Chapter 2: Two-The first time

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Adult Romance  |  House: Booksiesilk Classic Group

Reads: 51

Jordan, Eight years earlier

 

Like most of the girls on board the plane I cried for most of the final stretch of our journey. An hour and a half after Rick left me, we landed for a second time, somewhere in Jordan. We were ushered off the plane by armed men then taken away in separate vehicles. I was sat in the rear of a large saloon car, very expensive, and next to another blonde woman of similar age to myself. The rear of what was in fact a limousine was big enough to house at least six, maybe seven people. But there were only four of us. Two armed men wearing full Arab costume plus us two women. The woman next to me took hold of my hand as we set off. I could feel her shaking. She looked at me, her eyes wide, questioning, then our first lesson arrived. It was a hard one for us both, her more than me.

‘I’m Phoebe’, was all she said, eyes full of tears, but that was enough.

The man sat next to me gripped my arm and spoke.

‘Do not speak’. His English was good. I could tell just from the three words. His colleague not so.

‘Not you talk’, was his response to Phoebe followed by a swipe of the back of his hand. This caught Phoebe by surprise, the blow short by powerful. Her lip bled and she screamed out loud. This caused a further response, the armed Arab now gripping her throat.

‘Not talk. Not, not talk’.

She still had hold of my own hand and I gave it two gentle squeezes indicating she should listen to the instructions. At least for now.

Phoebe nodded and the man released his grip. The man next to me, the one with the better English reached over and gave her a tissue. Phoebe took it and wiped the blood away.

Later that night, Phoebe and I along with four other women gathered together in a luxurious coastal property. We were taken by other women, instructed to bathe, given silk underwear to put on, and silk gowns to cover up. We were given a little food and drink then, as the sun went down, we were paraded outside, in front of the large pool where around twenty men had gathered, some standing, a few sitting, and we were sold to the highest bidder. It was surreal. 

I was third in line and had a small placard placed in front of me that read United States and number 3 printed on it. Phoebe was number two. Number one, a brunette, very young, sold for 700,000 dollars. Phoebe went for 900,000 dollars and as someone using a microphone called NUMBER THREE, I was gently pushed forward.

Ten minutes later I was sold for 1.5 million dollars to Sheikh Mohammed.

The luxury villa was owned by a third party who apparently rented it out for extortionate amounts once or twice a year for such events, which lasted for up to a week as daily sales continued as other girls arrived. My stay on this first occasion was for three days. It would not be my last visit.

I was led to a room at the rear of the villa on the second floor. It was one of the most luxurious bedrooms I had ever seen. I was told to make myself comfortable and wait. I only waited for a short while. The man who had purchased me walked in less than two minutes after I had been left.

Standing as he walked in, he responded to my action by saying, ‘Good’.

I said nothing. The Sheikh was not wearing traditional Arab dress, but his polo shirt, shorts, and sneakers were clearly the most expensive money could buy. Aged somewhere in his forties I guessed he had a reasonable physique, wore a thick gold chain around his wrist and neck, and from what I could see, was olive skinned which was darkened bu excessive body hair.

‘Remove the robe’.

I stood, pausing momentarily but decided I should do as I was told.

He stood for a while, looking at me.

‘You are a good looking woman. I will call you Cleo, after the great Cleopatra’.

He was now stood inches from my face. I could smell him. It was not an unpleasant smell but not one that I would have chosen.

‘You will get used to me Cleo. The first time is the worst time for my concubines. Remember this. Please me and you will receive your just rewards. Displease me, and you will not’.

These last words said it all. I was dispensable. I simply nodded.  

His hands found my breasts, my buttocks, his grip firm but not brutish. Then I was spun around and pushed towards the bed. It was clear what he wanted. I felt a tug on my panties, and they were around my ankles. I stepped out of them and leaned on the bed.

I felt his hardness against me, his hands on my breasts, then he pushed inside me. I gasped out loud, more for his benefit than my own. I wanted to cut his throat with a blunt knife. As he pounded into me, I groaned with each thrust, my breathing louder with each push. As I sensed he was nearing climax I screamed out to meet his own gasps and he was done. He had come inside me for the first time, but not the last.


Submitted: May 06, 2022

© Copyright 2022 francine mayes. All rights reserved.

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