Arabian Nights Virtual World
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Arabian Nights Part Two free porn video
Michele remained tied to the chair, covered in semen, defiled and
confused. She isn't stupid; she knows that she has been kidnapped and is
being held as a sex slave and knows that there is going to be worse to
come. The door opens.
A voluptuous dark-skinned woman enters; her heels click-clacking on the
tiles. She is tall, at least six feet, she wearing a black chiffon tight
pencil skirt that emphasises her small waist and clings to her thighs, the
hem rests about six inches above her knees. He legs are clad in dark
shimmering hose, her feet in black patent-leather pumps. She is wearing a
green satin blouse open to the third button and her large firm breasts are
barely contained in the lace cups of her black satin brassier.
Her jet-black hair has been straitened and hangs to her shoulders, her eye
makeup and ruby red lipstick lips accentuate her blue eyes. Her gold
jewellery glitters in the lamplight. She is sneering; looking at Michele
with curiosity and contempt.
"You liked it didn't you?" she grins.
"They all say they don't; but I can tell if they do?" she saunters over
and stands directly in front of Michele.
Michele inhales her scent; her perfume is strong, exotic, almost cloying.
"Don't be so fucking stupid! I have never been so degraded in my life!"
Michele spat back.
Sarina slaps Michele across the cheek and she reels at the unexpected
force of the blow.
"If you didn't like it why can I do this?" Sarina grins and reaches out
and caresses Michele's thigh.
Her hand slides along Michele's thigh and she watches horrified as
Sarina's hand slides under her skirt, along her sleek stockinged thigh and
grips Michele's semi-tumescent penis.
Michele didn't realise that she was partially aroused; she is so shocked
at what the Arab man has done to her that she would never have believed
that her body could respond so incongruously. Michele feels Sarina's
fingers gently caress her penis through her satin panties and feels her
cock stiffen.
Sarina grins.
"Leave me alone!" Michele begs.
"Leave me alone!" Sarina mimics her.
She grips Michele's penis through the diaphanous panty material and
squeezes. Michele's cock hardens even more and pulses, a drop of pre-
seminal fluid escapes her glans and soaks into the gusset of her panties
and Sarina uses her thumb to gently massage the wet satin against
Michele's fraenulum.
Michele gasps and Sarina laughs out loud.
"You might look like a woman but you are as weak as any man. You can't
help but respond when I touch you there."
"It's just a response to stimulus; I can't help it," Michele blushes.
Hasn't she been humiliated enough for one day?
"Well let's see about that," Sarina grins.
She lifts Michele's semen stained skirt up her thighs exposing her creamy
thighs framed by the smoky silken welts of her stockings; Michele's cock
is hard, straining against the flimsy satin panties. She squeezes the
pulsating penis and lowers her face and forces her lips against Michele's.
Their lipstick lips crush against each other and Sarina forces her tongue
into Michele's mouth as she slowly squeezes and strokes the transvestite's
now tumescent organ.
"You fucking bitch!" Michele gasps into Sarina's sweet moist mouth and
kisses her back.
Michele can't hold back against the exquisite stimuli as Sarina strokes
and caresses her panty-clad cock. She ejaculates and floods her panties.
Hot semen erupts from her quivering member and soaks through the silky
satin material forming a huge blob of white sticky coagulate that Sarina
massages into the throbbing member; milking Michele of her spend. She
kisses the sexy transvestite harder and squeezes, milking the last drop of
Michele's seed from her pulsating organ.
Michele groans and writhes, straining against the bonds holding her into
the chair until she is sated and then falls back exhausted and spent.
Sarina disengages her fingers, sticky with Michele's emission.
"See, I knew you liked it!" she says, her voice hoarse with her own
desire.
"Now let's untie you and get you cleaned up. You have a lot to learn," she
says, wiping her sticky fingers on Michele's blouse.
"What the fuck is going on here?" Michele asks and is rewarded with a
stinging slap across the face.
"I talk! You listen!" Sarina scolds her.
"I thought you might have figured that out by now."
"There are some very specific rules here that I am going to explain to you
very shortly but the first and most important is SHUT THE FUCK UP unless
someone asks you for a response."
Sarina strides over to a cupboard recessed into the wall and opens it.
Michele stares horrified at the contents: ball-gags, restraints of all
kinds, collars, leads and menacingly arranged in order of thickness, half
a dozen canes and a riding crop.
"So far we have been gentle with you because you are new but that changes
now. Any further transgressions and you will find yourself being
disciplined with one of these," Sarina waves at the canes.
Sarina unties Michele who is immensely relieved to be free of her bonds.
Sarina takes one of the collars from the cupboard and secures it around
Michele's neck and fastens a leash to it.
"You will follow me. You will keep your eyes averted; look down at all
times. Most of all keep silence!" Sarina leads Michele to the door and
they start to walk down a dimly lit corridor.
Their heels click-clack on the tiles and although Michele keeps her eyes
averted as instructed she can tell they are passing several recessed doors
from behind two of which Michele can discern moans of pleasure from one
and the sobs of despair from the other. The corridor is not that long and
Michele estimates there are probably ten or twelve doors.
"Look up! This is your room; remember where it is," Sarina orders.
The door is dark wood; it looks heavy and thick. There is a modern
security lock set in the mortice that Sarina unlocks with what appears to
be very high-grade passkey. Sarina then scans a security card against a
card reader set into the wall and the door clicks. Sarina opens it and
leads Michele inside.
Sarina leads Michele through the room and all Michele can make out is a
large bed, a large wardrobe and vanity table and chair. A few floor lamps
shed dull light onto what are obviously expensive rugs thrown here and
there over the grey slate tiles.
She is led to the bathroom and it looks like something out of a five-star
hotel; all sparkling white and black marble with gold fittings. There is a
bath big enough for two, a glass shower stall with two shower roses, a
toilet, a bidet and a long marble bench with two sinks. Every toiletry one
can imagine is provided. Michele can't help thinking that if she has to be
held prisoner that this is far better accommodation than any captive would
normally expect.
"Strip," Sarina orders and unclasps the leash from Michele's collar.
Michele shucks out of her skirt, blouse, lingerie and hose. She holds onto
the counter to take off her heels.
"Put the jewellery here," Sarina holds out an ornate box in which Michele
deposits the obviously expensive items.
"You can take off the wig while you bathe but the second rule you need to
learn is that Michael Nyland is gone forever from this place. While you
are here you are Michele and only Michele. You will dress like Michele,
talk like Michele, walk like Michele and behave only like Michele!"
"You may only take off your wig and makeup to bathe. We might see what we
can do with your own hair when it grows out, but for now there is a
selection of wigs for you in the chifforobe."
"Do you understand? You will answer yes Mistress. From now on I am always
to be addressed as Mistress and any man in your company is to be addressed
as Master."
"Yes Mistress. But if you intend to style my hair when it grows long, how
long am I to be kept here?" Michele asks dreading the answer.
"Impertinent bitch!" Sarina raises her hand and Michele flinches.
"But a fair enough question," she smiles wickedly.
"Until they are finished with you, until you bore them, until you are of
no further use!" she laughs.
Sarina whips off Michele's wig and unbuckles the collar. Michele is naked
except for her makeup and the ruby-red false fingernails.
"Go! Scrub yourself clean! Remove all that makeup too, I will help you
prepare yourself once you have bathed," Sarina spins on her heels and
strides out of the bathroom leaving Michele alone.
Michele breaks down in the shower; she sobs uncontrollably until she can
cry no more. Then, as she scrubs the makeup from her face, she makes a
pact with herself. Whatever happens to her, whatever they do to her, she
will not break. She will not cry again. She will learn as much as she can
about this place whilst obeying every 'rule' they impose on her. Then she
will seek her revenge.
She finds a silk robe hanging on the back of the bathroom door and slips
into it. It feels very sensual on her bare skin. She has obviously been
professionally shaved whilst she was unconscious because except for her
eyebrows, which have been plucked and shaped, and her scalp, her body is
hairless. She slides her feet into a pair of sandals and notices that her
toenails have also been expertly painted. She assumes that it was Sarina
who prepared her for Saheed whilst she was unconscious.
Michele finds Sarina sitting in an over-stuffed lounge chair smoking a
cigarette and talking on an ornate telephone, an opened bottle of
expensive French chablis is on the side table and two glasses have been
poured. One of the glasses is half-drunk, Sarina's red lipstick evident on
the rim. Sarina points offhandedly to the full glass and indicates to
Michele that it is hers.
"Don't worry; there is no longer any need to spike your drinks darling,"
she smiles sarcastically then carries on with her conversation.
"Yes Jamhal, she will be ready. No Jamhal, Saheed did not penetrate her,
she is still a virgin. You know I wouldn't let him do anything so foolish.
The Cabal will get their 'jus primae noctis' as promised," Sarina
continues talking as if Michele is not in the room.
Michele picks up the wine and sips it cautiously but it tastes fine. It
tastes wonderful in fact. Michele has picked up enough from Sarina's
conversation to guess what is going to happen to her. She is technically a
virgin she supposes, in that no penis has ever penetrated her and she
knows exactly what 'jus primae noctis' means and it does not bode well.
Sarina finishes her conversation and turns her attention to Michele.
"Sit and I will tell you why you are here. It will save me having to
answer your unending questions. You may smoke in your room as long unless
you are entertaining. We have your brand."
Sarina points to a pack of Marlborough Menthol Lights on the table and
Michele lights up and sits across from Sarina sipping wine and smoking.
She is very conscious of how absurd the situation is. She is in a
voluptuous apartment wearing a silk robe, drinking expensive French wine
and smoking cigarettes, sitting across from an extremely attractive
Negress who is about to tell her why she has been kidnapped and taken
against her will by a group of Arabs.
Sarina tells Michele about the Cabal. Not everything of course but enough
to let her know that she is in the clutches of an extremely wealthy group
of men, being held in a country where they can do as they wish and that
there is no chance of escape for her.
"You are not the only shall we say guest, I hate the word captive, here.
But you are the only mukhannath," she finishes her explanation.
"Mukhannath?" Michele asks.
"Transvestite," Sarina replies.
"You have been selected because you are an extremely attractive
mukhannath, because you are unsullied, and also because your disappearance
will go largely unnoticed. You are estranged from your family and everyone
else who knows you knows that you have gone to the Middle East to work.
You have few friends to miss you. You are in fact ideal for their
purposes."
"Everything you say is true Mistress but surely the captives must complain
when they are released?" Michele enquires.
"Some grow to like their work. Most grow to like the money. And none know
where they have been held captive and they find it hard to explain to the
authorities why they are healthy why have amassed large amounts of cash
and property during their so-called disappearance," Sarina explained.
"And you Mistress?"
"Oh me Michele? I quickly came to realise that not only do I like the work
and the wealth but that I also like the power. That's why I am in charge
of you shermutaun. You whores," she smiles.
"Enough now! Let me show you around your apartment and then we need to
prepare you for your debut."
Michele is amazed at how well appointed her 'apartment' (she notices the
word cell is never used) is. A king sized bed, expensive furniture, a well
stocked bar including a fridge and wine conditioner, a chifforobe (as
Sarina refers to it - betraying her Southern American roots) full of
clothes, lingerie and shoes. A large vanity table with every cosmetic
imaginable including expensive perfumes. A selection of wigs of every
colour and style are mounted on wig-stands in the chifforobe. Nothing has
been spared and nothing is cheap.
"Under the bench in the bathroom is a washer and dryer. You are
responsible for your own laundry except for items requiring dry-cleaning
which you are to place in that hamper," Sarina points it out.
"You will find that your lingerie and hosiery will require replacing quite
frequently, just let the maids know what you need," Sarina smiles, amused
by Michele's puzzled look.
"Now, shave your face closely, brush your teeth, gargle with mouthwash and
return to the vanity so I can watch you prepare. I have seen your Flickr
profile so I know you are adept at makeup but tonight you must be
prefect."
Michele returns freshly shaven and sits at the vanity. Sarina nods
approvingly after she runs her fingers over Michele's face to ensure there
is no hint of stubble. Michele's glass has been refilled and she takes
cautious sips; she lights a cigarette but Sarina stubs it out.
"Some of the men don't like smoking and your breath needs to be sweet and
clean," she explains.
Michele takes time applying foundation; she has selected a foundation that
closely matches her skin colour and covers up the few blemishes that mark
her face and liberally coats her face and neck with matching finishing
powder. Michele now has the blank canvas on which to apply the rest of her
cosmetics.
Michele applies jet-black kohl next, from the inner corner of her eyes to
the outer corners, gradually thickening the line. When she has a thick,
even, black line running along the edge of her eyelashes she reaches for
the eyeshadow.
She selects indigo blue, which she applies to her eyelids and blends it
with a shade of dark grey, which she brushes onto the upper part of her
eye sockets.
"That's good; they like their women to wear bold coloured makeup," Sarina
remarks.
Michele applies black mascara to her lashes. Although she is being held
captive she finds that the concentration required to get her makeup
perfect distracts her from her fate. She rouges her cheeks, defining her
cheekbones.
"Here use this; it will set and highlight your makeup," Sarina hands her a
jar of 'Skin-Glow' finishing powder.
When Michele applies it and is impressed with the subtle radiance it gives
her face.
Michele is pleased to see they have her favourite Covergirl 'Outlast'
lipstick in 'ever red-dy', which is the bright red colour she prefers. She
applies the base coat carefully just outside of her lip-line so that her
lips appear fuller. She leaves it to dry then bites down on a tissue to
soak up any residue, then she applies the clear topcoat.
"My god you are better at this than most women," Sarina laughs and sips
her wine.
"Here, they like this," Sarina offers her a bottle of 'Poison' perfume.
Michele sprays herself liberally with the scent and looks up to find
Sarina holding up a shoulder-length, black bob wig with cerulean
highlights. Michele takes it from her and brushes it to improve the sheen
of the hair. Sarina stands behind her and helps Michele position the wig
on her head and adjust it so that the fringe is straight and level with
her eyebrows.
"Ok. Now we select your clothes," Sarina says.
"The Cabal debated hotly as to how you are to present yourself. Would you
believe one of them even wanted you dressed in a stupid 'I Dream of
Jeannie' outfit, but after studying the pictures Jamhal presented a
consensus was reached."
"You are to dress like a businesswoman. Some of them see the irony that a
businessman got on the plane to Dubai but a businesswoman will arrive in
their midst," Sarina is smiling sarcastically herself.
Michele stands up and steps into a black satin and lace suspender belt
that is fitted with three garter straps on each leg and then Sarina
assists her into a matching brassiere.
"Breastforms Mistress?" Michele inquires.
"No they will want to play with your tits, small as they are," she grins
wickedly and Michele shivers with disgust.
Michele sits back down in front of the vanity and slips a pair of taupe
nylon stockings up her legs. She stands so Sarina can adjust the dark
back-seams so they are straight while Michele fixes the dark welts of the
stocking-tops to her suspender straps. Michele runs her hands up and down
her legs to remove any wrinkles and can't help enjoying the sensuous feel
of the nylon on her freshly shaved legs.
Sarina hands her a pair of black satin full-cut panties and helps Michele
slide them up her legs and smooths them around her buttocks and over the
suspender belt. She reaches round and strokes Michele's flaccid penis and
it begins to engorge.
Then she cruelly squeezes Michele's scrotum and she yelps in pain.
"Don't get hard. You probably will when they fuck you but not now," she
orders.
"Unlikely Madame," Michele responds.
"We'll see. Some of the little strumpets around here screamed with pain
when they were first taken that way and now they beg for their Master to
put it in their tight little poopies," she says scornfully.
Michele looks disgustedly at Sarina who just shrugs.
"I don't mind it up the shitter now and then either but I have been told
that men have a special place up there that drives them wild with desire;
like a woman's G-spot."
Michele tries to think of anything but sodomy by concentrating on
dressing.
She steps into a black satin half-slip. The lace hem flutters against her
stocking tops. She pours another glass of wine and sucks at it greedily
trying to erase the images in her mind of what is about to befall her.
"Enough wine! We don't want you sozzled when you make your debut," Sarina
demands.
Sarina has returned from the chifforobe and holds up a navy blue women's
business suit and then lays it out on the bed and beckons Michele over.
Michele steps into the skirt and admires it. It fits her perfectly; taut
at the waist and tightly moulded to her thighs. Without the kick pleat at
the rear she wouldn't be able to walk in it but it looks both professional
and sexy, the hem rests mid-thigh.
Next she buttons herself into a mauve, long-sleeved, satin blouse and
tucks it into the waistband of her skirt and closes the zipper. She
adjusts the waistband and hem of her skirt, ensuring the hem of her slip
is covered. The skirt is tight around her buttocks and thighs and the hem
sits high up on her legs.
Sarina struts over to the chifforobe and selects a pair of black high-
heeled pumps and kneels down in front of Michele who is seated back at the
vanity and helps her put them on.
Michele thinks momentarily of how easy it would be to kick Sarina in the
head or spike her with her heel but what good would it do? Even if she got
out of the cell she wouldn't know where to go or what to do next.
Sarina opens a jewellery box and mooches through the collection. She slips
a gold anklet on Michele's right ankle and adjusts it so that it sits just
above her anklebone. She slips on a pair of gold drop earrings; Michele
has both ears pierced so no need for clip-ons. Sarina places two gold
bangles on each of Michele's wrists and a matching gold chain necklace
around her neck.
"Stand! Look!" she commands.
Michele looks at herself in the full-length mirror fitted to one of the
chifforobe doors.
Even she has to admit that she looks magnificent; femme, attractive, and
most of all, sexy.
Sarina has retrieved the collar and leash while Michele was admiring
herself in the mirror and Michele obligingly lowers her head and allows
Sarina to affix them to her neck. Sarina picks up the phone and dials.
"She is ready," she says and hangs up.
Michele is led down the dim corridor by Sarina, the only sound now the
click clack of their high-heels. Michele is shivering with dread at what
lies ahead of her.
To be continued.
Jo
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