Harem
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Prisoner In His Harem Ch. 03 free porn video
In part 1 and 2 of this story we come to know Sheikh Fouad who rules a traditional 1001 nights meet Silicon Valley Emirate between the sea and the desert. He discovers a bombplot against his children and those of other dignitaries. The bomb is handed to the assassin by a Western woman who teaches at the local university and is known for her fierce equal rights attitude. Instead of giving her the required death sentence he offers her an alternative as a slave in his harem.
*****
The Sheikh walked into his harem leaving his armyboots at the gate. It had been a long drive back from the military manoeuvres in the desert but he had longed to sleep again in his own bed again. Now his back was killing him. His skin, hair and cloths were caked in a mix of dried up sweat and sand. Oh hell a long bath would be such simple pleasure.
The lights were dimmed in his harem. Everybody would be fast asleep by now apart from some guarding eunuch. Walking to the baths he stripped himself of his shirt till the only thing left on his tired body was the uniform trousers. That long drive home had mangled his muscles. He felt stiff and sore all over. But it had been good to train with his men again. To know his small country was able to defend itself.
He walked into the bathing area and towards the washing pool when suddenly he realised there was someone sitting on the submerged bench along the site enjoying a bath. Her copper curls were spread out over the tiles. Her eyes closed. Her face sad. The woman he had named Rosebud.
The woman from the North he had forced into his harem 6 weeks ago. With a pang he remembered how it had felt when that night he had claimed the ownership of her body. Her sobbing and moaning impaled by his shaft in her most private spot. Knowing that whatever way she had been involved with in the bomb-plot the only thing she could do now was give him pleasure and bear his children and never to teach human rights in university again.
Afterwards he had only seen glimpses of her as Idriss, his trusted master of the harem and called the head eunuch while he was in fact the Sheikh’s gay childhood friend and confidante, had put her in a training program to learn her the ways of the harem and to better please her lord and master. Idriss had dutifully reported how she zealously had studied the etiquette, the positions in lovemaking, the local language by even questioning his other harem ladies who had enjoyed showing off to a Westerner how well they mastered the art of pleasing a man. This academic woman seemed to view this whole thing as a project she should master with distinction. He had to admit he had be pleased with her determination.
His old friend Idriss and him had laughed themselves to tears when she had gone to Idriss to ask if he could buy her Thaiballs to train the muscles in her channel so she would be better in pleasing the Sheikh and hopefully be better in opening up to his big member. Idriss who ruled all the 30 Arab women and all the eunuchs in his master’s harem had stood flabbergasted not knowing what she meant and had gone to his master to ask what the hell this foreign woman was talking about.
So without her knowing the Sheikh had ordered her some of those virgintrainers from the Far East via the internet and had sit holding the heavy balls in his hand before giving them to Idriss to hand over to Rosebud. Thinking of her slick channel she would put them in and how he would test her later. Grinning to himself how purple she would turn if she knew it was in fact him handing them to her.
Hearing him approach she jumped to her feet and upon seeing him bowed deep down from her waist with her hands pressed together in front of her breasts. Exactly like Idriss had trained her to be the submissive woman.
Oh my how well had Idriss moulded her into a goddess of the harem. Her long hair red and curly on her head but ending with tips dark brown and straight from the wetness of her bathing, sticking to her shoulders, arms and breasts, water dripping down her belly. Her pink nipples pierced with jewellery like her ears now and her bellybutton, a necklace resting between her large white breasts. Her body shaped by the relentless exercises Idriss had put her through.
‘What are you doing here in the middle of the night?’ he barked towards the submissive bowing woman.
‘I could not sleep and thought a bath might help, my lord,’ she said still with her head down. ‘We had not expected you before noon tomorrow lord.’
‘I longed for my own home,’ he surprised himself by answering.
Then as in trying to gain courage she looked up with those big blue eyes and said: ‘Do you want me to leave or would it please my lord if I bathed him?’
In like two steps he was with her in the bath yanking her towards his chest. Her boobs flattened against his belly-muscles and he could feel her nipples against his own skin. ‘That bath sounds fine|indeed.’
She placed her arms around his neck and said ‘My lord indeed needs a bath. He feels like he is coated with sandpaper.’
He grinned and held her even more close against him whispering in her neck ‘Do I hurt those nipples of yours?’ before bowing down and kissing her.
Her hands stroked his hair. ‘But I cannot reach your hair well enough to wash you like this lord. Better come with me to where I was sitting.’
He let her walk him to the bench and she bent down and removed his trousers completely ignoring that part of him that was happy to renew his acquaintance with her. Then sat on the bench herself and told him he best would sit on the floor of the pool between her legs.
She started washing his hair and he enjoyed her soft movements on his scalp. Reaching for the shampoo she had placed there on the edge for her own hair. He smiled as the smell of flowers engulfed him. His ministers would wonder why he had choosing this shampoo he smiled silently to himself.
Her hands moved to his torso and she sponged soap all over his chest, his arms and even his hands. Massaging his fingers with hers. He marvelled at the whiteness of her skin against his own suntanned bronze.
He felt his head resting on her chest and realised how tired he was. He could feel her heart beating and her breath stroked his face. She felt good.
She bent him a bit forward and started to wash his back and his shoulders removing all the sweat and dirt in small circling movements.
Then started to massage his sore shoulders muscles. Moving to his chest so his head again rested between two breasts.
‘Lord please stand so I can wash your lower half, ‘ she said nudging him to move.
‘Puppet I am to tired. That part can soak itself clean. Just let me sit like this for awhile.’
He realised she was laughing when she said ‘Lady Azziza will kill you my lord when she sees you brought half the desert into her holy bath. You left a trail of sand.’
He smiled too and said ‘I will just tell her who build her holy bathroom.’ and then felt his eyelids drop and his last concious thought was how good it was between Rosebud’s thighs and breasts even when it was sitting up in a bath instead of …
-.-
Rosebud looked at the man sleeping in her arms. Compared to her he was a giant. His dark eyelashes laid like shadows on his cheeks that were covered with a day’s stubble. The long Roman nose. The full lips. His body relaxed in sleep. His long legs stretched. She softly stroked his drying hair. Curling already at the edges.
In his sleep he was like a big teddybear to hold in her arms. A beautiful man to caress. But awake he ruled them all. And she could vividly remember his anger and the hurt of being taken by sheer force.
She just sat silently holding on to him as if he was a big baby. What was she supposed to do? At first she thought he would wake up again as it could not be too comfortable sitting on a tiled floor of a pool but instead he seemed to be fast asleep.
Her own muscles started to ache and she realised he would be stiff as a flag-post when he would wake up in the morning after he had been asleep like this all night. Her shoulders started to get cold with the air coming from the windows getting colder in the dark hours of the night. Still she did not dare to move.
Then suddenly she heard soft steps approaching and looked up to see Idriss looking down on her. ‘Idriss,’ she said in relief.
‘They told me the master was home and I could not find him,’ said the giant black man looking down on their master sleeping in her arms.
‘I don’t know what to do Idriss. If he spends all night like this he will feel rotten in the morning. But I did not dare to wake him up.’
Idriss bent down and said ‘Lord! Sheikh Fouad! Wake up!’
His friend and the ruler of the realm looked up groggy and said hoarse ‘Idriss’ and then smiled broadly.
‘Come lord. Let me dry you off. You will feel rotten after a night sleeping like this. Just let Rosebud take you to your bed,’ and he picked up the towel Rosebud had placed on the edge for her own use and started to towelling off the Sheikh as soon as he had risen from the bath.
She felt her lower lip tremble and nervousness kicking in. ‘Just take Rosebud to your bed.’ That area was used for other activities then washing a beautiful man.
The Sheikh looked round to where she still was sitting and motioned her towards him grabbing the towel from Idriss and ordering him to get another dry one as her hair would be very wet. He started to dry her off in tender motions and she felt Idriss rubbing her long hair dry. It was a weird sensation standing completely naked between two giant men who had their hands all over her body.
Almost dry Idriss told her to stand still and started to brush her wet curls. Her hair laying damp and combed over her bare back. Her arms covered in goosebumps.
The Sheikh held out his hand and said to her ‘Well Rosebud if you still know where to locate my bedroom do take me there as Idriss commanded.’
She walked him out of the baths, through the long archway connecting the harem with his chambers. The moonlight making the garden look black. The fountain tinkling softly.
She opened the door to his bedroom still holding his strong hand in hers. Silently they walked to the bed. She let go of his hand and turned the covers telling him the bed was ready for him.
He got himself in and then looked at her. ‘Come here,’ he said. She stepped towards the bed and hesitated. He just lifted her up and onto the sheet next to him and into his embrace. He folded the covers around the both of them and then just hugged her close and fell asleep again. She laid there for awhile feeling his strong arms and torso all around her but then his regular slow breathing and the warmth of his body made her very sleepy. Just before falling asleep she realised that for the first time in many weeks she felt safe and not so utterly alone.
It seemed like no time had passed when she woke up by the call to prayers announcing daybreak. She was alone in the big bed. It felt suddenly very empty without his sleeping body all around her.
Then she heard his footsteps in the bathroom and he came walking towards her. His body moved like a predator she thought. The semi darkness still revealing his piercing glance. She started to feel afraid again. He bowed down over her and said ‘We only have a short time puppet. A day of judgement is ahead.’ and placed both his hand around her face to kiss her. She felt peppermint on his breath and aftershave on his smooth cheeks. His moustache tickling her lip. She realised he had washed and prepared for the day letting her sleep.
He lifted the cover to get back into bed and moved himself looming over her kissing her again and again looking into her eyes in the intervals. Suddenly she wanted to please this dominant man. To see him appreciate her. To know she would pleasure him. To hear him say she had been a good girl.
She moved her legs so he could easily enter her. His member already a battle-ram at her gate. He stopped his overtures and ran a hand down along her body finding her slit and her button. Stroking her there.
‘You are already so wet’ she heard him say with his mouth around her nipple.
‘Please my lord. I have been a good girl and tried to master all the harem arts for you,’ she heard herself beg to her astonishment. Rubbing herself against him body.
He held her in his arms and slowly moved himself into her wet folds. She felt his hardness again fill her up. The familiar fullness but without the pain. Her eyes looking in his face for a signal she was doing it right. He just looked still very commanding and intimidating and fully awake.
He moved in her and she found a way to keep in sync with his trusts. Rejoicing in his body all around and in her. Holding onto his shoulders with both arms. Her legs crossing below his buttocks.
He kissed the valley between her breasts and said ‘You are so beautiful puppet’. She surrendered herself to him.
-.-
He looked into her big blue eyes and parted lips and smiled. She was so good to have in his arms. That reserved Northerner was making now the most lovely kitten mews while he was trashing her body. He felt the muscles in her belly and in her upper legs twitch and jerk like waves under her skin. Her breasts slapping around in the rhythm of him pounding her pussy. The bells in her nipples tingling. Her mouth gaping for air. It felt like his shaft was in a slick wet glove that seemed to get wetter and wetter. And her contracting muscles made him forget about going slow and her being very new at this and very tight. Her moans in his rhythm. The rougher skin of her g-spot, the entrance of her womb, his balls smacking against her bottom. It just made him want to be deeper and deeper in her. He felt her rise under him, arching her back, shivering and gripping his clock with her muscles milking him to breed her. He lifted her ass in the air and felt his balls exploding pumping his seamen out into her womb. Wave upon wave. He kept sitting on his knees breathing hard holding her up in the air with his hands under her hips even after the last shot had erupted in her. Looking at the panting, sweatcovered woman in his arms. His skin dark against her creamy one. Her curls all over his pillow. Knowing that holding her like this she had the highest chance to get pregnant. To be his totally.
-.-
He had pulled her in his lap while she was still trying to catch her breath and her heart-rate to slow down. ‘Did I please you my lord?’ she asked but he had just bowed down to kiss her. ‘Sir?’ She longed to to hear him say she had done well and made him glad but he had just put her on her feet.
‘Go’ he said ‘Get yourself to Azziza and let yourself be washed, fed and pampered as I have to go and work. Let her dress you formally in a long dress and a headveil and a faceveil covering you totally and then let Idriss escort you to the Gallery of the Queens. I know you spend many hours there looking at me rule the country and judge people. Late in the morning there is a case you certainly want to see’ and then had padded her on her bum sending her off.
Azziza had indeed washed her, rubbed ointment on sore places, massaged her lower back and then gave her hot tea and strawberries with creamy yoghurt. And held the crying woman who was longing to hear her lord tell her he cared. After that she had dressed her in a long gown of very light yellow that had a rosebud pattern just like her blouse had, making her realise this had been made for her in advance. She combed her hair back under a kind of crown placing a long veil under it that flowed down over her shoulders and her back covering most of her figure. Her face had been covered by another one that reached her belly. In the mirror the only part of herself visible where her eyebrows and eyes, her hands and her slippered feet.
She st
ood in the gallery looking through the mesharabe, the beautifully carved wooden grating, what made her able to look in the throne-room but none of the people there would see her in the shadows behind the panelling. Before her master bowed a man of about 35. Next to him stood in man in uniform reporting on the crimes the man had done. In the crowd African looking women wailed.
She more or less felt Idriss walking towards her. He held out a phone and showed her the textmessages. It started in Arabic and the only thing she understood of that was her name. Under it a message to her was written.
‘Rosebud you did please me very much last night and as a reward I am asking you what punishment you would think fitting for this man. He put 80 women and children in a wreck of a ship letting them pay 10,000 dollar and promised to help them cross towards Europe. The boat collapsed. 23 children and 7 mothers drowned. I know you worked with refugees like that for years. What punishment is fit for him?’
She gasped at the phone. So he was pleased. But what was this? She looked up to Idriss and asked ‘What is customary for crimes like this?’ ‘Dead’ he answered. ‘Type your verdict.’
She looked at the phone and started typing.
‘This man may choose. Either getting hanged for his crimes or do penance. In that case he should be whipped in public for his crimes 1 lash for each victim and I know how that hurts. If 30 strokes will kill him they best be administered in batches over time. Then he will be displayed on the main market square in a cage for 30 days and beg on his knees for forgiveness from every woman or child that orders him to do so. Letting others see how despicable people like him are. For the next 30 years he should work as a slave at an orphanage. Only to be released if the children he raised there will testify towards his kind behaviour. But he will still live.’
She pressed send and saw him look at his computerscreen. She realised she had put a sentence down that would remind him of the one he gave her but in this case there was a chance to be forgiven.
He beckoned with his finger and Idriss took her arm and escorted her down towards the throne-room bringing her at a stop at her master’s feet. The people in the room all looked at the woman who was brought out by an eunuch. They realised they were gazing at one of their lord’s women. Her blue eyes and the light eyebrows and skin even veiled revealing she was a stranger to their lands.
One moment she wondered if telling those people their lord held her prisoner or run for it would help her but she was afraid his long sword or those of the guards would silence her. So she just stood there slightly trembling wondering what he had planned.
‘Look at this woman,’ the Sheikh barked towards the peoplesmuggler. ‘Before she came to live in my palace she spent years caring for people you have been plundering and sending to their deaths. I will let her judge you as you were a leech bleeding women and children. She does understand our language a bit but cannot speak it properly enough so I will translate her verdict on you. Do not even dare looking at what is mine for one moment longer. Prostate yourself and hear your fate.’
He started the formal sentences that had been the formula for verdicts for many centuries and then turned his flaming eyes towards her. ‘Speak’ he ordered. And she repeated what she had written down just a few moments ago. Him translating her soft sentences one by one as she went. The man was trembling at her feet and the mothers in the back started to cheer when they heard this princess standing at the feet of her husband speak in their own language damming that cruel beast who had preyed upon them.
She knelt down and bowed her head on the floor. ‘My lord can I ask one favour?’ He stared down at her wondering what she was doing now and then said ‘Yes.’
‘The women who are here and who travelled from their country through the desert have probably no place to go to anymore now they are here more or less stranded. Would you be so kind to offer them and their children a safe place to live and work? May they be your personal wards?’ The women started to cheer again throwing themselves on the floor as well like that princess in her veil.
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