The man looked at the young girl beneath hooded eyes. Fajer was well-known in Arabia and for all the wrong reasons. He was the man you turned to if you wanted something smuggled into Arabia, something smuggled out of Arabia, and anything else that was illegal or forbidden.
His fingers dropped the greasy chicken leg back onto the plate and he brushed his hand idly on his round stomach. His girth was large and rotund after many years of easy living and having his underlings to do most of his dirty work. He owned a large estate on the edge of the sea and enjoyed his three concubines most of the time, but this was a matter he had to attend to himself.
His fingers brushed the long, golden hair of the girl and she stared back. His dark hooded eyes took in her porcelain perfect face, lush feminine curves and blue eyes like the Arabian Sea.
He could feel himself stirring. He was a short man with little hair on top of his head and too much hair everywhere else. He had never been a handsome man, even when he was young, but he made up for it with his cunning and devious ways.
His chicken-stained fingers brushed into the girl’s hair again and he watched her struggle with the bonds that held her hands tightly behind her. So the stories were true. It had been rumored that the great sheik had been so taken with a foreign beauty that he had forsaken his concubines and wife and had become obsessed with the girl.
Having seen her beauty before him, he didn’t doubt the stories or the obsession. His greasy fingers fingered the tight nipple through the abaya fabric and he smiled. She was a beauty. He would give the little bitch Yasmeen whatever she wanted as long as the foreign woman would taste his cock that evening.
Katharine shook her head and tried to move away, but she couldn’t. She could feel the rope biting into her wrists that held her tightly bound. Her breasts were thrust forward and she wanted to cry out as the odious man that Yasmeen had taken her to touched her intimately. She struggled again, but they had put a cloth over her mouth.
Katharine had been given a glass of water before the two men had tied her up and covered her mouth. She was truly at the mercy of the two men and the sheik’s wife.
“My lord,” Yasmeen said as she stood to one side, watching the scene with amusement and disgust. She loathed Fajer.
Fajer was a fat little fuck who had been born of a whore and a camel breeder. Growing up, he had never had more than a handful of riyals to his name. He had been a street urchin, then a hoodlum of the streets, and then a mercenary. Slowly, he had built himself a house of gold from his evil doings. Yasmeen must have been crazy to have come alone here to sell the little cunt, but Fajer was her only hope. He alone could secure the whore’s passage out of Arabia and never tell a soul…for a price.
“Yasmeen,” Fajer acknowledged. He hated doing business with women, especially an uppity bitch like Yasmeen who didn’t know her place and never o
bserved hijab – the special covering reserved for Muslim women to cover their head and body to preserve modesty and morality.
“My lord Fajer, I require your assistance for a small price,” she spoke reverently and bowed slightly.
Katharine watched the two Arabs discuss what was most likely her fate. She had known that Yasmeen had been behind this plot to destroy her. She should have been more careful. Where is Mohammed? she wondered.
Fajer listened to Yasmeen drone away and watched the young foreign beauty. She would have a tight, glistening pussy that would constrict and hold his cock, and legs that he would pull and force to come around his waist. Her breasts would be high and lovely as he jerked into her slick passage and he would make sure he had satisfied himself and maybe her – maybe. A woman’s pleasure is never necessary, he thought to himself.
He listened to Yasmeen’s voice and his eyes suddenly wandered over her form. She was also a beautiful woman, sultry and dark in a true Arab way. She was fuller in form than the white girl, with eyes that were dark and dangerous. She had long, black hair, and her body was the color of honey.
He stopped touching the girl’s hair and realized he wanted the uppity Yasmeen instead. Here is a bitch to tame appropriately, he thought to himself. A bitch to be put onto all fours and taken roughly like a dog. Her ass would be high in the air as he slapped her again and again and stuffed his thick meat into her ass and pussy.
Yes, he thought idly, as he rubbed himself with no shame.
Yasmeen watched the fat Fajer touch himself. Disgusting pig! she thought. He wanted the little cunt already and she had just arrived a while ago. Why did all the men lust after her? She was a pale little thing with white skin, golden hair and Arabian Sea eyes…so what? Did her pussy taste like honey? What was the fuss about?
Yasmeen continued to tell Fajer about her plan to get Katharine out of the country and on a ship to Africa, where she would be sold into slavery.
Fajer stroked himself again and watched the way Yasmeen’s eyes glowed in anticipation. The dark kohl surrounding her eyes made them seem wide and exotic. He thought of the little bitch taking his cock into her mouth. His cock was suddenly rock-hard underneath his food-stained robe. Yes, he thought to himself. She needs to know the proper place of a woman.
“It is indeed an interesting situation, Princess Yasmeen,” he said. Fajer noticed that the white girl was drifting off to sleep and figured that Yasmeen must have drugged her.
“I agree, Fajer. It will all go according to plan and none will be the wiser,” Yasmeen replied. “Inshallah.”
“What about Sheik Mohammed?” Fajer asked. “Won’t he miss his little treasure?”
Yasmeen snorted. “Who cares about the little whore? He has a harem filled with beautiful women. What is one more?”
Fajer chuckled. The little bitch was jealous. He didn’t blame her. The white woman was a beauty.
“What does Sheik Mohammed think has happened? Does he know yet?”
Yasmeen studied the sleeping girl and sighed.
“He knows she is gone, but not who has done the deed.”
Yasmeen remembered the scene. She had hidden the little cunt in a small eunuch’s room until she had been ready to leave in the night. Mohammed had summoned the whore and had discovered her missing. He had been in a furious rage when he discovered his precious little jewel was missing. He had torn the palace apart looking for her, and had been inconsolable. By the time Yasmeen departed, Mohammed had sent riders out to the four corners of Arabia to look for her and awaited their news.