Lady Cynthia Harmison watched her lady in waiting as she finished packing her case. She was going on holiday to Morocco tomorrow with her lady in waiting Sarah Jones a very pretty Welsh girl. Sarah was a five foot four inch, blue eyed blonde with big breasts on her shapely body. She had only worked at Longsdale House for six months and as lady in waiting four weeks.
The death of James Harmison, Lord Harmison, from a short illness of cancer had left his wife heart broken and she had become suicidal and needed psychiatric treatment the culmination of which was to go on a trip to Africa.
"Jones, prepare my bath, I'm tired and want an early night."
Sarah left the room and ran the bath, she called out to her ladyship to advise her that all was ready. Cynthia entered the room and stood waiting for Sarah to undress her. Sarah removed her clothes and helped Cynthia into the bath. Cynthia laid back in the bath and held her hand out for for Sarah to place a glass of red into it. Cynthia loved her baths, it was her time to relax and sip wine. Sarah had the job of cleaning Cynthia's body.
Lady Cynthia was a true aristocrat with a cut glass accent, her parents had sent her to the top girls school and she had been introduced to society. Girls of her breeding used to "come out" but that had been stopped years before Cynthia came of age, however being presented to society meant she was basically introduced to eligible men, a meat market, cynics might say. It was however a good method for parents to get their offspring off their hands.
Cynthia had met and married her husband, it was not a marriage made in heaven but just a marriage of convenience, money marrying money, She was very fond of her husband and they had a happy marriage without too much passion. She had never done a days work in her life and she was eye candy for her husband. She dressed in designer clothes and her jewellery was an insurance liability. The death of James Harmison shook Cynthia to her core, it was only after his death that she realised how much she loved him.
The next morning she and her lady in waiting went to a small airport where she was being flown to Morocco in a private jet. The pilot was an old friend who agreed to take her rather than having her face the rigors of an commercial airport. Her luggage was loaded and permission to take off given by the control room. Once in the air she fell asleep only to be woken by the shaking of the jet, they had run into a thunderstorm as they approached the north African coast.
Something had affected the instruments in the pilots cabin and he was struggling to determine his position in relation to the airport at Tangiers. He flew blind and was beginning to panic as he could see mountains in front of him. He had overshot the airport and was preparing to turn back when his engine cut out. Now he was really panicking as the plane lost height rapidly, he searched for somewhere to try to land his plane. At the last minute he spotted a relative flat area and headed towards it. He landed badly and the plane smashed into a rock that he had missed seeing but not missed hitting. He died immediately on impact but luckily the aircraft rolled over and came to a stand.
Lady Cynthia passed out and Sarah was shook up but was unharmed. The door was jammed closed by the impact and Sarah could not open it, she sat down and awaited her fate. When Lady Cynthia woke she asked what had happened and Sarah explained their predicament. They both tried to open the door to no avail and they sat down frustrated.
Two days later a band of Berber tribesmen found the plane and forced their way into the cabin where they found two white women and later the body of the pilot. The tribesmen pulled the women out and tied them up and made them walk behind their horses. Lady Cynthia protested vehemently at her treatment, nothing like this had happened to her in her lifetime and she was hopping mad. A tribesmen slapped her face till she shut up. Cynthia may be an aristocratic woman but she had taken in her predicament and shut up after the tribesmen slapped her twice.
All day the women walked behind horses, stumbling at times but the pace wasn't too fast. The tribesmen never spoke to them and never offered food or water. They had drunk all the water they found in the plane but they hadn't eaten since they boarded the plane. As the light faded they entered an area that was inhabited. A huge tent surrounded by smaller ones spread around a pool of water, an oasis. The women were pushed inside the big tent where a large chair faced them. on the chair was a big man, Berber, who addressed them in a language they didn't understand Then he spoke in English. "Who are you and what are you doing in my country?"
Lady Cynthia replied, "My name is Lady Cynthia Harmison and the other lady is my lady in waiting Sarah Jones. I would be obliged if you would contact the British ambassador and get him to get me out of your country. My plane crashed on the journey to Tangiers and I want to go home. Your men have treated us appallingly and we must protest about that."
"Shut up woman, you talk too much, you are my guest, or rather you will now be my slaves, both of you."
"Sir, I must protest..." She was shut up by a man who put a gag over her mouth. Lady Cynthia was furious but could not speak.
"My name is Aksil and when you are allowed to speak you will call me Master, always or you will be severely punished, Nod if you understand."
Sarah nodded but Cynthia didn't and she was rewarded by a smack on her head with such power that she fell over. "Do you understand now, woman?"
Lady Cynthia nodded her head although she was still laying on the floor. Aksil said, "that is good, you will now go to the women's tent and they will prepare you to enter my presence as becomes a slave." He spoke to his men and they dragged Lady Cynthia up and marched both women to a tent and pushed them in.
The Berber women giggled at the sight of the two white women. They took the gag off of Cynthia's mouth but stopped her from speaking by shaking their heads and placing a finger on her mouth. Cynthia got the message and shut up, they wouldn't understand her anyway.
The two women were stripped naked and the Berber ladies washed them from head to foot before drying them off. They were then made to lay down and the Berber women removed all the body hair from both ladies. Lady Cynthia was furious but said nothing, humiliation was not her scene. The Berber ladies ohhed and ahhed when the white women stood up. Their bodies washed and shaved they looked so perfect, Sarah had the biggest tits and her light brown nipples stood hard and firm, her blonde hair hung down by her shoulders, her blue eyes flashing and her shaved slit was long at the crease where her legs met at her torso. She was a sight to behold.
Lady Cynthia was taller and slimmer than Sarah and her tits were smaller but perkier, her nipples were dark pink but stood out proud and hard, she didn't have an ounce of fat on her, her stomach was flat and the slit at the joint of her legs was long just like Sarah's. Both ladies had tight round bums, Sarah's being bigger but still firm. They were pushed onto the floor where they spent the night, neither lady had a goodnight and were glad when the sun lighted the sky as morning arrived
One of the Berber ladies called out to the guards and pushed them to the opening. Cynthia tried to pick up her clothes but was prevented by a smiling Berber lady. As they exited the tent the guards, at least they seemed like guards to Cynthia, grabbed each girl on each arm and made them walk to the large tent. By now the Berber camp had woken up and many men witnessed the girls nude march to the tent.
Aksil looked up when the women were forced into his tent. Sarah stood with her back straight and looked Aksil right in the eye, Cynthia on the other hand slouched as if embarrassed by her nudity. "Ah, you look much better now, just as new slaves should. "You" he spoke to Sarah "what is your name and what are you in relation to the woman who talks too much and too loud?"
"I'm her personal servant and my name is Sarah, I must congratulate you on your English, it is very good."
"Thank you Sarah, I was taught in Casablanca by an elderly Englishman for many years. You realise that you are my slave for me to use as I wish? Sarah nodded and Aksil continued. Your name from now on is now Lunja, or fairy tale princess, in your language. That's what you look like. The other woman who speaks so loud and so much will be called Dassin. She will be your servant until she learns her manners."
