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Authors: Nicola Italia

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Horace

s
eyes feasted on Katharine

s
dress and watched as her breasts moved up and down over the neckline. He couldn

t wait to taste them.


Proper,
my dear? I am old enough to be your father. What could be improper about a
young lady addressing an older man by his Christian name?

Katharine gritted her teeth at the mention of her father.
Edward was good and kind, nothing like this man before her, she was certain.


Nevertheless,
my Lord. I will address you as befits your rank.

Horace chuckled. He would love to break the little chit

s pride. She thought too
much of herself.

As
you wish, my dear,

he replied.

Katharine watched as he stood between her and the gallery
and wondered what he wanted. He seemed intent on keeping her on the balcony.


Was
there something you wished, my Lord?

Horace watched the beauty in the dark night sky. The
diamonds at her neck flashed in the night and her eyes were luminous. By God,
he would have the little bitch on her knees before the night was done.


Yes,
my dear. You are most perceptive. Intelligence is a quality not often found in
women.

He strove to
play on her vanity even though he hated educated women.


Thank
you. My father was very indulgent with me. Had I been a man, I would have
followed my brother to Eton.

Horace almost snorted.
Never mind Eton. I have work for
that pretty little mouth that doesn

t
involve talking
, he thought and almost stroked his hard cock.


Yes.
I

m sure you would
have excelled. However, as a woman I understand that there have been offers of
marriage. One offer has been turned down, though I believe the Earl is quite
intoxicated with you.

Katharine frowned at the turn of conversation.

Yes. I have had offers,

she said.

However, my father is
indulgent. I do not need to rush into anything unwanted.


Your
father is kind, generous.


He
is,

she agreed.


I

m sure you are aware that
I am not without funds, and I am a titled baron as you already know.

Katharine nodded, though wasn

t
sure where the conversation was leading.


Yes.


I
find you quite alluring, my dear. So much so that I have been thinking about
what remedy could assuage the situation.

Katharine was at a loss for words as he came toward her.


My
lord?

she asked.


I
am unable to offer you marriage.

He was taller than she was and though older, he was compact and muscled. He was
graying at the temples, and his hooknose and fleshy lips were inches from her
face.

But I am
enchanted. You must know that, my dear.

Katharine shook her head, fighting the nausea as it rose up.


My
lord,

she began.


Yes.
Yes,

Horace said.
He touched her golden hair and then her neck. His fingers lingered on her the
diamond necklace, touching each jewel before he spoke.

I can offer you a comfortable life. I have a
townhouse prepared for you and an account at the finest dressmaker in London.

Katharine was frozen. Her icy hands were at her sides as she
tried to take in the information.


You
want me as your
mistress
?

she asked, insulted.


Yes,
yes. Tonight. Tonight,

he said. His thick hands held her arms at her sides and he was suddenly
pressing into her. She could feel his thickness through the fabric of their
clothes and his fleshy lips were on her neck.

His one hand moved to touch her neck again and then his
thick fingers were moving over the tips of her breasts. His other hand was
clawing at her skirts, trying to raise them.

Katharine was disgusted and sickened, but moved quickly to
stop the baron. She slapped him hard across the face, almost curling her hand
into a fist.

The baron looked shocked that she had dared to raise a hand
to him and moved toward her again.

She slapped his other cheek hard and she moved around him.


You
are disgusting! Do not ever come near me again!

she yelled.

Then she was gone, almost running, down the long gallery,
passing the portraits of long-dead men and women hanging in their places. She
found a looking glass before she entered the ballroom and tried to calm her
nerves. Her hands were shaking and her cheeks were flushed pink. She closed her
eyes.

Stay calm, stay calm
, she told herself.

When she rejoined the party, she asked her brother to
indulge her; though she had enjoyed the evening, she had a severe headache and
wanted to return home. He allowed her to do so. She never mentioned the
incident with the baron and chose to forget it. The baron, however, did not.

Horace visited his favorite brothel that evening. He was
particularly degrading with the woman, taking her hard on all fours and then
filling her mouth with his seed. The entire time he took her, he thought of the
haughty blonde with her ice-cold diamonds and even colder stares.

How dare that little upstart bitch attack him? He had
offered her a comfortable position serving him and doing little in return. She
had attacked him like a feral cat on the street. His cheek had been red for
hours and he even felt a loose tooth. Damn her! He felt his cock growing hard
again at the thought of having her tight cunt and mouth service him. She didn

t want him? She thought
herself too good to play mistress to a baron of the realm? The bitch would pay.

Suddenly he had a plan in mind: a delicious, evil plan.
Horace rubbed his hands together. Who knew that such a dastardly people existed
in the world? He learned of men or, more to the point, Arab pirates, who made a
living buying and selling flesh. It wasn

t
just any flesh. Their main objective was to abduct white women, who would then
be sold in the Arab world to rich men. Horace chuckled. Soon enough, the little
haughty bitch would be spreading her legs for some old, stinking Arab.

***

Sarah and Katharine each carried a small bag, while their
maid, Lucy, had a large basket hooked around one meaty arm. Together, they made
their way to Petticoat Lane Market. Though Sarah usually never went to market
and thought it servant

s
work, she was anxious to show Katharine the bustling city.

Katharine was overwhelmed at the throngs of people that
seemed to move in and about the market, and she saw the bric-a-brac was enough
to satisfy any shopper. She was separated from Sarah a few times, but usually
managed to find her quickly. Lucy moved expertly through the crowd, and her
sharp accent could be distinctly heard.

Katharine smiled at herself as she looked at the goods. Did
she truly need anything? No, she figured, but she wanted to buy something to
remember the trip.

Uthal and Sufyan watched the woman with interest. They had
kept a watchful eye on the townhouse. When she had emerged today and traveled
to the market, they knew their moment had come. The baron had paid them
handsomely to take the woman, and Uthal knew of a sheik in Arabia who would
want this one. He was renowned for his harem and would certainly want to add
this beauty to it. Uthal was already counting the money in his hands.

The lady had become separated from her small group several
times and Uthal knew all too well that she could be captured easily. It would
be easy to slip in beside her as she walked. He had tried to dress and look
more like an Englishman, though he was darker in skin. He would wait until her
companions had left her again and he would pull her into the back of a stall,
where one watching might think they were lovers in a small tryst. Once there,
he would quickly bind her hands behind her back and take her to the awaiting
coach.

He would tell her in a deadly voice, thick with heavy
accent, that her life would depend upon her silence and that she should not
make a scene. She would be too taken aback and frightened to do anything. By
the time she recovered her wits, they would be inside the coach with the men on
either side of her.

She might try to escape, in which case he would have to
smack her sharply to show the seriousness of her situation. He would arrange
passage aboard a ship and they would leave immediately.

Indeed, everything went exactly as Uthal had planned, and
Katharine was soon aboard a ship, bound to a land she had never seen, as a
slave.

Chapter
1

Sheik Mohammed Aksam Al Sabid was the eldest son of the old
great sheik Mohammed Akmon, who had the soul of a good believer, and this had
pleased Allah.

Mohammed Aksam was the eldest son at 35 years of age and
already a commanding presence. At six feet, two inches tall, he had a golden
bronzed body and brown eyes, which was common in Saudi Arabia. He always wore a
gold earring in his ear, as he had crossed the equator, and he was proud of his
seafaring abilities. His brown hair flowed just below his shoulders, and he had
a small trimmed goatee.

As the eldest son of the great sheik, he had inherited much.
He inherited vast wealth from his specially-bred Arabian horses and lands which
cultivated coffee. He also inherited the role of judge and mediator in relation
to the problems of his people, as his father was before him. He watched over
his large family, which included his aging mother, numerous brothers, and many
insignificant sisters.

He had married young at 18 and his bride had been only 14
years old, which was permitted under Islam. Yasmeen was a sultry Arabian beauty
with dark eyes, long black hair, and a lithe body. She was the color of honey
and oozed sexuality. She was the sheik

s
toy and at his very beck and call. She was eager in bed, both to please him and
to keep him. Although he slept with her often, Yasmeen had only borne him two
children, but they were worthless daughters at that.

Mohammed was a great sheik. He was revered and respected for
his wisdom and his wise counsel. But nothing impressed the Arabian men more
than the sheik

s
harem. Filled with exotic women from his part of the world, there were close to
27 women. He had numerous slim women from Arabia as well as dark, exotic
Ethiopian women with large nipples and hairy snatches. Persian, Iraqi,
Egyptian, Afghan, and a West African woman filled his harem.

Yasmeen was a jealous cat, but she knew he never slept with
his whores more than once a night and he took extensive precautions to make
certain his seed never impregnated his harem women. Yasmeen alone was the only
woman who had the pleasure of growing large with his seed. The harem was a
respected and well-known institution serving her husband, but Yasmeen treated
the women as common whores and hated them all. She knew there were several
favorites, and she went out of her way to torment them. She was also secretly
very frightened, as she had only given birth to two girls; she worried that the
time would come when her husband would take a second wife because he wanted
sons.

Islam allowed the taking of a second wife if the man was
able to physically and financially take care of both wives and wanted them
both.

Yasmeen lived with that fear every day. She prayed to Allah
each time she lay with her husband that his seed would sprout into a boy child
so that Mohammed would have no need to look elsewhere. She would often lie in
bed for hours after their union had been completed, rubbing a sticky oil
between her legs. The oil had been prepared by the local midwife and was said
to have great powers. She thought only of Mohammed, creating a son, and having
a child to parade over the whores in the harem.

***

Mohammed had long heard of the fair women who graced the
lands of Saxony and Brittany. He heard tales of their sun-kissed hair, ocean
blue eyes, and skin as cool and colored like marble. He became obsessed and had
already commissioned his mercenaries in the Arabian Sea to bring him a woman of
such surpassing beauty. There were many Arab pirates who patrolled and trolled
the waters, and he knew word would eventually come of one such woman. He would
gladly pay a king

s
ransom for her.

***

Lady Katharine Fairfax

s
ordeal had begun in London when Uthal and Sufyan had kidnapped her at the
Petticoat Lane Market. She had remembered admiring a lovely beaded bag when
suddenly she had been grabbed by the arm and pushed into the back of the stall.
A dark, swarthy man stood before her, dressed in peasant clothes but looking
out of place. His face was hard and dangerous.

He spun her around and bound her hands behind her back with
a rope. She remembered being thrust into a dark coach and, fearing rape or
death, she fought back. He slapped her and told her not to make a scene, that
her life depended upon it.

She woke up later to the gentle swaying of the waves upon a
ship. The room was dark and she was alone. She had not been molested and her
hands had been unbound. She tried the door to the room but it was locked. She
knocked loudly several times.

BOOK: The Sheik and the Slave
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