

s
hair and realized he wanted the uppity Yasmeen instead.
Here is a bitch to
tame appropriately
, he thought to himself.
A bitch to be put onto all
fours and taken roughly like a dog
. Her ass would be high in the air as he
slapped her again and again and stuffed his thick meat into her ass and pussy.

Yes
, he thought idly, as he rubbed himself with no
shame.

Yasmeen watched the fat Fajer touch himself.
Disgusting
pig!
she thought.
He wanted the little cunt already and she had just
arrived a while ago. Why did all the men lust after her? She was a pale little
thing with white skin, golden hair and Arabian Sea eyes

so what? Did her
pussy taste like honey? What was the fuss about?

Yasmeen continued to tell Fajer about her plan to get
Katharine out of the country and on a ship to Africa, where she would be sold
into slavery.

Fajer stroked himself again and watched the way Yasmeen

s eyes glowed in
anticipation. The dark kohl surrounding her eyes made them seem wide and
exotic. He thought of the little bitch taking his cock into her mouth. His cock
was suddenly rock-hard underneath his food-stained robe. Yes, he thought to
himself.
She needs to know the proper place of a woman
.


It
is indeed an interesting situation, Princess Yasmeen,

he said. Fajer noticed that the white girl
was drifting off to sleep and figured that Yasmeen must have drugged her.


I
agree, Fajer. It will all go according to plan and none will be the wiser,

Yasmeen replied.

Inshallah.


What
about Sheik Mohammed?

Fajer asked.

Won

t he miss his little
treasure?

Yasmeen snorted.

Who
cares about the little whore? He has a harem filled with beautiful women. What
is one more?

Fajer chuckled. The little bitch was jealous. He didn

t blame her. The white
woman was a beauty.


What
does Sheik Mohammed think has happened? Does he know yet?

Yasmeen studied the sleeping girl and sighed.


He
knows she is gone, but not who has done the deed.

Yasmeen remembered the scene. She had hidden the little cunt
in a small eunuch

s
room until she had been ready to leave in the night. Mohammed had summoned the
whore and had discovered her missing. He had been in a furious rage when he
discovered his precious little jewel was missing. He had torn the palace apart
looking for her, and had been inconsolable. By the time Yasmeen departed,
Mohammed had sent riders out to the four corners of Arabia to look for her and
awaited their news.


Why
come here alone and risk discovery and his wrath?

Fajer asked.


He
would never suspect me. And the men I hired to carry her and deposit us here
are long gone, but were paid well. No one will ever be the wiser,

Yasmeen said, nodding
smugly.


You
have thought of everything,

Fajer said.

Yasmeen nodded and looked down at him sprawled on the
pillows.


Yes,

she replied.


What
about an outsider telling Lord Mohammed about his beloved

s presence?

Fajer asked
thoughtfully, as if the thought had just come to him.


Who
would do such a thing?

Yasmeen asked arrogantly.


Or
keeping quiet in exchange for something else?

he added.


What
are you saying?

Yasmeen asked, but then she realized Fajer

s
plan.
The fat fuck would turn me in
, she thought.
Of course!
She
had been so blind to think everything would have been easy. He would turn on
her. He would get more money from Mohammed to return the little bitch to him,
and she would be exiled or worse.


I
have no need of your gold or wealth. I have all I could require and more,

Fajer spoke lowly to
her. Yasmeen remained silent.

But
to have the high and mighty bitch princess Yasmeen take my stiff fat cock up
her cunt, now that is something worth trading.

Yasmeen looked shocked and appalled. He didn

t want her money, but he
did want her. It was disgusting! He was disgusting! She would never do it.
Never!


I

ll take my time with you,
Yasmeen. And when I have had my fill, and my big black Moors have had their fill,
you and I and the little foreign girl will all go back to the sheik. I

ll be a hero and you? You
will most likely be exiled,

he said, chuckling to himself.

Yasmeen was ready to run away when he clapped his hands
twice.

His two large muscled Moors appeared suddenly. They
immediately held her arms as she struggled and cursed his name. The Moors were
large African Muslim men who had been in the service of Fajer many years. They
had participated in his group sex acts before and, like Fajer, they enjoyed the
squirming and cries of the women they conquered.


You
disgusting shit!!!

she yelled. Yasmeen began kicking the Moors and tried to spit on them.


Cover
her mouth. I have no need of that soft orifice yet,

Fajer said. The Moors covered her mouth as
they had been instructed with a piece of cloth.

Fajer eyed her body and clapped once. The two large Moors
stripped her body naked, displaying her honey-colored body to their eyes. She
cursed them in Arabic as they appraised the naked, squirming woman. One large dark
Moor held her arm securely in his grasp while the other held her equally tight.
They looked exotic in their robes of red and blue, holding between them the
haughty, honey-colored naked woman.

Fajer came slowly to his feet. His body was large, and he was
not agile as in his younger days.


Oh
yes,

he purred as
he examined her naked body closely. She was the color of honey, with her
breasts dangling but not too saggy from suckling her two girl children. She had
a slim waist, spread hips, and long legs, with a snatch that held but a
sprinkling of hair. Fajer ran his hands over her body as if assessing a prize
mare. He cupped her breasts, roamed down her belly, and dipped his fingers into
her tight snatch.

Yasmeen cried out into the gag, but Fajer only laughed.


You
still have a tight pussy,

he observed, referring to her two pregnancies that he knew of from servant

s gossip.

Yasmeen struggled between the two black men, but they held
her tightly at their master

s
bidding.

Fajer picked up a small jar at his right and dipped his
fingers into it. A white creamy liquid covered his fingers. He smiled and
advanced upon Yasmeen. She tried to kick and squirm but she was no match for
the large black Moors.

Fajer nodded once and suddenly Yasmeen was thrown upon the
blankets and pillows face down. The sleeping foreign beauty was but a few feet
away as each Moor held Yasmeen

s
arm to the bed so that she could only move her legs and lower body. One black
man stuffed a pillow underneath her hips as Fajer advanced upon her. He settled
himself between her legs and smothered the cream into her ass cheeks and tight
asshole.


Ah,
I see the sheik has never initiated you into the finer art of anal sex. I will
be your first, Princess Yasmeen,

he said, smiling as she shook her head and cried aloud. The pillow and gag
smothered her words.


The
more you struggle, the more pain you will cause yourself,

he told her.

Fajer stripped himself naked. His large body was filled with
rolls of fat, sagging flesh, and too much hair. The two Moors looked on and
enjoyed the sight of the beautiful woman at this fat man

s beck and call. She would surrender,
because she had no choice.


Either
way, my cock will have its taste of you,

he told her. His hard cock was thrust forward; its purple bulbous head looked
angry and mean.

Yasmeen

s
ass wiggled in the air as she struggled, but it was no use.

Fajer used his hands to move Yasmeen

s ass onto the pillow, which popped her ass
into the air for a better angle and view. Her ass was slim and round. He enjoyed
her squirms and muffled cries.

Fajer had never been married and enjoyed sleeping with his
concubines, but he especially enjoyed raping and using women. He considered
them the weaker sex and hated women like Yasmeen who didn

t know or chose not to
abide by their rightful place. His cock was the equalizer that would show
Yasmeen who indeed was boss.


Squirm,
lovely princess. Fight me,

he taunted her. His hand whipped out and slapped Yasmeen against her ass,
coloring it red.

She shook her head and he chuckled. The Moors were growing
restless, both wanting a piece of the princess. Fajer

s liver-spotted hands cupped her breasts and
roamed down the length of her delicious body.

He settled himself between her spread thighs and his cock
was positioned between her ass cheeks.

Yasmeen cried into the pillow and struggled, but Fajer took
his cock in hand and pressed it into her ass. It slipped into the tight hole
and he sighed. She was as tight as a virgin on her wedding night. The sheik had
never fucked her there.


Yes,

he said hungrily. His
cock slipped in further and further, and Yasmeen tried to dislodge his fat
cock.

He suddenly held her lower hips in both hands and slammed
into her tight asshole. He began banging away into the tight virgin ass. His
hips slapped into her ass again and again as he forced his cock up into her.

Yasmeen was crying out into the pillow. He pulled back once
and then slid his meat back into her. She cried once more, but then he felt her
suddenly push back into him. She wanted his touch. Fajer nodded to the Moor on
her right. The Moor released her arm and untied her gag. He moved himself
beneath her head, and suddenly Yasmeen was suckling on the black Moor

s enormous cock.

Yasmeen filled her small mouth with the Moor

s huge cock and he fucked
her mouth. She moved her hand beneath her body to massage her clitoris as Fajer
fucked her ass.


Oh,
yes, yes. Harder, Lord Fajer. Harder,

she said, moaning into the man

s
cock as Fajer and the Moor stuffed her.

The second Moor released her arm, positioned himself
underneath her hips, and shoved his thick meat into her hungry pussy as Fajer
continued to fuck her ass. Her pussy constricted around the thick cock and she
cried aloud.

The three men began pumping her harder and harder. Fajer was
pulling her asshole wider and wider as his cock pumped into her while the Moor
in front of her was fucking her mouth. The other Moor was pushing his cock
deeper into her, as he split her open with his thick, dark meat.

Oh Allah, Allah
, Yasmeen moaned to herself as the
hands everywhere roamed her body and she became the sexual orifice for the men.
She was no longer a woman with a mind and spirit. She was the ultimate toy for
men to use to satisfy their appetites. She was a mere vehicle from which men
would be able to achieve their release. She existed for their sexual needs.

Fajer finished first, quickly climaxing inside her ass and
then pulling out. The Moor before Yasmeen came into her mouth and then onto her
face, spilling thick white cum on her while the Moor buried deep inside her
tight cunt climaxed inside her. The four people lay exhausted in a tight heap
of body parts and wet, sticky bodily fluids.

Katharine lay curled on her side, sleeping peacefully on the
pillows and blankets, completely undisturbed.

***

Mohammed threw the glass into the wall. The frustration at
his uselessness was driving him mad. It had only been two days, but already he
felt like time was running out. Who had done this monstrous thing and why? Had
Kat been kidnapped by ruffians wanting to exact their revenge on him? Was she
being held by men who wanted money for her return?

Or worse yet, had she been spotted or seen by someone whose
lust would never be sated until she lay underneath that man, struggling and
raped, over and over again? The thoughts drove him crazy. Where was she?
Suddenly outside the room he heard a knock. Bashasha was admitted into his
presence.


Forgive
me, my lord. But it has come to my attention that my lady Yasmeen is missing
also,

Bashasha told
him.


What?

Mohammed asked, turning
to the older woman.

***

Yasmeen and the others were fast asleep when Katharine
awoke. She felt disoriented and her head swam.
Where am I
? she wondered.
Then, she remembered. Yasmeen and her hired ruffians had kidnapped her. She
looked around and saw the two Moors, the fat man, and Yasmeen all naked and
sleeping soundly in a massive heap.
Disgusting
, she thought.

She was able to escape Yasmeen and the men by cutting the
ties that bound her wrists, but she had no idea how to make her way back to the
palace and Mohammed.

Chapter
8

Katharine

s
hand was bleeding. She had used a small spear that had been on one of the Moors
to free herself. In her excitement and haste to be away, though, she had also
sliced her right palm. She wrapped a purple scarf around her palm to stop the
bleeding.

She pushed back the flap of the tent and looked outside into
the desert. Her heart sank. It was pitch black for miles and all she saw were
the sand dunes that dominated the desert Rub' al Khali.

Katharine flung herself out into the night. She would rather
die in the desert than leave her fate to Yasmeen. She was in God

s hands now.

***

Bashasha had been summoned before the sheik.


Any
sign of Yasmeen?

Mohammed asked the older woman, his quiet voice belying his simmering anger.


No,
my lord. But she did disappear about the same time Lady Katharine went missing.
I can

t help but
think Yasmeen is involved in her disappearance,

Bashasha confessed.

Mohammed nodded.


I
agree. Have the riders discovered anything?

he asked about the men who had been sent across the desert to scout for
Katharine.

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