Taken by the Kingbydeepemerald©
Paula was walking along the air-conditioned corridors of her new workplace. She couldn't believe her luck, first she'd passed the exams to become a teacher of English as a foreign language with flying colours and then she'd been offered an enormous salary to come to this tiny little Arabian kingdom. The school wasn't operational yet, it had been established by the king and should start taking in pupils next week. Her new employer just wanted her there a bit early to make sure everything was OK and she had everything that she needed.
She hadn't met her employer yet and she was a bit nervous. She'd never met royalty before and didn't quite know what to do. She wasn't sure when she'd meet the king either, if at all. She heard footsteps behind her and she turned around to see Mohammed who'd acted guide, translator and chauffeur for her since she arrived the previous evening. She'd stayed in a hotel the first night as her new quarters still weren't finished, but now he was taking her to her new flat.
Mohammed took her downstairs to the underground garage where he guided her into a limousine with blackened windows. She didn't yet have the appropriate attire to show herself in public so she'd been whisked around in the limo and ferried between it and lifts and empty rooms as long as she'd been here. She giggled to herself and thought it was almost like having been abducted. She hadn't even flown into the country, Mohammed picking her up at an airport in a neighbouring country the previous day and then driving across the desert for 8 hours.
She was wondering where her things were as she hadn't packed or checked out of her hotel room, but she was sure that they were in the boot of the car as everything had been dealt with so efficiently so far.
Despite the air conditioning and blacked out windows she was starting to feel hot. She was only wearing a pink cotton dress but it felt like a woolly jumper. She bitterly regretted wearing a satin bra and knickers, but they'd felt like a good idea at the time. She liked to wear pretty underwear and the satin looked good against her pale skin. She didn't tan, she hardly even got freckles. The only colour on her body were her pink nipples and the pink fold between her legs. She preferred to keep herself completely shaved so there was no body hair either, a blessing in this climate. The bra was starting to feel a bit constraining against her 36D breasts and the lace was itching a little bit. She'd change into cotton underwear when she got to her new flat. She looked in her handbag and found a hairclip into which she gathered her long red hair. That felt a bit cooler.
She must have fallen asleep and was startled when Mohammed touched her arm. The car was parked in a shaded courtyard. This apartment building was amazing. It looked the way she imagined an Arabian castle to look. Maybe it had once been a castle and turned into an apartment building. She was a bit confused that she couldn't see anybody around, but she could hear a lot of footsteps and some quiet talking in the distance so she figured everybody who lived there was keeping to themselves. Well, she'd never had problems making friends in her 21 year old life and she was sure she'd get to know people once it cooled down at the end of the day and people returned from work.
Mohammed motioned for her to follow him and she did. They walked through an intricate maze of stairs and corridors and she didn't know how she was going to remember how to get back out. She could feel a million eyes on her, but she couldn't see anybody so she figured that she was only imagining things. She started asking Mohammed questions about getting her own car, where she could find a map, where she could find clothes so that she could go outside, but he wouldn't answer. Gone was the smiling and talkative man from yesterday and instead she was walking with a sour, quiet man who seemed incredibly annoyed with her for daring to speak with him.
They soon reached a massive door that Mohammed pushed open with little effort. Paula was lost for words as she entered. This was the most luxurious room she'd ever seen in her life. There was a massive bed covered in luscious silk covers and cushions. There were golden shutters keeping the sun out and all furnishings looked as though they came from a royal palace somewhere in a fairytale. She couldn't possibly afford this, even on her generous salary. She turned to protest to Mohammed, that she must be given more modest accommodation but she only caught him closing the door. She went towards the door to open it when she heard a key turn. She was locked inside.
She ran up and shook the door but it wouldn't budge. In fact, it was so solid she didn't think the people on the other side would even hear her even if she screamed and shouted as much as she could. She ran up to the windows but all she could see was desert that went on for miles and miles. Even if she did escape there was no way she'd survive out there. She spotted some more doors and went and looked behind them. The first one opened into the most luxurious bathroom anybody could imagine. There was a gilded toilet, a huge sink and the most enormous bathtub she'd ever seen. There were no towels about, but she figured they'd be in the drawers. There were however a selection of shampoos, soaps, lotions and perfumes. They all seemed a bit too rich for her taste.
The next room she inspected seemed to be a dressing room. There were plenty of mirrors, a makeup table with dark and powerful colours. There was a jewellery box that was extremely heavy, but locked, and there were several hangers waiting for garments. The third and final room wasn't a room. It was a walk-in closet that was larger than her student accommodation back home had been. It too was waiting for clothes. Despite her fear of what was going on she started giggling at the thought that all her worldly possessions had fitted into two battered old suitcases that were nowhere to be seen.
She went back outside to the big room. There were a couple of comfortable looking sofas at one end of the room. There was also a stylish writing desk. There were furthermore two bookcases that were jam-packed with current Anglo-American literature and a very comfortable looking reading chair. But the room was dominated by the massive bed. She found a jug of water on the table by the sofas and poured herself a drink. As she sat alone she started crying as she'd never cried before, this was the scariest experience of her life.
She was startled by a noise and woke up from her little nap. In her room were three girls dressed in colourful Arabian clothes. Their faces weren't covered, but Paula knew that girls didn't have to cover their faces in company with other girls. She tried to speak with them, she tried to get them to understand that she was kept prisoner here, but they just giggled and went into the bathroom. She could hear the water running and then the girls came and took her by the hands and led her inside the bathroom. The room was hot and humid from the bath that was being run and there was a cloud of heavy musky scent that Paula assumed was a bath oil.
The girls started undressing her and no matter how much Paula protested they just giggled and kept insisting. Finally Paula gave in and let herself be led into the bath. As she started soaking she could feel the strange hands start washing her hair and her body. They giggled as they were washing her round breasts and shaving the little stubble of body hair that had appeared in the last couple of days. They stroked her vibrantly red hair and seemed to admire the colour. Paula noticed that her body was reacting to the erotic feeling of these girls washing her and she blushed. The girls noticed this and nodded approvingly.
Shortly afterwards Paula was taken out of the bath and towels appeared from nowhere. The girls dried her off and continued to cover her body with a lotion, with the same heavy perfume as the bath. She tried to protest, but it was no use and she let them rub the lotion across every inch of her naked body. She was then taken in to the dressing room where they made her sit down in front of the mirror. She could see how hard her nipples were from the bathroom treatment. The girls then proceeded to brush and dry her hair. As it recovered it's sheen they nodded approvingly and giggled with her. They then started applying the makeup. She hated the thick dark makeup that surrounded her pale green eyes, but by now she'd realised that there was no use protesting.
One of the girls came in from the walk in closet holding an outfit in green and gold. Paula wanted some of her own clothes, but they were still nowhere to be seen so she let them put on the underwear of gold embroidered silk and then the long dress. The jewellery box was opened and she was given chains, earrings, necklaces and bracelets and even an ankle chain to wear. Finally a headdress was put on, making sure that her entire body except her hands with brand new red nail polish and her eyes were covered. She put her feet into the golden sandals and followed the girls. Apart from the fact that her outfit was a million times more extravagant than that of the three girls she couldn't tell any difference between her and the others as they led her out of the dressing room and motioned for her to stand and wait in front of the big door as they disappeared behind what Paula had thought was a big painting, but which was in fact a servants' entrance.
Within a minute the door was opened and a woman with a similar outfit to Paula's, but in black and silver instead of green and gold, appeared with two men in traditional Arabian men's outfits. These men appeared to be soldiers of some kind and she was wondering if they were protecting her or guarding her. The woman led her through the big castle again and she realised that this must be the king's castle. This must be a welcoming dinner that she was taken to and the girls had just been there to make sure she was dressed appropriately. She finally relaxed. Mohammed must have been in a bad mood and that was why she hadn't been told what was going on. She was going to make sure the king knew that Mohammed hadn't explained a thing.
She was taken into a grand hall, which seemed prepared for a big feast. Behind golden bars she noticed a flurry of activity as a lot of whispering women tried to get a look at her. That must be the king's harem she thought with disgust. What a horrible way to live. For a moment she was wondering how she was supposed to eat when her face was covered like this, but she had no more time to think as she reached a big chair, almost throne like, and showed to sit down in it. The minute she sat down other doors opened and a host of people came into the hall. The men took their seats at the tables and the few women sat on cushions behind the men.
When everybody was there and all eyes on her she heard a fanfare and a double door was opened. This was very impressive. She'd never imagined a welcoming like this. In marched a number of men in what could only be described as Arabian festive suits, one of whom was Mohammed. After them came a man in an outfit that almost matched hers and as people bowed as he walked past she assumed he was the king. The king walked up to Paula and she decided to curtsey. He lifted a hand with a big emerald ring and she thought it better to kiss it. The king wasn't an attractive man as such, but he had a rugged look about him that made him look slightly dangerous. She guessed that he was in his early forties.
She tried to speak to him, but he raised his hand and hushed her. Apparently women weren't supposed to speak to men, or at least not the king, unless first spoken to. What followed was a stream of people filing past Paula and the king, speaking to the king in a language Paula didn't understand. After an hour a man in some ceremonial outfit walked up to the king and spoke with him. The king said some things back and the man walked up to Paula. Mohammed whispered to her in English that she was just to repeat everything the man said loud and clear. She struggled to repeat the strange words, but the king looked very pleased so she was sure that she'd done something right.
Afterwards she was again led away from the hall and she could hear the start of the feast. She was taken behind the bars where the women had removed their headdresses and enjoying the plentiful food. Paula removed her headdress and there was a chorus of oohs and aahs as she did and many women walked up to touch her hair. She finished the feast and found that she'd enjoyed it, despite not understanding the language. She'd sat next to a woman her own age and they'd communicated using their hands and she'd already started learning the names for the different foods they were eating.
When the feast was over the women started disappearing and the woman from earlier reappeared and led Paula through the castle. There were plenty more guards and for a moment she was sure that she was in a different part of the castle from before. She convinced herself that she was only imagining things as she was a bit disoriented. One of the guards opened a big door and she was shown inside. This was not the room from before, but again it was locked from outside.
This room was much more masculine than the previous one and she assumed it must be part of the king's quarters. He must be wanting a private word with her. Though she couldn't understand why they couldn't talk in his office. It seemed rather inappropriate to be in a room like this which had another one of the big beds that she'd seen in the room she'd been in before. Just as she was wondering how long she was going to have to wait she heard footsteps outside and then a key unlocking the door. She got on her feet and curtseyed as the king entered the room and locked the door behind him.
"There is no need for you to curtsey for me in private," he said and surprised her by having virtually no accent at all when he spoke English.
"Thank you, your Majesty," she replied, feeling that was a suitable reply.
"You will learn to speak my language soon enough and then you shall also learn how to speak to me correctly," he continued.
"I hope I'll have time to learn your language," Paula said. "I'm expecting to be very busy with the school."
"You will not be working at the school," the king shocked her with this statement. "I have a male teacher flying in at the end of the week to teach at the school."
"What do you mean?" Paula was starting to feel a panic spreading throughout her body. "Then what am I doing here?"
"You are my wife."
"I am your WHAT?" Paula shrieked. "That can't be true, I've never agreed to that."
The king laughed sardonically. "You just attended our wedding, my dear. You are now Queen Aysha."
"That's not right, I didn't know anything about that. I'm Paula Terzer and I'm a teacher."
"Not anymore, as my wife you will not need to teach. All you have to do is to be at my disposal when I need you, bear my sons and eventually become the female leader of this household."
Paula couldn't believe what she was hearing, she shook her head. "No, that's not right. I demand to see the British ambassador."
The king laughed at her. "The British ambassador was at our wedding. He's very pleased to see me taking a British woman for my fourth and final wife."
"Yes, I already have three wives, but they have been unable to give me sons so they have been declared minor wives and you are my queen. I have looked up your pedigree and there have been plenty of male children born in your family. I also know that you are a virgin, which is a requirement for a wife in my country."
"But my father…" Paula protested.
"I know about your father. He was the only survivor in the accident that killed your mother and brothers. He's been moved to the best nursing home in England. That's my dowry for you. Now we will have no more talk. I know that you are ripe and I would like to make a son in the next couple of days as tradition states that we stay in here for the first four days of married life."
All of a sudden things started making sense to Paula. The extensive medical examination she'd gone through. She thought it was to get a visa to come here, but the doctor was finding out about her menstrual cycle and the status of her virginity. And then the sudden rush to get her here this quickly when the ad had stated that the school wouldn't be operational until a week from now. She only had one question. "Why me?"
"I was present at the embassy when the applicants were being screened for the job. I immediately saw that you were unsuitable for the position of teaching men in my country, but I found you beautiful and attractive despite wearing the clothes of a whore. I made enquiries about you and I liked what I found out and decided that you should be my final wife, my queen and that you should give birth to the heir of my throne."
"And what if I don't have a son?" she asked, the faith of her predecessors in the back of her mind.
"You will give me a son. The other three wives have cheated me by having only daughters so I prayed to Allah that I would find a woman to have sons. He gave me you and I decided you worthy of my seed."
Paula shook at those words. This was a different world where women were a mere commodity. Women were there to give pleasure in bed and have sons. If they didn't do either they'd be discarded. The king walked up to her and pulled off her headdress and nodded approvingly. He then walked around her and with the flick of a hand he made her entire outfit that had taken so long to put on fall to the ground. She was standing before him in her underwear and sandals.
"Kneel!" the king commanded and with shaking legs Paula did as she was told. She was feeling shy and awkward, but she daren't anger the king in this vulnerable state. Who would help her if she cried? They were married. Even if the rest of the castle heard her cry or protest they'd just think it was because she was a shy virgin. The king shed his own clothing and stood in front of her. She looked up and there was a small amount of annoyance in his eyes. "Normally I can have this part taken care of by other women in the harem, but I'd advice you to do it yourself during our honeymoon as you'll lose the respect of everybody in the household if you cannot prepare your new husband for the wedded bed during these days."
Paula bit her lip not to cry. She now realised what she was meant to do. She parted her lips slightly, hesitated and then reached up to take the king's cock in her hand. She placed it on her lips and closed them around his meat. As she started sucking she heard the king breathe in deeply and she felt his cock growing inside her mouth. She sucked harder and harder and soon it had grown to such a massive size that she could hardly fit any of it inside her mouth. He pulled out of her and smiled approvingly. "You've done very well, now take off the rest of your clothes and lie down on the bed.
She trembled with awkwardness as she shed the last of her modesty. She lay down on the huge bed and was followed by the king who lay next to her. With his big, hard cock poking into her sides he started kissing her. She wanted to cry but forced herself not to. He moved down to her full breasts and started sucking on her hard nipples. "You have very nice breasts," he said appreciatively. Paula felt her body betray her slightly. She was angry and afraid, yet her breasts were reacting like this to the king's touch.
He parted her legs and ran his finger up her smooth, shaved slit. To her dismay Paula noticed that his finger slid right inside her. She didn't want this. This wasn't how she'd planned to lose her virginity and now her body was betraying her. The king smiled as he licked her juices off his finger. He slid across her, parting her legs wider and started penetrating her. His cock had grown big and hard, Paula reckoned at least eight inches and it looked massive next to her clean shaven pussy. First his head made it inside her and then he stopped, allowing her pussy to adapt to the sheer size of him. He then pushed all of himself inside and Paula cried out in pain as he broke her hymen.