Prisoner In His Harem Ch 03A Bonus

For those who have not read the whole story. English Lisbeth is captured by Sheikh Fuad while she is handing over a package containing a bomb that was supposed to kill his children. He wanted to punish her even more then the death sentence and decided to lock her up in his harem as a slave. The rest of the women there are all there out of their free will and normally Fuad is a very caring person but his rage, pain and anger make him want to hurt her by forcing her to his bed and having children of the man whose children this woman apparently was willing to kill. At first all he can think of is how to let her suffer but soon he starts to treat her just like his other ladies. So apart from the fact that she is a prisoner and has to sleep with him on occasion like his haremladies do, Rosebud's life is not that bad. It does help that he is a very attractive man and being around him makes her see the real person behind the ruler. For who has read all the chapters we know how it ends but just enjoy an extra chapter halfway into the story.

*****

-Rosebud—

"Oh this feels good. Oh please Sidi (lord) continue what you are doing now!" she thought and reached out so her hands could touch him. How had he ever thought that doing this to her was a punishment? His eyes were cast down, looking at where his member was disappearing inside of her body and his arousal made his jaws look tightly clenched. His black curls had tumbled down over his forehead. In slow strokes he was moving inside her. Her legs draped on his shoulders, his hands lifting her hips. She could only touch one of his hands on her hip.

All of a sudden her muscles clamped around him. She so wanted to hold him, feel his body cover hers, pinning her down on the bed. Her hand stroked his fingers.

"Please Lord, let me hold you!"

Her touching made him open his eyes. The dark pools focussed on her face.

"Please lord let me hold you in my arms," she begged again, reaching out to him.

"So my little English Rose wants to make love? Not being fucked by her lord and master? Made love as if I was your very British and proper husband?"

"Yes Sidi".

She felt suddenly empty. He moved her legs down from his shoulders and stretched out over her. His arms on either side of her head. Hands in her hair.

"It feels so good when you come on my cock" he breathed in her ear. His lips grazing the skin right under it. His hands grabbed hers and placed them over her head. His mouth crashing down on hers and then moving over her throat, nipping all the way down over the swell of her breasts towards her nipple. Warm lips started to suck her rosy pebble.

She gasped and fisted her fingers around his hands.

"Do you like it my little slave?"

Letting go of her fingers, he moved his arms around her waist and trailed kisses over her belly and her thighs. She could feel his hardness against her leg.

She moved her hands down and combed his curls with her fingers.

He looked up and smiled. A smile that made something melt inside her. When he moved up to kiss her lips again she just wrapped her arms around his neck and dragged him down, kissing him eagerly. She felt his lips relax and him submit to her cuddling.

Her eagerness must have fired something up inside him as she felt his kisses go wilder. His hand guiding him again inside her channel. Rocking them.

She wrapped her legs tight around his buttocks, her hands in the long curls in his nape. Their skins warming each other.

His thrust had picked up in force and speed. All she could do was follow. However all of a sudden her own body started to thrust itself against his with every push. The muscles inside her milking him. Her world growing dark and closing in on her. Her breath raging.

Little tremors made her jaw and shoulders shudder. All she could think was how good it felt.

All of a sudden she felt herself spasm around him. Her head pressed backwards in the pillow, her back arching. A keening sound escaped her. A feeling as if she had to pee. Inside it felt like she was somehow kissing his cock. Somewhere in this whirlwind she noticed him moan and come inside her. Her body shaking in his arms.

Afterwards she could have been a painting on his sheets. She was too exhausted to move and just laid there. Her legs still wide, her head tilted back on the matrass, her face pressed against the pillow at its side.

Warm lips caressed her cheek. "Thank you Puppet."

He moved downwards on the bed and placed his head on her stomach. His body between her legs, his arms wrapped around her waist. She caressed his curls.

Before the darkness of sleep claimed her in her sated feeling of happiness she wondered why he had thanked her. Why he had locked her up in his harem, mad as hell with her thinking she had had plans to murder his family, raped her into submission but since that first day of violence and anger never had treated herself different then his revered concubines. Why he had even cared tonight how she wanted to have sex.

-0-0-

"Rosebud my foreign flower you really have to wake up now."

She was plastered on her back on the bed. Her legs still spread. The covers pulled high under her chin.

She opened her eyes and noticed how the sun flooded the room. It must be around noon already. Normally the Sheikh would wake at sunrise for his prayers and to start his day. Did he not wake her this morning?

The old harem matron, Azziza, smiled down on her.

"Our lord told me to let you sleep. You seemed to have pleased the man quite well my dear. But now you have to dress and come and help with your chores."

Rosebud rose and got out of bed but it was quite clear to the older woman how stiff and sore she was. But the Sheikh had already told her he had used his girl quite intensively and she was not twenty anymore. He had also said how he enjoyed sleeping with her. Azziza had noticed how his gaze had warmed talking about "his puppet". The old lady had wondered why her lord and master, who she had raised herself, thought this woman apparently special. All his 30 girls were beautiful and at least more than 10 years younger.

Was it the appeal that this one was foreign? That this one was forced into slavery? Azziza had to admit she liked the woman too. She could not fathom that she was some foreign assassin.

"Come," said Azziza. "Let me give you a nice scrub and massage and you will feel a lot better." She took Rosebud's hand and escorted her to the baths.

-0-0-

Dozing on the sweating stone in the middle of the steamroom, the warm water poured over her, Azziza washing her, massaging her stiff muzzles and a glass of fresh mint tea had revived her. The old lady had braided her long copper curls in lots of tiny braids that now hung drying on her back. Then had given her a little affectional pat on her behind and sent her to work. She was a slave after all and not one of the pampered ladies of the Sheikh.

Rosebud looked at the rows of small decorative perfume bottles in front of her. She was supposed to fill them with rosewater from a big bucket so all the haremladies could make themselves smell nicely. The job needed a steady hand, a sieve and concentration but for the rest was quite boring and not that tiring.

She was singing softly to herself to pass the time. Her low alto voice singing an aria from the English 17the century composer Purcell.

Suddenly someone tugged at one of her braids.

"Why are you singing

'Peace and I are strangers grown

'? Are you so unhappy Puppet?" asked the Sheikh. A strange emotion on his face.

"Oh no my Lord. I am just singing to pass the time. It is from Dido and Aeneas by Purcell. That opera is set in this area of the world. That made me think of it. But I can sing you something from my part of the world. Well it is Scottish and I am from Northern England but..." And she started singing the traditional song

"The parting glass"

. Her beautiful alto voice filling the empty courtyard. The Sheikh just stood and watched her work and sing.

"It is beautiful Puppet but your songs are all very sad. Noor you better practise her language skills."

When she turned she saw the smiling face of Noor. Noor was one of the Sheikh's ladies. A quiet, intelligent girl who had taken it upon her to teach Rosebud Arabic. The young woman had become a friend.

"Shall we practice a bit while you are filling all those bottles?" she asked. When Rosebud nodded she dragged a cushion over and sat down cross-legged down on it.

The Sheikh bent over both his women and kissed them on top of their heads and walked out of his harem.

Noor and Rosebud chatted and filled the bottles together.

"I am not sad", Rosebud thought. "I am strangely feeling quite content. But why does he care if I am happy? Was it not his intentions to punish me by making me his haremslave?"

-0-0-

In the evening some of the haremladies had prepared Movie Night. They had ordered movies and the harem kitchen had prepared all kind of fingerfood. Rosebud watched the girls giggle and fuzz. Naima wrapped an arm around her and said: "Sit. First movie English. For you." An old Bridget Jones copy lighted up the big screen. Still in English but with subtitles in Arabic.

Her plate piled up with little meatballs and pastries. A cocktail of fizzy water and cactusfruit placed beside her, Rosebud relaxed on the cushions. Female bodies all around her.

"You like Rosebud?"

"Do British women really sleep with more than one man before marriage?"

The girls were giggling behind bejewelled hands by the foreign habits of the heroine on the screen. Noor had quite a pensive look on her face. "No Noor I did not live like her." Hell she had been worse. A workaholic with no men in her life.

The good food and the company made her realise this evening was like a sorority club in university. The bookworm who never truly belonged in this kind of sororities suddenly felt at home. The laughter around her, the hand that moved a plate of cake on her lap, Soraya who had dosed off like a kitten with her head on Rosebud's thigh. A warm feeling suddenly made her chest feel tight. This was home for her now. They accepted her. She was part of a sisterhood now and not a lonely traveller.

The second movie was an Egyptian drama and Rosebud had too much trouble understanding the accent to follow the story properly. She thanked Naima for her choice for an English movie as a surprise for her, and all the others for the fun they had and returned to the small broom cupboard that now was her room. After the night in the Sheikh's bed a good night sleep was more than welcome,

In bed, continuing reading the detective novel the Sheikh had borrowed her, she suddenly wished her lord and master was coming. But she had seen Idriss, the head of the household of the sheikh and the chief eunuch, tell Jameela to go and join their master.

Jameela the beautiful one as her name even meant was his favourite woman. The girls rumoured she has special skills in bed. Born in a tribe of desert nomads who roamed the far South, her tribe recognised female leadership and the women could demand sexual gratification or else get a divorce. The very beautiful woman definitely liked a good romp in bed. She had been utterly surprised that Rosebud had never taken a man in her mouth and had no idea how to do that. Immediately she had ordered a banana and set herself to a very visual explanation. Rosebud could imagine that after her inexperience of the night before he was now looking for a night with that tiger.

She shivered. She felt cold. If she would now be in the Sheikh's bed she would cuddle up on his shoulder. His warmth and his snoring luring her into Morpheus's arms. Tossing and turning she wondered what was wrong with her. Was it her period coming? Then she often felt this cold and restless too. She had always been very irregular. How long had it been that she last had it? Quite some time. Trying to figure that out she dozed off.

-o-o-

"Have you ever seen the gardens?" asked Azziza the next morning. "No? Well the Sheikh is playing with his children in the gardens and they need refreshments. Go to the kitchen and they will handle you a tray. Ask one of the haremguards at the gardendoors to accompany you. Just hand the food and drinks to the old nanny and then come back."

The gardens were big. Cool paths lined with palmtrees, a pool, flowers everywhere. The surf and the sandy beach in the background calling out to her to have a swim. The three layers tray with a handle on top of it was easy to carry even when piled full with drinks and sweatmeats.

Suddenly the path turned and the eunuch brought her to a gazebo. Inside the Sheikh and two boys were playing a board game. A small girl was playing with a cat in the shade of a palmtree where an old lady was dozing wrapped in a dark cloak.

She bowed in the direction of the Sheikh and his sons. The young boys were handsome like their father. She felt his dark eyes burn.

He barked to the guard to approach. She could not hear what they said to each other and busied herself with smiling to the girl and the old lady and handing over the tray to the nanny. When she saw that the Sheikh and the eunuch were still talking she crouched down to call the cat over. Her coat was like satin.

The eunuch took her back to the palace. She asked him if the Sheikh had been angry with him. The man nodded and said: "He said I could have never let you out of the harem unveiled. I apologised and said I had been under the impression that the women who brought him his tea there did not have to veil themselves completely. He said you are not a servant but one of his concubines and you are never allowed to be outside of the harem unless you are covered and guarded."

-o-o-

Idriss bowed deep in front of the queen. Leila was sitting on her divan, a piece of beautiful embroidery in progress on her lap. Over forty and having birthed three children and miscarried plenty others, she was still a goodlooking petite darkhaired Arabian noblewoman. Her health had been failing her for years. She hardly left her room in her bungalow. Raising her kids was her main joy. Many years ago she had asked the Sheikh to find young women to take her place in his bed. Still however she cared a lot for her childhood friend and cousin.

"Idriss my sons told me the Sheikh has a new woman in his harem. One with beautiful flaming hair the colour of Rooibos tea. My eldest said her skin is very pale and she has blue eyes. Who is this foreigner?"

"My queen our Lord locked up this Inglesi. She was arrested carrying a bomb."

"That attack aimed at my children? Why is he sleeping with a woman who is a killer? Why has he not executed her?" The normally very calm woman was shaking. Fuad seemed to be off kilter.

The big dark man bowed deep again. "My lady he punished her. He raped her and took her virginity. Someone had flogged her before she was brought to the palace. She was so upset she hardly ate or drank for days."

"Why does he keep her here? Can he now not just send her to a prison deep in the desert now he took her honour?"

"I do not know what your husband thinks my Lady."

"We all know you two are best friends. What is going on? Sit down. Have some tea and tell me please."

The big man folded his legs and poured himself some mint tea.

"I do not know what he is thinking but I can tell you what I am thinking My Queen. She probably is a spy although London denies it. Maybe it was a rogue group. I sincerely doubt however that she knew the bomb was supposed to kill children. She does not seem the type and I pride myself in being a good judge of characters. As far as I have observed that would not be something she would ever do. I wonder if she even knew it was a bomb. The Sheikh has send his own spies to figure out who was behind the plot. Maybe we will know one day."

"Rosebud as he called that English woman seems to be a nice person. I think the Sheikh first just planned to ignore her when things quieted down but one evening he found her in the bath and took her to his bed again. Asked her even to advice in one of his cases. To be honest I think she fascinates him. And he likes to sleep with her. He still has not ordered me to put her on anti-conception."

"So Idriss you think Fuad thinks keeping her locked up is punishment enough? Send me that woman and let me see for myself if she seems ok!"

Idriss knodded. He respected queen Laila tremendously. He recognised his friend the Sheikh in the cousin his family married him to.

"Idriss," she said, "if she is a good person maybe she can be the one for him to love. He is lonely."

"To love? Lonely? He has 30 girls!"

"Yes to bed. Do you think this woman could be the one to be his soulmate? He has been my friend since we were in diapers but he never was in love with someone. He just beds them."

Idriss stretched his legs and stood up and paced around the room. Emotions rolling off his dark face.

"They have the same things they like: music, history... I think he might like the fact that she is quite learned. He is too. She is not one of those giggling maids that come to his harem but headstrong. She still obeys him. I am pretty sure he really likes to fuck her. He tells even me about how her skin is like milk. Her nipples like pomegranate juice... He even told me yesterday how she had begged him to make love to him and how satisfied he had felt falling asleep with his head on her stomach and her fingers stroking his head. Leila maybe she can be the one..."

"Well send her here then and let me have a look."

-o-o-

After the afternoon nap during the hottest hours of the day, Idriss escorted Rosebud to a bungalow connected with the palace by a walled garden. Still however she was covered from head to toe like when she had been send into the

majlis

where the Sheikh had been judging the smuggler.

Rosebud wondered where Idriss was taking her. The door opened and they entered a sitting room. A woman a little bit older then Rosebud was embroidering. Her hennaed black hair glossy but her face a bit worn and tired. To Rosebud she looked like someone who was not very healthy.

Idriss bowed down and prodded Rosebud to bow too. "Rosebud bow for our queen."

Rosebud realised this was the official wife of the Sheikh and the mother of the children she had seen in the garden. Shame flushed her cheeks. This woman must think her a whore. A whore to bed her husband. She wished she could run away.

"So you are the English woman my husband called Rosebud. The woman who must be the mother of his next children. Why did you want to kill mine?"

She tried to press her face even more in the carpet. Was this lady now going to punish her as well?

"Look at me Rosebud. Tell me in my face! Remove your veil."

Idriss moved her up till she was again on her feet. She looked in eyes as dark as the Sheik's.

"I did not want to kill anyone oh queen. I was just asked to give a package to someone by someone working at the embassy. I might have been stupid but it never occurred to me something might be wrong."

Tears started to flow. She did not know how she could apologise. This woman would have been devastated if the plan had succeeded.

"I worked my whole life saving people. Saving children. Oh lady I am so sorry that I was almost the weapon to bring you so much harm. I am so sorry. I did not know."

She sank down on her knees and started sobbing her heart out. All the stress of the last months suddenly finding a way out.

"I always dreamt of having children. I would rather have died myself then killed them."

"Idriss is it true she worked saving children?"

"All I know is she worked with refugees."

"You did?