Sex stories

Sex stories




My Dream Comes True

1 -- The Introduction

So, there I was. On my knees, naked, hands bound behind my back and the huge cock of my new Arab master in my mouth as he towered over me. In his right hand was the leather strap he had just used to whip me. My back was still stinging from the whipping. His left hand was wrapped around my long blond hair as he bobbed my head back and forth at the rhythm he demanded. I knew that in a few short minutes, he would stream a load of cum into my mouth. And, as he was a true Arabian, he would expect nothing short of my swallowing every bit of it.

That was my secret fantasy.

An astounding sequence of events brought me to where I am today. My name is Ann McDonald. I am a senior in college in the general studies program. Life for me had been 'normal', I guess. I had friends who I hung around with. I did okay in my classes. But this last field trip would be the end of college life for me and a new beginning. It all began several weeks ago as my International Studies class left for the field trip to the Aqobon Oasis in southeastern Saudi Arabia. Eight of us, four male and three female students, and Professor Harkins had been invited to visit the area on a cultural exchange visit. This would be the exercise that would cap our semester and finish the school year. The entire trip had been financed by the father of Kosi Amman, one of the female students. He had set up the trip for us last year as a gift to the department. Kosi came across as hard and, at times, hateful. She did not have much patience for American partiers (like me). I tried to talk to her on several occasions about her home. She said I could not conceive of how life was in her homeland, and then she would change the subject. Now, I will get to find out first hand.

The third female was Joyce Hamilton, my roomie and best friend. She was beautiful; she was well-proportioned physically. She had long black hair, dark brown eyes and seemed to be able to hold a tan year round. On the other hand, I was blond, had blue eyes and skin that was milky white. I was not built quite to her level of dimension, but I could turn an eye. And, we were both in the hunt for 'the right man.' So many of the men we knew were sissies. It was one disappointment after another. Where are the real men, anyway? I knew I would find the one someday. After all, every girl knew that there was a man out there somewhere who is destined for her.

We were excited about the trip. Joyce and I had already travelled together to Europe, to China and Japan, and to the Australian Outback. We had travelled on high-speed trains, on camel's backs, on horse's backs, on our own feet, in desert jeeps and in four-seat planes. We had seen people from just about everywhere in the big cities and in the wilderness. We were looking forward to this trip to this out-of-the-way oasis in the Middle East.

The males on the trip were Howie Morgan, jock and idiot. He had taken me out on a date once. His idea of a good time was crushing beer cans on his forehead. It was probably the most productive thing his skull had ever done. He would be the last man I would want to be hooked up with. Joyce had dated him, too. She told me he wanted to handle her boobs the entire time because he was certain they were fakes and he wanted to find the 'fill plug'. What a jerk. Jim Mitchell, good student and wimp. He was pleasant to talk to, but I could probably go 5 for 10 against him in arm wrestling. He was the most outstanding academic member of our class. Avery Mitchell, Jim's younger brother and more of a wimp and less of a student. He was shy and, I think, he was terrified to even be near a girl. Jim and Avery were nice, but they were not into the dating scene. Finally, Akim Ajwan, the exchange student and another book worm. He had started the term late. I had the hots for him. He was an Arab exchange student like Kosi. I think they were from the same general region in Saudi Arabia. He was a dreamboat. I made sure to wiggle my ass and arch my boobs up and out and smile every time I walked passed him, but he seemed oblivious to me. Kosi told me he was here to learn and would worry with his woman after he got back home at the end of the term. That did not jive with the version of male libido that I knew. It just made me want to try all the harder to seduce him. But I never seemed to find anything that would make an impact! It would have taken a bulldozer to pull his attention away from the books.

2 -- The Journey Begins

Joyce and I were flying to New York to make the international connection on a later flight than everyone else. We had told everyone that we had a prior engagement. We had told Kosi the truth: we were entrants in a wet-t-shirt contest! She was appalled that we would disrupt the trip and disrespect her father in this way. But she arranged for us to catch an alternate plane anyway about four hours after the others left. She promised not to tell anyone. We genuinely thanked her for her help.

We were laughing as we got on the plane. Joyce whispered to me, "Ann, don't you think Kosi will be so proud of me for winning grand prize?"

"Not really. I think she is already jealous of you. This will probably push her over the edge."

"Hey, you got second place, so won't she be mad at you too?"

I acted angry. "Joyce, you know I was the clear winner from a quality standpoint. Apparently, quantity was given more weight than quality. Get it, get it?" I jabbed her side with my elbow.

Joyce replied with a bit of sarcasm, "Oh, Ann, why don't you take a job as a stand-up? You're such a natural. But don't you know? When men fondle their women's boobs, they want some flab to ooze out between every one of their fingers. That's a turn on for men. I've got that one nailed. You're probably about a two or three finger oozer! But that is good. Most girls are zeroes." She laughed and got me giggling, too.

"At least mine won't be hanging to my knees when I turn fifty. Kosi shouldn't be jealous anyway. Anyone who can wiggle an ass the way she can has nothing to complain about. Those four guys now travelling alone with her now will surely be drooling for the entire trip. Well three of them anyway. If I can't get Akim to notice me, he sure isn't going to notice Kosi!"

"I don't know. I think she and Akim are secret lovers!" she sighed with a dainty romantic voice. I knew she was serious. That thought had crossed my mind, too. I did not want to believe it.

"Now who's the comedian?"

"She does walk nice. I would like to have a walk like hers," Joyce replied a bit more seriously. We looked at each other and giggled some more. Then we both settled down and tried to get some sleep on the long flight. It was going to be a long day or two ahead of us.

Once we reached Athens, Kosi's father had arranged for a charter to fly us into the Aqobon region the morning after everyone else arrived. It was a nice touch riding in style. We did not know what Kosi's father did for a living, but he was financially well off whatever it was.

As we flew over the Arabian Peninsula I looked down out of the window. There was not much to see but bleak desert and the occasional mountain. There were a few streaks that were roads connecting the small villages and oases. Deep down inside I thought about my personal fantasy. We were about to land in a somewhat remote region of Arabia. Was there a man down there somewhere who could be a master to me? Was that a silly thought? It is the twenty-first century. I was dreaming of a time long ago and a romantic vision that could not exist in the world as it is today.

Joyce was looking out the other side. I wonder what she was thinking. She had her own fantasy, I am sure. We all do. Did she want to be manhandled by a virile master like I did? Enough. I know I am wasting my time day-dreaming about something that will never happen.

We made it to the regional airport and checked in at the hotel. The desk clerk informed us that the others had decided to continue on before we got there. There was a train ride to our final destination that left at night; it would avoid the desert heat. The next train would be in the morning. The clerk told us that the young lady in the group had already made our reservations for the morning train just before she and the others caught the night train. Kosi was really looking out for the stragglers in the group. We would have to thank her. Of course, without Kosi to aggravate, our day would be a bit more boring than we would have liked.

3 -- Paying the Toll

The train was due to leave at 9am. We checked out of the airport hotel and got into a limousine bound for the train station about ten miles north of the town. The limousine was a convertible. Joyce and I rode in the backseat, and the driver and another man who was travelling to Aqobon rode in the front. We had gone about five miles when we approached a row of craggy rock formations and some woods along the river bed that the road followed. The road led through a pass in the rocks. The driver had to slow down because of the narrowness of the road and the potholes, which were huge.

We stopped about a mile or so into the woods because the male traveler had to take a leak. There was a wooden bridge just ahead of us. He hopped out and ran into the woods about hundred yards or so, and he took care of business. He was walking back to the car when a gun shot rang out, then another shot. Joyce and I sat up and looked around to see what was happening. In hindsight, it was not a particularly intelligent thing to do. But I had never heard a gun-shot in my life.

The driver shouted at us to stay low and to go hide in the woods. He said, "Bandits, I must negotiate with them, they are going to want me to pay a toll to pass over the bridge. Don't let them see you. If they see American passengers the toll will increase by ten times." Joyce and I hopped out of the car. Just ahead of us I saw five men in full Arab dress riding up on horses. It was almost like the scene out of a B-movie. They almost did not look real. Was this some kind of masquerade to fool the tourists? In this run-down area, I had expected to see grungy people trying to lead simple lives. These men were gallant.

We hid behind some brush about fifty yards in the woods. The male traveler was still in the woods on the other side of the road. We heard the riders shouting at the driver and he was shouting back. We couldn't understand what they were saying from where we were, but they all seemed pretty upset. Suddenly, one pointed his gun and shot the driver. Two more shot into the woods the other way and they must have been aiming for the traveler. The other two riders dismounted and started walking into the woods on our side. Joyce and I quickly decided it would be a good idea to split up and hide deeper into the woods. There did not seem to be many good hiding places. Two of us together would make an easy target for someone searching. We quietly took off in different directions.

I heard one of the men shout. I looked back; he had spotted me. He was tall and had a look of power: broad shoulders and hard look on his face. I began running as hard as I could. I do not know how far I had run when I finally stopped well off the trail and sat inside some bushes where I could not be seen. I was breathing so heavily, I could hardly think. What did they want with us? The driver had said they wanted a toll to cross the bridge. But they were coming after us, Joyce and me. My heart was racing. I looked around and saw no one. I rested for a few more minutes, and then quietly walked further into the woods. I thought I had lost them. But where might Joyce be hiding? I was careful not to get back on the trail. It was not that hard to walk even off the trail as there was not that much underbrush to speak of. I crouched as I moved along. I looked all around me on every step. There was no one in sight. But I had that ominous feeling that there were many eyes on me.

4 -- The Hiding Place

I moved around for another hour or so, watching for any signs of the chasers. Up in the distance I saw what looked like a stone tower of some sort. As I carefully approached, I saw that it was an overgrown stone wall that was about ten feet high and looked to be about one hundred feet long. At the angle I approached, it went down the side of an incline and out of sight. It appeared deserted. I looked around and saw or heard nothing. I got up to the wall. It looked ancient. It was overgrown with moss and grass, cracked in some places and crumbling. There was a gravel path at the base of the wall. I did not think anyone had been here in years.

The silence was broken when I heard a metallic sound, a thud. Whatever it was, it seemed to be close and it was not a sound I should be hearing out here in the woods. I was panicked. There was a small opening in the wall a few yards down the incline. I ducked in there and crouched out of sight. I took a quick peek out. I saw no one. I looked behind me down the opening; there was a small window at the end about ten feet away. I heard what sounded like muffled voices. I crawled over toward the window on my hands and knees and peered through. The window looked down over a small courtyard. The area was all cobblestoned. There were two gates or doors in the rear. I could not see very much to the left or right, but the courtyard seemed to be rather larger than the outside walls would have indicated. There was a naked girl standing at a post with her hands tied above her head. A man was standing behind her holding a whip. I looked a little harder to make out what was going on: it was Joyce -- they had captured her! The man took the whip and laid it heavily on her back. She screamed. He struck her again and another scream. I began to watch the ordeal and a strange sensation came over me. She was my roommate and my friend, but I was entranced by watching her struggling helplessly while she was being whipped. The man continued to place the whip across her back and her screaming and sobbing continued. I was mesmerized by it all. How could I be so callous when my friend was being beaten? But I was entranced by the event. For some bizarre reason, I daydreamed that I was the one shackled to that post.

Another man walked up from the right and turned and looked up in my direction. I woke up from my daze and gasped. He pointed directly to me and said something to the man whipping Joyce. I backed away from the window in terror. I had to run. How could I get back into the woods without them seeing where I was going?

In a panic, I franticly backed out of the opening, turned around to stand without looking and ran directly into a tall and muscular man. He grabbed my arms at the shoulders and lifted me off the ground. I looked into his face. He was bearded and well-tanned. He wore a full Arab outfit. He was the man who had spotted me at the ambush. I tried to wriggle out of his hands to make a run for it. He looked at me and said rather disgustedly, "Hold still, slut." Then he shouted out, "I have the other American bitch. Tell the others where we are."

I was flabbergasted. I hung there in his arms and did not move. I heard a couple of men running up the incline behind me. For a moment, I felt a tingling of excitement at being held off the ground like this. The man holding me set me down easily, moved his hands down to my elbows and pushed them back behind my back. He was fully embracing me. I could feel his member -- it was stiff and long. He smiled slightly as he pressed it against me. He looked down at me with sinister eyes. I looked up at him in terror.

"Bind her," he shouted to the men behind me. One of them strapped some leather around my wrists. The man holding me let me go. I was sure he was going to rape me. "Well, American bitch. We have found you. You weren't too difficult to follow. You bitches are so stupid." He was right, we had run right to the place they had wanted us to begin with.

I was shaking but mustered enough courage to say, "You have no right to hold me here. You leave me alone. I am an American."

He laughed, and then he slapped my face with his open right hand. "You are nothing here but a slut." He said something to the man behind me in Arabic. Someone grabbed my arms from behind holding me steady. The man standing before me took ahold of my t-shirt and ripped it in two. He tore it off my shoulders and threw it aside.

"Stop it," I pleaded.

Another man behind me put a strap around my head and placed a wooden dowel into my mouth as a bridle gag. He tied it behind my head. "American bitch, you talk too much. Now hold still." They stripped me and I was standing there bound and naked.

"American bitch, you are going to learn a lot with us. We will start by removing your Western arrogance and replacing it with the type of submissive spirit required of a slave bitch. Prepare yourself; your next stop will be the slave market of Hordron. My name is Molodin, and I will be your guide." I cringed as he chuckled. He grabbed me under my shoulders, lifted me up off the ground and over his right shoulder, and then he held onto the back of my thigh with his right hand -- it tingled there and sent a pleasant shiver throughout my body. I was stunned that that erotic feeling had passed through me. I tried to suppress it the best I could. I had dreamed of a moment similar to this, had I not? These thoughts I was having -- are they not a normal response to what was going on behind me? It could not be. My dream was a fantasy -- it could not happen the way I had envisioned. Nevertheless, he held me as a sack of goods over his shoulder. I was covered by a significant feeling of helplessness. I was being carried to the whipping post.

Molodin walked down the incline. There I was, totally naked with my hands bound behind my back, on the right shoulder of a huge Arab named Molodin, and being carried to who knows where. I looked back; the other men were picking up my clothes looking them over and tucking them into their belts. They were laughing, slapping each other on the back, walked on up and around the wall out of sight. I was just a slab of meat. They divvied up my clothes and paid no attention to me. In the meantime, I was being taken away.

5 -- The Marking

Molodin walked around a corner and through an entry way. I was looking around as best I could. It looked like the courtyard where I had just seen Joyce. She was not there. I had been right, it was quite a bit bigger than I had imagined. There were several more doors and entryways. From the outside, it had been quite an illusion.

Molodin stood me on a round stone next to the post that had held Joyce just minutes before. I looked above me and saw the shackles that Joyce had just hung from. Two men came around behind me, unbound my hands and tied them to the shackles. Molodin watched them do their work. When they were finished, they stepped away. He removed the gag from my mouth. The feeling of helplessness was even stronger now. I was surrounded by men who had captured and stripped me, who had bound me and shackled me to a post. I was in their control. I had watched Joyce before, now it was my turn.

My mouth was grungy from the gag. I spit on the ground and tried to muster whatever level of courage I could find. I demanded, "You can't do this to me. I am an American. Don't you know that we are under the protection of the American consulate?"

"See here, American bitch." He held up my passport. "This document no longer exists because you no longer exist as this person." He ripped pages out one at a time and dropped them on the ground. He took a knife from his belt and sliced out the computer chip from the back cover. He placed it on a metal stand behind him. A man standing there swung a huge metal mallet. It crushed the chip and rang out with a loud metal thud -- the same sound I had heard earlier -- probably Joyce's passport being destroyed.
"I am going to give you your due now. You need to lose that anger. You will thank me one day for turning you into a real woman." He pulled a leather strap that was wound around his belt and looked at me. "American bitch, welcome to your new world."

He walked behind me and slapped my back with the belt. I cried out in pain. He swung it again. Crack! I screamed. He swung it again. I cried, "Please, don't whip me anymore." Crack! I began to cry. Crack, again! "Please stop, please." My back was stinging all over. The next swat hit my butt cheeks. "Ohhh, no, please." After that I couldn't get any more words out. I do not know how many times he laid the belt on my back. I was limp in my bonds, my head hung down and I sniffled and groaned. My back and butt were sore from the whipping. Molodin walked away and out of sight.

I had imagined being beaten before. I had not fully understood the pain and humiliation of being treated this way. And yet, I did not hate them or even hate where I was. How could I think this way?

Two men came over and unbound my hands from the shackles. One of them grabbed me by the shoulders while the other slipped down and took my feet and, between them, they picked me up and carried my limp body. They carried me around a corner in the courtyard to a strange looking seat. They tossed me into it and strapped me in. My bound ankles were spread widely apart below me with a wooden shaft behind each knee to keep my thighs horizontal. My back was still stinging as it rested on a plank. My wrists were bound behind me and below straight down so that I could not raise myself up. They wrapped a belt tightly around my belly. There was nothing behind my head. I looked around. To my far right I saw Joyce standing with two other girls. They were all fitted with wooden bridle gags just like I had worn earlier. Joyce had a collar with chains linking her on either side to the other two. All three were naked with their hands bound behind their back. Each had a sullen look. The other two were darker in skin color and I assumed they were locals who had been captured by Molodin and his comrades.

I looked straight ahead of me and saw a large vessel containing embers burning red. There were several black steel shafts sticking out of the furnace. One of the men standing by the vessel drew one of the shafts out. It was smoldering. I gasped. It was a branding iron. I pulled on the restraints. I could not move. He walked over to my left side. I cried, "Keep away from me," and twisted myself trying to get out of the restraints. I could barely move at all. I screamed, "Don't touch me. Get away." He placed his left hand on my thigh just above the knee and pressed it down. He pushed the brand onto my left thigh about one third the way from my hip and held it there for about one second. I screamed and then passed out.

The next thing I knew I was wet. Someone had just thrown water on my face. I looked up. My thigh was throbbing with pain. Another man was there rubbing the brand with a green gelatinous ointment.

Several men began removing my restraints. The one who released my right hand placed a collar on me and a short leash and stood beside me. Two other men stood me up and bound my hands behind my back; then the man holding the leash pulled it, and with it me, over to the other three girls. I limped as he pulled me. He added me to their links. My thigh hurt. I looked down at it. There was a two-inch red circle with some sort of character inside. I did not recognize or understand the symbol's meaning. There was no scar or swelling. The brand looked just like a tattoo. Perhaps the ointment made that so. It still throbbed and was very uncomfortable. I could not help but stare at it. Even though I did not understand its exact meaning, I fully understood its significance. This was a marking; it was a marking of ownership. It identified each of us as property. The process to apply the mark was well-defined and organized. There was no emotion or anger on the part of the men who did this. It was daily business.

Two more girls were added to our links. We all heard the whippings and witnessed the brandings. I watched them writhe in pain as the branding iron was pressed into their thighs. It struck me the same way as when I watch Joyce being whipped. The sensation of someone being controlled by someone else was strong and was pulling on my senses. One of those last two girls was another white girl. The second girl was black. I had no idea who either girl was. We were all gagged. I glanced at Joyce. She looked pained from the branding and whipping. Her demeanor was also different. She had her head bowed just a bit, and she looked up at the men who were around us.

6 -- Going through the Waterfall

Once we were all linked together, one of the men shouted out to another man through a gate behind us. He came in, pulled the first girl with the rest of us following in turn. He attached another chain to her collar and attached the other end to a strap wrapped around his horse; he mounted the horse and made some command that started the horse walking slowly with us following in step behind.

We continued on down a path along the stream. We could hear a rumbling noise up ahead. We walked for a couple of miles or so deeper into the woods; the stream flowed into a small river and just ahead of us was a waterfall. The path led down to a crevice aside the river. The man on the horse followed that path. When we got to the bottom there was a small opening under the rocks. The man dismounted the horse, detached the chain from the horse and pulled us ahead. There was an opening in the rock by the water fall where the water was falling straight down. He walked right through the water pulling us behind him through the cascade. We entered a darker cavern on the other side about ten yards long. You never would have known it was there. We walked through another cascade of water on the other side of the small cavern.

When we walked out of the water the second time we saw a vast valley ahead of us. Far in the distance was a town. We could barely see wisps of smoke from fires in the village. The mist from the waterfall wafted over the entire valley producing an eerie and haunted look. It was a bright day and warm, but you could not see the sun or the clouds or even the mountain tops due to the mist. It was a peculiar transition we had just made. I looked around behind me. There was a large rock wall. I could not see the woods or the old stone courtyard where we had stood. The terrain was quite different. The valley was surrounded by sheer cliffs for as far as the eye could see.

Another man was standing by the waterfall waiting for us. He was dressed nicely but plainly. The man who had pulled us through the waterfalls had clothes that were a bit tattered and worn. The man who met us looked like a person with some importance or authority. He had two horses. The first girl was attached to a horse just as before. The new man mounted that horse and began to lead us in tow into the valley. The man who had brought us here mounted the other horse and followed behind us. Neither of the men spoke or even gave us any attention whatsoever.

7 -- Determining a Price

Just below the water fall/cavern we made a stop at a rancid water hole. We were allowed to relieve ourselves there. We had to be careful squatting over the water hole. It was awful. We were pulled another hundred yards or so ahead and came to a watering hole. The second man pulled our gags out and said, "Drink up, the next water is seven miles hence. No talking."

We all knelt (our hands were still bound) and lapped up the water. It was cool and delicious. Joyce leaned over and whispered, "Ann, are you okay?" The first man walked up quickly, took a leather strap off his belt and swatted Joyce's bottom squarely. She yelped and looked back at him. The second man yelled, "I said no talking. The next violation will result in more severe punishment." Joyce sank back down and looked at me. I raised my eyebrows not wanting to gain any undue attention from the men. How easily these men attended to us. For them, the slaps, the whippings, and the brandings: these were not torture to them, rather these were cultural necessities of their everyday lives. I was trying to understand the dominating nature of the men. Was it reserved for women like us -- those being taken to the slave market? Or was this universal for all the women in this society?

We walked on a path through wheat and barley fields. I imagined that a master was going to buy me at the slave market, take me to his hovel and ravish me until he was exhausted. He would sleep it off, then come at me again. Our treatment at the courtyard had been mechanical. We were just a marketable commodity. I was afraid. My dream was being altered. I wanted a man who would make me his woman. I felt like I was on a path leading to utter humiliation and abuse. Was my dream to be replaced by these anxious fears?

We made it to the next watering hole at sunset. We refreshed ourselves again and sat in the grass next to the water. Oddly, the air temperature did not change appreciably as it got darker. The two men made a small fire and roasted some sort of food, which they ate. When they were done, they got up and fed us from a stick of some brown taffy looking substance. It was spicy and the small piece they broke off and fed me completely satisfied my hunger. We were made to lie down on our bellies; they hog-tied each of the non-Arabic girls. They dragged the two local girls over a few feet on the other side of the fire and took them both from behind. We heard the girls moaning and the men breathing hard as they shot their juice into the girls. Then they brought them back over and hog-tied them with the rest of us. Amazingly, these men can take freely of a woman so nonchalantly.

Sleeping hog-tied was not comfortable, but I was so tired I did eventually fall asleep. Suddenly it was daylight again, and the first man was kicking me to get up. We were all lined up and attached to the horse. Thus we were to continue our journey.

About an hour later we stopped. The man who had joined us at the waterfall looked at us and started to talk, "Shortly, we will reach the slave market. I have the duty of placing a starting purchase price on each of you. We took care of the locals earlier, now I must complete my task with each of you." He then unchained Joyce and took her behind the rocks. I heard some commotion and, I suspect, Joyce moaning as he determined her sale price. Fifteen minutes later they were back. Joyce looked like she had been drugged. Her eyes were glazed and she was unsteady as she walked.

It was my turn next. The man grabbed me under my shoulder and pulled me back behind the rocks. He calmly told me, "Bend over." He grabbed my bound hands with one hand and lifted them up, and pushed on the back of my neck with his other hand. "Spread your legs." I moved them apart. "Wider," he snapped. I moved them apart even further. "Now hold still and this will not take long." He ran his fingers down my butt crack and between my legs. He began massaging my pussy. I melted in ecstasy. I gyrated my hips as he continued to massage me. This went on for three or four minutes. The sensation was incredible even though I tried my best to suppress it. He stopped, moved in behind me and I felt him push his member inside me. I moaned in delight. He was still holding my hands up behind me forcing me to stay bent over. His other hand he placed on my butt cheek and he slowly moved his manhood in and out of me. I groaned with pleasure. The more he pumped me, the more I sunk into the sensations he sent through my body. I do not know how long it lasted, but he finally sped up and increased the power of his pumping and his shaft quivered. I did not feel much juice inside me though. Perhaps he had used it all with Joyce. I nearly collapsed. He dragged me in a half-stupor back to the others and reconnected the chains to my collar. It took several minutes for my head to clear. I did not understand. I was just raped and it was the most spectacular sexual encounter I had ever had. No man I had ever been with before had been able to bring out these sensations in me. These were alien thoughts for me. Relative to where I had come from, the men of this world easily took control of their women.

The man took the last two back behind the rock and brought them back in the same giddy condition. Then it was time to start walking again.

By the early afternoon we reached the town we had seen when we passed through the waterfall. It was old looking. There was nothing really modern in sight. It had dirt streets. The kids ran around barefoot. There were pack animals everywhere and the women were buying food in the outdoor markets. There were several small sandy-yellow buildings and dozens of small huts in all directions. The streets were narrow and windy. We walked through toward the center of the town. No one took notice of us. We were a train of six naked women chained together. How common was this occurrence that it could become just a day-to-day event?

8 -- On the Platform

Our caravan stopped in front of a fenced-in area with a large iron gate. We were unchained from the horse and pulled inside. The floors were marble and cool on my feet. We were in a large hall. There were arched doorways all around the hall and a balcony running around the perimeter of the room. Silk curtains hung from the openings on the upper level.

An attendant came to meet us and said, "Welcome to Hordron. You have come to the main city in the region for the buying and selling of slaves. You look to be a fine lot and will bring in much money. We will clean you up and prepare you. The main sale will be tomorrow. You must be ready for there is excitement about non-locals being up for sale." Joyce and I looked at each other. I still could not believe we were here.

We were taken to separate quarters or, more accurately, kennels. We were hosed down and given some food and water to fill us. The building housing the kennels was then locked up and was totally dark. I was scared but I was so tired I fell asleep quickly.

I awoke before the sun came up. Three young girls came to my kennel and took me to a large room in the same building. They primped me and combed out my hair. They trimmed my nails. The only thing they did not do was offer me any clothes. These were the first females that I had been close to in this valley. They walked stiffly and with heads bowed. They went about their business. In contrast to the men who freely took for themselves, these women were slow and careful. One of them attached a leash to my collar. Then we waited.

About twenty minutes later a man came for me. He barked some command to the girls and they hurriedly left with their heads bowed. He pulled my leash and led me out through a courtyard. There were several tables, there were posts that had pegs and holes in them, and there was a ten foot wall on the opposite side. We walked past these and went around the wall to a large platform. There were several girls already kneeling at the side of the platform. I could see Joyce in the group. On the other side of the platform was a large crowd of people, mostly men. I was set at the end of the group on the right hand side near Joyce.

A well-dressed Arab stood walked onto the platform and the crowd began to jeer. It was Molodin. He looked like a pimp. A thought struck me; maybe he was in a sense. He spoke some unintelligible words. One of the guards pulled one of the girls from the other side of the group and took her up on the stage. Molodin, who apparently was the auctioneer, turned her around so the crowd could take a look at her assets. Then the bidding started. It seemed quite vigorous to me. I could not understand anything that anyone was saying. Suddenly, there was a cheer; a burly man walked up to the platform and he pulled the slave off the platform as, presumably, he was the winning bidder.

The sale continued on in that manner until there were only four girls remaining: Joyce, the black girl, the other white girl and me. The other girls had all been locals and they had all been taken away. The other white girl (I never learned who she was) went first. The noise of the crowd was even louder during the bidding; the cheer for her buyer was louder still. Joyce went next. And the crowd noise was even more boisterous.

The black girl was next and I was left alone. I became very anxious and I did not hear the reaction for her bid. This was a slave auction. I had dreamed about being owned by a strong virile Arabian master. Had my time come? This was not exactly the way I had pictured it? It was dawning on me how this culture operated, and the roles that males and females each played. Finally, the guard came and took my leash and walked me up on the stage. Molodin looked at me and growled, "American bitch, I have been waiting for you. There is someone who is in this crowd who wishes to buy you and whip you. I will drive your price up very high. My profit today will be huge." There was noise, hands were waving, Molodin was shouting out gibberish (to me anyway) as he twirled me around to show the crowd. The bargaining began. It lasted for the better part of ten minutes. Then the big cheer came.

A large man walked up to the platform to take his prize, which was me. Molodin spoke to him briefly then looked at me. "This is a buyer; he will be transporting you to your new master. Thank you for making me a rich man, slut." The buyer pulled the leash and took me back behind the platform to the courtyard. There were several slave girls who had just been auctioned tied to posts being whipped. Several others were on their knees servicing their new masters. I wondered if this man was dragging me to either or to both. But he was in a hurry. He walked briskly and I could hardly keep up. I obediently followed.

9 -- The Lieutenant Makes an Offer

We walked past the courtyard and back out into the street. Just as before, hardly anyone gave us any notice. I did not see Joyce or the other girls. He walked on out of town in the opposite direction from where we had entered the day before. We walked for about an hour before resting at another watering hole. He sat by the watering hole and motioned for me to drink. I bent down and lapped up some water. He was watching me closely as I drank. He made me nervous. He had not acted with the type of authority I had become accustomed to. He was even docile to some extent. I lapped up some more water, and then I sat opposite him in the short stubby grass next to a small plant. He drank water with his hands, and wiped some water on his face.

After resting for a few minutes, I heard some sounds but could not make them out. They got closer. My buyer stood and looked off in the distance. There were three riders on horseback riding toward us from Hordron. They rode up to us, stopped and dismounted. The one who appeared to be the leader talked to the buyer. The discussion got heated. They went back and forth for several minutes before the buyer raised his hand and stopped speaking. The leader took out a bag that appeared to hold some coins and handed it to the buyer. He looked inside the bag, tied it back up, looked over at me and said something I could not understand, and then he walked off back in the direction of the city mumbling to his self. It would appear that I have been bought again. And this time by a handsome soldier.

The leader came over to me and said, "Are you Ann McDonald?"

He said my name. I was unable to speak.

He repeated, "Are you Ann McDonald?"

I looked at him for another second before stuttering a response, "Yes, yes, I am Ann McDonald. Who are you?"

"We have not yet found your companion. I am a lieutenant for the sultan's body guard. He had sent us to buy you at the auction today. Unfortunately, we were detained and arrived late. We were able to track you down and made a generous offer to buy you from that man who just left."
I got a bit brazen and replied, "I was the last slave sold. He waited for me and must have paid a good price. How did you convince him to turn around and sell me?"

"You are impertinent, as I was told." I looked at him in surprise. Who had he been talking to? "I know who you are Ann McDonald. Now, come with us. Your status has not changed that much. You are still a slave, only you now belong to the sultan. His offered that man a modest profit. Had the man not accepted, we would have executed him and saved the sultan some gold coins. As it turned out, he found the offer to be attractive enough not to have us resort to drastic measures. Of course, his overseer may be angry at the loss of such a prize as you (he appeared to say that with some sarcasm), but he may be able to lose himself somewhere in this valley and live a very comfortable existence." He looked at me. His emotions had not wavered since he had ridden in. I was still naked, collared and leashed. He turned around and said, "Mossif, bring Ann McDonald a cloak to wear while we travel back to the compound." Mossif brought a robe forward and wrapped it around me. He pulled the leash away and around so that it was still attached and outside the robe. He pulled me over to his horse and attached it to the saddle. The three men mounted their horses. I stood there trying to act defiant. "Ann McDonald, your status is unchanged. Would you rather come with us as the slave that you are? Or do I have to resort to drastic measures? Consider that you are chained to a horse that can move much more swiftly than you. And we do not want to keep the sultan waiting."

I breathed a sign of surrender. "You've made me an offer I can't refuse, just like my former owner. I accept your kind offer, lieutenant." That was sarcasm. He did not flinch. He intrigued me with his aura of authority. He was quiet and unemotional, but he still had a command over me that I was trying to deflect with a teenage-esqe attitude.

"Excellent choice," he replied. He looked over at Mossif, "She is ready to go." Mossif pulled the leash and pulled me toward him. He grabbed my arm and helped me climb up on the horse behind him. He held the leash over his shoulder. We began to ride off in the direction opposite of which they came. Not another word was spoken by anyone. The road was very nice, but we saw no other travelers. We passed a dozen or so huts and saw some farmers out herding goats and tending to gardens. This road ran very close to the sheer cliff that delineated one side of the valley. I looked up and could not see the summit for the heavy mist that moved over the entire valley. A great sense of isolation came over me.

We rode for an hour until we reached a watering hole. There were two small pools of water. The horses drank from one pool and the men drank from the other. I knelt down to drink with the men when the lieutenant spoke, "You may not drink at this pool, slave. Go over there and drink with the horses."

I stared at him in disbelief. "Are you serious?" My rebellious attitude was in full bore.

"Ann McDonald," he replied sternly, "Do not test my patience." Finally, a show of emotion. He walked over grabbed my arm and dragged me to the pool with the horses. He ripped the cloak off of me and threw it aside. He pushed me down on my knees. He took hold of my arm and forced my head underwater with his other hand and held me there. I struggled to get up but his strength was too much for me to overcome. He pulled me up and I gasped for air. He dunked me again and I struggled again. He pulled me up once again. He let go of my hair and stood. "Now, Ann McDonald, American bitch, do you wish to test me again?"

I was gasping for air and said, "No, you are right. Please do not do that again. I beg you." It was exhilarating to be held down by a man. He was not intending to harm, but to scare some sense into me. I could tell that intuitively. I was excited and anxious about what he would do next.

"Ann McDonald. I have every right to whip you right now. You have challenged a man and a soldier. The penalty for that violation is severe." He is going to whip me?

I looked over at the other two men. They were sitting by the other pool chatting and totally oblivious to what was going on over here. The lieutenant grabbed my hair from behind me and swung me around. He pulled his member from out of his pants and pushed it into my mouth. He moved quickly and I had no time to resist. I did not even want to resist. I wrapped my lips around it and begin to suck. I moved my tongue up and down and around and pleasured him as tenderly as I could. He was moving my head back and forth slowly. I began to feel the sensations that I had felt before with the slave trader. He pushed me to take him into my mouth deeper and deeper attempting to touch my nose to his skin. I looked up at him. He was staring at me with no emotion. I continued sucking and licking. This went on for another ten minutes or so when he withdrew from me pulling my head back. I groaned. I looked at him wanting to continue. I did not speak but opened my mouth and moved toward him. I was so overcome with his command of me. I continued to marvel at the freedom the men had and the impact they imparted on me.

He moved away from me, turned to the other soldiers and said, "It is time for us to move on. Mossif, you two go on. We will follow behind you. Inform the sultan that I am travelling a few leagues behind you." Mossif nodded without comment, and they both mounted their horses and left.

The lieutenant watched them ride off. He turned back to me and said, "Ann McDonald, slave, bend over and touch your forehead to the ground." I quickly followed his orders. He placed his hands on the each side of my hips. He pressed his manhood into me. The effect was the same as when the slave trader took me. I drifted off into ecstasy as the lieutenant moved in and out of me. He continued pumping me until he finally shot his load inside me. He squeezed out all of his juice into me and he squeezed my hips together to keep it inside me. He pulled his cock back and buttoned up his pants. I was an exclusive play-thing for him. It was pleasant to have a man use me in such a way. I enjoyed the power he used to make me serve him.

"Ann McDonald, you have learned to be a slave slut in a very short period of time. Do not fight it. The sultan will enjoy using you. Now, if you please, let us finish our trip back to the compound. It will be dark soon and the bandits will be out." He mounted his horse and pulled me up behind him. The cloak stayed on the ground. He took me to the compound naked and still reeling from our sexual encounter. I think I may have been raped, but my mind was so foggy, it was hard to tell. I leaned on his back as we rode off. He was a man.

10 -- Meeting the Sultan

We came upon a large stand of trees. The lieutenant said, "Ann McDonald, the compound is near. Please clear you head. You will be meeting the sultan soon."

"Will the sultan be mad that you raped me?" Maybe I had an angle here.

"Do not be insulting. Had I bought you at the sale, I had the authority to whip you and to have you service me in the courtyard. That is standard when purchasing a slave. You earned another whipping by your insolence on the trail, twice. You should be thankful that your back has not been striped again. I can assure you, the sultan will not allow you such latitude as I have today."

I was thankful I had not been whipped. I should have known better. We approached the compound. It was surrounded by a large wall. The structure was impressive but not overly ornate. We rode through the gate and to the palace entrance. The lieutenant let me down from the horse and rode off. A guard walked toward me, took my leash and said, "Follow me. The sultan is waiting for you."

We walked inside. I, of course, was walking behind the guard. The hallway was long and dark. I could not see the end of the hallway. We went past several large rooms before he took me inside a smaller room with several couches and chairs. It was dark, too. There was a man sitting in the rear of the room on a large sofa. He rose and said, "Thank you, guard. You may leave." The guard bowed and walked back out of the room.

"Ann McDonald, welcome to my palace. Kneel," he ordered. I did so. "I am your master. I am the Sultan Omar Amman. You probably have some questions. You have permission to speak freely."

My jaw dropped. I could not speak. That name. Was he, a sultan, the sultan, the one who sponsored our trip?

He continued, "You are acquainted with Kosi Amman. She is my daughter and the slave of the lieutenant who, I was told, took you during your trip here to the palace." Kosi is a slave, I thought? "Do not look puzzled. For centuries men in my position have used wives and daughters to form strategic alliances. Just the fact that this is the twenty-first century does not change that fact of life."

"Kosi is a recruiter and a good one. She found that you and your friend were just gullible and stupid enough to come on a trip like this. Why has it not occurred to you that you have never seen the men on this trip? Did it occur to you that they were just a diversion, and that they are not a part of this story? Yours and your friend's destinies are being played out here and now. Kosi is an effective agent for me. You and your friend are now trapped here in our land as slaves, where you will be required to serve your masters. It is not such a bad thing for you. You seem to have enjoyed your intimate encounters up to this point, have you not? You call them rape. But, in contrast, you have struggled to suppress the pleasing sensations you felt during these events. Do you not want to know why you are having these sensations? Have these thoughts not crossed your mind as you travelled across this vast valley?"

I was not going to fall for that. I put on the attitude again. "I was raped -- twice - period. Someone will have to answer to that. I am an American citizen. Don't you expect someone will be looking for us? They will know we are missing. They are probably searching now."

"Do you remember the water fall you walked through following your capture? You entered a valley that is unknown to the outside world. The water in that river has a unique concentration of minerals. The mist that comes off that water falls covers this valley and produces a mirage of sorts that hides us from the outside world. Perhaps you googled this area before you travelled. It shows only mountains. As far as the outside world is concerned, you have travelled with your friends past here and further into the upper Middle East. Your train reservations were never cancelled. There is poor record keeping on travel. When your train left, the assumption is that you were on the train."

I looked at him in disbelief. I had searched a map online before we left. I was looking for the Aqobon Oasis. It was at the end of a large and otherwise uninteresting mountain range. It was true that I had seen nothing but mountains where this large valley lay. "How can it be?"

He continued, "The other more significant consideration for you is this: You cannot leave this valley again. The only exit is the waterfall wherein you entered. The mountain walls surrounding this valley could only be scaled by a professional mountain climber. We have no such person here. Mountain climbing is not a profession that an Arab typically seeks. In the unlikely event that you escape a master, you would be enslaved one hundred times before you made it a mile from your starting point. You are an outsider. Men here crave non-Arabic women; to find one alone would be a very fortunate circumstance for some peasant. Accept your fate Ann McDonald. This life is the only hope you have for survival at this point, but it is a life that you have had thoughts about already, being ruled over by a man."

I wanted to avoid that topic because I knew it was true. I yearned to be owned by a man. "Do you know what happened to Joyce? She is my friend."

"She will be here soon. My men were detained and did not make it to the auction in time as you know. She was taken by a new buyer from the far edge of the valley. But do not despair. My men will locate her and bring her here. You have probably realized that they are, too, under orders to bring her back just as they did you. I brought you both here as a set. My needs for you both are definite and substantial."

He was speaking in riddles now, and he was wearing me down, "What is the meaning of the symbols on this brand?" I pointed to my leg.

"You have been marked with the identification of a pleasure slave. Whoever your master happens to be, your duty is to please him by any measure he deems necessary. Your one and only option is to serve him immediately, without question and to the utmost."

It sounded delightful, but I did not want to sound like I had already surrendered. "How can you justify kidnapping girls and enslaving them?"

"Do not make me laugh, Ann McDonald. You and your friend have freely given of yourselves to morons and weaklings. You yourself envisioned yourself in the hands of an Arab master many times. It is a dream you had that is now unfolding before your very eyes. You now have the opportunity to enjoy the benefits of life in this valley. Do not lie to me; you were enraptured by several men on your way to this palace, were you not? Their touch was enough to elicit a pleasing sensation. That was not coincidence. You might call it rape. But the men of this valley have great talents when it comes to the needs of women. Your dream and their capabilities are a match that you are likely not to find anywhere else. Your quest is to reach that man destined for you. As you have seen, men proudly take the role of authority in this land. The woman is a useful and desirable property. The slave auctions are rowdy and large sums of money are exchanged. In the end, the masters leave with the bounty that is a woman slave. This is your dream, Ann McDonald. You are living it."

He was right, but I was not ready to admit it. "I'd never had those sensations before." I slipped a little bit there and revealed a degree of surrender. I knew it was a mistake.

"Remember. I am the sultan. You will be tested soon. My only requirement is your total submission. You allowed a degree of that with my lieutenant. My requirements will be much deeper. Your destiny awaits you."

I felt a rush come over me that I could not understand or resist. I spread my knees and bowed my forehead to the floor. "Master, I am yours to command. Please forgive me, a stupid slut." I could not help myself. He could see through me. Had I finally found the man I had been searching for? It did not feel quite right. But, would it be my choice when the time came?

11 -- The Bedchamber Visit

"Very good, Ann McDonald." He clapped his hands. A maid servant walked in. "Take this slave to her quarters. Remove the bindings from her hands. Give her a good bath. The road has been dusty. Give her a slave cloak. I will return to her later." The maid bowed. She walked over and took my leash and led me away.

We walked further into the building and turned into a small bedroom. She did as the sultan ordered and left me. I sat at the bureau looking in the mirror. The slave cloak was a diaphanous skirt too short to cover either my belly or my butt. There was a strip of diaphanous material that went around the back of my neck with either end going down my chest, covering my breasts and attaching to the skirt at a single point below my belly button.

I admired myself in the mirror. I liked the way I looked. This was a good outfit to have to stand before a man. I moved my hips back and forth and ran my hands up and down my side in Mid-Eastern dance moves. I felt a light headedness and closed my eyes; I twirled and arched my back backwards and pushed my breasts out in abandon. Suddenly, a voice spoke out, "Very nice, slave." It was the sultan.

I was startled. "How long have you been here?" I had no idea he was there. I was ready to give him whatever he wanted. If he was the man I had been waiting for, I wanted him to know from the outset that I was the woman for him. I would do whatever I could. Why else would he be in my room?

He ignored my question and walked toward me from the door. I stood frozen. He walked around me and came up behind me putting his hands on my bare waist. He ran his hands up my side. My knees began to buckle. When he got to my shoulders he moved his hands forward and massaged my breasts. He pinched each of my nipples which were, by this time, hard and jutting out. He took one hand and lifted the strip around my neck over my head and let it drop in front of me. The whole outfit fell to the floor. I spun around, knelt and tried to find his member.

He un-did some buttons and out it came. I began licking it with my tongue so gently. I was fading into that cloud of ecstasy that I had felt before. I started to suck him moving my lips and tongue over him. I went back and forth slowly. I looked up at him. He met my gaze and spoke, "Crawl on your hands and knees over to the bed and climb on it. Lie on your back and spread your legs as wide as you can." As soon as the words were out of his mouth I moved. He walked around the bed as I held that position. I was afraid that as soon as he touched me I would explode. He climbed onto the bed and inserted himself into me. I groaned with excitement. He pulled my ankles up over his head and began to pump me with his member. I was groaning and barely knew where I was. After some time, and I do not know how long, he turned me over and pulled my hips up. He moved behind me and pulled my hips back. I slid right over his huge cock. I started grinding on his member. Again, I do not know how long this went on. My mind was so foggy I did not understand anything other than I did not want to stop. He pulled out of me, pulled my hair to get my face in front of him. He stuck his cock into my mouth and started streaming his juice into my mouth. I swallowed it all.

I had not ever surrendered to a man so quickly and easily. The way he could dominate me was almost scary. He hardly had to do anything; I was anticipating his wishes -- I intuitively knew what had to be done at almost every instant. It was becoming so real.

We both lay down exhausted. He looked at me and simply said, "You must be tired. Try to get some sleep." With that I was out. His command over me was incredible.

When I awoke it was morning; I saw him standing by the bureau fully dressed. He began to leave the room. I could not let him go like this; my humility toward him had not been complete. I cried out, "Master, please wait so I can properly say goodbye to you."

He stopped and looked at me. I climbed out of bed onto the floor. I crawled over to him, leaned up in front of him and began licking his crotch. I found the buttons and unbuttoned them this time and quickly pulled out his cock. I began sucking. I sucked and licked. He finally gushed into my mouth. When it was done, I looked up at him and meekly asked, "Master, have I served you well?"

"Slut, you have learned well the ways of a pleasure slave." He clapped his hands. Out of nowhere appeared a maid servant. He told her, "Please take care of this slut. I will be out for a while. She has had a busy few days and needs some rest." He turned back to me, "Slut, your audition this morning has been noted." I did not quite understand what he was saying. Was there a 'yes' in that response? Was he playing on my emotions by being vague? He could have any woman he wanted at the snap of a finger. Yet, he specifically said he wanted Joyce and me here -- as a set, he had said. I would like to speak with Joyce and find out what had been happening to her. Why were we the ones he sought after? He walked out of the room and I did not see him for the rest of the day.
12 -- The Contraption

The next morning, the maid servant came back to my room and escorted me to another room down the corridor. The only thing in the small room was a contraption that looked like a saw horse. The maid servant spoke, "Climb on to the device. There are anklets on the near side. The stocks on the other side are for your hands and neck. I will attach those. You will then wait here for further instructions." I climbed onto the device. The anklets were far apart and made me stretch my legs wide open. That exposed my backside to the door. I bent over flat on the bench part. My breasts hung down on either side of the bench. I placed my neck and wrists into the stocks. The maid servant lowered the upper section of the stocks and locked them into place. The device had my behind a bit higher in the air than my head. The maid servant checked each restraint. She walked around to my head and installed a gag. It was a large wooden ball with a strap that wrapped around my neck. With that, she walked out of the room and closed the door.

After about twenty minutes I heard the door open. Someone walked in and closed the door. Whomever it was, stood quietly for another minute or two. Then he spoke, "Good morning, bitch." It was the sultan. I heard him walk up behind me. He began caressing my butt cheeks and slid down to my exposed pussy and massaged it. I wiggled my rear and moaned. "Excellent, you are quick to the touch." He then ground his fingers into my pussy. I jumped. He twisted it with his fingers and I jerked on the device unable to move much, save just enough to wiggle around.

He walked around in front of me. He was only wearing long black pants with no shirt. I was dazzled. He pulled his member from his pants, pulled the gag from my mouth and inserted his manliness into my mouth. He was holding my hair and pumping my mouth very slowly. This went on for a while when he suddenly pulled out and replaced the gag. He walked quickly behind me and inserted there, and started pumping. Again, he went very slowly. The entire room went fuzzy as I rocked back and forth in delirium. He went back and forth from my mouth to my behind. I lost track of time and of even where he was. My entire body was vibrating with pleasure. I do not know how long we had been there, but when I finally opened my eyes he was gone. I knew he had been there. The taste of his man juice was still on my tongue.

The door opened and someone walked in. "I see you have regained your senses." It was Kosi. She was here. When did she get here? Did she have some role in all this? "You have been writhing in here for thirty minutes since my father left. Most girls go about ten or so before they clear up. You have a knack for this thing. This is really a great invention, don't you think? It measures a girl's ability to fully respond to a man. The evaluation is subjective, of course. If a man likes you enough, he will test you often. You may end up being one who gets tested often. Time will tell." She paused and chuckled.

I still had the gag in my mouth, so I could not respond. She stood behind me so I could not even see her. But I could see the acrimonious grin on her face in my mind. She was the slave of the lieutenant. He was still a sweet memory in my mind. How much more so she can appreciate what he can do. But she always comes across so bitter.

Kosi continued, "The guard has located Joyce and they are bringing her here now. We should see her later today. I thought you would want to know." With that, she walked out. After all of those thoughts, she says something nice. Or was it meant to be nice?

The maid servant came in and unbound me and helped me back to my room. I lay down on the bed and fell asleep for a short morning nap. Later in the day, the maid servant returned to feed me and helped me bathe. I spent the rest of the afternoon in my room listening to music that was being played somewhere outside the compound. It was soothing. I pondered the events of the last few days: captured, whipped, branded, auctioned, sold again, tested, and now laying in a bed in the sultan's palace. And yet I still felt incomplete.

That evening, I was summoned to dine with the sultan and Kosi. The meal was mostly spent in silence with a minimal amount of small talk. The sultan was distracted by something and Kosi was hesitant to break his train of thought. We talked about the hazy mist in the valley. We talked about the fresh vegetables from the palace garden. We talked about the new horses that the sultan had just purchased. I wanted to ask about Joyce, but Kosi looked sternly at me every time I even looked like I was going to speak. I went back to my room and, even though it was early in the evening, I went to bed and slept.

13 -- Selected

The next morning Kosi and the maid servant were both in my room to awaken me. Kosi said, "You must get ready, you are going for a ride back to the south. My father will explain." I left the room a few minutes later with Kosi and we walked down the corridor.

We stopped at the room with the contraption. Kosi looked at me and said, "Wait here." She peered through a peep hole in the door then walked back to me. "It will be a few more minutes. Please be silent." A few minutes later the door opened. The sultan walked out. He saw me and Kosi and motioned for us to come in.

"Shh," he said. We walked through the door. A girl was in the device and was gyrating in every possible angle and direction. I looked closely into the dark. It was Joyce. She looked beautiful stretched out like that. Her nipples were firm. And she was rotating her ass. I could hear her smacking her lips around her gag. I am sure she had no idea we were there. I knew exactly how she felt (after all, I was the last one who had been in the contraption). The sultan motioned us out of the room.

"What do you think?" Kosi asked the sultan earnestly.

"She is another outstanding slave. You have done well Kosi." The he looked at me. "Ann McDonald, your friend Joyce is on the device and is likely to be in delirium for another hour. For that reason you cannot talk to her. I have decided that she will be remaining here with me. I can assure you, it was a decision that was made after much deliberation. The events in this room only confirmed that the correct choice had been made. However, before you get too upset, this is as it has been destined. Your master is now waiting for you back at the slave market. He has already negotiated a generous purchase price for you. In reality, we had conjectured that this was the way it would be from the beginning. Your new master is fully suited to subjugate a specimen as you." I am not a specimen; I am a slave.

Kosi interjected sarcastically, "You stupid American bitch. You have finished second to Joyce once again." I looked at her with some fury.

The sultan looked at me and said, "Be careful, you are in the presence of my daughter and a member of the royal house." I looked down at the floor and hid my emotions the best I could. The sultan snapped back at Kosi, "Silence. Go outside and wait with the others." She walked away from us hurriedly. He looked at me again, "Your new master is the one that Kosi has recommended. Kosi really does have your best interests in mind. She knows you better than you might think. She knows your dream." How can that be? "She knows who you are and what you are. She has no patience with Western culture -- the men are weak and live in equality with women. That is foreign to her. She, like you, appreciates and honors the dominant nature of a good master. You had a brief experience of her master's power. This power is hers. Ignore her angry comments."

"Thank you, master. I will serve any master I am given without reservation." I really meant that. I knew that this was not where I was going to end this journey. I do not know where that would be, but I was certain. My instincts were very strong about this.

"Very well. Kosi and my guard are assembled outside. They will escort you back to Hordron. Your master is waiting there for you. Leave me now. We will meet again -- I know that is certain."

I bowed, turned and walked away.

14 -- The Journey Complete

When I got outside, Kosi handed me a cloak. "Wear this, by order of the sultan," she snapped at me angrily. I put it on quickly. She was the lieutenant's woman. I, from my brief experience, knew what she had. I was jealous to find the man who would own me and my innermost being just the way that he owned her.

Kosi climbed onto the lieutenant's horse with him, her master. She rested her head on his back. Mossif motioned me to come over and helped me onto his horse. We rode out of the compound.

Later that day we rode into Hordron. As we entered the town, we stopped at a livery and quartered the horses. The lieutenant approached me and said, "Remove the cloak." I took it off and handed it to him. "Turn around." I did so; he bound my hands with a leather cord. "Face me." I turned back around and he placed a ball gag in my mouth and attached a leash to my collar.

We started walking into town and toward the slave market. The lieutenant was pulling me on the leash. We walked past the platform and turned into the courtyard. There was a lot of activity. An auction was in progress. Molodin was on the stage showing off his wares to the anxious customers. In the courtyard, there were several slave girls being whipped and others servicing their masters in the courtyard, just as the last time I was here. We weaved through them and approached a lone figure at the far corner. I looked to see my new master. I froze in my tracks. My eyes could not believe what they saw. It was Akim, from class. This was extraordinary.

Kosi looked toward Akim and then back at me and said, "Look American bitch. Five men travelled with us. Three of them went on to central Asia to colonies similar to the one you see here. They knew this trip was a hoax. They had no use for you or for your friend. But they are now masters to lowly sluts like you. Professor Harkins went back to school. He will summon me again in the future when he gets another candidate or two in his class, and I will bring another stupid slut here for training. As for Akim, the one you tried to seduce, he is now your master. He had come to school late in the term when I told him I had found someone who would pique his interest. You had potential but had many personality characteristics that had to be dealt with. He paid a steep price for you, but he is willing to turn you into a woman. He is sickened by your arrogance and the way you toy with men. He is an excellent master and he will train you well. And I am happy, because I know he will use his whip with great effect to remove your arrogant tongue and your rebellious attitude." She reached over and released my leash. "Go over to him bitch. He will make you a woman." She, the lieutenant and Mossif turned and walked away, leaving me there alone and still in shock. No one was around me. I was standing there. Those that had delivered me to this spot had turned and left. The one I was here to see was over in the corner of the courtyard; he was standing stoically looking at me. Was this a choice I was being allowed to make? I do not think so. I could not imagine doing anything else but what my instincts were telling me now.

I knew what needed to be done. I walked toward Akim with my head bowed; I knelt in front of the post that he stood beside. I spread my knees and pushed my belly up so it lay on the post wrapping my thighs about the post on either side. He leaned down and released my bindings. I immediately raised my arms over my head and positioned my wrists so he could restrain me. Kosi was not totally right. I did not need to be whipped. That is not what Akim was going to do. I needed to be disciplined. And I wanted Akim to do it. I could not be happier. My dream was about to come true. Akim was my new master.

Akim crossed my wrists on the back side of the post, then he secured each wrist to the opposite side small shaft sticking out of the post. I felt my breastbone pushed up against the post and my back was arched. My breasts squeezed out on either side of the post. I could not move as I was totally engaged to the post from my chest to my belly. I was sitting on my legs and feet. I bent my head around and looked up at him helplessly.

Akim put his left hand on the post and squatted down. His right hand caressed my side. I trembled at his touch. He whispered into my ear, "Ann McDonald, congratulations, you have captured my attention after so many previous failures. Only now, I will be the one who dictates the terms of our relationship. When we are finished here, we will go to my cottage in the eastern foothills. There you will clean and cook for me, you will bathe me, you will attend to me in every conceivable way and you will serve me with immediacy, without question and to the utmost." I nodded my head. Ironically, it did not matter. I no longer had a choice. My destiny was upon me just as the sultan had predicted. I would clean; I would cook; I would bathe him; I would attend to him in every conceivable way; I would serve him immediately, without question and to the utmost. There could be no other way. I had dreamed this dream for so long, it was difficult to comprehend that it was now a reality.

Akim moved his hand down onto my right butt cheek and then slid his fingers down my crack. Quickly, he pushed a finger into my bung hole and forced it in so far I could feel his knuckles. I squealed through the gag. Akim spoke more forcefully, "American bitch, I am you master. Today you become my slave." He pulled his finger back out of me and stood up.

He unraveled a leather strap that had been tucked in his belt; he would be using it to discipline me. He swung the strap around and slapped my back. I screamed behind my gag. He continued quickly. Slap, slap, slap. It was so quick; I could only make muffled yelps as I caught my breath. It was over in a few moments and I hung limp on the post whimpering. My back was on fire. He knew how to perform a whipping well. He knew how to discipline an arrogant slave.

Akim took my wrists down and again bound them behind my back. He stepped away from me. I took a deep breath and tried to control my sniffling. My back was stinging. I looked up at him; I moved away from the post and crawled on my knees and knelt directly in front of him and gently burrowed my nose into his crotch. I had surrendered at long last. I knew that Akim was the master I had wanted and that I had needed. I took satisfaction that he was the one who striped my back. I looked up at him in total submission.

He pulled out his member and pulled the gag out of my mouth. I gobbled him down to the root. He reached his hand behind my head and gathered up my hair and began to move my head back and forth, pushing my nose into his skin on each stroke.

So, there I was. On my knees, naked, hands bound behind my back and the huge cock of my new Arab master in my mouth as he towered over me. In his right hand was the leather strap he had just used to whip me. My back was still stinging from the whipping. His left hand was wrapped around my long blond hair as he bobbed my head back and forth at the rhythm he demanded. I knew that in a few short minutes, he would stream a load of cum into my mouth. And, as he was a true Arabian, he would expect nothing short of my swallowing every bit of it.

And I did.

dream   comes   true  

Mar 11, 2018 in bdsm

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