Dance Of Delight

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A slave to passion, she wins freedom in her heart.
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Wrapping the silk veil tightly about her body, Shikira stepped through the curtain and positioned herself in the empty space before the tables of her lord and master, Sheik Mohammed Magma. He was young for a sheik, in his mid thirties, with the most intense eyes of any man Shikira had ever seen. He had always treated her well, better than most of his wives, setting her well above the other women of his personal harem. Shikira had to wonder if it was because she was the only member of the harem with pale skin. She was European by birth, her birthright giving her the coloration she was almost sure lay behind the sheik’s fascination.

The former Sheik, Mohammed's father, had found a tiny baby in the arms of a woman who had died huddled up in a doorway during a winter visit to London. Not having the heart to let the tiny babe suffer the same fate as her mother, he made a gift of the child to his favorite concubine, Ma-see, and smuggled the child home with him. The woman had begged him to allow her to bear him a child, but he did not want to see the body of his favorite plaything marred by the affects of childbirth, or risk her life, so he had forbidden it. The gift of the tiny baby girl made Ma-see happier then she had ever been, and the old Sheik was well pleased with how Ma-see expressed her gratitude.

When Shikira was ten, Ma-see had finally been given permission to bear the aging sheik a child. It was a decision he soon regretted, as Ma-see never lived to see the second of her twin sons take his first breath. It was said, only in rumor of course, that the old sheik died of a broken heart at the loss of his beloved Ma-see, and his estates and all they held, were passed to his oldest son, Mohammed. This, of course, included the harem and all the children borne to them, including Shikira.

She had been trained in the subtle arts of pleasuring a man from the age of thirteen, but was not introduced to her master’s bed until her eighteenth birthday. She had never had any man other than Mohammed, for it seemed he treasured her, and wished to keep her solely for himself, teaching her what he desired from her most, and pleasing her in ways she never dreamed possible. Now, at the age of twenty-two, Shikira took great pleasure in being the only woman he bedded who was not one of his wives.

Holding the soft pink veil just below her eyes, she cast her eyes along the tables, quickly settling upon the face of her beloved master. Beside him was a man she had never seen before, an English officer by his uniform, with fair hair and strangely stirring blue eyes. She had seen Englishmen before, times as troubled as these often brought men from foreign lands, but there was something about this man in particular that made her feel a little strange. It was not an uncomfortable feeling, she was more then accustomed to the eyes of men upon her body, but it was definitely different. As she watched him, waiting for the music to start, he gave her a soft smile and tipped his wineglass in her direction, a sigh of approval, and one that seemed to please her master.

As the music started, her body began to sway, ever so slightly, moving back and forward within the wrapping of the veil. Side to side, moving in a slow circle as she let the veil drop to her feet, Shikira swayed with the slow rhythm. With a sudden swish of her arm, she cast the veil aside. Moving her head in a slow circle, rolling her shoulders, she turned back to face the table, the music picking up pace a little as it penetrated her soul, and before long, she was totally absorbed, mesmerized, and one with the rhythm.

Parting her lips with a soft moan, she ran her fingers through her hair, down over her cheeks, and stroked her slender throat. Twisting her wrists, she ran her fingertips down over her chest, caressing the edges of her beaded bra, and the outer limits of her breasts. Her breath caught a little as her nipples came to life, her dark pink points pressing hard against the fabric of her bra.

With a twist of her hips, she shimmied free of her skirts, her fingers training down over her tight belly and reaching the tops of her thighs. As the music changed tempo a little, she wiggled faster, bringing her fingers back up to circle her tingling breasts. Swaying her head from side to side, hair long honey colored hair swept over her back, brushing across her face and caressing her lips. She licked them slowly, deliberately, her head thrown back a little as the music pulsed through every pore in her body.

A quick flick of her head and her hair was once again cloaking her face and breasts in a silken shield. Her hand found the clasp on her bra, and the sound of a pounding drum set her breasts free. Her slender fingers paid homage to the flesh that brought her master so much pleasure. Tiny shivers raced across her skin as she rolled her head, brushing back her hair and revealing her firm, rounded breasts for all to see. Her master's eyes were approving, and the eyes of the officer showed something she had not expected, admiration.

The song and tempo changed again, speeding up and intensifying to a sexy, almost primal, rhythm, lifting her mood to one of pure erotic fantasy. Bending, running the tips of her fingers up the full length of her long legs, she stopped to let her hands dance across the pale flesh of her thighs, over her hips and buttocks. As Shikira moved to feel the soft lace of her panties, the smooth shaved flesh beneath shivered a little with heat.

She spun gracefully about, one hand moving to gently squeeze and caress her breasts, while the other moved along her thighs, between them, over her mound and back up over her belly, only to be thrust back between her thighs once again. Gyrating her hips, grinding her pelvis, she hooked her fingers into the sides of her panties and slid them down her legs in a slow tease, only to run her fingers back up her legs and over her smooth shaved mound once again. She could see the surprise in the officer’s eyes at the sight of her naked pleasures, but it was a surprise he seemed to take delight in, and for some strange reason, Shikira took pleasure in that.

The music had filled her with lust, a need that was now amplified through her eyes, her lips, and her body. Lifting her fingers to her lips, she blew the officer a kiss. A teasing gesture that made the officer blush a little and caused Shikira to giggle under her breath. She had always know that she had an alluring power over men, it was one of the reasons her master had always requested she perform the dance of the goddess before important guests, but there was something about this particular guest that made her blood run a little hotter then normal.

The music ended in a rush, and Shikira finished her dance with rapid spinning, and falling to the floor, her arms outstretched and her breasts heaving as she caught her breath. Her audience applauded in appreciation as she rose to her feet, and backed away bowing, twirling a little as she vanished behind a curtain. Dropping to a stool, she was quickly attended by the other dancers, wiping her body with cool towels and passing her a glass of chilled fruit wine. Her skin felt hot, but it was a heat that was generated by more than the dance; it was a flame that had been fanned by the eyes of an Englishman, and continued to grow with every breath she took.

A sheer cloak was wrapped about her shoulders, and one of the others dancers whispered "The master comes." Shikira was always thrilled when he came to her right after she danced, while her body was hot and her heart was pounding, but when he arrived with the Englishman at his side, she was a little surprised and confused. No man but the Sheik was permitted beyond the curtains.

Mohammed smiled at her adoringly, reaching out to gently caress the side of her exposed cleavage. "Shikira, my sweet flower, this is Lieutenant Hudson. Tonight you will dine with him and show him all the pleasures our lands, and our home, have to offer."

Shikira's mouth visibly dropped open. Never before had he offered her to another man, and never had she imagined that he would. Had she done something to displease him? Did he not find her desirable any longer? She felt as though her heart would break. Not wanting to believe that he would ask this of her, her eyes searched his for some sigh that he would change his mind. When she saw none, she fell to her knees at his feet. "Please my Lord, I don't want to…” but before she had finished her plea, he bent over her and lifted her chin, squeezing just hard enough to make it hurt.

"Hear me Shikira, and hear me well, for I will remind you of this but once. You belong to me, and I will do with you as I will. This night it is my will that you dine with the good lieutenant, and pleasure him with all the skill and fire you have within you, or so help me, by morning you will regret every moment of your defiance. Do you understand me?" His tone of voice left no room for further pleading.

Shikira dropped to the floor, defeated, her shoulders slumped and her eyes looking only at his feet. Never before had he treated her thus, never had he reminded that she was nothing more then a possession, and never had she been so angry. It was then that she made a silent vow within her heart that her days as a slave were numbered, and she would have her freedom before the turn of the next season. As the tears flowed down her cheeks and fell silently onto the soft fabric of her cloak, she answered, "Yes, my Lord."

Without another word to her, Sheik Mohammed slapped the lieutenant on the shoulder, making some comment about keeping slaves in their proper place, and offering him another drink. She didn't lift her head to see if the Englishman was looking at her in her disgrace, but she could feel his eyes, and she flushed a little in her fury, and her shame.

Later that night, the other maidens helped her to prepare, telling her how fortunate she was that she had been chosen. She inwardly seethed. Perhaps it was her English blood, or her rebellious and possessive nature, but she would never completely submit to such treatment. Standing before the mirror, she appraised her appearance. Even to her eye, she was a beauty. Though she had never been one to take beauty for granted, she had more to offer then most of the other maidens. Perhaps this was his reasoning for lending her to the Englishman, or perhaps it was because she herself was English-born, but whatever it was, she could not find it within herself to forgive her master for treating her this way.

Standing there, clad in the robes of the people who had raised her, she wondered for a moment what she would be wearing if she were still in the country of her birth. Tilting her head to the side a little, she tried to imagine how she would look, dressed as an English Lady. The thought appealed to her, and she found a small solace in that she could question this officer about the land of her birth. She had never thought much of it before, but now she found her mind flooded with questions. Did English Ladies make love differently? Did English men, for that matter? What could this man teach her about her home? Home? She shook her head at the thought. This was her home, and it would do her no good to ever think otherwise.

Holding her head high, she took a deep breath and made her way towards the quarters that had been set aside for Lieutenant Hudson. She found him leaning against the windowsill, looking out over the vastness of the desert and the vivid glow of sunset. He was a striking figure, and being in his presence once again renewed her curiosity in England and in him. She stood silently, waiting for him to notice and acknowledge her presence.

He sighed softly, but didn’t turn to look at her. "I never tire of the beauty here, but the heat makes me long for the green meadows of England. Have you ever seen England, Shikira?"

This was not what she had expected from him, but then, she had not really known what to expect. "No." She was not sure how she should behave either. This man was obviously ignorant to the customs, and it left her a little off-balance.

His smile was soft as he held out an inviting hand to her. "Come, sweet lady. Would you join me for dinner?" His eyes sparked with emotions she could not read as he came towards her, taking her hand and leading her to the table. He pulled out her chair and offered it to her, "Ladies first."

This left Shikira more then a little baffled. Since when did a Lady come first? Was that how it was in England? Her mind began to fill with questions she dared not ask. Partly because it was not her place to ask questions, and partly because she was not sure she wanted to know the answers. She took her chair and waited for him to give her the cues she needed on what she should do next.

A eunuch entered the room, and filled both their glasses with chilled wine, then stood back silently. Lieutenant Hudson lifted his glass and proposed a toast. "To England." Shikira lifted her glass and sipped it slowly, her eyes meeting his for a moment before she looked away. Swiveling the glass in his fingers, he regarded her across the table. "Have you ever wondered about England, Shikira? Have you not had the desire to return there?"

For a moment she thought he might be mocking her. She had never been unhappy here, nor had she ever had cause to wonder about such things… until now. Still, such curiosity would do her no good, even now. "No. I have never wondered about such things." Her pride would not allow her to show the weakness of her new desire to learn. "I belong to Sheik Mohammed, his property as long as I live, so such wonderings would do me no benefit." No sooner had she made her statement then she blushed at her own boldness. If her master had heard her words, he would surely have her beaten. The Lieutenant however seemed to brighten at her courage.

"I see. Then you have no questions about the land to which you were born? Nothing I could tell you to ease your curiosity?" He could see that she burned with a million questions. She held her head high and proud, while she jittered in her seat with the impatience of a small child at Christmas, wanting desperately to unwrap every gift beneath the tree, but knowing she was not permitted to do so just yet.

Lifting her glass to her lips once more, she gave him a considering look. Could she trust this man? Or any man for that matter? She doubted it. Her beloved Mohammad had given her a lesson in the foolishness of trust only a few short hours ago. Still, she was curious, and this man did hold the key to many of the answers she now burned for. Lowering her eyes a little, she considered her answer. "As a child, I would sit and watch the scorpions make their way across the hot sands, wondering all the while what it would feel like to touch one, but knowing that to do so would only gift me with a sting that would cause great suffering, perhaps even death. This curiosity you speak of is much like the scorpion. Touching will bring me nothing but suffering, so you will forgive me if I keep my hands in my pockets, so to speak."

Her answer seemed to impress the lieutenant somewhat, and a soft smile made his face all the more handsome. "I see. Then we shall not speak of it again. I would hate to see such an enchanting beauty as yourself overcome with the trauma of such a sting. However, if you change your mind, the answers are yours for the asking. Shall we eat?"

The dinner was eaten for the most part in silence, with only the soft sounds of a lute in an adjoining room to soften the atmosphere. Once the meal was over, Lieutenant Hudson rose from his seat and went to her side. He offered her his hand. Without a word, she took it and allowed him to lead her to the window. Propping himself up on the sill, he rested her hand on his thigh, holding it there with his own. It seemed an intimate thing, and something Shikira was not altogether familiar with.

He gazed out the window, his expression almost dreamy. "As a child, I would long for nights when the sky was clear enough that I could see the stars. I would sit and gaze upon them for hours, wondering all kinds of things; posing questions I knew I would never have answers to. In England, the stars seemed so far away, and here they seem so close that I could almost touch them. There are times when I would have done anything to have those answers, Shikira. Well... almost anything. Now I find I am faced with a new set of questions to ponder, a new mystery to discover, a new star to gaze upon... you."

Shikira was a little stunned; not only by his words, but by the soft, affectionate way in which he spoke them. With the tips of his fingers, he traced the outline of her jaw, drawing an invisible line along the edge of her face and down the side of her neck. His touch made her skin feel hot, sending small shivers through her flesh that ran the length of her body. She had long known the pleasures that a man could give her, but this seemed somehow different. It was almost as if having her close to him was all he desired. Not just her woman's form, but her as a person.

She moved a little closer, pressing her naked stomach against his thigh, looking deep into his eyes for something that would tell her a little more about this man from the homeland she had never known. "You think me a mystery?" She found the concept exciting, and very sexy.

"Oh, indeed. You are a great mystery. You see, in England, a lady is treated very differently than here. Therefore, she behaves differently. The things you say and do, the way you react to things, the way you think, it's all very different to any woman I have ever met. Thus, you are a mystery, and, I must say, the most tantalizing mystery ever to taunt a man's curiosity. I want to know you, Shikira, everything about you, what you like to eat, what makes you smile, your dreams, and your hopes. Most of all, I want to know your heart.” With both hands he traced lines up and down her arms, barely touching her skin yet covering her body in small bumps.

Cupping her chin in his fingers, he lifted her face to meet his. She could feel the heat of his breath, smell the wine, and, when his lips brushed against hers, she could almost taste him. For the first time in her life, a simple kiss had left her breathless and hungry. Their faces lingered for a moment, no more than a breath apart; then, in a rush, they came together in a crushing kiss, one filled with longing and need. His tongue parted her willing lips, pushing its way into the inner reaches of her mouth and exploring every delicate crevice. His hands embraced her body, pulling her hard against him as her fingers dug deep into his hair.

A soft moan escaped her lips as his hands began to stray down the length of her spine, their delightful explorations stopping when they reached the soft curve of her buttocks. Slowly, he kneaded her cheeks, pulling them apart them pressing them back together, cupping his hands under them and lifting her slightly. He was a powerful man, both in body and circumstance, but she felt no threat, only need. She knew she had nothing to fear from this man; he would neither rule her, nor control her. He wanted only to please her.

Hudson's mouth slid from hers, seeking out the delicate flesh of her neck and throat. Nibbling and kissing, he tasted every inch of her skin, sucking it into his mouth and running his teeth over it, releasing it before he left a mark. Shikira's fingers clung hard to his dark hair, holding him to her, demanding more of his delicious teasing. She took her lead, directing his hungry mouth to the places she burned to feel him, pulling him to the exposed flesh of her breast, delighting in the heated moisture of his mouth as he licked and sucked. His hands shifted from her buttocks, and up to the gold clasp of her beaded bra. He fumbled a little, but, in moments, it came free in his hands, and he leaned back from her to gaze upon the glory of her ample breasts as he released them from their gem-covered prison.

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