Daughter s DelightsChapter 45 Return To Kobekistan
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Promptly at four the following day a Rolls-Royce arrived to take Robinson to the airport. He had had to be firm with his wife and had simply told her that this was a second interview and that he was minded to take the job if it could be arranged. When she protested he remembered the Emir's words, "The whip is our standard form of punishment for slaves, and is available to correct recalcitrant concubines, or even wives." He might avail himself of that, or at least a slipper, if she proved tiresome when she was in Kobekistan.
At Heathrow he was surprised to be ushered on to the aircraft with a minimum of fuss and formalities. On board he had an excellent seat in the First Class cabin and, it appeared, a stewardess all to himself. There were few passengers in the First class, and all were men, mostly of Arab appearance. It was while the champagne was being served that he noticed one of the other passengers was fondling the stewardess's arse as she bent over him. When his stewardess brought him a glass of water, as he had requested, he 'accidentally' let the back of his hand brush against her uniform. Her reaction was interesting; she froze and pressed her breast firmly against the back of his hand, smiling at him as she did so.
Then she whispered to him, "Would the Master prefer privacy?"
He nodded and she drew some curtains round his seat, making a small private cabin just for him. Then she took his hand and smiled as she placed it on her breast.
"What else is on the menu?" he asked.
"Whatever the Master pleases," she said, "Perhaps the Master will wish to lie down during the flight?"
"Do all the passengers get this kind of service?" he asked.
"No, Master; only those flying as guests of the Emir, may he live for ever."
"I think some rest during the night would be nice."
"I will prepare a cabin for the Master," the girl said and withdrew.
Robinson did some quick calculations and decided that sleep was a good idea. It would be four in the morning London time when he arrived in Kobekistan but there it would already be eight o'clock. Yes, definitely some rest.
A few minutes later the stewardess returned and escorted him to a beautifully furnished sleeping cabin. It was small but there would be plenty of room to undress. There was a double bed and a small table had been let down from the wall. The stewardess slipped off her uniform dress and was naked beneath it. As she took his hand again and used it to stroke her ample breast, Robinson thought this might be an enjoyable flight.
"Would the Master wish to eat before retiring?" she asked.
"Yes, a meal would be nice," he said, more out of curiosity than hunger.
The stewardess lifted the intercom and said something in Arabic, then lay on the bed. Robinson sat beside her and experimentally stroked one breast and let his hand run down over her belly to her completely hairless mons. Her legs parted obligingly to give him freer access to her cunt. He had three fingers inside her when another stewardess brought in a tray.
Neither of the girls seemed in the least embarrassed by the situation and the new girl said, "Here is the Master's dinner. What wine would the Master wish to enjoy with it?"
Turning from the nude on the bed, Robinson discovered that the main course was a fillet steak, so he said, "Something red and quite heavy, please. Perhaps a Dão or a Barolo?"
The girl nodded and left, returning moments later with three bottles of wine, a Premier Cru Chateau Neuf du Pape as well as the Portuguese and Italian wines he had mentioned. Robinson decided that the Barolo would do very well and that was what was opened.
As he sat eating, the woman rose from the bed and knelt before him, insinuating herself between his legs. Then he felt his zipper being lowered and a warm mouth engulfed his manhood.
'I could get used to this, ' he thought, 'Good food and wine and a blow job while I'm eating.'
The woman was clearly highly skilled, for during the meal she gave him much pleasure with her mouth without ever bringing him too close to an orgasm. When he had finished eating, she rang a bell and the table was cleared and raised out of the way, apparently without the second stewardess noticing that the passenger was being fellated by her colleague.
As he descended the steps a few minutes after the aircraft landed, there was a Rolls-Royce waiting on the tarmac and he wonder who the VIP was who rated that sort of treatment. Then he noticed his own luggage being put into its boot. At the Golden Palace he was greeted by a corpulent negro who clearly came from one of the African states.
In an oddly squeaky voice for such a large man he said, "I am the Chief Eunuch to His Magnificence, the Emir Mahmoud Abdullah, may he live for ever, and I confess I am at a loss as to how to address you. You are my equal in status and so I should not call you Master, yet you are a white man and a whole man."
"I believe the correct form of address is to call me Robinson, as the Emir will," replied Robinson equally gravely.
"If that is acceptable to you?" said the eunuch.
"It is proper," said the butler, "and so it is required."
"Excellent. I am so glad that you are a stickler for etiquette. I am addressed as Chief Eunuch. So many of the younger eunuchs do not think such things matter. As for the Princess Alima..." he rolled his eyes towards heaven.
"She is... ?" asked Robinson.
"She is one of the two wives of the Emir. She and her mother married the Emir some five years ago and she is now twenty-two and has borne him two sons, but she is very western in her ways. They are English, so I suppose it is inevitable, but the grandfather is an Earl and one might have hoped..." his voice tailed off as he realised that he was rambling a little, "You will want to see your quarters. Did you have a good journey?"
"Excellent, thank you. It would be nice to have a quick shower before doing anything else."
Conducted by the Chief Eunuch along corridors which were decorated with tiles and mosaics in typically Arab geometric designs, he was led into a suite of rooms which were much more ornate than anything he had imagined. The master bedroom also had mosaics on the wall, but these were of very explicit sexual and punishment scenes. Two life-size statues or waxworks of men were in the suite, and Robinson wondered why.
In the third of the bedrooms a woman stood, wearing a silk dressing gown which did little to conceal her breasts and nothing to conceal her belly and cunt. It was only buttoned at the neck. As they entered the room, she dropped to the floor and pressed her forehead to the carpet, remaining there until the Chief Eunuch casually touched her with one foot.
"This is one of the four concubines the Emir has placed here for your pleasure," explained the Chief Eunuch, "But if I were you I would try them out before accepting any of them. Others are always available should any of them not meet with your approval. It might be politic to reject one, or perhaps two, of them; that way it is clear that you have your own ideas, but that you are grateful for the offer."
Robinson did not know what to say to that and therefore, in his usual way, said nothing.
"If any of them displease you they can be whipped, of course. You can do that yourself, or one of the eunuchs will do it for you."
One of the waxworks suddenly came to life and handed a whip to the butler. At that he realised that there were no statues; these were servants who had been trained to perfection. Robinson sighed a little as he thought of how hard it was to train serving staff to be silent and immobile, yet to be alert to the requirements of the people they were serving. His spirits rose at the thought of working with waiters and footmen who were this good. His prick also rose at the thought of wielding the whip in his hand on the woman before him.
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