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When Nicola woke the following morning she was startled to realise that the Emir had tied her hands to the bed post.
“Don’t be afraid. I promised I wouldn’t hurt you, didn’t I?”
Nicola nodded uneasily. At the same time, however, there was something reassuring in his voice and besides, he had kept his word about not hurting her the previous night. She felt a tingling of excitement run through her body. It made her wonder what the Emir was up to. It wasn’t long before she found out as the Emir began to probe her vagina gently with his finger.
She couldn’t help moaning as he slowly pushed in and out. Her whole body began to react to this pleasurable experience and she thought she was going to have an orgasm. However the sensation ended as the Emir abruptly withdrew his finger.
For a moment Nicola thought she was going to be disappointed until the Emir suddenly mounted her in a gentle fashion and then inserted his prick deep inside her. His movements, slow at first, accelerated with each stroke. Nicola’s body reacted excitedly and soon they settled into a mutually satisfying rhythm
Her wonderful orgasm was accompanied by an explosion of the Emir’s cum inside her, leaving Nicola both breathless and exhausted.
“There are some things you must realise,” he said, “You would not be anything special, so you must accept that if you want to stay. I have many women and am in no way especially committed to you, except that I own you and will support you in the style you have seen in the harem. You won’t have the guest suite for many days – after that you either go back to England or into the harem. In the harem you will dress like the others, live like the others, and behave like the others, especially in matters of etiquette. For example, you need to address me as Master, and you will have to learn to perform obeisance; your parody of a curtsey isn’t enough.”
“Wales,” she murmured, “We lived in Wales, not England.”
“Past tense?” he queried.
“Past tense, for me anyway. I can’t speak for my mother.”
“You may still change your mind for the moment, but the time will come when not choosing to leave will mean that you have lost the right to choose,” he advised.
Remembering one of the new rules, she said, “Thank you, Master. When will that be? I mean, how long have I got to make my mind up?”
“No particular time limit. I’ll let you know when you no longer have a choice,” he replied, thinking, ‘Until you are pregnant. After that you are mine for ever, whatever you may want.’
“Master?”
“Yes,” he sighed.
“What about my rights? Do women have any rights here?”
“Women are treated exactly the same as men in Kobekistani law. They have exactly the same status and privileges as their men folk,” he said, and as he expected this was misinterpreted, since he owned all the men as well as all the women, “Now wait here. I have to see someone, but I’ll be back in an hour or so. Have some breakfast, and think about what we’re going to do when I come back.”
As soon as the Emir had left the room a heated trolley was wheeled in with every possible element of a full Welsh breakfast, and suddenly Nicola realised how hungry she was. As she ate she felt her body moistening as her thoughts anticipated more ... whatever ... on the bed.
The Emir was not in the best of moods, despite a reasonably enjoyable night with his daughter’s friend, and the prospect of another session with her after his meeting. It was the meeting itself which was annoying him. That was mostly because it was with the U.S. Ambassador Sharon Klein, whom he expected to push yet again for “more trade”, by which she meant opening the country up to American multinationals like McDonald’s and Coca-Cola. The mere fact that the U.S. President in her wisdom had appointed a woman ambassador was insensitive enough, but to try to push junk food and drink on his country was just too bad.
“Your Magnificence,” the Ambassador started, “Why have your guards prevented my advisors from coming in to the meeting?”
“Mr. Ambassador,” he said, addressing her as he always did on bad days, and watching her wince slightly, “Your advisors are not needed today. Today I will tell you exactly what is going to happen to trade between Kobekistan and the U.S.A., and you are going to listen. In any case, your so called advisors are simply your Secret Service bodyguards. Do you really think there is the slightest danger that I will assassinate the Ambassador of the U.S.A.? Or that your bodyguards could protect you if I wanted you eliminated in my own palace?”
He looked at her for an answer, and she dropped her eyes in tacit admission that this was silly.
“First, there will be no opening of our borders to any business which does not conform to our Food and Health Laws. That means, among other things, no Coke, no Pepsi, no Big Macs and no Snickers. Those are all banned as not conducive to good child health. Does the U.S.A. have an obesity problem with its young people? Of course it does. We don’t, and we are not going to start now.”
The Ambassador drew breath and was about to say something when he held up his hand.
“For the record, the Emir stopped the Ambassador from speaking,” he remarked.
“For what record?” she asked.
“The one you are making, so be quiet and just play it back to whoever is pulling your strings after we have finished.”
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