Sheikh That Thing

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It had seemed a good idea at the time. Winter had been unbearably cold and the first cheap flight that she saw had been to somewhere hot and middle eastern. Nothing should have been simpler.

The fact that the plane was so small had worried her a little bit. The crew were European though and seemed to know what they were doing. When the plane was airborne she realised that they were also all male; but that didn’t worry her. Actually, it made Juliet feel just a little bit special. She was getting all the extra attention after all. This could be just the way to start her holiday.

It did worry her a little that they didn’t speak much English. It worried her even more when half-way through the flight one of them motioned her to put her seat belt on before rapidly strapping himself into a chair.

When Juliet asked, “Why?” The only answer she got was a muttered “Emergence Landing, Emergence.”

Then the man crossed himself and hurriedly shut his eyes.

They got down all right though. It was when the plane stopped that the real trouble started.

They were not where they were supposed to be, in a western friendly middle eastern state; they were not anywhere that Juliet could recognise. All the signs were in Arabic. Or at least she thought they were in Arabic.

It was incredibly hot but luckily she had dressed for the heat and so was only wearing shorts and a T-shirt. In truth she had good legs and liked to show them off. When she descended from the plane though, absolute pandemonium broke out. Lots of Arabic men came up and shouted in her face, gesticulating at her as they spoke.

Unfortunately, Juliet did not understand a word. The aircrew tried to help but they were angrily brushed aside. Eventually she was manhandled into a room, abandoned by everyone and left to contemplate the meaning of it all behind a securely locked door.

The door did not open again for some considerable time. When it did Juliet was relieved to see what looked like a friendly face. Or, at least an English face. The man was grey haired and had kind wrinkles around the eyes. “Er.. Miss Hanway?” He said.

“Yes.” Said Juliet. “At last! Someone who speaks English! Are you from the Embassy?”

The man smiled. “Er, no, not exactly. There is no British embassy here. If you like I’m the British representative here, although that’s more unofficial than official. Actually, I’m the only British person here at the moment. Hmm. Apart from you.”

“Ermm, I’m Charles. Er Charles Lorrimer.”

Juliet did not understand and, as was her habit in moments of confusion, brushed her long hair behind her ears. “What do you mean? Where are we?”

“Well, strictly speaking we are in the desert. We are actually at a desert town which is ruled by an Arab Prince, while the country is ruled by his Father. It’s rather complicated but this place is like a country within a country. Mmm, Westerners are actively discouraged from coming here because of the Prince’s strict laws.”

Juliet interrupted. “I don’t want to be here. I just want to get to where I was going. Surely you can you arrange that? Charles?”

The Englishman seemed to have gone off into some sort of reverie, for his eyes were fixed on Juliet’s bare thighs. It was almost as if he hadn’t seen a woman in shorts before.

“Errum…, Yes.” He said. “I mean No. Well actually, er, it’s not going to be as simple as that.”

“What do you mean?” Said Juliet. Charles sat down next to her and tried to look as kindly as possible. This was not going to be easy.

“The Sheikh, or Prince, as he is sometimes known, whilst educated in England, is not a , hmmn, liberal man. Er, women hereabouts are required to wear clothing that covers their arms, legs and, on certain occasions, their faces.” He paused.

“You have, however unwittingly, broken his laws and, rather unfortunately, you have broken them in public.”

Charles checked to make sure that he had the young lady’s attention. “The good news is that he is quite happy to deport you back to England after you have made amends for your, errm, crime.” He looked at her thighs once more.

“The bad news is that in these parts the punishment for that particular crime is, hmm, flogging. A public flogging.”

Juliet’s face went quite pale. So much so that Charles had to fetch her a glass of water. When she was a little recovered he continued.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t put that very well did I?” He said. “I’m just a technical oil chappie actually. Never done any of this diplomatic stuff before.”

“I’m not sure that there is a good way to put news of that kind.” Said Juliet.

Charles was relieved to see that she had raised a half smile. “Good girl.” He said. “Stiff Upper Lip.” Before thinking to himself just how much she was going to need it.

“Is there nothing you can do?” She asked.

“Errm, I’ll try.” He said, impressed by her in spite of himself. “Ah. In the meantime, perhaps you have some more suitable clothes to change in to? I’ll arrange ataşehir escort bayan to have your luggage sent up.”

Five minutes Later Juliet had only her bags for company. After a time she began to rummage through the biggest of them. It helped to have something to do rather than sit awaiting her fate. The trouble was that in the ‘more suitable clothes’ department Juliet was not exactly well stocked.

Her holiday plans had catered for beaches, swimming pools and the occasional bar. Consequently the only item of clothing that she had which covered her arms and legs was a bright red, figure hugging, ankle length dress. To add to her woes it was made of the sort of material that only just left something to the imagination.

It was impossible to wear a bra underneath it without spoiling the line of the dress. Knickers could be worn, but only of the flimsiest, high cut variety.

Putting it on had always made her feel sexy and even now, in these circumstances she could sense the same familiar itch. Juliet knew she was attractive and was vain enough to care about how she looked in front of anyone.

So, by the time she had finished and by way of distracting herself, she had the whole kit on; black hold-up stockings, matching heeled shoes, and jewellery. She’d even had time to do her make-up. Juliet tried to make herself look more demure than normal.

Unfortunately, she had to acknowledge that the combination of the red dress and the innocent make-up made her look even sexier than she normally did. Still, pride won out. She wasn’t going to make herself look dowdy just because she had broken some stupid law. The proposed punishment had been pushed to the back of her mind. She even half convinced herself that Charles Lorrimer would manage to make the whole thing go away. Somehow.

However, by the time he poked his head around the door again she’d had quite enough time to think about it again. However you cut it a public flogging didn’t sound like much fun.

“Ah. Miss Hanway.” He said. “You’ve changed I see. Hmmn. Very pretty, if I may say so. Errm….”

“Please Charles, Mr Lorrimer. Get to the point. What is going to happen to me?” Interrupted Juliet, more abrupt than normal.

“Hmmn. Yes.” Said Charles as his eyes slid from her exquisite body to the floor. “I have had some success. There will be no public flogging….”

He could not continue because Juliet jumped up and hugged him in gratitude. He was quite distracted by her and only reluctantly able to extricate himself from her grasp and the close caress of what he believed to be unrestrained breasts.

“Er, Miss Hanway. Please. Don’t be misled. I meant only that the flogging will not be held in public.”

“What?!” Cried Juliet.

“I’m terribly sorry. I have spoken with the Sheikh and tried to persuade to modify his position because you are a foreign national. He in turn has agreed that there is no need for a public spectacle. However, he is adamant that you are punished for what his people will see as a grave crime.”

“Oh God.” Whispered Juliet.

“Please listen, Miss Hanway. Hmn. I went further in my arguments than I have ever previously done and eventually told him that there was no precedent for a flogging in our country.”

Charles paused. Juliet had gathered enough about him by now to realise that this meant that he had something difficult to say. She let her own silence force whatever it was out of him.

After a time Charles continued. “Hrrm. I’m afraid that the Sheikh quoted to me the example of corporal punishment within our own school system. I believe he even has some experience of it himself. Er, The only further concession that he would make is that you be punished in the English style. Hmm, that is, a spanking followed by what he called ‘six of the best’.

In a quiet voice Juliet said “Where?”

Charles blushed. Really! “On the backside.” He said. “The bare backside.”

Then it was Juliet’s turn to blush.” No. I meant, where will this happen?”

“Oh. Oh, I’m sorry! Er, at the Sheikh’s palace. The Sheikh himself will administer the…umm.”

“Yes.” Said Juliet. “Well, at least I’ll get to meet him.”

After that there hadn’t been a lot that either could say to the other. A short time later they were both whisked by air-conditioned limousine from the airport.

Now Juliet simply waited in a room at the Palace. On another day she might have spent more time taking in it’s fine decor and expensive furnishings but today her mind was on other, more personal, things.

Charles soon showed up. He indicated that she should follow him to the Sheikh’s quarters. She sighed. Juliet knew that she really had no choice but to obey.

Before long they entered a small ante-room which was almost bare of furniture. At one end carved screens filled the whole wall and Juliet had the feeling that someone was watching her from behind them. It was impossible to tell though without making it obvious what she escort kadıöy would have been looking for.

The other object that immediately drew Juliet’s eye was the padded stool that stood in the centre of the room. It was too high to sit on comfortably but she could tell that it was just the right height for someone to be bent over it at the waist.

She blushed as she realised that she would soon be the someone who would be perched over it’s rounded edge. She could see now that it even had straps and handles to hold. It was a custom made punishment bench, covered in black leather.

Clearly the Sheikh had more than a passing interest in corporal punishment.

Part of the carved screen slid back and an incredibly handsome olive skinned man dressed in a western suit stepped through. Following Charles’ lead Juliet curtsied as he bowed to the man who could only be the Sheikh.

“Miss Hanway.” He said, walking straight up to her as if this were a social engagement. “I am charmed to make your acquaintance. I am only sorry that it is under such difficult circumstances.”

Juliet was for the moment speechless. She was awed by the urbanity of the man but not entirely fooled. In his eyes there was a hint of something savage, something, she believed, of the desert.

He took her hand, kissed it gently, and before she knew it he was leading her to the stool. All the time his eyes were on hers, reading her, trying to guess the strength of her spirit. He smiled a white, easy smile. “You fully understand why you are here?” He asked.

“Yes.” Said Juliet, surprised to find her voice as strong as it was.

“And you fully understand what is about to happen?”

“Yes. I do.” She said. Now he had led her to the stool a sudden fear grasped at her. What had she let herself in for? She steeled herself.

This wasn’t going to be so bad. Other people had suffered this and much worse. The strength of his grip on her fingers, in another place, another time, would have thrilled her. Now she had worries about how that strength was going to be used.

“Mr Lorrimer. You may leave us now.” He said. “Wait outside. You will accompany Miss Hanway to the airport when we have finished.”

Charles bowed again and left the room. Juliet suddenly became aware of her heart beating. It was so loud in her own head that she felt sure that the Prince could hear it. He let her hand fall gently to her side. His hawkish eyes seemed to drink in the whole of her body. “A punishment is definitely an occasion. I’m glad to see that you dressed for it.” He said. “Please bend over this end of the bench.”

He made it sound as if she could refuse. She was almost tempted to try but somehow knew that that would only make it worse for her. Trying to hide her inner turmoil Juliet placed herself over the stool and was surprised by the way it’s clever shape forced her to mould her body to the leather covered bench. When she had finished she was acutely aware that her pert backside was raised into the air.

Her legs, longer than most, had some give in them but were actually most comfortable if she stretched them to their full length. The rest of her body rested on cool leather except for her breasts which were pushed quite hard into the cool surface of the bench. Her nipples had hardened on contact with it. She hoped that the Sheikh was unaware of this.

As she squirmed to make herself more comfortable they rubbed on the leather becoming even harder. This was not at all what she had expected. Part of her was enjoying the feeling of the bench against her body. ‘You’re not meant to be enjoying this’ she said to herself, but she was.

The Sheikh slowly raised the hem of her dress trailing it gently up the length of her legs like a soft caress. Juliet sighed. Even though she knew that he could see her stockings she was quietly excited by the gentle way in which he was preparing her.

This was not turning out at all as she had imagined. At last he lifted her dress up over her white buttocks and folded it neatly in the small of her back. Juliet could feel the air move on her revealed skin.

His hands were quick though to pull her lacy knickers down, leaving them at half mast stretched between her parted knees. Suddenly she was very naked and they both knew it.

He stroked her skin. It made her jump and instinctively tighten her muscles but his touch was gentle. His skin was dry. She could feel the toughness of it in comparison with her soft cheeks. It felt nice. Dammit, it felt horny!

Juliet relaxed and squirmed once more into the leather.

The first spank was such a shock that it took her breath away. As did the second.

‘God, that hurt’ she thought.

He paused and then spanked her again. The pauses came less and less and the spanks came more often. She was groaning now, feeling the pain level rise. She was hot as well. Her breath onto the leather stool was making her face hot but his hands on her backside were making the rest of her maltepe escort body hotter still.

“Oh.” She said. “Arrh.”

Each time his strong hands cracked down on to her flesh she felt the heat in her bottom increase. It hurt. Oh yes it hurt alright; but there was a secret warmth to it as well.

Something that was beginning to overtake the pain, and was fusing with it.

Carefully the Sheikh stroked her skin once more. He was always pleased at the way the paler skin of western women reacted to this treatment. The skin of his own wives changed colour certainly but not to this extent. Juliet’s bottom was now a bright scarlet. Here and there a hand print could be made out on her skin but for the most part her bottom was a uniform heated red.

The way that she thrust with her legs was also very pleasing. He could just see the lips of her sex and enjoyed observing the thickening and moistening that was taking place. Some women did not respond in this way but he was always gratified when they did. His cock began to stir in response.

He spanked her again. And again. Unconsciously she raised her buttocks up to his hand as it swept down, increasing her pleasure; increasing his.

He paused, took off his jacket. His breathing matched hers, hard and fast. She began grinding herself into the bench but he knew that she wouldn’t be able to bring herself off. It had been Carefully designed to avoid that possibility.

Gracefully he slid his leather belt from around his trousers and cracked it in the air.

Juliet groaned in fear and anticipation, knowing instinctively what was coming.

The belt whistled through the air and cracked hard onto her pulsing backside. Juliet tried to control her response by gripping the handles of the bench even harder. As her knuckles became whiter her bum became redder.

She hissed her pain through clenched teeth.

“Count.” Said the Sheikh. Juliet could only flex her legs.

The belt cracked once more. “Aaah!” She cried and forced the upper half of her body up off the bench.

“Count.” He commanded once more.

“One.” She replied, knowing there were five more to come.

With his hand he stroked her hot skin. Her whole body was rigid now. Her arms locking her upper body off the stool. Her thighs, beautifully framed by her stockings, were tight with anticipation. Still the wetness was there between them; and they both knew it.

He waited until she was soothed by his touch. Until she began to relax. Then he struck with the belt again.

“Two!” Gasped Juliet. She had never felt anything like this before. The spanking had been painful. At first. Then it had become mingled with a surprising lust. Pleasure had mingled with the pain. She knew that she had begun to enjoy it. The belt though, was different. It was a white hot, smarting pain. It raised the heat to an intense level. As he beat her again she could feel her desire rising to match it.

The sound of her voice changed as she counted. She could hear the need in it and hoped that he would know how to answer it.

Sweat beaded her upper lip and she moistened it with her tongue. Her arms squeezed her breasts together and gob-stopper nipples fronted her dress.

‘Red like my Arse’, she thought and counted again.

The last stroke of the leather took her by surprise. She had survived and yet, surely, it would not end here. “Six.” She cried, as commanded, but remained in position.

Her whole body throbbed with an intense need. “Please…” She said, but the Sheikh was silent. “Please, Sir…” She said.

Juliet was rewarded with the sound of his trouser zip descending. At least she hoped so.

The Sheikh stepped towards her, pausing for a moment as he was tempted by the puckered ring of her anus, choosing instead the hot lubrication of her pussy.

His thrust was hard, hitting her deepness in one stroke.

Juliet thrust back onto his welcome cock. She revelled in the sensation of her hot red skin against his olive coolness. His hand grasped her long hair and used it cruelly to pull himself inside her.

Then she felt his fingers raking her skin, almost gouging her breasts. It was a hot hard fuck and it was just what she needed.

“Yes.” She said, thrusting at him as hard as he thrust at her. When she felt his thumb enter her anus she felt him grow and swell inside her. It was too much, she couldn’t help herself. He had touched something at the very base of her spirit.

She gushed onto him as she came and was answered by the jets of his own sweet juices.

Moments later his voice was cool, cruel. “You should prepare yourself to return to the airport.” Then he turned and left the room.

**********************

Two months later Juliet hadn’t told anyone what had happened. She was restless though.

Something had been awakened that needed release, but here, in her homeland, she was unaware of any way of finding it. Her friends found her becoming a little distant. Any talk of her holiday was quickly discouraged.

So she didn’t tell anyone when the package arrived. It was a shame really. She would have loved to boast about her new red dress, the incredibly expensive one; but then they would have wanted to know the who and the how and the why.

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