Hollys Grand Tour

After 18 days at sea crossing the Atlantic from Liverpool this was going to be a day to remember for the rest of her life. A brisk ocean breeze blew Holly's golden hair back from her face as she gazed across the rolling waves looking for the gray sliver of land one of the stewards had told her would be Gibraltar. Oh yes, Gibraltar, gateway to the Mediterranean and all those places she had read about.

Back in her father's study in Cornwall, Holly had devoured everything in the library in preparation of this adventure. To think, Holly Lancaster, a prim young lady of 20, statuesque in stature with rosy red lips was going on "The Grand Tour" all by herself. Well, not really by herself. Her father, of course, resisted the trip saying she was too young, too inexperienced to be traveling alone. But Holly was determined. She would leave from Liverpool on the packet ship and at her father's insistence her aunt would meet her in Tangier. But even if she was stuck with this old maiden aunt, Holly knew this was going to be an adventure filled with impossible animals, fierce cannibal tribes and all sorts of dangers. And she, young Lady Holly Lancaster, daughter of the noted Sir Henry Lancaster, would meet these adventures head on and defeat them just as she had read in the adventure books she secretly read at night in bed but kept hidden away in a trunk so her father would not find them.

From aloft, Holly heard a call from the lookout. She looked upwards to see him, but he was calling and point back out to sea, not in the direction Holly had been told to look for land. Sailors appeared on the deck and began running here and there raising sails, pulling on lines in a fury of activity. Holly stood open mouthed, confused.

"Madam. If you please. It would be better if you were to go below for the time being." Holly turned, her mouth still agape. The Second Officer, Mr. Dennison, was taking her elbow and moving her gently towards the companion ladder that lead below decks to the cabins.

"Why? What's happening, Mr. Dennison?" Holly asked as she was smoothly guided down the companion stairs.

"No trouble, Miss Lancaster. No trouble at all. It's just a storm. This happens all the time in these waters."

"But what is going on? Oh, it must be a pirate ship following us," Holly said twisting away from the Second Mate and gleefully heading back toward the stairway.

"Miss, you can't go up there. We have a storm heading towards us. But it's no problem, we will out run it easily. If not, this is a good ship and we will ride it out. Now please go to your cabin."

Mr. Dennison again took Holly by the elbow. Holly could see she had no choice. So turning she took the few steps down the passageway and entered her cabin.

Above on deck, Holly could hear the crew running around and the officers giving orders. The sounds of the water washing against the hull deepened and the natural side to side roll give her a sense that the ship was gaining speed.

Thinking to herself, Holly could assume that since she could not see Gibraltar, then it must still be 40 or 50 miles distant. That meant 6 hours sailing time. She wondered if that would be time enough.

As the hours past, the roll of the ship became more pronounced. At times Holly was thrown about on her tiny birth by the ships movements. She could hear the wind howling through the ships rigging and the rain pounding on the deck above her. Silently she thanked Mr. Dennison for insisting she remain in her cabin where it was dry and relatively safe from the storm.

Then something happened. The ship seemed to stall as it crested a 20 foot wave. There was the sound of cracking wood and the ship swung wildly to leeward and headed over the top of the wave into the trough. Instead of hitting the trough at an angle the boat struck it head on, burying the bow. Another frightening sound of splintering wood then the boat seemed to right itself before making another swing to leeward. In this position with the boat at right angles to the waves, it leaned dangerously into the wind, tearing away the main sail. Now the unbalanced boat swung to windward in a broach just as 20 feet of water broke over it. The boat pitch-poled then slowly began to right itself. But everything below decks in the hold had broken loose and began sliding to leeward.

Holly was lying in a heap on the deck near the cabin door in two feet of cold sea water. Quickly, leaning to windward to remain upright she stood and opened the cabin door. The companionway was partially blocked with flotsam. Ignoring any danger she made her way to the stairway and up onto the main deck. Holly stared in disbelief. The main deck was deserted, the crew swept overboard when the ship turned over. The last tatters of sails flapped in the wind from what was left of the broken mast. Holly could feel the wind tearing at her clothes. Sheets of rain and blowing seawater soaking her.

Oddly, the boat seemed to have stopped but still sat at right angles to the waves. The next wave hit the side of the boat causing a lurch and Holly was falling, falling, falling forever toward the black sea.

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Holly opened her eyes and abruptly closed them again against the blazing sun. Her body ached and burned. She moved her arm to raise up on one elbow. Cautiously she opened her eyes again shading them with her free hand. She was laying on a sandy beach far up from the waters edge. Twisting, she could see the ocean to one side and a sandy hill to the other. Painfully, she stood and looked up and down the deserted beach. Here and there were timbers and refuse that had washed ashore in the storm. Holly could think of nothing to do but walk.

After taking inventory she tied what was left of her torn and tattered dress as best she could to maintain her dignity, and, as a proper British lady, began walking north, keeping the ocean to her right. She thought to herself, "I know Tangier can't be far."

Hours later when the sun had moved high over head to mark the mid-day. Holly, heard the sound of horses coming from beyond the sandy hill. With a feeling of relief she began running toward the hill knowing a search party had found her. And why wouldn't there be a search party? After all, she was a respected subject of the Crown and therefore, valuable to the Empire. But half way up the sandy hill she came to a halt and simply stared.

At the crest of the hill stood a very odd man. Obviously this was a man of the desert. He was dressed in some kind of trousers and shirt, belted at the waist, with a long black, flowing robe over his shoulders. On his feet were soft leather boots what came half way to his knees. Strangest of all, he worn a garment on his head that Holly took from the pictures in the books she'd read to be a turban.

Holly knew one had to deal firmly with the "natives" in those countries at the outer reaches of the Empire. So drawing herself up to her full height, Holly marched up the hill and stopped in front of the man saying, "You there. Give me a horse and a guide. I have urgent business in Tangier."

The man didn't move and seemed to not have heard.

"Well, get on about it. And be quick about it."

With this the man let out a deep throated laugh and called over his shoulder, "Amed. Bring my horse and a water flask." Moments later, another man, Amed, dressed in similar fashion, though decidedly shabbier, lead a great white stallion and carried a goat skin water bottle.

The man took the water bottle from Amed and held it up, taking a long drink. Holly reached out her hand, assuming, the man would offer her a drink to. When he didn't, she said in a loud, commanding voice, "Alright then, give me a hand up and we will go to Tangier." At this, both men laughed.

"Do you know who I am? Do you have any idea who my father is and how much trouble you will be in if you don't do as I tell you?" she hissed through her teeth.

At that, in lieu of response, the man slapped her hard on the side of the face. Holly fell backwards with the force of the blow.

Without moving, the man responded, "Yes, little one. You are someone lost in my desert. Now I have found you and so, you belong to me now."

Holly was horrified. "You don't mean...? You can't...?"

"Oh yes, little one," he said. Then turning to Amed, "Take her. Put her with the rest of the women. Have the tall woman watch her."

Amed grabbed Holly's arm roughly and dragged her up the slope. Just over the crest waited a tribe of like dressed people. Amed dragged her to a small group of women and turned to what appeared to be the leader. "Take care of this one. Do not let her out of your sight. She will try to escape. She has the wiles of a snake, this one." At that Amed grinned then turned and strode away.

The woman looked at Holly. "I am Mashla. I am Aimed's woman," Then she slapped Holly, sending her to her knees. Before Holly could react Mashla slipped a noose around her neck and drew it tight. "Now you will not run away."

"I will not be treated this way," Holly hissed, only to be slapped again.

The tribe began to move west at a walk lead by the man who first found Holly. The pace was steady but relentless. As the sun moved towards the west the air heated to an unbearable level. But still the band moved west. Holly's bare feet burned on the hot sand and the sun turned her milky skin red as it roasted her flesh.

Finally, as the western sky began to glow a deep reddish-orange, the band stopped for the night. Holly laid down on the sand, exhausted and in pain, but Mashla jerked on the noose, pulling her to her feet. "Plenty of time to rest later. For now there is work."

Wearily, Holly allowed herself to be lead to where the other women were at work. Some setting up the tents for the night. Others preparing the food. Mashla handed, Holly a leather bucket and pointed to a large sack that had been unloaded from one of the horses. She showed Holly how to scoop the dry meal from the sack into the bucket then feed the horses. This was to be her job for the next few days.

"You expect me to do the work of a common stable boy? Be damned!"

A hard jerk on the noose and another slap quieted Holly and she did as she was instructed, reluctantly.

When Holly finished the men were sitting around a fire dipping into the numerous bowls scattered among them. As they ate, the men talked very fast in a language, Holly could not understand. Holly reached for one of the bowls and was cuffed hard for her effort. Sulkily, she sat back and watched, muttering under her breath.

After more than an hour the men finally rose and moved off by themselves. At that the women swooped in and grabbed what was left in the bowls. Holly moved from one bowl to another only to find they had been wiped clean. Mashla took her hand and gave her a piece of bread which Holly devoured hungrily. Then Holly was shown how to clean the bowls with sand and while the other women, with the exception of Mashla, moved off to the tents, Holly worked under Mashla's watchful eyes..

With the last bowl cleaned, Holly was lead to a tent on the far side of the group. Mashla shoved her inside. Here she found the man asleep, a woman by his side. Mashla pushed Holly up against the central tent pole and tied her wrists with leather straps set into the pole. With that, Mashla, left. Holly leaned against the tent pole and closed her eyes.

Sometime later, Holly was awakened by a sound. Without stirring, she listened. It was the sound of breathing, very heavy, followed by smacking sounds, and later by what she took to be a whimper.

"Oh God," she thought. "I'm not hearing this. Animals. These savages are animals." The sounds increased and as they became more audible Holly could tell it was the sound of a man gasping and low moans of a woman. The woman's moans became louder as Holly listened, fascinated.

Then Holly noticed her nipples were tingling strangely and there was the beginning of wetness between her legs. Feelings that she had never felt before were beginning deep inside between her legs. As if with a mind of it's own, her hand snaked down and down until her fingers dipped into the wetness. A warmth began to grow between Holly's leg, spreading upwards until the warmth turned to a burning that seemed to envelop her entire body.

Still the sounds from the bed came louder. The woman now screaming and the man grunting with the exertion of sex. This only made these new feelings in Holly stronger. Her fingers moved between her lips and moved slowly until they found the tiny button near the front. Touching that, Holly's back arched and a small moan of her own was added to those of the two only a few feet away.

"Allah... Allah... Fuck me harder," pleaded the woman in the bed as Holly's entire body began to spasm with the intensity of her very first orgasm. Then as her fingers plunged deep inside beyond her lips more waves came over her. Now it seemed her entire body was wracked with pleasure. Again and again her fingers plunged deep inside her until finally in a grand crescendo the last wave, far bigger than all the others coursed through her. And with that, Holly fainted.

Holly stretched as she swam up from the depths of a deep sleep brought on by total exhaustion. She knew she'd had a terrible nightmare about being shipwrecked and captured by some unruly, and rather smelly, tribes people. But now it was morning and time to see the Second Office about breakfast. Stretching luxuriously, Holly opened her eyes, then sat bolt upright. I had not been a dream. It was all true.

Mashla jerked the noose around Holly's neck making her flinch. "You get up now. Already sleep too late. Put these on. Hurry," Mashla ordered as she held out an arm load of garments. Holly broke for the opening of the tent to escape, but Mashla jerked the noose then slapped her face.

Holly took the clothes and looked at them suspiciously. They were filthy and smelled terrible. Another jerk on the noose and Holly began discarding the remainder of her dress while glaring at Mashla. Then pulled the rough desert robe on over her knickers. These clothes covered her from the shoulders down to her ankles, with a hood that covered her bare head.. They seemed to be made of some, heavy coarsely woven fabric but they did make her feel more lady-like since they covered her nakedness far better than the tattered remains of her own clothes.

Mashla lead Holly out of the tent. Already there was a lot of activity and nearly the entire camp was packed away even though the sun had just peeked over the desert dunes to the east. Mashla showed her how to break the tent down and fold it so it could be packed with the other camp equipment. Then the entire tribe set out heading more northeasterly this time.

Today, the man held the leash end of her noose as he sat astride his horse. Again the pace was only a steady walk but they never stopped.

About mid-morning, the man turned in his saddle and yelled, "Amed, how much farther do you think?"

Amid, who had been trailing behind, spurred his horse to catch up. When he was abreast of the man he said, "I think we will get there late in the afternoon, Kareim."

"Kareim," Holly thought. Finally the man had a name. "I shall show him. Well, Mr. Kareim will be in very much trouble when my father finishes with him," she thought with satisfaction.

The tribe moved on over the dunes, always in a straight line to the Northeast , never wavering in their trek. Holly's bare feet again were burned by the super heated sand but, at least, the clothes Mashla gave her did give some shelter from the sun. Before the sun reached its zenith, Kareim called a halt and everyone hunkered down in the lee of the dunes to rest in what little shade there was. The water skins were passed around and Holly, drank her fill with the rest. But the respite was not for long and soon the tribe was moving again.

Several hours later, Holly could see a dark area ahead on the horizon. As the tribe moved closer, she could make out the green tops of trees . An oasis. The tribe moved faster now. The horses could already smell the water that awaited them and the entire tribe wanted to rest in the cooling shade during the hottest part of the day.

The tents were pitched next to the oasis as Mashla and Holly watered the horses in the limpid pool at the center of the circle of trees. The horses drank eagerly, but Mashla kept pulling them away, fearing they would drink too quickly and become ill. Holly took the opportunity to drink deeply at the pool. The cool water refreshing her. For the first time, Holly could think. She had held the idea of escaping out into the desert. But where was she? How far and how long would she last out there alone? Holly decided to bide her time and make her escape when the time was right.

Holly and Mashla returned to the tents when it was already growing dark and the men sat in a circle around the fire, eating and talking. As before, the women waited until the men were done and moved away, the swooped down to scoop the scrapes from the bowls. This time, driven by hunger, Holly dived in and grabbed what she could with her hands, stuffing her mouth, the grease running down her chin. Holly never tasted what she ate as she would in the days to come. The food was swallowed in gulps almost without chewing. In the end, Holly felt almost satisfied and leaned back to sit on the sand next to a tent. But a Jerk on the noose reminded her of her duty to feed the horses.

It was full dark by the time the horses were fed and the bowls cleaned. Mashla was snoozing on he sand. Holly had one more chore to do. She had to fill the water skins so they would be ready to move the next morning. With Mashla sleeping, Holly slipped into the trees surrounding the pool, but as she came near there were noises coming from that direction. Holly edged back into the shadows and crept forward cautiously. Only a few yards from the pool, Holly could see Kareim with a woman bathing naked in the pool. The laughed softly, touched, kissed, embraced. Then began the age old dance of love. As Holly watched, the woman bent to kiss Karime's chest and nipples. Then she kissed lower and lower until he had his growing cock in her mouth. Kareim took her head and moved it back and forth so that his cock slide deep into her throat then out where her tongue would play with the head. Then he would force his cock back into her throat.

Presently, Kareim's head fell back, eyes closed. His breath came in short bursts. And almost as if the earth would shake and the heavens open, he shot a great load of cum into the woman's mouth. Spurt after spurt ran down her throat, covered her face and tits.

Holly wanted to scream with horror. Holding a hand over her mouth, she quietly slipped back into the bushes and quickly back to the tents. She did not return to the pool until after she saw Kareim and the women again. By then, Mashla had awoken from her nap and the two went together carrying torches to the pool to fill the water skins.

Mashla push her torch into the soft sand at the waters edge to give them light to work by, then motioned Holly to do the same. Space two meters apart one side of the pool was bathed in the flickering light. As Holly watched, Mashla began to remove her robe, letting it fall to the sand around her ankles. Mashla stood in the torchlight, the light dancing off her naked body. Holly stared at the delicate curve of Mashla's ass and the dark brown nipples that topped her full breasts. Mashla stretched then turned and entered the pool.

"Are you not going to bathe?" she asked staring at the open-mouthed Holly. "This is your last chance for many miles."

Without saying a word, Holly sat at the edge of the pool and dangled her feet in the cool water. It felt wonderful. Mashla moved close to her and placed her hand on her knee.