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“Yes, Bashasha?” Katharine asked as she settled herself before Bashasha on the maroon pillows.

“The sheik has asked you to attend him tonight,” Bashasha replied.

Katharine’s heart leaped in excitement, but then realized it was just the banquet that Bashasha was referring to.

“Yes, he has told me,” Katharine replied.

“Then, I will send you to be bathed and readied. I am having an abaya made for you in the color he prefers,” she added.

***

He motioned Farasha forward and she was already creaming at the thought of his cock inside her ass. She moved a pillow beneath her hips for easier access. Mohammed watched as she lay before him, arching her small ass into the air. She was delicious and biddable - a woman who knew her place. He removed his robe and his cock was hard and aching. He needed the release. He didn’t want to go to the banquet this evening thinking of the little cocktease who threatened his sanity.

He positioned his cock between her ass cheeks and she sighed.

“Please, my lord,” she gasped. Her hands clutched the pillow beneath her small breasts and she arched back.

He spread her cheeks apart and saw she was clean and oiled. She was the perfect harem woman, always ready and willing to please him. His knees pressed her slim thighs apart as her ass popped into the air and her head remained down. She grabbed the pillow harder and allowed him to position her as needed.

He stroked her slim globes as her ass remained ready. His fingers slipped into her tight pussy and then into her tight hole. Her pussy was dripping her juices, and her asshole was puckered and waiting.

“Please,” she moaned into the pillow, trying not to move her hips because she wanted him.

He smiled as his cock’s bulbous head touched into the asshole, so small and tight. She jerked up in reflex. She was hungry for it. He steadied her hips with his large hands and let her set a rhythm that suited them both.

“Harder. Please,” she begged him in the quiet room, almost sobbing the last word. She needed the release.

He smiled again as she arched like a cat and his cock slipped deeper into her tight ass. She groaned and slapped her ass against his hips.

“I beg you, harder,” she said. Her words were breathless and she jerked her hips into his, grinding them.

The room was quiet except for the sounds of flesh slapping flesh and the moaning of Farasha. Mohammed grunted, but with short bursts of air coming from his chest. He wanted the little blonde before him.

He grunted once and she reached behind and fingered her small clitoris. Her climax was close and Mohammed waited until he could feel her body shake. He pulled out, spilling his cream first into her ass and then onto it. She used a small towel to clean herself before leaving the room.

***

Katharine bathed in silence as she watched the other women giggle and chat in small groups.

Yasmeen sauntered into the bathhouse, confident and regal in a deep purple robe that accentuated her dark beauty. She asked another harem woman why Katharine was bathing.

“A banquet. That is all I know,” the woman responded.

“Indeed? Bashasha!” Yasmeen cried, stalking through the harem looking for the chief.

“Yes, Madame,” Bashasha said when she came rounding the corner, looking at the beautiful lady.

Though Katharine hid it well, she understood much of what was being said about her.

“What lies do I hear tell about this upstart slave? A banquet? Attending my husband?” Her dark eyes glared at the lovely foreign woman in the water.

“Yes. She is to attend our master at the banquet, for she knows the language,” Bashasha told her in Arabic.

“Ah,” Yasmeen smirked. “A translator.” She walked over to Kat and hissed into her ear, “I see you, little bitch!” quietly, so no one else could hear. “You are a slave still, and always will be.”

She kneeled next to Katharine on the cool tiles, while the blonde remained in the water. She didn’t care that the woman couldn’t understand Arabic. She hated her.

“You can eat my husband’s cock a thousand times, just as these sluts do, and you’ll never be anything more than a cheap little whore. He’ll sell your body to the highest bidder once he’s tired of your cunt and your taste,” Yasmeen hissed.


Tags: Nicola Italia Historical