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From: Past His Prime <phprime@yahoo.com>
Subject: Trained for love (No explicit sex)
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TRAINED FOR LOVE 
By PH Prime
Beads of sweat stood out on Thompson's forehead. His shirt lay limp
and wet on his back. His breath came in short, difficult gasps yet his
eyes remained glued on the girl.
She was dancing slowly, enticingly, weaving her hips provocativey at
the man. Thompson licked his lips. He was watching Fatimal, trained
from birth to be some man's love slave. And she was his.
Anxiously, his eyes followed her inviting hips, her deep-thrusted
breasts straining at the material, seeming to be reaching for him,
calling to him. He lusted for the feel of her in his arms. 
Each erotic move sent a fresh wave of desire surging through his body
as she swayed before him and then she began disrobing. 
Thompson felt hot. His face flamed with desire; it raced from his
loins encompassing his whole body. 
Eagerly, he reached out for her but she moved away, dropping the thin
veil from her shoulder. Only a skimpy black brassiere and a wisp of
panties remained. The rest of her luscious body, a creamy-white
expanse of womanhood, was bare and enticing, like a ripe fruit on a
tree waiting to be picked.
A low moan escaped his lips as she thrust her breasts towards him,
slipping off the brief cloth that covered them, so that the
coral-tipped beauty of them leapt and swayed invitingly before his
eyes. The perfection of her body only heightened his desire for her.
Only one bit of cloth remained and she began to remove it from her
hips slowly and smoothly. He could wait no longer. He had to have her.
He reached out and took her in his arms. Her lips met his and they
melted together, as their entwined bodies sank to the floor. They made
passionate love. 
Their lips eagerly sought each other, their bodies strained to a
rhythmic beat which rose from their loins as their desire peaked in a
flood of emotion that spent the passion in both of them.
Afterwards, he reflected how lucky he was to have this desirable
woman. She was completely devoted to him, and strove only to please him.
Often she did her dance for him — the dance of love taught young girls
destined for the harems 
of the Middle East. But no matter how many times Thompson saw her
dance, it never failed to raise his passions to their fullest flavor
and he never lost the desire or the excitement the dance caused him.
And in her lovemaking, she was even more superb.  Thompson had never
known such bliss in any other arms. No other woman interested him
since he had  met his Fatima. And he thanked God — Allah — for
bringing her his way.
He bad been serving a tour of duty as a member of the Canadian UN
peace-keeping force in the Middle East.
He had some time off and was travelling a lonely desert road when he
spotted her. She was a frightened creature, running for her life but
uncertain where to go. 
He had stopped her, He could tell she was scared and he wondered from
what. It was after 
he had caught up with her that he had determined it was a woman in the
shapeless robing she wore. Her limbs were shaking and tears streamed
down her cheeks. 
He remembered thinking at that point how beautiful she was. Her eyes
were large, black unfathomed pools which drank in his presence. They
were encased in a milk-white forehead, set off by dark, bushy eyebrows
and a straight,thin nose. Her lips were full and even in their
trembling, sensuous. Singly, each feature — with the exception of her
magnificent eyes — was not outstanding but they combined into a
beautiful face, framed by long-black hair. She was one of the most
beautiful women Thompson had ever met.
Even then, he had to fight an impulse to Iean over and kiss the
lucious lips, trembling invitingly before him. He couldn't determine
what her body was like, since it was encased in the dirty robes but
her face was enough to arouse sympathy in her cause from him. He knew
he wanted her and would help her.
But he had difficulty that day finding out who she was, and why she
was frightened. She obviously was running from someone, since she kept
looking back over her shoulder. 
She was probably a thief, who had nearly been caught and was running
from the law, he decided. Whatever the case, he was going to help her.
But never at that time did he think she was a slave girl, running from
the harem of a powerful emir. He would find that out later.         
He wondered what he was going to do. He decided his best bet was to
take her with him to 
his quarters and there, perhaps, he could pry her story from her. He
was frankly interested 
now. 
It had been just an impulse but now he was thankful that he took her
with him as he looked back over the events.
He asked her if she would come with him. He tried English and several
Arabic dialects as well as several Africa Semetic languages. Suddenly,
her saw the light of comprehension in her eyes.
For the first time she spoke. But she said only that they were after
her. She would not say who they were. He told her not be be afraid;
that she could come with him and he would look after her.
But she made no motion to follow. He reached out and took her arm and
she came willingly, dropping her head forward in passiva submission.
She walked quietly behind him. Her frightened eyes making desultory
glances over her shoulder.   But no one was behind them.
They reached his quarters and he took her inside. He prepared food for
her and motioned for her to eat. She did so, but hesitatingly, her
frightened eyes searching the room for the hidden   enemy.
"Don't be afraid," Thompson said. "They cannot get you here. I will
defend you."
Suddenly, there was a harsh rapping on the door.
"Open up in the name of the government," the voice was heavy and
sinister.
The girl's face blanched under a blanket af fear.
"It's them," she said. "Don't let me be taken. I will serve you.
Faithfully. I am good, you'll see."
She had moved up close to him and was pressing her soft body against
him.
"You've nothing to fear," he told her, as desire began rising in him.
He pushed her into his bedroom and shut the door. Then he went to the
front of his quarters, where his visitor was impatiently pounding on
the door.
"Hold on. Hold on," he shouted through the door. As he opened it, he
saw the military uniform. 
"What's the meaning of this? As an official guest of your government,
I must protest this unwarranted intrusion into my affairs. Why are you
pounding on my door? Who are you and what do you want? Speak civilly.
I warn you. Your superiors will hear of this behavior."
The manner of the military man changed immediately. He was at once a
snivelling servant again, wishing only to be of assistance.
"I'm so sorry, your excellency. I didn't know it was you. I humbly
apologize. But you see, a favored slave of the emir has escaped, and
you were seen with a woman," the man kept his eyes on the floor and
shuffled his feet in his nervousness.
"I was just doing my duty."
"Is it your duty to spy on me?" Thompson asked. His mind had begun
racing at the news. He could be in real trouble now. She was a slave
of the emir and he was all-powerful in these parts. He would have to
bluff his way out.
"We are sorry sire. We are looking for the girl and thought perhaps
the woman with you . . ." the officer let his voice trail off. When
Thompson didn't answer, he added: "She escaped. Alas for us! For if we
do not find her, our lives are forfeit. You see, sire. That is why I
asked."          "I can't blame you for being careful, my man. I'll
forgive your intrusion. But I need a favor. You did indeed see me come
in with a woman. But this should never get back to the embassy, or I
will be in trouble. Women are off-limits. You know how it is." He
winked at the official. 
The man gave a knowing nod in return. He, himself, had been in similar
situations. His excellency could depend on his discretion.
"Your excellency, I am sorry we had to bother you. Please forgive us
for our intrusion." The man turned and left.
Thompson shut the door and let out a sigh of relief. Now he knew why
the girl had been so afraid. She was a chattel of the emir. He had
heard stories about the man. How he was sadistic, hiding behind his
wealth. He was suspected of bring one of the incitors of the Arab
guerillas, playing them off against the israelis for illegal profits.
But it could never be proven.
Ha knew now the girl could never go back. He would have to find a
place for her, before he left. In the meantime, he would hide her in
his quarters.
He went back into the bedroom. The girl had heard his explanation to
the official and she had believed that was the purpose he had brought
her to his room.
She was standing in the middle of the floor. Naked. For the first
time, Thompson was able to appreciate fully the beauty of her body. It
took his breath away. She had full breasts with dark coral tips, a
slender, smoothly muscled belly which merged into full, enticing hips.
The dark shadow of her pubic hair was the only contrast to her
milk-white body.
He mentally credited the emir for having good taste. She was a
beautiful woman.
"You want me to love you now, master?" the girl asked, looking at him.
"I belong now to you. You saved me from them."
Her eyes were downcast as a measure of respect. Thompson felt the lust
rising in him.          "There's no need for you to offer yourself to 
me. You are free now. You understand? You  can go when you want."
She didn't understand. No other master had  treated her like this.
"Master no like Fatima?''          "Oh, God, yes," he thought to
himself. But it's not fair to take her. Even if she is a slave and 
expects it.
He wondered how he was going to explain it to her. 
He didn't get a chance. She flung herself at him. "I want to be with
you master." Her soft body pressed against him and he was unable to
control his natural urges. He took her. Her soft, pliable body fitted
to him and he experienced the first of several unions which would
bring him total bliss. 
She had been a virgin but she was well-versed in the ways of love.
Thompson was curious     and he got her to tell him the story. He
found out that part of the reason for the passionate love she had
literally hurled at him was her fear that he would abandon her to the
auction block. She didn't want that to happen.
He assured her that he would never let her go. He began quizzing her
on her past and he found she had no concept of freedom.
He kept her with him during his travels and grew so attached to her
and so addicted to her love-making that he took her to his
headquarters when he returned to duty. It was there that he began
questioning her about her past.
As she began to trust him, she gradually began to tell her life story
— a story touching on the   severest of human miseries, that of human
bondgge, where life was considered a cheap, expendible product.
Her life began in a brothel where she was born, a child of a
prostitute. Her mother had no   need for her and sold her to a buyer.
He made his profit by purchasing the unwanted children and selling
them to a slave dealer  or brothel operator. 
He paid little for the child, for infants were worth little on the
open market, and he gave the mother an additional sum to raise the
child, until she was old enough to make a profitable piece of
merchandise. The girl would be about six years old.
It was at this point in their lives that their future was decided.
When Fatima was six, she recalled how her mother, who had shown little
love or care for the child, prepared her for the sale.
She was a beautiful child and the buyer could see possibilities of
selling her to one of the love schools in the Middle East. These were
infamous buildings in which girls and boys were trained for sale to
the harems of rich sheiks. 
Fatima remembers how excited they were as they prepared her for the
highly exalted operator of the school was making selections himself.
He was looking for prime flesh. 
Her mother worked and perfumed her and then she was taken by a man she
had never seen before. He led her to a strange building and, once
inside, she found it filled with boys and girls her own age.
They were all dressed like her — a short shift-like garment was worn,
leaving the lower portion of her body exposed.
Along one side of the room was a long, bench-like stand covered with
cushions. After a few moments, the man in charge had all the children
line up along tha bench. They then were told to kneel, so that their
hips and thighs extended. 
Their garments were taken and thrown over their heads so that they
were naked and exposed to the eye of the purchaser.
He was a fat, little man with a coarse beard and foul-smelling breath.
His teeth were blackened and he had a rather disturbing habit of
sticking his face close to his victim's so that they got the full
effect of his breath.
He slowly walked along the line, occassionally nodding, prodding,
looking for the best merchandise to purchase.
When he got to Fatima he stopped. He found her beautiful formed and he
asked that he be allowed to inspect her body more closely.
Fatima shuttered, as she recalled how his hot, black eyes roamed over
her unprotected body, then he began to let his hands roam over her
flesh. His fingers pried into her mouth and almost made har gag. He
played with her underdeveloped breasts until they hurt. Then his hands
extended down to her stomach and felt the flat, smooth-muscled body.
His hands slipped to her hips and forced her thighs apart. His hands
began probing her private parts. A tear trickled in the girl's eyes.
Not because she was embarrassed by his intensive search but because
his hands were so rough.
He stood back and looked at her. He made her run and kneel then he
motioned her over to a small group at one side. She was one of the
slaves he was purchasing for the school.
Fatima recalled that 15 or 20 were chosen about half of them boys
since they brought good price as love partners to the rich jaded shieks.
Fatima was never to see her mother again. Nor did she see the man who
brought her to the building. He, too, had disappeared. She was taken
with the other purchases and loaded into a 
truck, which struck out for some unknown destination.
Finally, they arrived at an old building in the market place of some
strange town. Inside, it had several rooms with beds and others with
no furniture at all, connected by hallways. It sounded to Thompson
like something similar to a private school. But where a private school
had classrooms, the building used here was just equipped with the
tools of love. Fatima was to enjoy this part of her life. She was
cared for and groomed. She was never beaten — for that would lower her
ultimate selling price.
It was, to her, a form of kindness she had  never encountered before
and, under it, she began  to bloom. The rich womanhood in her began to
come to the surface, proving the skillfulness of the buyer's eye at
selecting beauty. 
She had the body of a dancer, they decided and so she was trained in
the art. Each day, she exercised her muscles and was fed a special
diet, which made her even more voluptuous. The training of her thigh
and belly muscles would aid in her lovemaking.
She was taught the erotic zones on a man, and how to stimulate them to
their fullest degree. This part of the training was pressed on her
because she was expected to please her master physically as well as
spiritually with her dancing. Failing to do this, she would end up on
the auction block.
She was taught to fear the auction block so that she would obey her
master's every whim. 
As her training progressed, the fullness of her body reached
culmination. The operators     were pleased with this package of love.
They could see it bringing a dear price from some rich shiek. She was
so attractive that she raised the desire within them so that they had
to     fight the urge to take her. They resisted with all their
will-power, reminding themselves of the brisk bidding she would bring.
There were many others not as good which could please their surly
appetites.
Each day, on her special diet and stimulating drugs, her body seemed
to mature: the breasts were full and round, her hips wide and
inviting, while her stomach remained flat and smooth. Her limbs were
also perfectly formed. 
She was a beautiful young woman whose body and mind had been
conditioned only for love and the pleasures of man. How lucky would
one purchaser be to have her. She hadn't reached her IOth birthday
before it was time to sell her. Actually, the operators would have
liked to keep her for another two years, to fully round her training
out. But a rare opportunity presented itself to them. 
A famous emir was looking for new replacements for his harem. He had
sent his buyers to visit the school for a private showing. 
This emir was famous for paying top prices for choice merchandise and
it was known that he particularly sought young love-slaves would could
also entertain.
The operators of the school praised Allah that one so honored had
chosen their school, so they picked out the best pupils for display
and put them on a crash course preparing them for sale day. 
When the emir's buyers arrived, the school buzzed with excitement.
Each girl dressed in her finest robes. Their bodies were oiled until
they shone and rouge was paitned on their faces and breasts.
Then the chosen few were herded into the sales room, where the emir's
buyers waited. There were other slaves there. Girls who didn't appear
to be worth much an the market had been provided as objects of love
for the buyers so that they could ease their desire in the excitement
of the buying.
The headbuyer clapped his hands and the sale started. First were the
boys who would serve their new master as lovers, since the emir was
known to have an appetite for both sexes.
Young, slim and well-muscled, the young males stood before the buyers.
The purchasers ran their hands over the naked flesh, kneading and
testing, prodding the stomachs and feeling the testicles and penises.
Then the boys were made to run to show they had no hidden physical
handicaps.
The headbuyer nodded and two were singled out, They had been
purchased. The sale went on and the girl love-slaves were brought out.
Each was pretty in her own right. They were also naked and had been
trained to arch their backs during the examination so that their
breasts jutted out proudly. Their inspection was much more detailed
than the males, the buyers taking a greater interest in the
proceedings than they had with the boys.
Their fingers stroked the flesh, slowly and smoothly, so that the
girls, who had been trained to respond to such gestures, began moaning
in anticipation of love. Their bodies leaned into the fingers and
rising passion began building in the buyers until, suddenly, one
grabbed a girl provided for his pleasure and made passionate love.
Others followed as quickly they spent themselves.
This continued for some time, and they adjourned the sale for the day.
The dancers were to be examined in the morning.
The excited comments of the girls who had taken part in the sale
inspired Fatima. She knew she had to be selected. It was her only
chance at an easy life.
She vowed she would be the best of the dancers in the morning and she
would join the emir's   coffle. Such a life would be nothing but
Iuxury and much easier than if she was sold to a common shiek and
forced to dance every night for his pleasure. 
When the dawn rolled around and the sale began the next morning,
Fatima joined the dancing girls.
One by one, they performed but none caught the eyes of the buyers, who
were content to play with the girls provided for them.
Then came the negress. She was older than Fatima and just as sure that
she would be the 
dancer chosen.
She was as black as night and her supple body gleamed. As soon as she
stepped in front of the buyers, she had their attention as she began
to dance. 
She had a typical sense of rhythm born in the African and her entire
body rippled in erotic movement, her feet never seemed to leave the
floor, yet she was moving, her torso swaying invitingly. Her breasts
were painted and enticing, her thighs smooth and supple. Her stomach
rose and fell in erotic waves. Every muscle in herbody seemed to be
moving in its own pattern.
The buyers were noticing, Their breath came in short, hard gasps. One
had reached out for the dancer. Another slave girl was shoved in his
arms. The negress had stepped up the pace of the dance. Every muscle
in her body was quivering, screaming out messages of love to the
aching loins of the buyers. Her breasts shuttered invitingly and then
it was over. 
There were only the animal grunts of the buyer who spent his desire on
the poor slave girl who had been thrust before him.
The headbuyer nodded. She was purchased. He required to look no
further. But the headmaster of the school pleaded. There was much more
merchandise. Maybe he should look further, if only for his own pleasure.
He relented. The dancers went on.
Fatima's turn came. She was determined the buyer was going to make
another purchase: her. She was going to put all the training she had
been given into this dance. She stepped on the floor, then gazed
directly into the headbuyer's eyes. She smiled sensuously, letting her
beautiful face intrigue him. She kept her body hidden by her robe and
keeping her 
eyes fixed on the buyer's, she began to dance.
Slowly, she moved about the floor with seductive glimpses of her young
limbs. Then her fingers traced a pattern of her body under the robe,
pulling the material flat and showing the inviting contours which lay
beneath it. 
The buyer was interested.
She drew the shift up, so that her legs were showing. Each one was
caressed by her hands as they moved up, letting the shift fall back
down before it reached her thighs. Then she began swaying her hips
round and round. The room had stopped talking. All male eyes were on
her now as her motion became larger, more exaggerated and her stomach
undulated under the shift. 
She dropped her eyes in a slow sensuous wink, which brought beads of
sweat upon the buyer's forehead as he leaned forward in anticipation,
his breath coming in huge gasps.
She flicked her tongue between her teeth and erotically licked her
lips, drawing them back in an alluring smile.
The man was breathing hoarsely now. Come and get me, she mouthed. I am
yours.
The headbuyer's eyes never left her but his hands reached out for the
young slave girl beside him. He grabbed her with such intensity that
she cried out in pain.
Fatima drew the shift up until it reached her hips again. The
forbidden fruit was still hidden beneath the robes. She turned,
letting the top of the shift fall from lush, white shoulders and soft,
rounded-tops of young breasts which peeked provocatively at the buyer.
She twirled some more. Her hips were swaying in savage motion, drying
the throat of every male in the room. Even the young male slaves
stood, their eyes glazed vith desire and their bodies erect with
excitement.
Suddenly she dropped the shift to her waist, her young breasts leaping
into view, the coral nipples straining forward as if they longed for
the touch of the buyer's busy hands.
He groaned in ecstacy, his hands squeezing the breasts of the young
slave girl, who continued to squeal in pain and terror. 
The entire room seemed to be an erotic torch, lit to the point of
explosion into orgy of excitement. Like a slow burning fuse, the girl
moved.
The last bit of clothing clung to her waist, hiding her treasure from
the lustful eyes in the     room. Every man wanted it, all desired it;
they could smell it, almost taste it.
And suddenly, it was there, in all its beauty. Like a bomb, the room
exploded into an orgy of love. 
"I want that girl. The emir should have her. It is an order," the
buyer had difficulty speaking,    his breath coming in short, excited
gasps.
Then he collapsed on the slave girl beside him and spent his emotions.
The next morning, the coffle was reading to leave. Fatirrra said
goodbye to her sheltered life and started out on the trail of slavery.
It was a long, dusty trip, through desert to a secret place where the
emir was waiting. It was at this place where large auction sales were
held and where the wealthy disposed of unwanted slaves. The emir,
himself, had several who no longer pleased him and who had no place in
his palace.
It was a long journey, taking several days but Fatima enjoyed it. To
her, it was a new 
adventure. She was being treated like royalty as every whim was
catered to since the headbuyer had designated her as a favorite
dancing girl of the emir. She would have power in her new Iife until,
one day, the emir would tire of her.
But that day seemed far off to Fatima who was wrapped up in the trip.
She was disappointed 
when they reached her destination. But a new curiosity filled her
mind. She wondered what the emir would be like.
The slaves were quartered. Fatima was put in a special tent by herself
with several servants to wait on her. Already she was beginning to
enjoy her new life. Her servants immediately began dressing her for
presentation to the emir.
But she was to be disappointed again. Firstly, the negress had been
chosen to dance before his royalty that night. Fatima could only watch. 
Her second disappointment came when she saw the emir. He was a short,
fat, ugly man. He reminded her of the men that used to visit her
mother and hurt her on the bed so that she would moan and cry for
hours later. Fatima began to grow apprehensive. 
The negress was brought in for the emir to see. Her body had been
oiled until it shone; a black ebony which rippled as the nervous girl
flexed her muscles. She wore no clothes. Her nipples, a light brown,
had been rouged so that they stood in stark relief to the rest of her
breasts. 
Her stomach twitched nervously but only added to the erotic effect of
the girl. Her hair had been combed long and straight, so that it hung
in black limpness, framing her face. Her nostrils flared and her eyes
shone white with fear. Her full lips trembled.
Then the emir nodded, She began to dance. As she began to move, the
nervousness seemed to leave her and her body flowed with the rhythm of
the music. Her hands raced over her naked body and her stomach and
thighs trembled in delight. The emir was interested.
The pig-like eyes were gleaming from beneath a fat forehead. Desire
glowed on his face like drops of sweat. His breathing came in hoarse,
uneven gasps and his open mouth revealed dirty, black teeth. Fatima
shuddered with repulsion, yet her mind told her that tomorrow she
would be in the place of the negress.
Suddenly, the fat man lunged forward and seized the flowing hair of
the negress.
The girl squealed from pain and terror but the emir pulled her into
his fat arms. Her body was trembling in fright. The emir swiftly threw
her body down and, in intense desire, he impaled her.
The frightened girl let out low wail of pain as her maidenhood was
taken from her. She fought the heavy body that pinned her but her
struggles only increased the desire of the emir, who was grunting in
his satisfaction.
Her eyes were white lights of terror, rolling in her dark head as she
screamed endlessly until her master struck her hard with his hand. She
Iay silently and let him use her after that.
Fatima felt sick. The emir was riding the girl ruthlessly, like a
cowpoke upon an unbroken horse breaking its spirit as he dug his spurs
into her.
The negress's eyes were wide with pain.
Fatima ran frome the palace and hid. She could never let this happen
to her. The negress had been treated like a common slave. Used like a
prostitute. She had screamed like the women had in her mother's house
when the dirty men had forced themselves upon their victims. That was
not the life for Fatima.
Presently, she recovered her senses enough to  realize she would have
to go back to her tent. On the way she passed the nepress, being
carried from her ordeal. Her thighs were covered in virgin blood from
the fearful attack and she was babbling incoherently. 
Back in her tent, Fatima paced nervously. She was unable to rest. All
she could think of was escape. 
In her mind, she continued to see the negress's eyes, helplessly
lolling as they searched for help. But there was no help for a slave
like her — "and me,' Fatima thought. "We are condemned to the will of
our master."
The night passed slowly and when a new day dawned, all the slaves were
forced out to watch the auction.
They were going to get a special treat, since  during the night, one
of the guards had visited and sampled one of the girls who was to be
sold. Her price had been ruined in the eyes of the emir and they would
be punished as a lesson to other guards and slave girls.
The man had already paid for his moment of indiscretion. His severed
head grinned down from a pole, where it had 'been placed after being
hacked from the man's body. The rest of his remains had been  ripped
into chunks and fed to the dogs. That is, all but his testicles and
penis. They had been saved and now they were going to be fed to the
slave girl, to cure her taste for love.
The emir sat on a platform and the girl was brought before him. She
could not be more than 13 or 14  years old. 
The exalted one pointed to the bits of severed flesh.
"Eat," he ordered.
The girl, her eyes welled with tears, shook her head. She couldn't.
"Eat!" The emir repeated his geature.
The girl made no motion, but stood sobbing.
"So, you won't eat. Well, my flower, we shall see how long you
continue to disobey me. Guards!"
He had the strong men lift the girl and stretch her arms over her
head, fastening them to a wall on the platform.
Then, with his sword, he sliced her clothing away, so she hung naked.
Her proud breasts stood out defiantly, but there was no rebellion in
the eyes. Her head hung down in dejected shame.
"I shall show you who is lord and who is slave. I shall be obeyed."
He took a whip and, with swift, sure strokes, cut into the girl's back.
Her sobbing turned into anguished screams for mercy but they fell on
deaf ears. Again and  again, the blows rained on her body, which
turned from soft, white, milk-like satin into ugly ribbons of red,
angry welts. Blood-flecked skin, ripped from the back, hung down. The
girl's screams reflected her agony.
When her mouth hung open, the emir motioned a guard, who stuffed the
man's organs in the gap. The girl gagged and choked but she was unable
to spit the flesh out. Suddenly she dropped her head forward,
unconscious. 
"A pity," said the emir. "I was just beginning to enjoy her spirit but
now I have no further use for her. I decree, as punishment, she be
tied on her back and raped by every man in this camp. I
have spoken." 
He clapped his hands, ending the performance.
The girl didn't live to see evening. She died in intense pain. Fatima
was sick at the thought of it. How could a man treat another human
like that? She knew it mustn't happen to her. She had to escape.
But she was given no chance during that day. Or the next. For the emir
had more in store for his new possessions. They were to witness an
auction, to put the fear in them, so that they would obey their new
master. 
They were forced onto a balcony of the lone building at the oasis and
forced to look out at the courtyard below, which was packed with the
dregs of humanity. Here were the buyers for the fleshpots of the
middle east. Brothels from which no girl ever returned. It was like a
sentence of death by slow, arduous torture, since few would live to
see their 30th birthday.
Another coffle of slaves was being auctioned off first, so that the
emir's guards relaxed and let the frightened observers look away. But
soon the time came. 
The auctioneer made a lewd comment and there was a ripple of approval
from the audience.
A favorite of the emir was to be sold with his other chattels. A girl
next to Fatima whispered that the doomed girl's only crime was to grow
old. She had reached 16 and the emir had no further use for her.
A door at the side of the courtyard opened and two men came in with a
girl between them.
She was also a negress, her hair was long and black, and hung down her
back. She had coal-black eyes, and a moon-shaped face. Her nose was
large and flat and her nostrils flared in her fright. 
She was taken to the platform and stood quietly, her head bowed.
"Now, you see it's as good as 1 promised," the auctioneer leered at
the audience. "How much am I bid for this beauty of womanhood." 
But there was no response.
"Come. Let's start the bidding," he pleaded.
"How can we bid, when we cannot see what we are buying," cried one of
the crowd. Others nodded in agreement.
"Surely we can examine it, if it is as pure as you say," another spoke
from the crowd. 
The auctioneer's greedy eyes surveyed the crowd. He could smell the
money.
"Let us have a ruling first. Only those who bid will be permitted to
examine. That, is so.'' 
There was a groan but a voice rang out and the bidding began. The
price soared upwards as the ranks of bidders quickly thinned.
"Come. You can pay much more for such a beautiful bargain. Look!" He
forced the girl's head up. "She is beautiful."
"But what of her body?" One of the bidders shouted.
The auctioneer shrugged. He ordered the girl to drop her robe. She did.
Her soft skin was like burnished gold, brightly polished and gleaming
in the hot, afternoon sun. Her breasts were perfectly formed. Her
stomach was soft and smooth and she had long, tapered legs and
perfectly formed arms.
Her nakedness spurred the bidding. Higher and higher it went, until
there were only two. 
There was a toothless old man and a young shiek. The price had passed
the reach of all others. The old man had stopped the bidding. He
demanded to inspect the girl. He toddered up to the platform,
slobbering in anticipation of the rare dessert he was going to buy.
The young shiek wasn't quite as anxious. He had come to dispose of
slaves and not to buy any. Still, the beauty of the girl had intrigued
him.
The old man began running his hands over the girl's body, forcing her
mouth open so his fingers
could explore inside. Then he ran his fingers down her cheeks, along
her neck to her shoulders. His hands came to rest on her breasts. He
squeezed each one, until the girls eyes shut with pain. Then he knelt
and forced her thighs apart.
Tears streaaDed down the girl's face as she sobbed uncontrollably.
"One hundred thousand Ryal" the toothless one called. His voice
strained of emotion.
The young shiek nodded no. He wanted to inspect the girl, but not at
this price.
The girl was sold. Anxiously, the old man pulled his prize from the
platform and back through the door, heading for a room where he could
enjoy his purchase at leisure.
Fatima didn't see much more of the auction. Although her eyes stared
down on the courtyard, her brain cancelled their message.
Instead it was working on a plan to escape. Just how puzzled her. She
had never been out in the world before. Instead livingin a sheltered
environment where someone else had made decisions for her, She could
not comprehend freedom, for all the people she had met in her short
life had been slaves and belonged to someone else. She accepted that
as a way of life.
But, somewhere, she reasoned, there had to be a better master. And she
would have to escape and find him. That was her plan. 
It was pure ruck that she did manage to escape. The emir was still
pleased with the young negress and wanted Fatima kept for when he grew
tired of his new toy. So she was kept alone in a limousine by herself
as the caravan made its way across the desert.
Fate had arranged she be alone with her driver and then it arranged
that the limousine be separated from the rest of the caravan.
The driver was worrried. If his missing car was discovered before he
caught up, it meant certain death for him, So he drove hard and fast
and recklessly. The limousine swerved to a stop in the soft sand. It
was stuck.
The man was frantic. What could he do? He got out and checked the car,
mired in the sand. He  decided to run for it. But then desire got the
best of him because he thought he could enjoy the young slave girl
before leaving. He looked at her and lust flashed in his eyes.
He called to Fatima but her woman's intuition told her what was on his
mind. Showing feminine cunning she turned her charms on him until he
came within striking distance. As he reached out for her, she hit him
with all her might. In her hands, she had his rifle, which he had
carelessly left behind when the car had becoms mired.
down he went, his mind realizing too late the danger he had walked
into. Fatima was free. Now fear gripped her. She remembered what had
happened to the slave girl who had let a guard love her. It would be
far worse for a slave who tried to escape. She had heard stories about
how they tortured such slaves. She didn't want it to happen to her.
So she ran and ran, looking back all the time for her pursuers. But
the Canadian found her first.
As Thompson heard her story, he couldn't believe it but a friend high
up in the Arabian government told him it could be. He knew of similar
cases.
As time passed, it became clear to Thonpson that he could not leave
the girl with friends in the middle east. The emir had promised death
to anyone who had helped her in her escape.
He had to take her out. Bsides, he had a selfish reason: he had never
been with such a perfect love machine before, and he was failing in
love with her.
So he plotted to get her out of the country. It took the aid of
friends in the Canadian embassy and among Arab officials, but he
managed to get her on a plane with him bound for Canada.
Her escape route or her present whereabouts cannot be revealed since
the emir's death sentence still applies to anyone who is caught aiding
her.
But it is suffice to say that Fatima lives with her husband in
Canadian where she dances the dance of love for him.




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