Naked Female Degradation

This is a variant on an al-Dakar story, revised for big-titted Beth, who was the technical assistant and videographer up at the Insex Farm. It starts a little slowly, with some al-Dakar politics.  But then...it warms up.

The slave-girl Ameera is, of course, Beth. 

A Sultan’s Delight

 

A full moon had risen over the great city of al-Dakar;  but it was June and the desert heat no longer ended even with the coming of the night. 

On a high white-marble balcony within his vast palace, the Sultan of al-Dakar lounged on a red lacquered couch piled high with cushions.

 Sultan Ahmed was a big and vigorous man in his early thirties;  he was darkly handsome in the Arab fashion, though his eyes were a striking European blue.  He wore robes of the lightest white cotton--for al-Dakar in June was so hot that even princes wore cotton rather than silk.

The Sultan took another smoke from his bubble-pipe:  he was new to the throne, and he was thinking darkly about his political enemies.

 Though he was the eldest son of Sultan Farid the previous ruler, certain people opposed him. After Sultan Farid died from a fall from his famous white horse, there’d been a scene in the Council of Guidance with his ambitious younger brother Marzouk, who claimed that the old man had truly preferred…But even to think of this made Ahmed furious!

But the mood of the new Sultan immediately changed to contentment as he looked at the beautiful slave-girl Ameera, kneeling humbly on the huge cushion before him.

            Ameera had dark-brown hair that fell softly almost to her waist, and soulful dark eyes.  Her head was lowered submissively.  She was Ahmed’s newest, youngest pleasure-slave.

            She was completely nude.

            From the gardens below the balcony came the heavy sweet smell of flowers. And from far within the Sultan’s pleasure-harem, from behind its iron-barred windows, an angelic female voice was singing a slow, wailing love-song.

            The bright moonlight poured down like silver over Ameera’s naked body, and gleamed on the big ring through her right nostril, and the twin chains that linked it tautly to her right ear.  The moonlight gleamed on the tight collar of beaten gold fastened around her neck,  and on the frail glass bangles around her upper arms, hung with little silver bells;  they’d been slipped over the wrist as proof of the slimness of her hand.  Her dainty bare toes wore rings of rubies. 

            Ameera’s naked breasts with their dark-pink nipples were too big for her small frame, and they were sweaty in the intense heat of the night.  Her soft pale buttocks were sweaty too.  She shifted a little on her knees before the handsome Arab man.

            The high keening love-song went on and on—pleading, slow, insistent.

            From a wide leather strap fastened around Ameera’s waist, two tight silver chains ran down on either side of the girl’s crotch.  The chains isolated her pussy-lips—and pushed them forward for viewing and touching.  The lips were shaved totally smooth and bare, as was the custom in  the Sultan’s harem.  Completely exposed, the naked petals were big, burgundy-pink (like Ameera’s nipples), and elegantly convoluted.

            The two silver chains were cinched tightly together at the back of Ameera’s leather waist-strap.  They held inside Ameera an enormous Anal Trainer.  She wore  it tonight for the pleasure of the Sultan.  The Trainer was made of thick and hard sandalwood covered in leather,  and had been heavily lubricated.  It went so far up her rear passage—so far!  And it was so wide—her lotus felt so stretched!

             Nude Ameera shifted uncomfortably on her knees again, and gave a little sigh.  The jewelry on her face, her arms, and between her legs  jingled andglittered in the desert-white moonlight.

            “Ameera—be still!”, Sultan Ahmed commanded.  “Stop squirming!” 

             He reached forward and gently patted the naked girl’s silky tangled hair.  “Learn to accept the Anal Trainer, Ameera,” he said--“Think of it as me inside of you, deep inside of you…”

“Y..Yes, my Master…”, whimpered Ameera—and obeyed.  She went totally still.

         She closed her eyes, and thought of the huge leather Trainer as handsome Sultan Ahmed.  The Trainer was the biggest she’d ever had to accept into her behind.  Ameera knew that soon—perhaps tomorrow (or even tonight!)—the hard leather shaft would be replaced by Sultan Ahmed himself:  she was wide enough now.  The Sultan would take her—take her lotus—in public, as the final sign of her total submission to him.  He would do it in front of the entire harem—before all the other naked pleasure-girls.

 Ameera could already imagine her cries and squeals as he did it, the pounding of her bare feet on the harem floor;  she could already hear the giggles and clapping of the other naked girls…

She suddenly raised her lovely dark-haired head, her nose-chains clinking in the moonlight, her dark poetic eyes wide:

“I’m wet, Master!”, she cried—“The lips of my pussy—they’re soaking wet!  Touch them!”

“Of course they’re wet!”, laughed Lord Ahmed.  He reached one powerful hand down between her naked white thighs, to fondle the bare drippy lips.  Ameera shivered at his touch—she’d grown to love it so!  The big Arab man thumbed her tiny pink clit—her little button—and she gave a squeal of passion.

“Good,” said the Sultan.  He bent down and kissed her—long and deeply—on the mouth.  She responded eagerly with her tongue, and threw her naked arms around his neck, hugging him tightly to herself.

“Oh, my MASTER…”, she whispered.

After a long moment, Sultan Ahmed disengaged Ameera’s delicate hands from around his neck.

“Now, girl:  Play with your nipples for me!”, he commanded.  “The nipples!”  He lounged back on the red-lacquered couch.

“Y..Yes, my Master…I play with my nipples for you…”  The bells on Ameera’s bare upper arms jingled as she began to quickly squeeze and pull on herself.  Squeeze and pull…squeeze tight, pull harder….Pinch them for the Master!

Ameera’s nipples, always dark and a little sore-looking, became swollen and empurpled now with passion. She worked them more and more:  the jingling of her little bells was louder, joined by the jingling of her nose-chains.

All over the harem, naked young girls were sighing, and opening their bare legs:  they knew what the jingling sounds meant.  The singer, in her high angelic voice, began a faster song.

Nude Ameera’s hips were swinging back and forth now, back and forth before the Master:  making little shameless movements of desire.

She slipped a slender hand between her legs, and began to fondle her big bare pussy-lips:  she couldn’t help it!  Up and down her fingers went, up and down.  Her hips swayed back and forth.  

“Now push the Anal Trainer into you, Ameera—up your rear canal.  Deep.  Fast.”

“Y..Yes, Master,” Ameera gasped. She slid her other hand around to her behind and began to shove the Trainer, push it, twist it...

Ameera’s rosebud mouth fell open, her dark eyes closed with passion.  She was fondling herself faster and faster in front, and shoving the huge Trainer deeper and deeper in back, pushing it deeper and deeper, quicker and quicker…

She gasped at the feelings the Anal Trainer was creating inside of her.  And she pushed it in harder, faster, over and over.

            Ameera’s tits and buttocks were gleaming with sweaty effort now;  the young girl’s beautiful naked body was almost glowing in the milky moonlight.  Suddenly her right hand began to smack her chained pussy-lips and she smacked them and smacked them again and again—like she always did before a cum.  And then she arched herself upwards from her knees, upwards, her big bare breasts heaving, her young muscles all contracting, and then--crying “Oooo, Oooo, Oooo, OHHH!”-- Ameera came, came, CAME., CAME, CAME.

            Gasping for breath and shiny with sweat, she collapsed over on the huge soft cushion.

            But Sultan Ahmad looked down sternly at his naked slave.

            “You didn’t ask permission for your cum,” was all he said.  He reached for a large riding crop of red leather.

            The beautiful nude girl stared up at him wide-eyed, her long dark hair disheveled.  It was true!  In her passion, in her desire, she’d forgotten to ask permission  to come!  Ohhh…she knew what was going to happen now.

             “I’m sorry, Master—it was the Anal Trainer,” she whispered.  “It made me so excited…Please…”

            “No,” said Ahmed—“You came without permission.  It is not allowed.  Punishment must follow.  That is the way of the harem.”

He tapped his riding crop on the palm of his hand. “I give you a choice of Punishments, Ameera.  We can chain you up between the two Pillars of Punishment over there”—his riding crop pointed to the two white-marble pillars at the other end of the balcony—“and you get thirty on your buttocks…”

             Oooo, that would hurt!, thought Ameera.

             “Or…?”, she asked timidly.

             “You’ve seen my guard-dogs?”

             “Y..Yes…”  Those huge Neapolitan mastiffs—so ugly, so brutish.  They scared her—they scared all the naked harem girls—so much!

              “You know where their kennel is?”

               “Y..Yes, Master,” came a tiny reply—“Down the hall from the entrance to the harem…”

                “Exactly.  The other choice, Ameera, is:  I send you to spend the rest of tonight nude and with your legs bound and spread wide—in the kennel with the dogs.

                 “Oh NO!”, cried the naked young girl.

                “Can you imagine?”, continued the Sultan—“The one called Big Omar, you know, he likes to lick pussy.  He finds the smell enticing…Other harem-girls have found that out…”

               “Please, Master,” Ameera pleaded—“NO!  Anything but the dogs! WHIP me instead!  Whip me hard!  Make me scream!  But not the dogs!”

                 Ahmed’s smile was cruel.  “All right—you have made your choice.”

                 There were tears in Ameera’s dark poetic eyes.  She wiped them away with one delicate hand.  “Th..Thank you, Master,” she whimpered.

            To the Punishment Pillars, then!”,  Sultan Ahmed commanded.

His voice was hard.  It wasn’t only her failure to ask permission for her cum that made him angry with Ameera now.  There was something else. He knew she was involved with his political opponents.  He knew she’d been sent by them into his harem…

            The Sultan raised his right hand high and--Whp-WHP!--his riding crop snapped on the girl’s big pale breasts.

            “OH!”, cried Ameera.  And then:  “Y..Yes, my Master, I go to the Punishment Pillars…” The naked young girl turned around on her knees and—moving quickly on all fours—began to cross the balcony of pure white marble. 

She was followed closely by the big vigorous man in white robes.  The  Sultan towered over Ameera.  He smacked the red-leather crop down occasionally on her soft sweet buttocks, to keep up her pace—WHP!

            On her hands and knees, the thin chains on her naked body clinking slightly, beautiful Ameera came up to the Punishment Pillars.  With a whimper she bent her head and gently kissed the Pillars’ metal bases--first one, then the other.  This was always required of a girl about to be Punished.

            “Good,” said the Sultan.

            The Pillars of Punishment were two round columns of white marble that from the edge of the balcony overlooked the fragrant flowers of the palace garden.  Each pillar was nine feet high.  Each had a circumcised mushroom-shaped head from which there dangled a pair of heavy golden wrist-cuffs on a permanent chain.  There were leather straps hanging at waist height, and other cuffs of gold attached to the circular metal bases of the Pillars.

              The Punishment Pillars had been the idea of Sultan Ahmed’s great grandfather, in whose reign the sea of oil underneath al-Dakar had been discovered. After that, the rulers of al-Dakar could buy—or in the case of European girls, kidnap—as many captives for the Pleasure Harem as they wished.

 Generations of naked, crying, shouting young harem girls had found themselves being Punished—savagely Punished—chained between the Pillars. The marble floor between the Pillars was darkly stained.

            “UP on your feet now!”, commanded  Ahmed. 

            Nude Ameera rose obediently to her sweet bare feet.  Her hands were behind were down at her sides.  Her heart was pounding.

            “Step between the Pillars and spread your arms—hold your arms up and out to either side.”

            Ameera brushed her dark, tangled hair away from her eyes.

            “Y..Yess, Master…”, she whispered. The beautiful naked girl stepped daintily between the Pillars and lifted her arms to either side of her. 

Now Sultan Ahmed firmly gripped Ameera’s slim right wrist and lifted it further up;  then he locked it into the golden cuff that hung on its chair—CLICK!  Then he did the same with her left wrist—CLICK!

Even at night the white marble Pillars were warm to the touch from the desert heat. 

The  Sultan now took the straps that were at waist height and, drawing them taut, cinched them tight around Ameera’s waist, just above the beginning swell of her soft buttom-cheeks.

“Umm…”, went the naked girl.

“Yes,” said Ahmed—and cinched the leather straps even tighter. 

Ameera gasped.

“Now spread the legs!”, commanded Ahmed.

“Y..Yes, Master…” Ameera whimpered a little, but did as she was told.  She pushed her bare legs as wide apart between the Pillars as she could.

Ameera bit her lip—she was wet again!

Ahmed bent down briefly and locked Ameera’s ankles—first the left, then the right—into the golden ankle-cuffs that lay attached to the base of each Pillar.  CLICK-CLICK!  CLICK-CLICK!

Ameera’s beautiful bare body was now tautly spread-eagled between the two great marble pillars—held tight by gold cuffs at her raised wrists and at her ankles, and a tight leather strap around her waist.  Her sweet jeweled toes were fondling themselves nervously... 

            “Now, Ameera,” demanded Ahmed—“WHAT are you supposed to do when you’re about to have a cum?”  His right hand, holding the red riding crop was raised high above his head.

            “I..I’m supposed to ask permis—“

            WHP-WHP! 

            The crop cracked sharply down on Ameera’s  bare bottom and the Arab girl cried out.

            “WHAT is it you’re supposed to do?”, the Sultan asked sternly again sternly.

            “I am supposed to ask permission for my cum, Master!”, Ameera squealed.  “Ask permis—“

            WHP-WHP!

           “OWW!”

           Ameera gasped under Ahmed’s blows—WHP-WHPP!—but she could barely move!  WHP-WHPP!

She tried to think of something else, something nice, tried to remember how Master’s huge cock had cum and cum and cum inside her pussy four times yesterday—and four times in her mouth the day before…

Master’s cream had been so thick!  so HOT!

WHP-WHP!  Oh, now she wanted him so badly!

She cried at each blow, shouted—but every snap of the whip on her naked body, on her sweaty bare bottom, felt like another hot kiss from Him.

            WHP-WHPP!

            “UHH!”

            WHP-WHPP!

          The beautiful naked girl was wriggling her body between the Pillars, jerking on her chains.

            Sultan Ahmed smiled. 

            Then the big handsome man reached forward and gave a push on the heart-shaped base of Ameera’s huge Anal Trainer, shoving the great leather-covered wooden shaft deeper up her rear passage.

            “Uhhh!”, cried Ameera—and then: “Th..Thank you, my Master…”, she whimpered.

            WHP-WHPP!

            “OHH!”

            WHP-WHPP!

            “UHHH!”

At the twentieth stroke, two loud little sounds escaped from behind the Anal Trainer.  The naked sweating girl blushed fiercely—she couldn’t help it!

            Lord Ahmed laughed.  “Good!”, he said—and struck again.

            WHP-WHPP!

The Sultan punished nude Ameera for another five minutes.  Her cries grew wilder and wilder;  she was thrusting her hips back and forth between the Pillars, back and forth—as much as she could.  Her bare feet jerked rhythmically on the golden ankle-cuffs that kept her spread so wide.

            WHP-WHPP!

            “UHHH!”, shouted Ameera.

           Always a double stroke.  Sometimes followed by a stern shove of the huge leather-covered shaft deeper up into the girl’s littlest hole.  Ameera’s cries were now almost continuous.  A terrifying network of 30 pink and red welts had blossomed on her sweet bare bottom.

             From far away within the harem, Ameera’s cries were now being answered by a new song, a loud wailing song of pain and pleasure.  And a new singer:  Ahmed smiled when he recognized the voice of Yasmeen, his  captured blonde British slavegirl. 

Yes--Lady Alexandra Carmichael-Jones, of Mayfair, London.  Once so aristocratic.  And now so completely degraded:  a naked unbathed slave-girl of the Sultan of al-Dakar, the slavegirl called Yasmeen.   She knew the song of the whip…He had trained her well. 

Of all the naked girls in the harem, the blonde British girl was the one who most enjoyed being whipped.

            WHP-WHPP!

            “OHHHH!!”

            At last Sultan Ahmed was done.  He wiped his brow.

            “Well, Ameera—have you learned your lesson?”, he demanded.

            Ameera, her beautiful nude body soaked with sweat in the bright moonlight, her young flesh covered with punishment-marks, nodded.

            “Th..Thank you, my Master,” she whimpered—“Th..Thank you for my lesson…”

            “Good.” 

The Sultan unstrapped Ameera from the Pillars:  he uncinched the leather strap that held her steady at her waist;  he unlocked her sweet bare feet from the golden ankle-cuffs:  CLICK-CLICK!  Then he reached up and unlocked her clenched hands from the high wrist-cuffs of gold.  

            Ameera collapsed into a lovely heap at the base of the Pillars.

            Swinging his riding crop casually, Ahmed returned across the marble balcony to his red-lacquered couch.  He sat down among the cushions.  He considered  this beautiful—this dangerous—naked slavegirl.  And now—for the first time—he opened wide his white robes.

            “Come here!”, he commanded.  He pointed to his gigantic erection.

Nude Ameera, slumped at the base of the Punishment Pillar, stared at the giant steel-hard cock of her Master;  her dark eyes were wide.

            “”Come here--pleasure me with the toes, and then the tongue!”, Lord Ahmed commanded.

            “Y..Yes, my Master.  Toes…and then tongue,” Ameera whispered.

            She shoved herself up again onto her hands and knees.  Oh, her bottom hurt so much!  Master had been so cruel tonight, struck so hard! And her bottom hurt too from the giant leather shaft so deep inside…

But the beautiful nude girl scrambled obediently across the balcony’s marble floor on all fours, her nose-chains glittering in the milk-white moonlight.

Ameera reached seated Sultan Ahmed.  She lifted up her lovely dark-haired head and kissed the enormous circumcised tip of his cock.  The Sultan smiled.  Then Ameera arranged herself on her back for him, on the huge cushion in front of the couch.  Her beautiful naked legs lifted into the air;  her dainty bare toes, with their ruby rings, gently gripped his massively-engorged member.  They wrapped themselves around it.

“Begin!”, the big handsome man in white robes commanded:  “Pleasure me with the toes!”

Ameera, on her back, let out a little whimper.

At first she’d been so reluctant to give her Master pleasure in this way!  It was just so embarrassing—so demeaning! But He’d said to her, “A harem-girl must learn to pleasure her Master with EVERY part of her naked body!”—and then He’d given Ameera her first  long session at the Punishment Pillars.  Whp-WHP-WHP!  Now she accepted giving Him pleasure this way.  Now she’d become expert:  it was why she slipped the ruby rings onto her bare feet whenever the Master called her to him.

Ameera’s naked toes began to massage the Sultan’s cock.  Oh, it was so immense, so powerful!  Overwhelming!

The toes played up and down the massive shaft;  they tickled its huge circumcised cock-head, then worked their way down to his enormous balls, lifting them up and down.  Then they worked their way back up the shaft again.  Up-and-back, up-and-back.

After a while, the big vigorous man towering above her gave a moan:  Ameera’s toes could feel the pre-seminal fluid on his cock-tip.  Her toes spread the thick fluid along the shaft.  Then she gripped Master with her feet, and began to rhythmically jerk and pull him.  Gently—alternating with little massages from the toes—then firmly.  Then fiercely—over and over.

The naked girl whimpered with effort—and embarrassment.

Sultan Ahmed looked down at her, so hard at work.

“Excellent”, he commented—“Now the tongue!”  He snapped his fingers.  He lay down on the cushioned lacquered couch. His cock was standing straight up.

  “Yes, my Master…”, whispered nude Ameera. She brought her jeweled toes down from Master’s swollen cock, and came around to her knees over to the couch.  Her delicate hands reached out to take him, and she bent her face obediently toward the huge mushroom-shaped cock-head.  She licked her lips.

“Not yet,” commanded the big man who ruled her life.  “First display—the tongue!”

“Yes, my Master…”  Nude and sweaty,  Ameera opened her mouth and pushed her tongue out as far as she could, displayed her tongue for Master.  A large stud made of gold completely pierced its pink center.

  The large golden stud had been inserted there by order of the Sultan—to give him additional pleasure from her mouth.  And as an additional sign of young Ameera’s total submission to him. 

How the insertion had hurt!  Ahmed had stood there and watched as Gabilah, the big black Harem Mistress, did the work.  He’s stood there and watched as she stared up at him, he’d nodded and smiled at Ameera’s screams. 

Ahmed made lovely nude Ameera now display her tongue for him for a full two minutes.

“Do you like feeling a big pleasure-stud inserted in your tongue, Ameera?”

The girl looked at him: her dark soulful eyes were wide and a little tearful.  Then she slowly nodded her beautiful head.

“And do you like knowing that your tongue has been pierced to give me pleasure?”

“Yess…”, Ameera whispered.  She blushed red again.  “Yes, Master…”

And it was true.  She secretly loved it.  Just as she secretly loved having Master’s enormous leather-covered shaft so deep up her anus…

Ameera’s shaved-bare pussy lips were wet again.

“Good,” said handsome Ahmed.  Recumbent on the couch, he pointed to his gigantic rampant cock.  “Now, Ameera—SUCK!”

The naked young girl bent quickly to her task.  She caressed the Master with her mouth, slurping loudly, running her gold-studded tongue around and around his massive rod.  Her slender hands were delicately pumping him while her tongue bathed and sucked him.  At the outer end of each of her mouth-strokes, Ameera was smacking her lips loudly and wetly on his tip.  It was what she’d been taught to do.

“Hands over head!”  The Sultan, reclining on the couch, wanted to make this more difficult for her.

Ameera whimpered, and raised her slender bare arms up, clasping her hands together at the top of her lovely dark hair.  She continued sucking and slurping, sucking and slurping, her head moving up and down, up-and-down, her nose-chains jingling.

And in the stifling desert heat her body was now glistening with sweat again as she worked so hard, her beautiful big breasts swinging and shiny.

With her bare arms clasped together on top of her head, the area around the Master’s couch soon filled with Ameera’s sultry, musky smell.  She was always forbidden to bathe on the days when the Sultan wished to use her—even though it was so very hot now.  And the Master had used her long and violently, every day for the past four days now!  Why--she was beginning to smell like that naked blonde slave-girl Yasmeen always did!

The handsome man reclining on the red-lacquered couch breathed in Ameera’s heavy oniony odor, breathed it in with pleasure.  He made a comment about it, and laughed. 

Ameera blushed once more—and redoubled the pace of her sucking.  Slurp-slurp-slurp!  Then, up to the massive tip and POP!  Slurp-slurp-slurp-POP!

“Goood…”, murmured the Sultan.

He sat up now, and took hold of kneeling Ameera’s long and tangled dark hair, and his powerful hands gripped her, and he began to push her head faster and faster back and forth along his shaft.  The naked girl was whimpering now.  Her lovely head moved faster and faster, helpless in his hands;  her studded tongue ran circles on his rod.  Suddenly Sultan Ahmed began to pump, pump, pump into her mouth—and then he was spurting and spraying like a noisy explosion.

            SPURRT-SPURRT-SPURRTT-SPURRT!  SPURRT-SPURRT-SPURRTT-SPURRTT!!

            “MMMPH!”, cried Ameera as Ahmed exploded in her mouth—“Mmmph-Mmmph-Mmmph-MMMPH!”.

 Oh, there was so much of him—there always was!  And with her head held sternly by the Master, she couldn’t get away from it!  His blazing-hot cum filled her mouth, filled it and filled it!

And she couldn’t even swallow it—because she needed Master’s permission to do that!

So she held the heavy white-hot cream where Master pumped it, her cheeks puffing out with it, more and more…until he was finally finished.

The lovely naked pleasure-girl on her knees was snorting through her jeweled nose now, and hands were still clasped tight on top of her head—but her tongue gently licked the tip of his cock-head, still worked to get the last few drops.

As she’d been trained to do.

“Excellent, Ameera,” the Sultan murmured.  “Yes—excellent.  You have learned well.”

He finally withdrew himself, and closed his robes of white cotton.  He looked down at her for a moment, frowning, as she knelt submissively at his feet.  It was too bad this girl had gotten involved in politics…

“Lick your lips!’, Ahmed commanded.

Ameera stared up at him with her dark poetic eyes.  And then her cum-soaked tongue obeyed, sweeping slowly around and around her lips, leaving her sensuous lips layered with Sultan Ahmed’s heavy cream.

The Sultan now snapped his fingers again and held out his big right hand, palm up. 

And Ameera bent her head and spilled a little of the white contents that filled her mouth into Ahmed’s waiting hand.  Then he pressed his palm against her little triangular chin, pressing it and wiping it with cum, until his semen was smeared all over her lower face.

Ameera knew that the Master’s thick white cream would be left on her lips and face to dry. Every naked girl in the harem would see it.  It was another sign of his Power, of his dominance over her…just like the Anal Trainer.

“All right—you may swallow now.”

Obediently, nude Ameera finally let Master flow down her throat, swallowing it and swallowing it.  She choked and coughed, and coughed again--there was so much!  Tears filled her eyes.  But she swallowed it all, naked and smelly on her knees before the handsome man in his white robes.

There was a moment of silence.

And then the naked young girl, silvery-white in the desert moonlight, lifted her semen-smeared face and looked up at Sultan Ahmed.

“Master, I..I have a secret to tell you,” she said in a tiny voice.

“And what is that?—That you had a cum while I was whipping you?”

“No…I mean, yes!  I mean…”  The girl shook her long dark-brown hair.  “Oh, I did have a cum when I was bound to the Punishment Pillars—a big one!  I always do.  You know I did, Master!  But that’s not the secret…”

“Well, what is it?”

“Master, I..I am not what I seem.”  The naked girl lowered her forehead until it was down on the white marble floor.  “I am…I was…an agent of your political enemies.  An agent of your younger brother Marzouk.  Some people do not want you to be Sultan… They say you are not a pure Arab.  Your mother, after all…”

“Is that so?”, growled Ahmed.  His European-blue eyes flashed.  Ahmed’s mother had been the favorite of his father Farid—and, like Ahmed’s blonde slavegirl Yasmeen, an aristocratic British girl kidnapped into the harem and trained to give pleasure.

“Yes!  Everyone knows this!  And my family is very close to Marzouk.  So they…gave me to you as a gift.  Sent me into the pleasure-harem to be your naked plaything.  To be trained for your pleasure…I was sent as a spy, Master.  They want to assassinate you!  I think they want me to do it!”

The Sultan contemplated in silence the beautiful nude young girl who sprawled herself in front of him.

Then Ameera lifted her lovely head:  “But I won’t do it!  And I won’t let them do it!”, she cried.  “No, I won’t!”  She laid her soft cum-smeared cheek against Ahmed’s sandaled feet, and gently kissed his toes.  “I love you, Master,” she sighed.  “You are my MASTER…”

The big vigorous man finally smiled.

“Ameera,” he said, “I know all about this.  I have known from the beginning—from the first day you were brought into the harem.”

Nude Ameera sat back on her knees, her dark eyes wide.  She stared up at the Sultan.—“You KNEW?”

“I am not the Ruler of this country for nothing, girl!”, said the handsome man in white robes.  “I know everything that happens here.  Everything.  My enemies have been taken care of—don’t worry!  The coup was foiled three days ago. Many plotters are dead.  Marzouk is in prison as we speak.  He was given a choice—losing his head or losing his cock.  Either way he will be nothing!  I know my cowardly brother—which thing he will choose!  So, I will cut off his cock personally, before the entire Court;  and then he will be sent to serve as a eunuch-guard here for my harem!  Can you imagine? In the harem but without a cock!  And Marzouk will be always be under the orders of my friend the eunuch Kazim—and Kazim can be very cruel...”

Ameera’s delicate hand was to her mouth as she listened.

“As for your family, especially your father, who sent you to me like a viper to be placed beside my chest…”

“Oh, spare them, Master—please!”  There were new tears in Ameera’s eyes—“Please!  Marzouk made such threats!”

“I’ll think about it…”   Then he smiled a secret smile down at his naked young pleasure-girl.  “But Ameera, I also knew from the beginning that my training methods would win you over to me…eventually.  No girl can resist them.  Not even that blonde British captive we call Yasmeen.  Look what she’s  become…”

Ameera shuddered, thinking of Yasmeen—naked, degraded, and now hugely and helplessly pregnant.

“Your methods, your training…They did win me over, Master,” said Ameera--  “YOU, Master, you won me over.  Your…cock did.  I love your cock!”

She lowered her forehead down to the floor again;  her nose chains and the tight golden collar around her nick gleamed in the white moonlight.  A tiny sound escaped her bottom again…

“Master, I love You,” she declared—“And…now I want you to punish me, Master, punish me for ever wanting to betray you!”

Ameera’s voice turned fierce:  “M..Mark my buttocks, Master, with your whip!  Mark them all over!  Give me scars that will never go away!  And m..mark by breasts too—make my tits hurt and hurt!  And my p..pussy-lips! And…force open my anus, force it wide.  ”

The beautiful nude girl looked up at him once more:  “Yes, yes!  Keep me nude, Master—with a big Anal Trainer always deep inside of me!  A..And make me a slave to the other harem-girls, like Yasmeen is!  I want to be the lowest of the low!  Make me c..clean the harem toilet on my knees, chained and naked, like Yasmeen has to do!  And don’t allow me to bathe,” she whispered, kissing the Sultan’s feet.  “No—not ever!”

She was sobbing now: “Punish me!  PUNISH me!”

Lord Ahmed looked down at Ameera;   she was beautiful, truly.  And now so desperate to be obedient… It was a pleasure to own this girl!  After a moment, he patted her head.

“Yes—all this will happen to you, Ameera.  All this—and much more!  I will arrange it.  And after a while…then—perhaps—I will forgive you.”

The big man in white robes now reached again for his large riding-crop of red leather;  he flexed it in his powerful hands.  “Yes—after a while perhaps I will forgive you,” he said.  He smiled—“But not yet!”

Whp-WHP!  The crop snapped down right on Ameera’s beautiful ripe breasts.

“OHH!...”  The naked girl cried out with joy;  her slender hands lifted her breasts up and forward for more of the whip.

WHP-WHPP!

“OWW!”

WHPP-WHPP!

           “OHHH—THANK you, Master!”

Ameera knew her punishment would last a long time.

 

                                                                                                --AE