Desert Heat (closed for Rayne_Cloud)

Noon_Shadow

Corrupting Influence
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Feb 3, 2010
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1602, Northern Arabia

The Caravan continued southward in the desert heat, attempting to reach the water stand before nightfall in order to make camp-one of the locations where water was to be found in this region. The guide was a local man, who wore a dark shroud over his face and carried a large, curved sword. Very few of those in the caravan had ever been to the region before-they were from far off lands, hoping to buy silk at a discounted price from local traders. They'd been struggling onward for nearly a week in the barren sandy landscape, and the heat and thirst had taken effect-they were not nearly setting as ambitious a pace as they had upon starting out.

Something else had changed from the start of their journey-they were being watched. Though they didn't realize it, sharp-eyed Kurdish raiders had been shadowing their journey, carefully watching the approach of this Caravan, and hungering after the riches it seemed to be carrying right into the heart of their lands. And, with a suddenness that completely startled the desert travelers, they attacked.

The caravan guide was frozen in place for a moment, before he emitted a startled scream and turned about to flee, running as fast as he could, until he suddenly fell, with an arrow embedded in his back, fired from a horsebow. The members of the caravan-mostly merchants, with but a few guards and servants, were almost completely unprepared, and mustered almost no resistance to hinder experienced raiders, used to striking suddenly and without mercy. They did not kill unnecessarily-the men who did not resist were left alone. The found a great store of gold and plenty of other loot. Camels were quickly broad to bear the load, serving as beasts of burden for the spoils of war. The women, unfortunately-they were considered among the spoils.

One such, a particularly lovely creature with reddish-brown hair appeared to be the source of some argument. She found herself caught between two of the raiders, as they began shouting at each other in angry words she could not understand, while they each grabbed an arm. They were oblivious to her cries and complaints, her fear-stricken face, until a larger man with a scarred face, the experienced raid leader, strode in angrily shouted both down. After glancing at the woman in question, he issued orders to the two warriors, who obeyed, however reluctantly. There was one word distinguishable-it appeared to be a name, "Jemeil," though what it foreboded was beyond the young woman's ability to understand at this time. Before she could catch her breath, they were cutting strips from her dress to bind her hands, securing them behind her back. One of the men, tired of her loud protests, eventually gagged her mouth as well, silencing her cries.

And just like that, the defenders marched marched off. The women they'd taken were made to walk on their own two feet. Sure, the chests of gold and clothing, and the other various loot had been secured to camels, but the women were forced to trod on bare feet across the hot sand in the burning heat, wearing their tattered dresses. They were dragged along like willfully disobedient pets, thirsty, barely able to see for the heat haze rising from the ground. If they fell, the were simply pulled up, given a swat across the bottom, and made to continue. They were stopped once, after two hours, and given water, then prodded into motion again. Finally, they began to make out a city in the distance, and it appeared that it was their destination.

Most of the women appeared to be dragged off to tents outside of the city, which were clearly camps intended for the soldiers, but this red chestnut-haired beauty was taken by captors into the city gates. The city was noisy, the traffic was tight, and while she might have thought to escape in the added confusion, one of her captors gripped her tightly as the other drew a long knife-the implication was clear. She was taken to the highest part of town, to its largest structure...a 3 story palace. They escorted her around to a side doorway, where two very imposing men stood guard with long swords. The captor with the knife suddenly turned her and began cutting at her clothes, and though the captive attempted to scream, her screams were still muffled by her gag. Every stitch on her was quickly cut away, and she was tossed unceremoniously tossed, completely nude, through the door...into a dimly lit room occupied with women. They were all audaciously dressed in sheer tops and flowing skirts, and there was a large fountain at the back of the room, and a pool off to one side. One of them began speaking to her, in words she still could not understand, but she soon realized that she was being offered water.

It was at that moment that another door opened, revealing a darkly handsome man, bare from the waist up. He paused in the doorway for a moment, letting his eyes adjust to the rooms lighting, before he spots the newcomer in the far corner. With a fetching smile for each of the ladies as he passes them-who each responded with a smile of their own-he made his way to her side not bothering to hide his open appraisal of her features, admiring her fair skin and fair hair. He paused directly in front of her before he made a chivalrous bow.

http://neon.hu/wp-content/uploads/2009/07/prince-of-persia1-720x1024.jpg

"Greetings. I am Prince Jemeil al-Wassar. My soldiers have offered you as a gift from their latest raid, and, having seen you, I graciously accept. You are to become part of my harem- he pauses to indicate the ladies gathered around him "-and you will be treated to the protection and luxuries of my house." He sensed her discomfort at being nude in front of her, as she attempted to cover up, and he continued. "No man but I may enter this room, and as you are to serve me, there is no need for modesty."
 
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The war between England and Ireland had been going on for 9 long years and had finally come to a head in January this year. England had made the final strike by taking out the Spanish alliance at Kinsale in Ireland and taking down much of the Irish resistance with it.

Elizabeth thought of the war often, it had brought about many changes in her life. She had been moved from the only home she had ever known, she now traveled to many different countries but the biggest of these changes was that she was now an orphan and thusly now the sole charge of her Uncle Lord Edward Beckingham of Oxford. A man who until this winter, she had only visited with twice in her life and she had never been fond of him....but he was her only kin and her only choice.

Elizabeth Mary Beckingham, was the only daughter of Charles Arnold Beckingham and Maryanne Beckingham sadly both her father and mother were casualties of war, Irish boarder raiders had attacked and killed them without mercy. Elizabeth had been forced to hide, she had only escaped murder because her devoted chambermaid Sarah had hidden her and protected her. Her parents had not been as fortunate, she had found her father slain on the parlor floor and her mothers body was naked and tortured left for birds to peck in the court yard. The image something Elizabeth would never forget, the trauma she relived every night.

Her Uncle being the heir to her fathers estate had the final say as to what happened to Elizabeth. Elizabeth had protested this change the most, she had assured her uncle that she could have remained in her family home with the staff and maintained the house to her father and mothers standards. He had disagreed and sold the home to some land hungry noble and forced Elizabeth to accompany him during business, she was essentially now his hostess and burden. So now she was being dragged across another god forsaken country in search of trades.

It was so hot, a dry parching heat that burned you and anything else in its path. Elizabeth's corset felt like it was strangling her, the linen of her dress stuck to her skin and long strands of her red chestnut hair clung to her neck and face. She was desperately fanning herself with a rice paper fan her uncle had purchased for her in the Orient but it was no use. Her Uncle had ventured here because he was in persuit of fine silks and spices to export and sell at profit back in England.

Elizabeth was tired and worn and was falling asleep in the saddle the rock of the camel lulling her to a restless heat induced sleep, that was until she heard the first scream. Startled she bolted up right in the saddle and glanced around just in time to see the guide fall dead to the ground. Elizabeth was then pulled roughly from her saddle and man handled by two sinister looking men, Elizabeth screamed and tried to demand her freedom her eyes searching for her Uncle who made no move to protect her he simply knelt in the sand his eyes down cast.

The coward she thought bitterly as she glared at her Uncle's lowered head. The attackers had tight hold of her arms and she thrashed about trying to get free as they argued over her, She couldn't understand a word of it but the intent was there the fire in their voices sent chills down her spine. Another scary and wild looking man approached them and Elizabeth's blood ran cold she had no idea what he said but the men stopped pawing at her and the only clear thing she heard was Jemeil, who or what that was she had no clue but for now it was her savior.

Bound and gagged dragged across dune after dune of blistering hot sand, Elizabeth and the other woman had very little fight in them. When they reached the city Elizabeth tried to stay with the other women she tried to protect them but it was useless, they were forced apart and she saw them shoved into tents like some sort of animal. She dug her heels in and tried to fight but the men simply ignored her and forced her onward into the city. It was so busy and loud but despite her pleading eyes and appearance, no one bothered to come to her aid or to even really pay her situation any attention, this was normal to them.

She looked about wildly trying to look for an escape but it was futile, They reached a door way with two large guards on either side. Elizabeth's heart was pounding and she was terrified. But what happened next devastated, scared and humiliated her. The disgusting man used a knife to cut away her cloths right there in front of who ever chose to look, she was naked stripped bare and then shoved into a dimly lit room.

Huddling as best she could Elizabeth was on her knees on the floor, she heard a few whispers and looked around at the other women, but again no one moved to help her. She was still bound and gagged and scared for her life, the same panic she felt the night the raiders came rushed through her body. She was trembling with fear. In front of her a door opened and she lifted her head to look at a large man who walked in, he was naked from the waist up and was nothing short of imposing.

The air in the room seemed to go static and every woman blushed and smiled his direction and tilted their head in greeting. Elizabeth wanted to run but she couldn't stand and she couldn't cover herself because of her bindings, she hunched down as best she could. Her eyes watering from fear and humiliation. He bowed and introduced himself as a Prince...Prince Jemeil al-Wassar, Elizabeth looked up at him and then down. She did not know if what he said was true or not but it was clear he now thought he owned her...she was his gift and for now if she chose to live she would have to accept that at least for now she was stuck here.

She murmured and tried to speak but the gag was still in place so she simply slumped her head and arched her shoulders trying to cover her breasts as best she could her red chestnut hair cover her face and her embarrassment.

 
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Prince Jemeil had seen the dust cloud rising, indicating that the raiding party had returned. And judging by the amount of dust that had been kicked up, they had come back with plenty of spoils. He stepped out to the balcony with his water glass to watch them arriving in the city. There were a number of women that had apparently been taken in this raid as well-the vast majority were being dragged toward his tents. The treasures that been loaded onto the camels were being brought to the palace-his officers were supervising that load carefully. His men typically looted a good bit for themselves, which they packed and carried off like those women they had taken, but he was still sure to award a rather generous commission-it was the best way of ensuring that his men weren't hoarding the lion-share. Even the officers most loyal weren't proof against pilfering.

Then he saw, trailing near the rear, a girl being brought into the city. He could barely make out her features enough to distinguish here from this distance, but he realized it was his cue. He finished the rest of his water and handed the empty gem-encrusted cup off to a servant as he left to meet his officers for a report in the main hall.

Jabar himself had come, he saw, and with no-one to accompany him. He was already waiting as the Prince strode into his hall and he met him with a friendly smile. The man was as loyal as they came, and his sheer size made him intimidating to his men-he was as valuable as they came. He met Jabar's bow with one of his own, showing his respect. "The raid went well, I take it?" he asked.

"Yes my prince. The Caravan we were tracking in fact had more riches than our men could carry." Jabar smiled. "And we offer you something special, as well, in tribute." There was an amused glint in Jabar's eyes as he spoke. "She's already been escorted to your harem, awaiting your approval."

"Ah yes...the girl I saw being dragged into the city. You expect she'd be to my liking." It wasn't a question, but he raised his eyebrow to Jabar and then turned to find his clerk. "This is very well-once the loot has been apprised, see one third of its value distributed among the men I must go examine this gift and see if I deem it a worthy prize, else it shall also be returned to the men." The clerk bowed deeply, fitting his station, and held to his bow as Jemeil left the main hall. His steps guided him automatically down to the lower parts of the palace, where his harem of women were kept together. Here, as at the door leading outside, there were two guards to ensure that no men entered save for her. They bowed only slightly, but their eyes remained alert, not focused on the ground. Jemeil entered directly.

The harem was a room kept for comfort-there cushions scattered about, and baths in the corner, and a fountain of clear flowing water for drink. The women were dressed in long, loose flowing skirts and tops draped half-open across their shoulders. All the women were of dark of hair and eyes, save one. After a very peremptory smile for all of his ladies, he looked at the exception, a lady of fair skin and brownish-red hair, and favored her with his most charming smile. He doubted she spoke his tongue, so he switched into the English he'd learned from his tutors as he spoke his greeting, hoping she would understand.

It appeared as though she tried to respond, and he smiled once again as he pulled down her gag, then he continued. "Do you understand my words?" He also knew Latin, German, and a bit of French, but beyond that communicating with her would be an issue. He brushed a hair out of her face and looked at her, finding her features and pale skin a true novelty. She was dust-covered though-her legs and face especially. He turned back to the harem, switching to his native tongue. "Please, prepare a bath for her."

He smiled back at the English girl, glad that she understood him, and mostly ignoring the bite in her voice. But he does pull her a bit more forcefully than he needs to when he lifts her to her feet, dragging her up against him. He enjoys the closeness for just a moment, pinning her tight enough that he can largely ignore her struggles. Then he guides her toward one of the baths as it has been prepared for her. "You will be cleaned-my other ladies will help you bathe, and then you will be properly dressed."

Jemeil was tempted to stay and watch the bathing process-it could be quite sensual, but he other matters to attend to. He turned toward the door on his way out. "Once you have been prepared, you will attend me in my quarters tonight. What shall I call you?" He smiled and nodded as she gave her name, but said nothing else before he slipped out.
 
Elizabeth was scared she was truly trembling but this man acted as if was a simple thing. He said she was his and so she was, Elizabeth was outraged and her eyes were lancing him with her rage. As the Prince removed a her gag and brushed a hair from her face she was tempted to bite his royal finger but she was restrained and naked so it was best not to push her luck. Of course this did not stop her tongue "Yes I understand English, I am English! Did you think I would be as uncivilized as your men" she looked him up and down clearly implying he was uncivilized as well even if she didn't say it.

He ordered the other women to prepare her a bath, and while her body was sore and dirty she did not relish the idea of being so exposed to him, her face paled at the idea as it was she was still trying to hunch and cover her body from his view. A difficult task while you try to glare at someone who is standing over you.

Elizabeth squealed a little in surprise when he pulled her forcibly to her feet and pulled her so close against him she could feel his hard body contrasting to her soft form, she could feel the heat of his body. Her bare chest pressed to his naked body. Elizabeth was helpless to resist his control, She still had her hands bound behind her back but worse was that her mouth went dry and her eyes went wide as she looked into his eyes and listened to his words.

Prince Jemeil dragged her towards the bath and for a fleeting moment she thought he was going to see to the task himself, she blushed at the very idea and cast her eyes down wanting to sink into the floor or to cover her body but it was futile he gazed over her as he wished the whole room could. When he told her the other ladies would bath her Elizabeth protested "I can do it myself, I ....I do not know these women" she could not believe that he would suggest a total stranger would bath her, Sarah had assisted her of course but she had known her chamber maid her whole life.

Her protests ignored by the Prince and by the ladies who seemed intent on pleasing him and obeying his wishes, They filled the bath and ready oils and cloths to wash and dry her with. She was relieved when he turned and headed towards the door she let out her breath and allowed her shoulders to relax. A mistake because as he got to the door he turned and told her that she would be joining him after her bath and she did not miss the implication of the demand.

She blushed and glared at him all at the same time never had she been so insulted, she took a step towards him and then stopped realizing that she was very much exposed and that her hands were still bound "My Name is Elizabeth Mary Beckingham, Miss Beckingham to you and I will not be joining you to "attend you" I do not care who you are" she glared at him defiantly.

He didn't care he simply smiled and left.......how dare he, she turned to the other women in the room unsure if they spoke English or not, she thanked one as she removed the bindings from her hands and tried to protest as another ushered her towards the bath. But it was useless they were slaves they were doing as the Prince commanded Elizabeth could not fault them for that. So instead she took comfort in the warmth of the bath and the beautiful smell of the oils.

Elizabeth stood in the middle of the bath while one of the ladies poured a warm pitcher of water over her head and body and then began to lather her hair with some special oil and another woman began to sponge and lather her body slowly circling with the sponge and squeezing it so that the warm water ran down her body over her round firm breasts and her slim waist and rounded hips, it was heavenly. Elizabeth closed her eyes and enjoyed this moment of heaven.

The bathing complete Elizabeth grew nervous, as she was dried and then presented with, material. She could not call them clothes for they concealed nothing they were sheer and flimsy and she blushed at the thought of walking around in them, but quickly realized it was better them then no clothes at all.

Once she was dressed and her hair brushed she was taken by two guards and escorted through the palace and into a dark room and pushed down onto some silk bedding. She had tried to protest and fought but they had bruised her arms with the force and threatened her with knives.

Her heart was pounding and she was scared of what was to come.........

 
Jemeil entered his bedroom just after dark, quickly shedding his vest on his way in. He went to the water stand and poured himself a glass of water, throwing it back and sighing, before he realized that his newest mistress was already waiting for him. He scooped up another glass and filled it with water, bringing it over to her in offering, handing to her before he steps back to admire her body. "Yes...much better. You're quite breathtaking now that you've been cleaned, Elizabeth." He certainly had no regard for the fact that she wanted to be called Miss Beckingham-she was his now, and he'd call her as he liked. Though it was becoming clear that she didn't quite understand the terms of her servitude. But, he though with a smile while he studied her, she would learn very soon.

He now sat down next to her on the bed, his eyes still lingering on her hungrily, and as he came closer, he detected the faint scent of the oils used to bathe her. With that aroma tickling his nose, he asked carefully, "Did you enjoy your bath, my pet?" He smiled back at her, not really caring about her response, as he crawled closer to her on the very large spread of silk sheets that covered his mattress, very much the predator stalking his prey. His eyes grew dark with desire while he watched her, very much intending to make his claim on this fair-skin novelty that graced his sheets. She backed away, as expected, and he lunged at her, grabbing at her arm, catching it and pulling her toward him.

Prince Jemeil then managed to catch at her other arm and holds them together in front of him, trapping both of her wrists with one hand. His gaze slid down her body, still the hungry desire behind his eyes. He held her tightly again, as he had before in the harem, feeling once again the warmth of her body against his. He marveled at the soft feel of her skin-softer seemingly than any women he'd ever been with. He slid his free hand across her shoulder, and then down her back, tracing along her spine and back, his caress almost possessive. The exploring hand traced around her collarbone, testing against her skin carefully, before dragging down the front of her chest, his finger sliding between her breasts before tracing across one of her nipples. He ignored her wriggling and jostling as his hand continued moving south, across her stomach, and then down to the treasure trove between her thigh, his hand cupping against her center experimentally.

"Have you been with a man before, Elizabeth? Oh, no matter." He smiled a dark smile and his lips pressed down on hers to claim them, stifling her protests. His kiss was just as hungry and possessive as the rest of his had promised to be, smothering her lips with his own.
 
Elizabeth watched him like a scared animal, her eyes followed him around the room and her body was tense ready to dash away and out of reach at the first sign of danger. She watched the well toned muscles of his back and arm flex as he threw back a glass of water, it seemed he had not yet noticed her or didn't care to notice her which suited her just fine. Then he turned and his gaze fell on her, she held her breath for a moment and tried to cover up her barely concealed body.

He filled another glass with water and brought it over to her, she looked from the glass and to his eyes and back to the glass as if it was poison but she took it and scooted back a little as she took a sip to quench her dried mouth. His eyes explored her body and he praised what he saw but it only made Elizabeth nervous, her hand trembled with the glass and she quickly set it down so she did not spill it or break it.

He continued to look at her and then sat down on the side of the mattress and asked her about her bath, of course Elizabeth blushed and shifted a little trying to conceal herself more " I feel better now that I am clean thank you, but I would be better if I could wear some normal clothes and go home to my uncle" she said quite plainly and as calmly as she could but there was no doubt she was very nervous and uncomfortable.

She gasped when he moved and began to stalk towards her crawling along the bed like some large beast, she moved back as far as she could and looked around wildly for an escape. Elizabeth murmured for him to stay back but it was cut off by her scream when he lunged for her and pulled her to him. Shock and fear were clear on her face her eyes wide and her heart pounding as she tried to fight free. He gripped both her wrist together "let me go, unhand me" she hissed and struggled further.

Her eyes blazed with anger as he began to explore her body with his free hand, she shivered as his hand slid down her spine and then growled in anger as he touched her neck and her breast she thrashed about like a wild beast trying to be free. "Do not touch me" she was glaring at him and trying to pull away but he just held her in place and explored her like an object. She burned with embarrassment and fear when his hand slid down and he cupped her womanhood she was so shamed by his boldness "How dare you" she hissed at him again and tears of frustration and anger began to roll down her cheeks.

Elizabeth was thrashing and pulling away from him as hard as she could but his grip was like an iron vice it just held her in place and he touched her as freely as he liked, he then had the audacity to ask her such a shameful question, of course she was a virgin. No man had ever dared to treat her lik this and her cheeks turned red with both embarrassment and anger. She was about to tare into him with her words, she thought him a beast vile beast and she would have told him so. But he silenced her completely, he cut her off with his mouth crashing down on hers and silencing her with his possessive kiss.

She tried to close her mouth but he was brutal and forced his kiss on her she murmured and winced and tried with all her might to pull away. Elizabeth finally got one hand free enough to swing it back and slap him hard across the face. "NO!!" She screamed at him and It startled him she could tell but the look he gave her made her blood run cold, Elizabeth backed away from him as far as she could her eyes darting around for an escape a sign of help something to protect her from him.
 
Prince Jemeil could sense the girl's embarrassment in his arms. He decided that she must have been a virgin, with her reactions-either that, or she was really opposed to the way he touched her. And he knew too well his own good looks to believe she couldn't enjoy his attentions at some level. Her inexperience was intriguing, especially her reluctance to succumb to his intentions. Not that she would have much choice in the matter. He was certainly that, eventually, she would be crying out her passion before he could get her thighs apart. It would certainly require a bit of coaching. He knew exactly how to achieve it.

As his lips closed upon hers, he savored her taste-so different from the women he was used to. A very exotic flavor she carried. He tried to ponder exactly what was different as she wriggled in his arms, and she took advantage of his distraction to free her arm and then slap him, full handed, across the face. He was so shocked by the contact that he let her go, and she backed up desperately. His eyes caught hers, and he held the contact, holding her as a viper holds a bird, until his hand gripped the scimitar he kept bedside. In one swift motion, he'd drawn it and held the sharp edge against her throat.

Jemeil gestures with his free hand, guiding her back to the bed, not saying anything immediately. As she sits, he releases the pressure of the sword from her neck, but keeps it in his hand for the moment. "So you wish to escape, do you?" His eyes glances out the window, at the night scape of his city beyond, and seemingly pierce into the miles of desert beyond that. He takes a deep breath and then looks back down to Elizabeth, meeting her eyes.

"You don't realize your plight, properly. I could grant one container of water to aid your escape. Without a guide in the vast desert beyond my city, you'd be dead in less than a weak. You don't know how to find water. You are unused to the heat and don't know how to shelter yourself. There's no hope in fleeing." Jemeil's eyes scanned down her body very suggestively, admiring her form as he stepped in closer. He plants a surprising delicate kiss to her cheek now as he looks at her. "You begin to see now, don't you?" He could tell she was beginning to process this as he watched.

"Besides that, with this..." he extends a hand to run a finger through her reddish hair, "...and being dressed like that...you would not make it to the city gates. You'd be raped a dozen times before you could get even close." He smiles, wondering if she might actually consider that compliment, as horrible as it was. But she was very stunning-he was very fortunate to have had such a prize fall practically into his lap, as she had. If she tried to flee the palace, it was likely his own most loyal guards might even attempt to seize advantage before returning her. Her position was rather tenuous.

"So you wish to return to your uncle, do you?" he began once more. "He treats you well, I take it?" He doesn't really care for her response as he continues. "What would your parents want from you, I wonder? I imagine to marry a wealthy, handsome man, and to be surrounded by luxury and comfort for the rest of the days. And you see, this is precisely what you've been offered. Perhaps the means are not what you expected, but there is much to be offered."
 
Elizabeth was scared out of her mind when he came at her with that huge knife, she thought he was going to kill her or cut her meager clothes away again and leave her naked and even more at his mercy then she was. She was trembling and her heart was pounding so fiercely she could hear it in her ears it was deafening. He guided her back to the bed the blade at her throat she didn't dare swallow let alone disagree she sat on the bed and looked up at him her fear clear.

He drew the sword away from her throat and began to speak, still she did not move because the sword was still firmly grasped in his hand and she knew she had no choice but to sit and listen, she was his prisoner. She listened to him and the more he spoke and outlined her options or lack there of...the more the colour drained from her face and she realized how hopeless she was, she was at his complete mercy and it turned her stomach. She lowered her eyes unable to look at him her grief flowing over her.

Her shoulders slumped and then he mentioned her uncle and she looked up at him her eyes flashing with her true feelings, "he is my Uncle in name and blood but not because I deem him worth of the title, he is a coward he let your men take me without even a word of protest or a movement of defense. I was a burden to him a slave just like I an now to you" She spat the words out angry and emotional. Her thoughts went to her parents and she wanted to cry,oh how she missed them oh how she loved them.
 
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As Elizabeth answered, she seemed to be on the verge of tears. Prince Jemeil had to consider this for a moment-he hadn't expected her to either resist so vehemently, nor to suddenly be overcome by a wellspring of emotion. Anger, he'd expected, even a bit of concern for those left behind, but she appeared to be wallowing in her own personal misery. He wasn't quite sure how to respond to that. It was clear, however, he wouldn't needing the knife any more, so he set that to one side for the moment.

The hopeless look in her eye was one thing-that made him feel powerful and important, strong. But he could do much better than that for finding that feeling with beautiful women, as he well knew. He was very confident in this. And since Elizabeth was in pain, his natural instinct was to comfort her. For now, at least. She'd be sharing his bed tonight regardless of how she felt right now. He smiled to think of how her face would then morph from despair into lust...and pure pleasure.

Jemeil slid closer to her along her the bed and then pulled her against his chest in a tender embrace. His arms held her close for a moment and he let her feel the warmth of his body against hers, and rested her head against his shoulder. His hands move down across her back and across her skin. They're not feeling her out like they had just done a moment ago, but they were caressing her skin, massaging. "It sounds like your uncle was not a very nice man, my dear. But here, you will be taken care of-your every comfort assured. Is that not grand?" Jemeil turned to look into her eyes and held his face close to hers, his eyes shining grandly.

His lips dipped down to hers now, kissing her once again, but without the urgency or possessiveness of earlier. It was a much more soothing kiss, meant to comfort rather than dominate. He could change his approach, every now and again, to suit the needs of the girl in his arms. He should show her quite a deal about that later.
 
Elizabeth tried to resist as he folded her into his arms and drew her head to his shoulder, but her resistance failed as he began to sooth her gently with his soft caress and the warmth of his body. She had been through so much today and over the last months, it was nice to feel the protection and warmth of someone.

Her body began to lose the tension and she closed her eyes and listened to him speak. Was he right would this be a better life for her? She was tempted to surrender to that idea, but that would mean giving herself to a man she did not love and who did not love her.....she couldn't do that, she was not some common whore. Elizabeth was about to tell the Prince what she thought when his mouth brushed against hers again, this time the kiss was soft and sweet and it made her breath catch.

Elizabeth looked into his eyes, she was so nervous and confused, her mind swirled with acceptance and reluctance. On one hand he promised her stability and security but on the other hand she would be one of many and an object for him to use as he saw fit. She lowered her eyes and whispered "Prince Jemeil...please I have bed with no man, I can not please you" she pressed her hands against his chest lightly and her head lowered. She hoped he would send her back to the harem room choose one of his many brides to lay with him this night.

The fire and determination to leave was dying down, she knew he was right she had no place to go...but she still could not quiet accept her situation...she was his and at his mercy.
 
Prince Jemeil felt some growing affection toward the girl he now held in his arms, and he wrapped her up gently in his arms. He was not well used to a woman of her delicacy, and she remained a fascination to him. Though he desired her and had an urge to sample her charms, she clearly was not properly prepared for such a treat. his hands moved against her skin and he softly kissed her cheek, his voice a whisper to her ears. "Oh, I assure you that you can please me, and that you will, Elizabeth." His voice became more seductive with a slight growl. "And you shall be very much pleased yourself, as well."

Jemeil smiled and pulled away slightly, tilting her head back so that she met his eyes with her own. He wanted to see into her eyes, to know what desires might lay hidden there, and to see just what was behind his own. If she had truly never seen a man's visage darken with passion, she would definitely see it tonight-one way or another. And then he set about to the task of warming her up properly-his hands began to caress her tenderly, on her lower back and then moving up her sides with a very light touch, and he pressed his lips against her skin.

"Trust me, my dear, I do know ways to make your dress wriggle down your legs to pool at the floor of its own accord..." He smirked softly as he spoke, feeling his confidence grow. He'd long been a talented lover, the end result of being surrounded by women from a young age. He let his lips drag across Elizabeth's skin one more and then he dragged a hand across her thighs, parting them, and glancing once more at the treasures between her legs. Treasures he would pluck, sooner or later. "Just relax and enjoy yourself for a moment." Truly, he had expected the girl to resist his charms a bit longer than she had, under the circumstances.
 
Elizabeth was in a sort of trance, he was warm and his all male smell caused her to lick her lips as if she wanted to taste him. She had never felt like this before, no one had ever touched her or kissed her in this way. The Prince began to caress her more boldly and his lips so warm and soft met her skin in tingling kisses that caused Elizabeth to shiver slightly and her breath to hitch slightly. It was like she was melting, slowly oozing into a hot pool.

She closed her eyes for a moment and let her breath out and relaxed against this temptation, that was until she realized what was happening....he was seducing her, he admitted as much with his cocky arrogance about removing her clothes of their own accord. Elizabeth shifted away abruptly as his hand grazed between her thighs and she uselessly clung the sheer material around her body as if it shielded her from his gaze. "Don't you dare touch me" she said weakly and breathlessly as she tried to muster her control again.

She closed her thighs and looked at him as she slid further across the mattress away from him, "I'm not a whore nore like your other SLAVES Prince Jemeil" she spat the words out in an unpleasant tone. "I may not have a choice but to stay here but that does not mean I will just offer myself to you like some object of no importance"

Elizabeth slid from the bed and went toward the window to look out at the dessert, truthfully she was trying to calm herself down her heart was pounding so much she could feel it in her temples and her hands had a slight shake to them, she was not use to avoiding such advances or being held prisioner.........or was it being offered a life. She really was confused, part of what he said rang true she did not have many options left but she was too frightened to give in....wasn't she worth more then that shouldn't he love her?
 
Jemeil felt the girl's will melting beneath his caresses, her body responding to him and overriding her mind. It was very revealing-she was obviously unused to such blatant advances, and had built no defenses up for resisting this sort of stimulation. He smiled as he traced his fingertips down to cup Elizabeth's thigh, slowly, prepared to tug her legs apart and show her what sort of pleasures he offered, before taking his own.

Then the girl's personality seemed to re-exert itself once again. He felt her withdraw again, her body curling up defensively once again with a sudden recoil. The taste of her skin lingered on his tongue for the moment as he looked up to meet her eyes, which were full of conflict and torment, and he met them with his own as she tried to cover up her body once again. Her insistent that he not touch her was perhaps supposed to be a shout, but it came out more of a breathy whisper to a lover than anything else. She was trying to catch her breath.

He found himself incredibly aroused by the entire notion.

Rather than clutching back at her forcefully, he allowed her to slide away, even off the bed as she went toward the window. He followed her over, slowly, approaching from behind her. He glanced out at the night sky over the desert, and then down at the city below. It was a particularly clear night, and he felt a fondness springing up in his heart for the excellent view, of a woman bathed in the warm light of candles and the moonlight shining into the room.

"It really is beautiful, is it not?" Jemeil said as he situated himself behind Elizabeth. He reached down and found her hands, trembling, and gripped then in his own strong grip as he looked outside, then he lowered his eyes to her face once more. He then pulled her hands up, to his lips, kissing the backs of her hands genially, in an attempt to soothe her nervousness. And then he smiled wickedly and gave her a harsh tug back to the bed.

"So you think my other wives are nothing but common whores do you? Well, perhaps it would be fitting if I were to offer a proper...demonstration for you." His smile held a dangerous light in it as he pulled her down to the bed, and she found her garment-for what it was worth-being very swiftly and forcefully removed from her person. She was tossed back down against the bed, and Jemeil climbed back in, ripping the garment in a smooth gesture, and then using it to tie each of her hands to the corner bedposts. He looked down at the treasures between her thighs once again, untouched by any man, but he kept himself restrained for the moment, despite feeling his appetite rising up.

He then walked over to the door, and gave a quiet message to the guards on his bedchambers, "Fetch Jezelle." He glanced back over his shoulder, watching Elizabeth on the bed for a moment, as the guard left and then returned a few moments later with the requested woman. He smiled at her and brought her into his bedroom-Elizabeth would recognize her as one of those who had earlier assisted in her bathing.

Jezelle smiled broadly at her Prince and pressed up against him suggestively, her body swaying as she walked with him back toward the bed. She leaned up to kiss him, and he kissed her back very hungrily, his hands running over her body. They exchanged a few warm words in a language Elizabeth did not understand, at the end of which Jezelle gave off a throaty laugh. She turned to stand facing Elizabeth at the foot of the bed, with the Prince directly behind her. Her dark green eyes flashed down to meet Elizabeth's, with a mischievous twinkle, and she stood still as Jemeil reached around to undress her body. Her silk dress slid smoothly off of her form and pooled at her feet, and she sighed as the Prince's hands moved over her. Her body seemed smooth and soft, and her hair down below was neatly trimmed. She reached back to slip her hand into the top of his pants, and he groaned softly before playfully swatting away her hand and kissing the back of her neck. Then he addressed Elizabeth in English.

"Jezelle, here, knows just what manner of pleasures I can provide, and she's more than willing to demonstrate how strongly she enjoys the opportunity to demonstrate them for you. So for tonight, you shall watch." With that, Jemeil released his pants and dropped them to the floor as well, baring himself fully, and then bending Jezelle over double before him, her hands resting on the foot of the bed.
 
He allowed her to move and for a moment Elizabeth relaxed and let out the breath she held as she looked out across the city. But soon she sucked in that breath again and held it when she felt his body heat wrap around behind her, and his rich deep voice caressed her so close from behind. She trembled slightly and the hairs on the back of her neck stood up on end.

She swallowed and tried to calm her heart it felt as though it would pound out of her chest, he asked her thoughts on the city but she was distracted by his hands linking with her own and she looked down and the back to the window and tried to find her voice ......."ye.." the word died on her lips as he brought her hand to his lips and kissed them, she was mesmerized for a moment thinking he was being tender.

Then in he roughly tugged her to the bed and threw her down like a rag, and began removing her clothes telling her he was going to demonstrate a what a whore his wives were, she was frozen in fear and trembling mortified to be naked before him yet again. Humiliation and fear froze her and caused her to feel nauseous and sick as her head swirled in panic, He secured her to the bed with ease and practiced speed.

She began too wiggle and panic and pant in fear protesting with whimpers of fear as she pulled against the restraints, then he stood and moved away from her..she followed his movements with wide eyes hoping to god he wasn't going for the sword again, then he made a request for someone named Jezelle, Elizabeth did not know who this was until her eyes fell on one of the women who had bathed her. Surely he would not humiliate Elizabeth further by letting his whore watch him rape and defile her......

Then they were at the end of the bed and Elizabeth tugged on her restraints as Jezelle looked down at her like a cat who got the canary, she wanted to slap the woman for looking at her in such away. She watched the Prince roam his hands all over her body, and she all over him. Elizabeth's cheeks burned with heat and she tried to look away but was drawn back to the scene when Jezelle moaned.

Jezelle turned and removed the Princes pants exposing his manhood to Elizabeth the first she had ever seen and it was huge and engorged. She gasped in shocked and looked from it to the Princes eyes and then to Jezelle who looked very pleased with herself. Elizabeth panicked this was it he was going to rape her and this witch was going to help him she screamed "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO" at the top of her lungs. The need to release the fear an anger over coming her, she knew it was pointless but despite that she couldn't help it.
 
Prince Jemeil smiled, feeling his passions rising as he watched Jezelle bend over before him, his eyes looking down to her well-groomed center. He reached down with one hand to brush a thumb across her, eliciting a moan from Jezelle, who tossed her head back and moaned in pleasure at his caress. Jemeil allowed his hands to roam across the beauty's silky skin for a few moments, bringing forth enthusiastic responses from his willing woman, who pressed her hips backwards against him and wiggled up against his rapidly-hardening cock. Then the Prince lifted his eyes to the beauty tied to the bed and smiled while he continued to fondle Jezelle.

"No? No, indeed, I suppose I won't ravage you...yet. I merely wish to demonstrate firsthand the pleasures you deny yourself." His eyes locked on Elizabeth's and he smiled, letting her see the excitement and heat rising in his blood from the erotic nature of his contact with Jezelle. He adjusted Jezelle, slightly, to ensure that Elizabeth would have a decent view once he penetrated her. There was nothing to ensure she wouldn't look away, but Jemeil suspect that pure curiosity, if nothing else, would keep her eyes focused on the show he was putting on.

His attentions now reverted to his chosen diversion for the night, and he let his hard cock rub up against her pussy. He let her own juices lubricate him, as he played with her, getting the entirety of his length nice and moist. Jezelle's hands bundled up into fists in the sheets, as she gasped heavily for air, then laughed deeply and lasciviously, her voice giving a light squeak at the end. She glanced over her shoulder at the Prince, shaking her bottom at him invitingly, and then she bit her lip. Her eyes looked up from her pose as she bent over a bit farther, and she met Elizabeth's eyes with her own. They were dark, fiery, and almost seemed to glow with arousal.

Then they forced shut, an animalistic groan coming from her throat, as the Prince penetrated her, spearing her with his cock. Both of his hands rested on her hips, and he began to pump his hips against hers with a gentle pace, holding her hips still to maintain the gentle rhythm. He gave her a playful swat on the bottom, making Jezelle giggle amongst her moans. The Prince was moaning as well, his voice nearly a growl, his breath rasping against his throat, his head tossed back as he delighted in the slow pleasure of sliding into his favorite girl. He slowly built up the pace of his thrusting into Jezelle, and filled her deeper, and she began to rock back against her, her cries coming out higher in pitch, but her eyes found Elizabeth's once again and seemed to lock into that contact amongst her gyrations and appreciative noises.

Then the Prince did something that rattled all of Jezelle's self control. One of his hands left her hip and then slid down between her thighs, brushing across her clitoris in conjuction with his cock sliding into her. Jezelle's cries became more and more incoherent, sounding much more like the sounds of a frenzied animal, as she oscillated against the Prince's slick cock. The sounds rose in volume-the sound of his skin slapping into hers, the wet noises of their intimate touch, the sheets complaining about Jezelle's death grip on them. Her breasts shook freely, her nipples growing harder as they swayed with her motions. She seemed to grow more desperate in her motions for a moment, and then her cries cut off, as if the breath was stolen from her, her eyes rolling back. The Prince felt the familiar sensations of her body cumming for him, her pussy seeming to contract against his cock, the squirt of juices around it, but he continued thrusting into her, not slowing a bit, and she didn't miss a step either. She remained silent for a few moments, then seemed to find her breath as her first orgasm subsided.

Jemeil slowly felt himself growing close to cumming, but he held out longer, letting Jezelle's arousal grow once more while he kept his own arousal in check, still filling her with his cock. His breath grew erratic, his heart pounding hard in his chest, and a light sheen of sweat began to coat his body from the exertion. He felt his muscles contracting and tightening on his body, more visibly clenched than they had been when he'd started. When Jezelle finally began to approach the brink once again, the Prince let himself go, slowing down in favor of hard, deep thrusts, each one accompanied by a shriek. Once the Prince felt his balls tightening, he held her hips in place and planted his cock deep inside of her, filling her with his seed, and she moan back against him as his eruption pushed her over the edge once again.

Once he was finally finished, the Prince slowly withdrew from Jezelle, who appeared on the verge of collapse. He supported her, tenderly, and her eyes fell shut, as she was exhausted, and he helped her to a pallet in the corner of the room with pillows, made as a spare sleeping space for servants.
 
Elizabeth was disgusted by what was taking place she tried to close her eyes but the sounds and the smells washed over her body like a warm caress teasing her eyes to open. She wriggled in her restraints and tried to ignore the responses the erotic scene invoked in her, her body tingled as if it was caressed with a soft feather.

Her nipples forming hard little rose peeks on the soft white cushions of her breasts. She hissed in her breath and tried again to be free but the wriggling on the satin sheet only added to the sensation as the cool fabric slide over her skin like a lovers hands.

The Prince's whore was looking at Elizabeth full of lust and desire , Elizabeth's cheeks burned with embarrassment and shame. Between her thighs was hot and wet and she could feel the heat licking at her body like a flame. She closed her eyes and tried to shut out the sinful act taking place at the end of the bed, she just wanted to cover her body and her shame. Never in her life had she felt like this. "Damn you " she hissed but her curse fell on deaf ears as the whore and the prince screamed and moaned their release.

Elizabeth opened her eyes and licked her lips her mouth felt dry, she watched the Prince tenderly take his possession to a crate in the corner and tenderly lay her down, this caused Elizabeth's stomach to tremble it almost looked like love. She shook her head shaking away the thought and began to pull on her restraints again she wanted to escape this man and the shame she felt at responding to such vile indecent acts "you disgust me" she glared at the Prince and watched as he approached her again. He looked like a wild beast, his body was sweaty and his breath was making his chest heave with each breath.
 
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Jemeil smiled down at Jezelle as he set her down on the spare sleeping space, leaning down to give her a soft kiss on the forehead as she settled in. Her eyes had fluttered open briefly with a smile and then she'd immediately closed them again and was nearly asleep by the time he'd straightened up. It was a bit later than the usual hours his women were used to keeping, and she was clearly quite exhausted. The smile on his own face lingered on his lips as he turned back to Elizabeth, and he eyed her lovely pale frame still restrained on his bed. He let his eyes slide across her frame, and made note of her signs of arousal-hardened nipples, flushed skin, irregular breathing.

He walked back over to her, unashamed of his nudity, and then stood at the foot of the bed over her. "Do I really disgust you, Elizabeth?" He glanced down between her legs, where her thighs were writhing together, and his smile broadened even further. He stared down at her face and held her gaze. His eyes were sparkling with amusement. He felt his arousal rising back up once again, despite the thorough session he'd just endured with Jezelle. He laughed slightly and then positioned himself at the foot of the bed.

He peeked down at her thighs once again and then looked back up at Elizabeth's face. "It would seem that part of you, at least, is not disgusted by at all." Jemeil grabbed her ankles and then began to pull them apart, feeling her resistance but not really making much of it. She wasn't whole-hearted in it, and he was easily strong enough to force her, if he needed to. He suspected he wouldn't be, but he felt that she might need to be plied just a bit more before he enjoyed had his way with her. He still had ideas on his mind, though, which were readily apparent as his gaze slide up her thighs to rest on her sex. His head slowly leaned forward and his eyes were absolutely wicked as he smiled up at her face. "Let's see just how you feel."

His pressed his lips into the top of her thigh, enjoying the softness of her skin against his lips, and he smiled as he kissed a path up her thigh until his face was hovering directly over the curls of her sex. He looked down at it, his hot breast washing over it for a moment. He could tell she was moist, and he rested both of his hands on her thighs as he held still for a moment. Then one smooth gesture, he leaned in to her lips and ran his tongue across the full length of her. He paused for a moment, holding her juices in his mouth for a moment to savor the taste of her. He sighed, and then leaned in to give her another flicks of his tongue before pulling his head away.


He laughed and then slid out from between her legs to look down at her once again. He wasn't going to give her any more tonight-let her wriggle around for a bit in an aroused state-that would be a great seed to plant for later. Of course, it meant that he couldn't sleep in his own bed this night-she'd probably just kicked at him in her current state. He nodded as he turned away then, then hesitated for a moment. It was likely she'd kick up a fuss and make too much noise to let him sleep anyway. He looked back over his shoulder at her and smiled again. "Now, Elizabeth, if you promise to remain quiet so Jezelle and I can get some sleep, you won't have to be gagged for the rest of the night. I trust you'll agree to that? If no, you'll have to sleep with a wad of sheets stuffed into your mouth." He shrugged unaffectedly down at her, showing that it made little difference to him.
 
Elizabeth's body tingled, she was scared out of her mind but she also could feel a pool of heat in the pit of her stomach and between her thighs. She didn't understand it and it confused her completely. She was breathing heavy as he knelt beside her on the bed and let his eyes gaze over her. Elizabeth tried to hold her thighs together to obscure his view she blushed from her head to her toes she felt the heat flow over her body with his gaze.

She whimpered as he moved to her feet and began to part her thighs, she was scared she had never been with a man intimately and was terrified the prince was going to brutally take her, but still the look of satisfaction and desire on his whores face taunted and tempted her to surrender. She was shamed of this and wanted to scream in frustration so she tried to hold her legs together but it was useless the Prince was both strong and persuasive his voice caressed her senses and his closeness increased the tingle she felt in her private places.

His mouth was hot and sensual on her tender white thigh and it caused her to tremble and wriggle against the bed she wanted to protest but her mouth had gone dry and she couldn't form any words, and then his breath caressed her sex and she felt the moisture from her sex seep to the bed bellow, she was flushed and breathless mesmerized by the sensations he was causing her to feel and then his mouth was kissing her more intimately then anyone ever had.

Elizabeth bucked bellow him unable to stop her hips from lifting to his mouth she pulled on her restraints and whimpered in protest....or was it need she didn't know but then its stop....as suddenly as his assault began he stopped. She opened her eyes and looked at him, he was smug and amused this burned her and caused disgust to wash over her....but it was disgust in herself she had wanted him to continue.

She didn't respond to his words she closed her eyes and turned her head to face away from him bringing her thighs as close together as she could, she felt shame and she felt lust for the first time in her life.
 
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