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The King's Temporary Slave
By obohobo
Chapter 1. The contract
I read the contract one more time before signing it. It was a very big decision for me to take and I had been warned that it wouldn't be all love and sex. There could and probably would be pain too. "I'm young and strong enough to take it and the king seems to fancy me so it shouldn't be too bad despite what Sapphire says. If I get the acknowledgement I deserve for the articles, my career could take off. Never before has the king allowed a journalist inside his palace or his harem," I argued with myself.
I Carol Waterman do hereby commit myself to become a temporary harem slave to King Joshua of Zamarabea for a period of two calendar months starting from my arrival on Zamarabean soil. I agree to be subject to the rules and disciplines of Zamarabea and those of the harem subject only to the following exceptions:
i. I shall be free for a minimum of four hours each day to study life in King Joshua's household;
ii. I will have the use of my laptop computer and digital camera to write a series of articles for HiYa magazine;
iii. I will be allowed supervised access to the Internet to contact my employer for one hour every two weeks to send an article to HiYa magazine. King Joshua or his representative will exercise his right to read the article before transmission.
Signed: Carol Waterman, Journalist HiYa Magazine
Witness: Sapphire, Personal Assistant to King Joshua.
"Thank you Carol. You are a brave girl to make such a decision just to write a few articles," Sapphire smiled at me as she spoke. "At noon tomorrow a car will pick you up and bring you here to the Zamarabean embassy. You have until then to put your affairs in order and to pack one small case no bigger than a normal carry-on bag and bring your laptop and camera. Bring only those items you deem are absolutely necessary. Do not pack any clothes including underwear. You will be supplied with slave dress on arrival in the palace."
"I don't know about being brave. I'm actually terrified but the opportunity to really get inside and find out what happens in an Arab harem is too good to miss. More so as my boss didn't believe I would be able to pull it off."
Sapphire smiled again and gave me a hug of reassurance. "I wonder if you will feel the same when you feel the cane or whip bite into your flesh as surely it will at some point during your stay. The king might seem light-hearted and amusing during his visit to London, but in his own country, he was less tolerant," she told me. I knew she had tried to warn me but the king's charm blinkered my judgement. It was too late. I'd signed the contract.
Sitting on my bed I went through the events of the previous week. It had started with a chance remark from Yvonne Dubois, HiYa's editor in chief, as she sat reading the news information filling her computer screen. "King Joshua of Zamarabea is visiting London tomorrow and dining with the Queen in the evening." Seeing me peering over her shoulder at the picture of a fine looking man in his late thirties she remarked rather cattily, "I don't suppose you even know where Zamarabea;is Carol."
"I do indeed. It's a small country or rather a kingdom on the eastern side of Arabia."
"Not actually so small. Only looks small on atlas's which show the whole of the Middle East on one page."
"It's rich in oil, has a modern form of slavery and is still feudal in its government." I went on showing off a little of the knowledge I had. "Do I get to interview him on the strength of that information?" It was really intended as a joke.
"He doesn't give interviews. I know some of the national broadsheets have tried for their supplements and Michael Parkinson failed for the BBC so a youngster like you wouldn't stand a chance." My face must have fell when she made that remark because she went on, "You can try if you like. It would be a big scoop but I understand he's very loath to talk to the press in any shape or form, even reporters with big tits." She referred to my over endowment in the boob department.
I remembered my school friend Brenda telling me a few months back that she been to Zamarabea with Bob her husband when he'd tendered for a job to install surveillance equipment in part of the palace. She went along to make sure that Bob didn't find his prick stuffing the harem girls. Instead, although she didn't actually say so, I think she found the king's prick inside her and they'd both made use of the harem facilities. From her I knew more about things inside the palace than I'd told Yvonne.
Thinking she might have information that would get me an interview, I phoned her. "You might get lucky," she answered, "Bob has to go over the details for another installation with some guy at the embassy and I'm going along to renew my acquaintance with Joshua. I'll see what I can do. You know he's used to getting his own way with women so you might have to drop your knickers for him but that never used to bother you too much! And your big tits might be a big asset." She laughed and so did I. We were friends enough for that kind of statement. In any case a fuck or two would be a small price to pay.
Two days later the office had a phone call. "It's from the Zamarabean embassy," Yvonne announced in a surprised way, "It's for you." I was trembling when I answered and felt all the eyes in the office were on me but all they heard was my yes, no, and other disjointed words.
When I put the phone down I casually told Yvonne in a voice just load enough for everyone to hear, "I'm dining with King Joshua tonight, "Can I have an allowance and some time off to get a new dress?"
"How did you manage that Carol?" Yvonne was astounded and to be truthful, so was I.
"Connections and a bit of influence," I said pompously shaking my tits so they could half guess the influence. I bought an expensive very sexy dress that revealed a goodly expanse of my breasts. Fortunately it was put on the magazine's account and not mine, so I wasn't concerned at the price. I just hoped it would get me a good story. We had a cocktail before the meal and he talked in general terms about his country, nothing that I couldn't have found out on the Internet, in fact he probably found out more about me than I did about him. Each time I tried to probe for more private details of his life he deftly side-stepped the question and quietly said that we would talk more intimately later. Perhaps HiYa wouldn't get its money's worth out of the dress after all but I could see it was having an effect on him. While we talked his eyes constantly roamed over my breasts and where the slit showed my bare thighs. I could see his dress-like embroidered robe tenting at his groin and rightly guessed I would get screwed after the meal.
About a dozen of us sat down for dinner. The king introduced me to various ministers and their wives and to Sapphire who he designated his personal assistant and who sat on the other side of the king to me. Everyone spoke excellent english but I knew that was the official language the country adopted when under British Colonial rule up to 1928. English provided a common language understood by all the various tribes that had their own dialect or completely different language.
The meal was a lengthy affair with many small courses and a wait between during which I talked and chatted with the king and Sapphire as though we were old friends. I gained a little more insight into life inside the palace but not any of the erotic details I wanted for our readership. "Sapphire bought one of your magazines," the king informed me, "I wished to see the sort of articles you wrote. It seemed you cater particularly for women from late teenage to about the thirties and while there are recipes and household items, a large proportion of the magazine is devoted to sexual matters." I agreed and said that was a very important part of women's lives, particularly in that age group. "From your dress, I guess it is important to you as well," the king commented and again I agreed.
Finally the meal was over and the others departed and the king led me to a sumptuously appointed bedroom. "I trust we can spend a little time enjoying each other's company now," the king said pulling me close to him. "May I?" His hand was on the zip at the top of my dress.
"Certainly," I replied, "I thought you'd never ask." He peeled my dress off leaving me with wearing only knickers and shoes. I couldn't wear a bra with that dress so my tits fell free. He immediately fondled them and kissed my nipples. By this time I was very horny. Taking hold of the sash to his robe I asked, "May I?"
"Certainly, I thought you'd never ask," he mimicked. His splendid gold trimmed robe with several layers of silk underneath came off in one piece. He was naked underneath. "I have these robes specially made for the staff and slaves in the palace," he told me, "Saves so much time when you have a woman waiting for what it hides."
"I've often wondered if it was true about Arabs," I giggled taking hold of his erection, "I'd heard that Arabs pricks were long and thin. Yours is pretty long and plump with it."
"And I suppose you've heard that is because we like to use the bottoms of young boys?" He laughed. "Well some do but I much prefer the bottoms of nice females but first let me look at your cunt. I'm sure it will be delightful and ready to receive me." He slid my knickers off and found his assumption was correct. I was wet and ready for a good fucking and he certainly gave me that. Obviously with a harem, he had plenty of practice.
Later when we were lying sweaty and sated from our exertions, he rang a small bell and a maid appeared. She totally ignored our nakedness and on the king's instructions left to fetch towels and champagne. They must have been ready and waiting because she reappeared very quickly with a second maid and they wiped the sweat from our bodies and the juices from between my legs. I would have preferred a shower but the towelling was very erotic too. Both maids left after pouring champagne for us.
"What would you like to know?" Joshua asked. "I'll give you half an interview now and another half when I've tried your bottom hole. Have you had it in there before?"
"Only once and that was with a small boy and I was young too." We talked and I felt that at last I was really getting some of the information I wanted about his life and the slaves and the way he treated them and the differences in life in Zamarabea to life in England.
"By your standards, the poor are very poor," he pointed out, "But they have food enough and there are hospitals and treatment is free. However, they do not have money for luxuries but their needs are simple. They work the land or the oil fields and they have houses adequate for the size of their families."
"How many women do you have in your harem?"
"About thirty women and ten men." I was surprised at this but he went on, "Some guests prefer men and we have lady visitors like your friend so I can accommodate their needs too."
"So that's why she went," I thought but I asked "Do you treat your slaves kindly?"
"I think I do but I'm sure that when one has not satisfied me and has received a whipping, they think otherwise."
"You whip your slaves?" My voice showed my horror.
"Of course. That is the traditional way of correcting mistakes. It's not usually an actual whip. For minor offences we use a strap, and for more serious demeanours the cane. The whip is reserved for the worst offences, unless of course, I'm just in a mood and want to see some flesh striped. Being in total authority, has its advantages."
By this time and with my fondling, his prick was hard again so he broke off the interview and made me kneel, doggie style. I wondered how much it would hurt but the champagne was having a relaxing effect on my brain. I shuddered when I felt cold gel being put around my hole and then a finger inserted more inside me. "Relax," he said and I tried but he had to use quite a lot of force before he could enter. Once in, it seemed to slide easily and he screwed me hard. When the initial pain disappeared I began to enjoy the experience especially as his right hand diddled my clit. It was this that brought me off twice before he shot his sperm into my rectum.
Again he summoned the maids but this time we did use the shower. I washed him and he reciprocated. At one point, I burst out laughing, and when he asked why, "I never thought I'd ever wash the prick and arse of a real live king." When we stepped out of the showered the maids dried us. "I could get used to this life," I thought.
The bed had been remade when we returned and we again lay side by side. I left the champagne alone as I wanted to keep a reasonably clear head for the second part of my interview. First I asked him more questions on the life of the slaves in his harem but we were both getting tired and I felt the interview was at an end when I asked about the feelings slaves had of their life. "I cannot answer that, I'm not a slave," he told me quite abruptly, "To find the answer to that question, you will have to come and live as a slave, you'd have to experience life the same as they do." Shortly afterwards he'd fallen asleep but I lay awake pondering his words for a while until sleep overcame me as well.
At 8:30 a maid bringing coffee and Alka-Seltzer awakened us. I needed it. We showered, again with maids to dry us and did the usual ablutions. Everything was so ornate. Gold plated taps, gold framed mirror, and even the hinges on the loo seat were gold plated.
At breakfast I felt very out of place wearing my revealing dinner dress but that is all I had. Nobody commented and they all must have guessed where I had spent the night. It was a buffet affair and while we ate I asked, "What did you mean when you said I would have to come and live as a slave to find out their feelings? Are you actually suggesting I should become one of your harem slaves?"
"That's the only way you'll find out for sure. I wouldn't mind having you in my harem."
"So you could whip me!"
"Perhaps. Why not come on temporary loan from your magazine? It'd have to be for a reasonable length of time, at least two months. I could concede some free time for you to observe life in the palace and write about it but otherwise you'd be completely a slave and have to submit yourself to me and to any others that require you. Discus it with Sapphire before you return to work. I've a meeting with the trade secretary shortly."
Sapphire was very forthcoming about how my life would be if I accepted his invitation. My body would not be mine. It would be available to the king and any staff or visitors who requested my services. I would be punished with a strap, cane or whip for any real or imagined wrong doings. There would be no appeal against any punishment. "How often is that likely to be?" I asked.
"Harem girls get caned two or three times a year on average, the strap more often. The whip is rarely used for a flogging although it is used when the girls are exercising to hurry them along or work harder. Then it is only a stroke or two now and again. Some girls get punished more frequently than others. Over here you say some people are 'accident prone', in the harem some girls are punishment prone. Personality comes into it as well. Those that fight the system get more punishment and that particularly applies to girls that come from countries like this and America where women have a more liberal lifestyle. We don't have too many of them and those have been with us a long while."
"How do you recruit them?"
"We don't as a rule. Most are born in Zamarabea and aspire to get into the harem but some are visitors that stay or get themselves into trouble and think harem life is better than prison."
"What would a typical day be like?"
"Up early and then gym for half an hour, breakfast, make up, sex training for you as a new recruit, then relaxing unless required until the evening when most nights you will be summoned to someone's room where you would have to have sex in any way required. Oral, anal or normal." Sapphire spent some time expanding on the various techniques and the spankings or punishments I might receive if I didn't perform well enough. None of this really put me off.
Sapphire and I spent the next hour drawing up the contract and I was given a couple of days to think it over and arrange it with the magazine.
Midday and I walked into the office. By then I'd been home and changed into a dress suit. "You're late today Carol," Yvonne remarked, "We start at nine."
"I've been working all night or most of it at least. I got my interview and I learned some of the more salacious goings on in the royal palace."
"I guess there were some salacious goings on in the embassy last night," Olive called out and more questions and suggestive remarks from the others followed.
In the end I said, "You'll have to wait and read my piece in the magazine. I knew some of them were accessing my computer on the Intranet while I was writing but I said nothing on how I obtained the information.