Bashasha lowered her head quietly and waited for the great Sheik to speak. She had been summoned before him and prayed to Allah that neither she, her girls nor anyone under her command had angered him.
“Praise be to Allah, great Sheik. I am yours to command.” She spoke, head lowered waiting for the young man’s reply.
Mohammed watched the older woman in a compliant position and smiled fondly. She had always been a figure in the household. As a young girl, she had been a lowly servant in the kitchens. Then as she aged, she had become a supervisor of the young maids and servants. Then as she became older still – she had been given the supervisor position of the Harem. It was a great honor that required skill in keeping the women happy and from bickering and always demanding the Sheik’s pleasure above all else.
“Dear, Bashasha. You served my father before me.”
“Yes, sire.”
“And you have done your duty well.”
“Thank you, sire.”
“I have a banquet to attend tonight. You have of course readied the women for entertainment later, but I require a special addition tonight.”
“Of course, sire.”
Mohammed stood up and his long white robes flowed about him. His height was impressive and Bashasha had always considered him a handsome man. His father had been known for his good looks – but Mohammed’s mother had been a great Egyptian beauty and he had inherited her dark bronzed skin and flashing liquid eyes.
“This banquet tonight is for the people of the village and tribe but it is also business. These gentlemen have come from far away to deal with me and to discuss the spices and oil that are abundant here. I require a different manner of business tonight.” He walked across the floor in front of Bashasha pacing.
Bashasha bowed her head as she listened intently.
“These men know our ways -but they are foreign to them. Someone who knows their language and ways would put them at ease and make the business transaction go smoother.”
Bashasha nodded. He was a wise man indeed.
“Therefore,” He stopped before the older woman and she met his eyes, “I would like the Princess bathed and ready tonight.”
“Yas – “ She was about to question his intent – sure that Yasmeen would not be at all suitable when she realized that he was not speaking about her.
“Of course, sire. She will be ready.”
“I would like her attired in the traditional Arab gown but no veil. That would be suitable if only Arabs were attending but these foreign men would find it uncomfortable and strange.”
“Yes.” She nodded.
“I would like her attired in a silver gown and have her hair unbound. I do not like her hair bound up. It is not to my liking.”
Bashasha swallowed nervously. She watched the way the Sheik spoke of Kat and it frightened her. He had never lain with her – she knew that much from the gossip. And yet, he acted as if he had tasted her and could not get enough.
His desire for her was so evident and it scared her. Where would this lead? Certainly she had considered that the stranger would get under his skin. No one had ever seen a woman that looked as Kat did with her milky skin, golden hair and Arabian sea eyes. But Bashasha had considered that once Kat’s blood had stained the Sheik’s bed she would be mistress over the Harem.
Never ever had she considered that the white girl would rule over them all. And the look in his eyes – she had never seen. The burning intensity of raw desire made her shake. It was a fire that would consume them all.
She knew the law as well as any Arab that he was allowed four wives, but a stranger? No, it had never been considered!
Mohammed’s father had had three wives and many more concubines than his son but never had they been white women from the far away land.
“Thank you, Bashasha. Send me Farasha.” He waved her away and she went quickly down the hall to the far wing where the Harem was.
Bashasha entered the Harem. “Send me Kat. And send Farasha to the Sheik.” She told the older Eunuch as he scurried to her bidding.
Mohammed waited for the young girl. He wanted to feel the Princess’ pussy surround his cock and constrict and tighten as he claimed her. Until then – he wanted no one else in this manner so he had summoned Farasha.
Farasha was his concubine who preferred sex like a dog. She was a concubine from Morocco with dark skin, small breasts and hips and long black hair.
“My lord.” She walked into the room always proud and sure but always understanding her place. She pleased him.
She was quiet, rarely spoke and always remained dutiful. She had been exchanged by her village for her brother. There had been a war and the Sheik had supported one side. Farasha had been raped and her brother captured. Her family had wanted her brother returned at all costs and had exchanged their lowly daughter for their beloved son.
She had had sex with Mohammed’s father vaginally but had been just of an age to not understand any other kind. A visiting Sheik who enjoyed young boys had taken her to bed one cold night. Because Farasha was slender and almost boy-like in her body appearance he had preferred her. He had wanted a young boy to sleep with – but the Sheik had no one.
It was during that night that Farasha had been initiated into anal sex. The dignitary had been a large rotund man with his belly almost covering his fat sex. But he enjoyed Farasha’s squirming and cries and by the end of the night – she realized that she enjoyed his cock inside her ass.
Since then, Farasha was one of the only Harem women who enjoyed and lusted after his cock in her ass. She prepared for anal sex by cleaning herself out and though he could have forced any of the women to submit to his cock anywhere – he preferred not to.
He was a man who liked his women happy and sated and he preferred those that liked what they did.
Farasha bowed lowly before him.
“Yes, Bashasha?” Kat came before her sitting on her maroon pillows.
“The Sheik has asked for you to attend him tonight.”
Kat’s heart leaped until she realized it was the banquet she was referring to.
“Yes, he has already told me.”
