Lost in Arabia

Lana drew in a breath and turned to look at the Sheikh, who was grinning at her, finding her very amusing, apparently. "I knew you would be much fun to have for dinner. My wife, Khalid's mother, she also thinks like this, but she says it in a more...diplomatic way."

Khalid still glared at her, smouldering eyes attempting to incinerate her. She felt sorely tempted to stick her tongue out at him, or do something else equally immature.

"Now, what, exactly, is your difficulty with our policy toward foreigners? Many expatriates enjoy living here because we do not tax their life-blood like their own governments do. Many people from poorer countries come here because there is so much opportunity here for work and money, where there is none back in their home countries."

"Opportunity for work and money, yes. Opportunity for advancement, for ever being able to live under the same roof as their families again, no. Please understand, I'm not claiming Britain's much better on the exploitation score, but if you were to ask me whether I thought you could do better, I would say yes."

The dinner progressed, the starting topics being segways into greater issues, leading to spirited, occasionally border-line hostile, debating. However, Lana discovered that the Sheikh was every bit as intelligent as Sayed had said. If they hadn't changed each other's minds on the issues, they had certainly each gained a new perspective.

The one damper on Lana's mood were the constant glares she was receiving from a few of the men around the table; more particularly, from Khalid. It was non-stop. He skewered her with his eyes while they debated, while they chatted about the weather, while they dined on the much-anticipated Bubbles and Squeak that the cook had prepared...

Finally, she could take it no longer. Lana glanced around; seeing everyone was digging into their desserts and not paying attention to her, she crossed her eyes at the still-glaring Khalid. The look on his face was truly priceless. His jaw dropped and he stared at her as if she'd just ripped off her top and put her plate on her head. The man really took himself a little too seriously.

His jaw snapped shut and clenched. Then, for the first time since the conversation had turned political, he smiled at her. This smile held no trace of amusement or friendliness; it was pure malice.

"You are sure you can only stay the two weeks? My wife is most excited to meet you, and I am very much enjoying talking to you," the Sheikh said.

"Oh, yes, Your Eminence. Unfortunately, my schedule just won't allow for more time away."

"This is too bad, but we will make sure you see everything my country has to offer. It is beautiful country," he said, his chest puffing out with pride.

"It certainly seems so, based on what I've seen so far." Lana smothered a yawn, wondering if it was okay to even need to yawn in the presence of royalty.

His gaze narrowed. "You are tired? Why do you not tell us? We will let you to sleep. Tomorrow, you will begin your real visit here."

Lana made her bows, and exited, noting some less than friendly looks directed her way as she left. Sayed, of course, was a silent, gloomy shadow at her side, escorting her to her room. Upon reaching her door, he flicked his gaze over her, murmured a good night, and left.

She was very surprised to note upon entering her room that it was eleven o'clock. The conversation had flowed and the food had simply kept coming; she hadn't realized that it had been three hours.

She had barely slept the night before due to both excitement and anxiety, and that had caught up with her now. All Lana could do was quickly perform her toilette, change into her silk jammies, and crawl under the covers of the behemoth bed.

***



She was in the Sheikh's throne room, which was teeming with Arab somebodies, and she was wearing an Indian dress complete with sari. She knew this was wrong, but a haze blanketed her mind and she could not quite figure out why.

The crowd parted and she saw the Sheikh smiling at her. Feeling drawn to him as if by a magnet, she glided toward him. He motioned with his hands and she climbed onto his lap, pulling her skirts up around her waist.

She was wearing silk panties. It felt good to rock back and forth, rubbing herself on the smiling Sheikh's hard cock. His hands ran over her back, cupping and kneading her buttocks.

Her clit was swelling and peeking out from its hood, demanding more stimulation than it was getting. She reached down to rub it, and heard excited chatter in Arabic.

Suddenly, she was on the floor. Someone was pressing a cloth over her mouth and nose, a sickeningly sweet stench filling her nostrils. The throneroom and people faded, and all that was left was blackness.



***

She awoke with a pounding headache, coming slowly to the surface of consciousness as if reticent to fully experience the throbbing of her head. She blinked against the onslaught of candlelight, its muted flicker seeming harsh and abusive to her sensitive eyes.

"Good morning," Khalid said in a singsongy voice as he plopped down next to her.

Lana tried to jerk upright, only to realise her wrists were tied to the wooden bars of her canopy bed. Her legs had been spread apart and tied with long ropes to the bedposts at the foot of the bed.

She looked at the prince, who was wearing what appeared to be a short-sleeved candora. His handsome face and mischievous grin completely at odds with the fact that he'd apparently drugged and tied her up.

"What are you doing?" she tried to croak, but her voice was so hoarse as to be indecipherable.

Khalid apparently understood her though, or at least caught the gist of it, for he replied, "Teaching you a lesson."

Lana's mouth went dry and all thoughts of her aching head vanished as he picked up a hunting knife off her night table.

"Lovely as it was feeling you through silk, let's get rid of these, hmm?"

She tried to scream, but all that came out was a crackling wail that wasn't even loud enough to echo in her room.

"Don't bother. You'll only hurt your throat more," he said.

She held absolutely still as he pulled her pajama top away from her body and began slicing off the buttons. Soon her top gaped open, completely exposing her breasts. He set to work on her bottoms, slicing upward along the seams with the wicked-looking and very sharp blade.

"You are probably wondering why I didn't undress you while you were drugged," he said absently, continuing his work on her pajama pants.

She hadn't been, actually. She'd only focused on two things since she'd woken up: her pounding head, and her absolute terror.

"I like my women to be awake when I undress them," Khalid said, smiling in triumph as her pants finally split into two separate panels. He whisked the top one away, baring her to his gaze.

"Are you going to kill me?" Lana forced out.

Khalid laughed. "No."

"Rape me?" she asked, her throat feeling as if she'd been swallowing shards of glass.

Khalid placed a hand on her smooth thigh, his dark skin contrasting sharply with her paleness. "I don't like the word rape. Rape implies that you won't enjoy it. I assure you, you most definitely will." His fingers trailed lightly up to the apex of her thighs.

He stood and slipped his candora over his head. He folded it neatly and put it on the night table. All he had left on was a white wrap-around thing that looked like a sheet, which he quickly removed, folded, and placed on top of his candora. His cock hung between his legs, thickened but not yet fully aroused.

Lana bit back tears. She'd thought this wouldn't happen again. She'd become a statistic once before: one of the many women to be raped by the age of twenty-five, but after counseling and time to heal she'd finally come to believe she was safe.

She closed her eyes and tried to detach her mind as she had so long ago, to ignore the slobbering kisses and the harsh pounding into her dry hole that were sure to come. She jerked against her cords as she felt a warm mouth envelope her nipple.

"Just get it over with," she pleaded in a crackly voice.

Khalid released her nipple and looked up with a grin. "I am not an animal to mount you without foreplay." He returned to her nipple, drawing it into his mouth and swirling his tongue around it.

Lana went numb, simply withdrew from herself and watched what was happening as if from a distance. She knew this was about power, perhaps about the rapist's own self-esteem issues, but it didn't make it any less unbearable.

Suddenly she was brought back to the moment by her nipple being bitten.

"Ah!" she shrieked hoarsely, quieting herself quickly. She looked down to find him grinning up at her.

"Just getting your attention," Khalid said with a smirk.

He swirled his tongue around her nipple and blew against it, causing it to harden traitorously. Lana closed her eyes again, trying to retreat back into her other world, but the suckling of her breasts kept drawing her back. With his mouth, his palms and his fingers, her rapist worshipped her breasts, seeming for all the world more like a tender lover than what he really was.

Her body was betraying her and her mind abandoning her. She bit her lip to keep from moaning as he drew on the tip of one breast while rolling the other between thumb and forefinger.

Her eyes snapped open as she felt his head moving downward, placing kisses on her stomach as he approached her neatly trimmed patch. She raised her head to look at him incredulously; rapists were not supposed to engage in cunnilingus.

He smiled up at her just before he opened his mouth and engulfed her clit, sucking hood and all into his mouth. Lana's legs tried to clamp closed, but the cords were pulled taut and wouldn't allow her that much movement. She couldn't contain her moan when he skimmed back her hood with his fingers and began lashing her clit with his tongue.

It was so surreal. It had to be a dream, Lana thought to herself as she strained against the ropes. She didn't know whether she was trying to get away from him or get closer to him. Her mind had been her refuge when she'd been raped before, but it was just as far gone as her body, randomly attaching to the sensations Khalid was exposing her to.

A finger slid inside her, and she was unable to stop the answering spasm of her pussy. Why was she enjoying this? Tears welled in her eyes even as moisture pooled in her cunt. A second finger slid in to join the first and they began pumping in and out of her. Lana gripped the bars of the headboard, trying with all her might to not show him how much her body was liking the things he did.

Lana had been without sex for too long, and her unused pussy welcomed the fingers sliding in and out of her. Wetness seeped out of her and dribbled down into her crack. She squirmed uncomfortably at the moisture pooling there, and felt her pussy clasp in response to her inadvertent thrusting of herself onto the prince's fingers.

She bit her lips and forced her hips to stay still, wanting as they were now to buck against the plunging fingers and lapping tongue.

Khalid tore himself away from her clit. "Just let go and enjoy it. You cannot stop it, so you may as well take full pleasure in it," he said enticingly. He dipped his head back down to join his fingers, drawing circles around her clit with his tongue.

It was true, but she couldn't help but feel that it was wrong to enjoy it. Like she was supposed to withhold the one thing that she could from him...

At the precise moment she thought that to herself, he drew hard on her clit and slammed his fingers into her. Her hips jerked up of their own will.

It was then that her resolve cracked. Lana gave herself over to sensations of her clit being licked and suck, of the fingers stroking in and out of her pussy, of her pussy lips swelling and moistening. She moaned brokenly.

Suddenly, the tongue and fingers were lifted away. Just as Lana opened her eyes to find out why, she felt the thick head of a cock nudging her pussy lips. Khalid stared down at her, all trace of teasing gone from his face.

She turned her face away, closing her eyes as he began to push into her. Her clit was swollen and standing proudly erect from her hood, and her pussy tightened welcomingly as he inched his way forward.

"Now you are being a very good girl. Look at me, though," Khalid said tightly.

Lana clenched her eyes even more tightly and kept her face turned away.

Khalid reached down and wrenched her face up. "Look at me!"

She opened her eyes, blinking rapidly to hold back her tears.

Khalid's teeth clenched as he hit her cervix, his cock completely sunk into her. He began slow thrusting movements, rasping along every nerve ending in her cunt as he stroked in and out.

It felt so good. Shameful in its goodness. Lana began to cry while her labia plumped even more around his cock.

Khalid said nothing, just leaned down and kissed her. His lips were warm and gentle, moving against hers coaxingly. As she opened her mouth on a gasp, his tongue slipped in to find hers. His hips picked up in pace, slapping harder against hers as their tongues tangled and slid against each other.

He broke away from her lips and dropped his head to her neck as he began pounding into her in earnest. Lana's pussy clasped while her mind railed against what was happening, desire warring with conscience. She was suspended in a state of aroused guilt: unable to enjoy it enough to orgasm, unable to feel bad enough to not enjoy it at all.

"Ya Allah!" Khalid shouted before biting down on her neck and shoving himself deep inside her.

He jerked hard once, twice, three times, emptying himself inside her. He collapsed on top of her, placing a kiss on her wet shoulder.

Lana's legs trembled from the stress of being held so wide apart. Her arousal faded, leaving her absolutely numb. Her mind couldn't form one coherent thought.

Finally Khalid pushed himself up on his hands, staring down at her. "Here is what's going to happen: I am going to come to you whenever I want you, you will stay until I am tired of you, and if you try to leave before then you'll be arrested at the airport," he said, his tone so genial that it seemed impossible that he could be issuing such a statement in so friendly a voice.

"I have to go home," Lana croaked.

Khalid smiled at her patronisingly. "This is your home until I let you go. The good news is that I don't usually take very long to tire of women, so you should probably be here no more than a week or two longer than you planned."

Lana shook her head vehemently.

He picked up the knife again, and Lana cringed away. He leaned over her and began cutting the cords binding her wrists.

"The sooner you accept this, the easier it will be," he said, pulling her wrists down after he'd cut through the cords. He turned and began working on the cord holding her left ankle.

Lana rubbed her wrists, her mind working frantically to process everything being thrown at it. He was basically saying she was his slave - no, his sex slave - until further notice.

Her ankles were soon freed and she reached down to rub circulation back into them. She became suddenly aware of her nudity and tried to pull the duvet over herself only to have him yank it away from her.

"I will tell you when you can cover and when you cannot, hmm?" Khalid said affably.

Lana lay there dazedly, fully exposed to this man who'd just told her that he owned her until he tired of her. Her mind couldn't handle everything being thrown at it, and she just stared at him without a single thing to think or say. She couldn't even cry.

"Were you a virgin?" Khalid asked, his tone laced with delight.

Lana looked up at him in confusion.

"You have blood." Khalid gestured to her thighs which were smeared with a small amount of blood.

Lana shook her head. He must've reopened the tear she'd gotten from her first rape.

"Too bad," he said, looking dejected. "It is always lovely to be the first, hmm?"

She just stared at him incredulously. He thought this was no big deal at all...He'd drugged her, tied her up and raped her, and he was upset because he wasn't her first?

"Let's have a bath," he said, tugging her to her feet.

She followed him mutely to the bathroom.

After the tub had been filled with steaming scented water, Khalid stepped in and pulled Lana to sit in front of him. He took a washcloth and began washing her tenderly.

"I am going to show you many things, Lana," he said, lifting her arm to run the washcloth along the underside of it. "Have you ever tried anything in domination and submission?"

Lana tried to crane her neck around to see him, shaking her head.

"I didn't think so. It radiates from you, you know. Your submissive side is a raw resource just waiting to be tapped, and it calls to me." Khalid ran the washcloth over her back, the nubbly sensation of the cloth and the heat of the water causing her nipples to pucker. "All submissives need a dominant, just as all dominants need their submissives. Two halves to make the same whole, hmm?"

Lana remained silent, both conserving her voice and waiting until she had something intelligent to ask.

Khalid put the washcloth on the side of the tub and brought his hands around to cup her breasts, stroking his thumbs over her nipples. He brought his mouth to her ear, "I will make you feel complete in a way you never have," he whispered, twisting sharply on her nipples.

Lana cried out against the pain, even as a part of her wanted to arch into it.

He stood, hauling her up with him. Thigh-deep in the water, he nudged her legs apart. His hand traveled down her flat stomach to her pussy, which was literally steaming from the hot bath.

His fingers parted her dripping curls, and one finger slid inside. He stirred the finger inside her, lazily thrusting in and out, bringing her to wetness.

When she was flowing juices, he pushed her head down until she had to reach out and brace herself against the edge of the tub. She felt the smooth head of his cock sliding along her slit, finally aligning itself with her cunt and then plunging inside.

***

Lana awoke to harsh sunlight streaming in through the unshaded windows. She flung her arm over her eyes and groaned. When she groaned, she became aware that the inside of her throat felt like it had been rubbed raw with sandpaper.

Memories came back in a rush. The dinner, waking up tied up, Khalid fucking her once against her will and once with so much cooperation on her part it could only be called consensual, if a bit coerced.

The second time...she'd came. It had been a weak orgasm, an orgasm where the mind is too scattered to really focus and heighten the pleasure, but an orgasm nonetheless. And in that position...like a fucking dog. Afterward, he'd dried her off and put her to bed with a gentle kiss as if she were a child.

Lana didn't know what the hell was going on, or what to think of it, but she did know she wasn't sticking around for any more of this shit. She flung her stuff back into her suitcases which had been neatly stored on top of the huge armoire on the broad side of her room. She picked up the phone and when she reached the palace switchboard she asked to be connected to Sayed.

"Allo?"

"Sayed, this is Lana Mitchell. Something's come up and I need to get back to England right now. Can you please send someone to help me get my bags out to the car?"

"Certainly, but you will of course have breakfast with the Sheikh before you go," he said smoothly.

"I know it's terrible of me, but I really can't. I have to go now," Lana said emphatically.

Sayed's voice picked up a trace of irritation, smooth as he was. "I'll pass your regrets on to His Eminence. I'm sure he will understand."