Message-ID: <12404eli$9806212358@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: <URL:http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/Year98/12404.txt> From: Past His Prime <phprime@yahoo.com> Subject: Trained for love (No explicit sex) Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d MIME-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: text/plain; charset=us-ascii Path: qz!not-for-mail Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam Approved: <usenet-approval@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded <story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Story-Submission: <story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Original-Message-ID: <19980621225624.698.rocketmail@send1e.yahoomail.com> 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. _________________________________________________________ DO YOU YAHOO!? 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