This story is about a closet crossdresser abducted and forced to join a harem. It is explicit and contains scenes involving reluctant participation in sex acts.
Arabian Nights Pt. 01
By
Michele Nylons©
Michele felt the huge member buried in her anus begin to pulsate; hot, creamy semen flooded her back passage. She was lying face down on the huge bed; pressed down into the satin sheets and soft mattress, her own penis trapped in her satin panties was also hard and leaking pre-seminal fluid. She lay still as Ahmed, the man lying on top of her, emptied himself into her.
Ahmed preferred to fuck Michele doggy-style and finish with her prone; pushed down flat on the bed legs splayed when he climaxed; he didn't like her to push back like some of her other captors did. He just liked her to lie still while he pressed his body hard against her as he came. He didn't thrust when he came; he just let his penis throb and quiver when he ejaculated.
He grunted as he eased his cock out of Michele's anal sheath, he got up on his elbows and then on to his feet. Michele felt warm semen flow out of her sphincter and a few hot drops of Ahmed's spend dropped onto her stockings when he dismounted.
The other man in the room quickly took Ahmed's place and she felt his cock probe her sphincter insistently as he impatiently tried to enter her. She knew that Sadan liked to fuck her hard and fast; he liked to fuck her after others had already filled her back passage with their seed and almost always went last if she was being used by more than one man.
Michele grunted as Sadan's glans found her sphincter and then his cock slid easily into her, deep and snug in her lubricated passage. He immediately began to thrust in and out of her in a steady rhythm, his penis stimulating her prostate causing her penis to begin leaking precum again.
Sadan pulled Michele to her knees and she knew better than to resist him. In fact she eased herself up, ensuring Sadan's cock did not fall out of her; she began to buck back against him as he gripped her thighs and began to jackhammer in and out of her.
Michele knew that Sadan was a quick comer and she did her best to please him by meeting his thrusts and wriggling her buttocks for him when he was fully inside her. She wanted him to come quickly so that today's ordeal would be over as soon as possible. As much as she was sexually aroused, it was mostly involuntary, she had discovered early in her captivity that she couldn't prevent her body from responding to stimulation. Although she admitted to herself that she enjoyed the gratification, the caveat applied that she was being forced to endure the pleasure.
She knew what was coming next because Sadan always took his pleasure the same way. She could sense that his orgasm was approaching and soon he would roll her over and finish missionary; which is exactly what he did. Michele assisted him as he flipped her over; she lifted her legs up as Sadan pulled her heels over his shoulders and lifted her buttocks so he had unimpeded access to anus. He pulled her panties out of the way so his cock slid easily in and out of her. Sometimes the men fucked her sans-panties, but mostly they left them on and either tore open the crotch or pulled them out of the way. In fact they seldom removed any of her clothing, preferring to fuck her fully or partially clothed.
Michele lay on her back and looked up at her dark-skinned abductor; his black hair usually covered by a keffiyeh or taqiyah was stylishly western cut and dank with sweat. His eyes were dark and his white teeth contrasted with his close-cropped beard as he grimaced with the effort of fucking his transvestite slave. She looked up at her well-shaped calves and slender ankles encased in sheer, flesh-toned stockings and her delicate feet shod in black patent-leather high-heels, high in the air, one leg over each of Sadan's shoulders.
Sadan took up where he left off and began to fuck her vigorously building up to his climax. Michele raised her torso to meet his thrusts, encouraging him.
"Fuck me! Fuck me baby! Come deep inside me!" she groaned.
Unlike most of her captors, Sadan liked her to talk dirty to him when he was using her. He had used physical force to get her to do so when the men had been 'training' her but now she willingly complied.
Sadan was about to come and Michele raised her buttocks up to greet his insistent thrusts, she locked her heels behind his back and rubbed her thighs and body against him as he fell on her and began to kiss her passionately. She kissed him back, their tongues intertwining. The pressure of his body rubbing against her panty-clad penis and the intense pleasure his cock was evoking from her anus was bringing her close to orgasm.
They fucked each other hard and fast, grunting and sweating, bucking and grinding, moaning and groaning.
"Fuck that white mukhannath shermuta Sadan, and then let us get out of here quickly. We have more important tasks at hand," Ahmed quipped.
"You take too much pleasure from seeing her come," he mocked.
Michele had learned some Arabic and knew that 'mukhannath shermuta' roughly translated to 'transvestite slut'. She also knew that although Ahmed was mocking his close friend for bringing her to orgasm, Ahmed liked to see to see her come when he was alone with her having one-on-one sex. Her captors were fluent in Arabic, French, Italian and English and some of them spoke other languages as well and Michele had picked up some of the foreign words they used, as had the other captive sex slaves.
Sadan howled and ground his groin into Michele as hot seed erupted from his tumescent phallus; Michele moaned and ground herself against him, her own emission flooding her panties. The feeling of shame that she felt as she ejaculated banished by the intense pleasure she felt as her orgasm washed over her. The two men had been toying with her for about three hours now and she had been on the verge of climax a number of times; the relief she felt as the man on top of her bucked and flailed as he fucked her and emptied himself in her was delightful.
"MMMmmm! Fuck me! Come in me! Use me!" Michele goaded the swarthy Arab.
She rubbed her stocking-clad thighs against him and kissed him passionately as he gripped her tightly and emptied the last of his spend deep in anus. The intense pleasure radiating from deep in her bowel and the tingly delight emanating from her penis was beginning to subside into that intense feeling of post-coital satisfaction.
Sadan pulled his cock out of Michele's anus, untangled her legs and pushed her aside. He had finished with her now and she was just another possession that needed to be cleaned, fed, and prepared for when he and his fellow captors wanted to use her again.
Sadan sauntered away towards the bathroom; his erection slowly deflating, his cock glistening with juices.
"Go whore! Get out of here so the housemaids can clean up the mess," Ahmed ordered.
Michele pulled her cum-drenched panties into place and pulled down her skirt. As she sat up on the bed she felt warm semen begin to dry and cool on her thighs and pool in her panties as it dribbled from her anus. The front of her panties were soaked with her own spend and she knew that it would soon soak into her skirt and stocking-tops. It didn't matter; she would clean the skirt before it stained and she had literally hundreds of pairs of stockings and pantyhose; the stockings she was wearing now were laddered and holed and would have to be discarded anyway.
She got to her feet, bowed to Ahmed, and walked backward out of the room with her head bowed as she had been trained to do. Once clear of the 'playroom' she spun on her heels and tottered off to her quarters.
She had been a transvestite sex slave for over a year now and as she made her way through the dark corridors her thoughts shifted to as to how she had come to be in her current situation. She remembered how it all began...
"And so Jamhal; it has been decided by The Cabal that we will acquire a mukhannath; a transvestite. Not a transsexual, we have had transsexuals before with their huge titty implants and reconstructive surgery; we want a man who dresses like a woman. A man who looks very attractive dressed as a woman. But a man no less," Saheed dictated and Jamhal nodded sagely.
"We can fuck our women putas in the ass and we can fly in transsexual putas and fuck them; but to the Cabal it is not the same as fucking a crossdressed effeminate man."
Jamhal nodded again; he knew that Arab men grew up fucking boys and young men and that sometimes they would have the boys dress in women's garb but this would not be the same. They wanted a convincing crossdresser that they could train and use and abuse.
"He, that is She, must be around thirty or so, white of course, and very pleasing. We also prefer she be inexperienced so that we may have the pleasure of teaching her," Saheed went on.
"Go! Make it so!" Jamhal was dismissed.
The Cabal was a secretive group of profoundly rich Arab men, most of their money came from oil but they all owned other highly lucrative businesses and some were indirectly related to Emirs, Sheiks and other Arab royalty. They kept a stable of sex slaves for their use and it was Jamhal's job to keep the stable stocked with whatever took their fancy. Most of the women he abducted were eventually won over by the money that was showered on them and became compliant and willing participants. They were then released with the riches they had earned. Those who remained reluctant, and these were the most highly prized, would eventually jade the appetites of the Cabal and would also be released.
They would wake up in a five-star hotel somewhere in Europe dressed in finery and precious jewellery, with huge deposits in their bank accounts. If any of them complained to the authorities they would not be able to explain their new found riches and in any event they had no idea where they had been held captive and by whom.
It didn't take long for Jamhal to find a fitting subject for his employers...
Michael Nyland sat in seat 1A of the Emirates airbus and listened to the hostie's announcement:
"Ladies and gentlemen the Captain has turned on the fasten seat belt sign in anticipation of our arrival in Dubai. Please ensure your tray tables..."
Michael stopped listening. He began to think. He couldn't believe how lucky he had been to have landed this job. He was a software engineer and had been headhunted by a Middle East company that wanted to pay him ridiculous amounts of money to write computer programs. It was five-times his last salary and the deal included accommodation, living expenses and first class travel. Sure he would have to live in a sandpit but he would live in luxury.
But Steve had a secret that he had withheld during the interview process when they had asked him if had any personal impediments that could compromise his integrity. Steve was the rarest of animal; a heterosexual transvestite.
He had been crossdressing since he was a child; initially just wearing his mothers and sisters lingerie, later their clothes and later still he had perfected a female persona that he kept secret. He loved dressing as a woman and felt more comfortable dressed enfemme but he was well and truly in the closet.
He had a Facebook page where his alter ego Michele posted pictures of herself and speculated about her life as a closet transvestite and also a Flickr profile with hundreds of 'glam' pictures but she had never ventured out dressed as Michele nor invited anyone home. Michele was content just being Michele in the privacy of her own home.
Michael had been discovered a number of time dressed as Michele whilst growing up. His father was deceased and his mom and sister did not condone his crossdressing and so Michael had left home as soon as he could so that he could pursue his crossdressing peccadilloes and had not contacted his family since.
Michele would never have dreamt that this would make her vulnerable; but it hadn't taken Jamhal long to track her down online and decide she was the perfect candidate for the Cabal. When Jamhal had interviewed Michael for the software engineer position and had asked him the security question about whether Michael could be compromised and Michael lied, Jamhal knew he had hooked his fish.
Michael was reconciled to the fact that he would not be able to bring Michele out of her closet whilst he was working in the Middle East; the money was too good to decline the offer proposed to him. He took comfort in the fact that Michele's accoutrements were safely packed away where he could get to them when he returned home during the generous holiday periods that were a provision of his contract.
He was pleasantly surprised when his request for a last gin and tonic before landing was granted; he knew that he had to meet Jamhal tonight at the hotel in Dubai but was not too concerned; the United Arab Emirates was not a dry country. Jamhal had drunk wine during the lengthy interview process in London and had insisted on a champagne toast to seal the deal when he was hired.
Two hours later Michael was checked into the Hilton, had showered, shaved and changed and was sitting in the bar with Jamhal drinking another gin and tonic as they discussed the final arrangements of his employment.
"Drink up Michael; this will be your last drink for three months," he slapped Michael on the back.
"Once we arrive in my little country you will not be able to drink."
"Yeah, but it will be worth it considering what you are paying me," Michael laughed.
Jamhal had once again showed Michael the pictures on his tablet of the spacious apartment he would be living in, the car that had been leased for him, and the online money transfer as down payment for his services.
"Ok. One for the road and then I need to sleep," Michael said.
"Scholl!" Jamhal laughed as Michael drained his glass.
Jamhal smiled. The infidel was stupid and drunk and had not seen Jamhal expertly drop the drugs into Michael's drink; he was too busy basking in his good fortune. But Michael's good fortune had run out. He just didn't know it yet.
Michael woke up in a dungeon. A plush dungeon, carpeted, king bed with satin sheets, a large wardrobe that had been left open and appeared to be full of ladies clothing, through an open door he could see an ensuite bathroom, but it was a dungeon non the less. The only other door was closed firmly and there were no windows; the air conditioning was almost silent and over its quiet hum he could hear muffled voices; both male and female. Every now and then he would hear a peal of laughter, a grunting sound that usually accompanied someone having sex, and the odd moan of despair and pain.
This was very confusing to him, the last thing he remembered was drinking in the hotel bar with Jamhal. He didn't know how long he had been unconscious but it seemed like a considerable amount of time.
But what was most confusing, befuddling, and horrifying was that he was dressed in drag, tied to a chair in the middle of the room, the chair was bolted to the floor. One of the walls was all mirrored glass and he could see himself; or rather herself.
Michele was dressed exactly how she liked to be. She could feel the satin underwear and sheer stockings, taste the makeup, smell her perfume. Her head was coiffured in a black bob, she was wearing a black leather miniskirt, mauve satin blouse, black high-heels and accessorised with gold jewellery. She could even see that her nails were painted ruby-red.
She looked at herself in the mirror; whoever had transformed her had done a magnificent job; she could even feel that her body and legs and been recently shaved. Someone had brushed her teeth and she could taste mouthwash.
She was bewildered and had a horrible feeling that someone was watching her; the mirror was likely one-way.
Suddenly the door opened and Jamhal entered the room followed by another swarthy man of Middle East appearance.
"And so Saheed is this not just what you ordered? As you can see she is presented to you just as she appears in the pictures I showed you," Jamhal said to the swarthy one.
"She will do," Saheed replied.
"Jamhal; what the fuck is going on..." Michele shrieked
Saheed stepped forward and backhanded her across the mouth.
"You have not broken or trained her then?" Saheed ignored Michele and spoke to Jamhal.
"As you wish sahib I have left her unsullied and unbroken for the Cabal to train as they wish," Jamhal replied.
Michele was not stupid, as incredible as it seemed, the thing that one only read about in the Sunday tabloids had happened to her. She had been abducted in some strange Arab country and was being held captive.
Saheed lifted her face and inspected it closely.
"Someone has done a good job presenting her," he remarked.
"Sarina, sahib. She actually relished the opportunity to turn this stupid infidel into the delightful creature you see before you," Jamhal replied.
"I might have guessed; she has developed quite the appetite for preparing and training the new stock," Saheed grinned.
"I think I will have a little taste before I present her to the Cabal. You may go," Saheed ordered and Jamhal bowed deeply and left the room.
Michele opened her mouth to say something and Saheed struck her again.
"The next time you open your mouth it will be to take what I offer! The Cabal is patient and if I have to beat you they are quite prepared to wait until your wounds heal before they take you."
"So! One and only warning; shut the fuck up unless I ask you to speak, understand?"
Michele's head was ringing from the blow but she already knew that this man was a man of his word and had no compassion for her.
Saheed lifted her face again and inspected her. Michele strained at the bonds holding her wrists and ankles to the chair and Saheed raised his hand. Michele forced herself to relax.
"Good; you are learning," he sneered.
"So now."
Michele was horrified when the swarthy man unzipped his flies and produced a large erection. The shaft was dark and the glans purple and swollen; a glob of clear pre-seminal fluid had formed on the eye-shaped opening.
Saheed lifted Michele's face and thrust his penis towards her.
"Suck it! If you bite me I will remove your teeth one at a time with pliers and fuck your bleeding gums!" he threatened.
Michele did not doubt him.
Saheed put her head in both hands and she felt his penis rubbing against her lips then he forced it into her mouth. Pulling her head forwards he pushed her face onto him, making her take the glans of his hard member further into her mouth. Michele gagged as the throbbing member forced its way past her lipsticked lips and into her moist opening.
"Suck my cock you mukhannath whore." he ordered.
He held her head with his cock half in her mouth until Michele complied and reluctantly started suckling him.
Michele gagged as his glans rubbed against her tongue and his shaft slid in and out of her lips. Saheed looked into her pretty face, tightened his fingers and forced Michele's mouth up and down on his cock. He moaned as she grudgingly sucked his turgid penis. Glancing down he could see how wide her heavily made up eyes were and watched as she kept fighting against the urge to gag. The look of terror in her eyes aroused him further.
Michele could hardly comprehend the enormity of what was happening to her. She listened to the groans and grunts of the strong, handsome Arab and the slurping and slapping of her lips, mouth and tongue against his penis as he defiled her mouth. She was almost catatonic, as trancelike; she suckled the hard pulsing member invading her virgin mouth. At least she was no longer gagging.
Michele could sense that the man was now close to climax as he groaned and cursed and held her head tight is his hands whilst thrusting his invading manhood in and out of her mouth. She forced herself to open her eyes and watched transfixed as his groin pushed again and again against her face with quicker, shorter thrusts. His penis seemed about to burst in her mouth.
As she sensed the man's climax approach she could feel his penis swell, the tautness of his penis palpable as it trembled, close to ejaculation.
Michele suddenly felt the man's penis spasm and his semen ejaculated into her mouth. She tried hard to control her gag reflex as she swallowed each spurt as it erupted from the convulsing organ. His come tasted warm, bittersweet and musky. The man was face-fucking her and all she could do was swallow what he had to offer; it seemed like his orgasm was never going to stop.
He pulled his pulsating penis from her mouth and sprayed the last of his issue over her face and blouse.
"Take that you whore!" he groaned as his hot seed scalded her cheeks, dribbled down her neck and soaked her blouse.
Michele had begun to cry with humiliation; the taste of semen cloying in her mouth. She tried to spit and the man forced her mouth closed.
"Swallow it you cunt!" he laughed.
Michele complied and then slowly raised her head to look Saheed in the eye. She was about to speak when he raised his hand. Michele slammed her mouth shut and she winced in anticipation of the pain.
"Haha! You have learned your first lesson putta!"
Saheed rubbed his delating cock all over her face; smearing her makeup with his semen. He wiped his dripping penis on the collar of her blouse.
"Now you really look like a putta," he grinned.
"Sarina will attend to you and when you are ready she will present you to the Cabal. Heed her well and you will find your stay here tolerable. Heed her not and your stay will be, shall we say, nasty, very nasty, as you westerners like to put it."
Saheed spun on his heels and strode out of the room slamming the door behind him; drowning out Michele's sobs.
To Be Continued
Arabian Nights
By
Michele Nylons
Part Two – Training
Michele remained tied to the chair, covered in semen, defiled and confused. She isn’t stupid; she knows that she has been kidnapped and is being held as a sex slave and knows that there is going to be worse to come. The door opens.
A voluptuous dark-skinned woman enters; her heels click-clacking on the tiles. She is tall, at least six feet, she wearing a black chiffon tight pencil skirt that emphasises her small waist and clings to her thighs, the hem rests about six inches above her knees. He legs are clad in dark shimmering hose, her feet in black patent-leather pumps. She is wearing a green satin blouse open to the third button and her large firm breasts are barely contained in the lace cups of her black satin brassier.
Her jet-black hair has been straitened and hangs to her shoulders, her eye makeup and ruby red lipstick lips accentuate her blue eyes. Her gold jewellery glitters in the lamplight. She is sneering; looking at Michele with curiosity and contempt.
“You liked it didn’t you?” she grins.
“They all say they don’t; but I can tell if they do?” she saunters over and stands directly in front of Michele.
Michele inhales her scent; her perfume is strong, exotic, almost cloying.
“Don’t be so fucking stupid! I have never been so degraded in my life!” Michele spat back.
Sarina slaps Michele across the cheek and she reels at the unexpected force of the blow.
“If you didn’t like it why can I do this?” Sarina grins and reaches out and caresses Michele’s thigh.
Her hand slides along Michele’s thigh and she watches horrified as Sarina’s hand slides under her skirt, along her sleek stockinged thigh and grips Michele’s semi-tumescent penis.
Michele didn’t realise that she was partially aroused; she is so shocked at what the Arab man has done to her that she would never have believed that her body could respond so incongruously. Michele feels Sarina’s fingers gently caress her penis through her satin panties and feels her cock stiffen.
Sarina grins.
“Leave me alone!” Michele begs.
“Leave me alone!” Sarina mimics her.
She grips Michele’s penis through the diaphanous panty material and squeezes. Michele’s cock hardens even more and pulses, a drop of pre-seminal fluid escapes her glans and soaks into the gusset of her panties and Sarina uses her thumb to gently massage the wet satin against Michele’s fraenulum.
Michele gasps and Sarina laughs out loud.
“You might look like a woman but you are as weak as any man. You can’t help but respond when I touch you there.”
“It’s just a response to stimulus; I can’t help it,” Michele blushes.
Hasn’t she been humiliated enough for one day?
“Well let’s see about that,” Sarina grins.
She lifts Michele’s semen stained skirt up her thighs exposing her creamy thighs framed by the smoky silken welts of her stockings; Michele’s cock is hard, straining against the flimsy satin panties. She squeezes the pulsating penis and lowers her face and forces her lips against Michele’s. Their lipstick lips crush against each other and Sarina forces her tongue into Michele’s mouth as she slowly squeezes and strokes the transvestite’s now tumescent organ.
“You fucking bitch!” Michele gasps into Sarina’s sweet moist mouth and kisses her back.
Michele can’t hold back against the exquisite stimuli as Sarina strokes and caresses her panty-clad cock. She ejaculates and floods her panties. Hot semen erupts from her quivering member and soaks through the silky satin material forming a huge blob of white sticky coagulate that Sarina massages into the throbbing member; milking Michele of her spend. She kisses the sexy transvestite harder and squeezes, milking the last drop of Michele’s seed from her pulsating organ.
Michele groans and writhes, straining against the bonds holding her into the chair until she is sated and then falls back exhausted and spent.
Sarina disengages her fingers, sticky with Michele’s emission.
“See, I knew you liked it!” she says, her voice hoarse with her own desire.
“Now let’s untie you and get you cleaned up. You have a lot to learn,” she says, wiping her sticky fingers on Michele’s blouse.
“What the fuck is going on here?” Michele asks and is rewarded with a stinging slap across the face.
“I talk! You listen!” Sarina scolds her.
“I thought you might have figured that out by now.”
“There are some very specific rules here that I am going to explain to you very shortly but the first and most important is SHUT THE FUCK UP unless someone asks you for a response.”
Sarina strides over to a cupboard recessed into the wall and opens it. Michele stares horrified at the contents: ball-gags, restraints of all kinds, collars, leads are menacingly arranged in order of thickness, half a dozen canes and a riding crop.
“So far we have been gentle with you because you are new but that changes now. Any further transgressions and you will find yourself being disciplined with one of these,” Sarina waves at the canes.
Sarina unties Michele who is immensely relieved to be free of her bonds. Sarina takes one of the collars from the cupboard and secures it around Michele’s neck and fastens a leash to it.
“You will follow me. You will keep your eyes averted; look down at all times. Most of all keep silence!” Sarina leads Michele to the door and they start to walk down a dimly lit corridor.
Their heels click-clack on the tiles and although Michele keeps her eyes averted as instructed she can tell they are passing several recessed doors from behind two of which Michele can discern moans of pleasure from one and the sobs of despair from the other. The corridor is not that long and Michele estimates there are probably ten or twelve doors.
“Look up! This is your room; remember where it is,” Sarina orders.
The door is dark wood; it looks heavy and thick. There is a modern security lock set in the mortice that Sarina unlocks with what appears to be very high-grade passkey. Sarina then scans a security card against a card reader set into the wall and the door clicks. Sarina opens it and leads Michele inside.
Sarina leads Michele through the room and all Michele can make out is a large bed, a large wardrobe and vanity table and chair. A few floor lamps shed dull light onto what are obviously expensive rugs thrown here and there over the grey slate tiles.
She is led to the bathroom and it looks like it belongs in a five-star hotel; all sparkling white and black marble with gold fittings. There is a bath big enough for two, a glass shower stall with two shower roses, a toilet, a bidet and a long marble bench with two sinks. Every toiletry one can imagine is provided. Michele can’t help thinking that if she has to be held prisoner that this is far better accommodation than any captive would normally expect.
“Strip,” Sarina orders and unclasps the leash from Michele’s collar.
Michele shucks out of her skirt, blouse, lingerie and hose. She holds onto the counter to take off her heels.
“Put the jewellery here,” Sarina holds out an ornate box in which Michele deposits the obviously expensive items.
“You can take off the wig while you bathe but the second rule you need to learn is that Michael Nyland is gone forever from this place. While you are here you are Michele and only Michele. You will dress like Michele, talk like Michele, walk like Michele and behave only like Michele!”
“You may only take off your wig and makeup to bathe. We might see what we can do with your own hair when it grows out, but for now there is a selection of wigs for you in the chifforobe.”
“Do you understand? You will answer yes Mistress. From now on I am always to be addressed as Mistress and any man in your company is to be addressed as Master.”
“Yes Mistress. But if you intend to style my hair when it grows long, how long am I to be kept here?” Michele asks dreading the answer.
“Impertinent bitch!” Sarina raises her hand and Michele flinches.
“But a fair enough question,” she smiles wickedly.
“Until they are finished with you, until you bore them, until you are of no further use!” she laughs.
Sarina whips off Michele’s wig and unbuckles the collar. Michele is naked except for her makeup and the ruby-red false fingernails.
“Go! Scrub yourself clean! Remove all that makeup too, I will help you prepare yourself once you have bathed,” Sarina spins on her heels and strides out of the bathroom leaving Michele alone.
Michele breaks down in the shower; she sobs uncontrollably until she can cry no more. Then, as she scrubs the makeup from her face, she makes a pact with herself. Whatever happens to her, whatever they do to her, she will not break. She will not cry again. She will learn as much as she can about this place whilst obeying every ‘rule’ they impose on her. Then she will seek her revenge.
She finds a silk robe hanging on the back of the bathroom door and slips into it. It feels very sensual on her bare skin. She has obviously been professionally shaved whilst she was unconscious because except for her eyebrows, which have been plucked and shaped, and her scalp, her body is hairless. She slides her feet into a pair of sandals and notices that her toenails have also been expertly painted. She assumes that it was Sarina who prepared her for Saheed whilst she was unconscious.
Michele finds Sarina sitting in an over-stuffed lounge chair smoking a cigarette and talking on an ornate telephone, an opened bottle of expensive French chablis is on the side table and two glasses have been poured. One of the glasses is half-drunk, Sarina’s red lipstick evident on the rim. Sarina points offhandedly to the full glass and indicates to Michele that it is hers.
“Don’t worry; there is no longer any need to spike your drinks darling,” she smiles sarcastically then carries on with her conversation.
“Yes Jamhal, she will be ready. No Jamhal, Saheed did not penetrate her, she is still a virgin. You know I wouldn’t let him do anything so foolish. The Cabal will get their ‘jus primae noctis’ as promised,” Sarina continues talking as if Michele is not in the room.
Michele picks up the wine and sips it cautiously but it tastes fine. It tastes wonderful in fact. Michele has picked up enough from Sarina’s conversation to guess what is going to happen to her. She is technically a virgin she supposes, in that no penis has ever penetrated her and she knows exactly what ‘jus primae noctis’ means and it does not bode well.
Sarina finishes her conversation and turns her attention to Michele.
“Sit and I will tell you why you are here. It will save me having to answer your unending questions. You may smoke in your room unless you are entertaining. We have your brand.”
Sarina points to a pack of Marlborough Menthol Lights on the table and Michele lights up and sits across from Sarina sipping wine and smoking. She is very conscious of how absurd the situation is. She is in a voluptuous apartment wearing a silk robe, drinking expensive French wine and smoking cigarettes, sitting across from an extremely attractive Negress who is about to tell her why she has been kidnapped and taken against her will by a group of Arabs.
Sarina tells Michele about the Cabal. Not everything of course but enough to let her know that she is in the clutches of an extremely wealthy group of men, being held in a country where the Cabal can do as they wish and that there is no chance of escape for her.
“You are not the only, shall we say guest, I hate the word captive, here. But you are the only mukhannath,” she finishes her explanation.
“Mukhannath?” Michele asks.
“Transvestite,” Sarina replies.
“You have been selected because you are an extremely attractive mukhannath, because you are unsullied, and also because your disappearance will go largely unnoticed. You are estranged from your family and everyone else who knows you knows that you have gone to the Middle East to work. You have few friends to miss you. You are in fact ideal for their purposes.”
“Everything you say is true Mistress but surely the captives must complain when they are released?” Michele enquires.
“Some grow to like their work. Most grow to like the money. And none know where they have been held captive and they find it hard to explain to the authorities why they are healthy why have amassed large amounts of cash and property during their so-called disappearance,” Sarina explained.
“And you Mistress?”
“Oh me Michele? I quickly came to realise that not only do I like the work and the wealth but that I also like the power. That’s why I am in charge of the shermutaun. The whores,” she smiles.
“Enough now! Let me show you around your apartment and then we need to prepare you for your debut.”
Michele is amazed at how well appointed her ‘apartment’ (she notices the word cell is never used) is. A king sized bed, expensive furniture, a well stocked bar including a fridge and wine conditioner, a chifforobe (as Sarina refers to it – betraying her Southern American roots) full of clothes, lingerie and shoes. A large vanity table with every cosmetic imaginable including expensive perfumes. A selection of wigs of every colour and style are mounted on wig-stands in the chifforobe. Nothing has been spared and nothing is cheap.
“Under the bench in the bathroom is a washer and dryer. You are responsible for your own laundry except for items requiring dry-cleaning which you are to place in that hamper,” Sarina points it out.
“You will find that your lingerie and hosiery will require replacing quite frequently, just let the maids know what you need,” Sarina smiles, amused by Michele’s puzzled look.
“Now, shave your face closely, brush your teeth, gargle with mouthwash and return to the vanity so I can watch you prepare. I have seen your Flickr profile so I know you are adept at makeup but tonight you must be prefect.”
Michele returns freshly shaven and sits at the vanity. Sarina nods approvingly after she runs her fingers over Michele’s face to ensure there is no hint of stubble. Michele’s glass has been refilled and she takes cautious sips; she lights a cigarette but Sarina stubs it out.
“Some of the men don’t like smoking and your breath needs to be sweet and clean,” she explains.
Michele takes time applying foundation; she has selected a foundation that closely matches her skin colour and covers up the few blemishes that mark her face and liberally coats her face and neck with matching finishing powder. Michele now has the blank canvas on which to apply the rest of her cosmetics.
Michele applies jet-black kohl next, from the inner corner of her eyes to the outer corners, gradually thickening the line. When she has a thick, even, black line running along the edge of her eyelashes she reaches for the eyeshadow.
She selects indigo blue, which she applies to her eyelids and blends it with a shade of dark grey, which she brushes onto the upper part of her eye sockets.
“That’s good; they like their women to wear bold coloured makeup,” Sarina remarks.
Michele applies black mascara to her lashes. Although she is being held captive she finds that the concentration required to get her makeup perfect distracts her from her fate. She rouges her cheeks, defining her cheekbones.
“Here use this; it will set and highlight your makeup,” Sarina hands her a jar of 'Skin-Glow' finishing powder.
Michele applies it and is impressed with the subtle radiance it gives her face.
Michele is pleased to see they have her favourite Covergirl 'Outlast' lipstick in ‘ever red-dy’, which is the bright red colour she prefers. She applies the base coat carefully just outside of her lip-line so that her lips appear fuller. She leaves it to dry then bites down on a tissue to soak up any residue, then she applies the clear topcoat.
“My god you are better at this than most women,” Sarina laughs and sips her wine.
“Here, they like this,” Sarina offers her a bottle of ‘Poison’ perfume.
Michele sprays herself liberally with the scent and looks up to find Sarina holding up a shoulder-length, black bob wig with cerulean highlights. Michele takes it from her and brushes it to improve the sheen of the hair. Sarina stands behind her and helps Michele position the wig on her head and adjust it so that the fringe is straight and level with her eyebrows.
“Ok. Now we select your clothes,” Sarina says.
“The Cabal debated hotly as to how you are to present yourself. Would you believe one of them even wanted you dressed in a stupid ‘I Dream of Jeannie’ outfit, but after studying the pictures of you that Jamhal presented, a consensus was reached.”
“You are to dress like a businesswoman. Some of them see the irony that a businessman got on the plane to Dubai but a businesswoman will arrive in their midst,” Sarina is smiling sarcastically herself.
Michele stands up and steps into a black satin and lace suspender belt that is fitted with three garter straps on each leg and then Sarina assists her into a matching brassiere.
“Breastforms Mistress?” Michele inquires.
“No they will want to play with your tits, small as they are,” she grins wickedly and Michele shivers with disgust.
Michele sits back down in front of the vanity and slips a pair of taupe nylon stockings up her legs. She stands so Sarina can adjust the dark back-seams so they are straight while Michele fixes the dark welts of the stocking-tops to her suspender straps. Michele runs her hands up and down her legs to remove any wrinkles and can’t help enjoying the sensuous feel of the nylon on her freshly shaved legs.
Sarina hands her a pair of black satin full-cut panties and helps Michele slide them up her legs and smooths them around her buttocks and over the suspender belt. She reaches round and strokes Michele’s flaccid penis and it begins to engorge.
Then she cruelly squeezes Michele’s scrotum and she yelps in pain.
“Don’t get hard. You probably will when they fuck you but not now,” she orders.
“Unlikely Madame,” Michele responds.
“We’ll see. Some of the little strumpets around here screamed with pain when they were first taken that way and now they beg for their Master to put it in their tight little poopies,” she says scornfully.
Michele looks disgustedly at Sarina who just shrugs.
“I don’t mind it up the shitter now and then either but I have been told that men have a special place up there that drives them wild with desire; like a woman’s G-spot.”
Michele tries to think of anything but sodomy by concentrating on dressing.
She steps into a black satin half-slip. The lace hem flutters against her stocking tops. She pours another glass of wine and sucks at it greedily trying to erase the images in her mind of what is about to befall her.
“Enough wine! We don’t want you sozzled when you make your debut,” Sarina demands.
Sarina has returned from the chifforobe and holds up a navy blue women's business suit and then lays it out on the bed and beckons Michele over. Michele steps into the skirt and admires it. It fits her perfectly; taut at the waist and tightly moulded to her thighs. Without the kick pleat at the rear she wouldn’t be able to walk in it but it looks both professional and sexy, the hem rests mid-thigh.
Next she buttons herself into a mauve, long-sleeved, satin blouse and tucks it into the waistband of her skirt and closes the zipper. She adjusts the waistband and hem of her skirt, ensuring the hem of her slip is covered. The skirt is tight around her buttocks and thighs and the hem sits high up on her legs.
Sarina struts over to the chifforobe and selects a pair of black high-heeled pumps and kneels down in front of Michele who is seated back at the vanity and helps her put them on.
Michele thinks momentarily of how easy it would be to kick Sarina in the head or spike her with her heel but what good would it do? Even if she got out of the cell she wouldn’t know where to go or what to do next.
Sarina opens a jewellery box and mooches through the collection. She slips a gold anklet on Michele’s right ankle and adjusts it so that it sits just above her anklebone. She slips on a pair of gold drop earrings; Michele has both ears pierced so no need for clip-ons. Sarina places two gold bangles on each of Michele’s wrists and a matching gold chain necklace around her neck.
“Stand! Look!” she commands.
Michele looks at herself in the full-length mirror fitted to one of the chifforobe doors.
Even she has to admit that she looks magnificent; femme, attractive, and most of all, sexy.
Sarina has retrieved the collar and leash while Michele was admiring herself in the mirror and Michele obligingly lowers her head and allows Sarina to affix them to her neck. Sarina picks up the phone and dials.
“She is ready,” she says and hangs up.
Michele is led down the dim corridor by Sarina, the only sound now the click clack of their high-heels. Michele is shivering with dread at what lies ahead of her.
To be continued.
Arabian Nights
By
Michele Nylons
Chapter Three – Deflowered
"Only one word of advice I can give you; don't resist them," Sarina whispers into Michele's ear.
"Thank you Mistress," Michele responds.
"You won't thank me when they deflower your tight little arsehole," Sarina responds.
Although obviously American Sarina used the English word ‘arse’, rather than ass.
"I can't and won't help you once we are inside. You need to know that I am not your friend; I am your Mistress. In fact I'm going to rather enjoy watching them take you."
"I have seen several girls here lose their virginity but never a transvestite virgin deflowered; it’s going to be, shall we say, interesting," Sarina's voice is cold and she yanks on the leash causing Michele to stumble on her heels.
"What do want purveyor of whores?" Sarina barks.
Michele looks up to see Jamhal standing near a closed door with an insidious grin on his face.
He rubs his hands together and grins.
"I have found them a beauty indeed! Who would know that a man is disguised inside that wonderful creature" he beams.
"Fuck off Jamhal or I will have you whipped!" Sarina hisses and Jamhal scuttles away laughing to himself.
"We all despise him; he kidnapped every girl here. Even those of us like me who now enjoy our employment do not forgive him," Sarina hisses.
"Ok, this is it," Sarina points a long painted fingernail at the imposing door.
"Keep silent! If they ask you to speak remember to address them as Master."
"They won't mind you crying or screaming when they do what they will to your body, or even if you moan with pleasure; but don't talk unless they demand it!"
"Moan with pleasure? While they force themselves on me?" Michele is aghast at the very idea.
"I've seen it," Sarina sniggers.
Sarina opens the heavy door and drags Michele inside and leads her into the centre of the room. It is the same room where she came-too after being drugged and was forced to fellate the one called Saheed. He is standing with a group of naked men drinking around a small but well stocked bar.
"Masters Saheed, Ahmed, Sadan, Ilias, may I present to for your pleasure, Michele," Sarina bows and pulls on the leash forcing Michele to bow also.
"Let us see the mukhannath," Ahmed bellows.
Sarina lifts Michele's chin and the men circle her.
"She is as beautiful as you said Ahmed. And she is unsullied?" asks Ilias.
"Yes she is unsullied but I gave her a taste of my cock," he laughs.
They walk around her admiring her elegant made-up face framed by the black bob. One reaches out and slides a finger along the back seam of her stockings; his fingers disappear under her skirt and fondle the lace trim of her half-slip than massages her stocking-tops. His fingers stop when they reach the smooth skin at the top her thighs.
The man's cock has begun to harden and Michele shivers.
"She likes it!" Ahmed laughs.
Michele can't take the humiliation and pulls herself away.
"Fuck off! I can't take this!" she screams, a single tear runs down her face.
"Sarina! Adjust the shermuta to suit our needs!" Saheed orders, then without warning strikes Michele across her face.
"Not too hard Saheed; I want her pretty when I fuck her," Ilias laughs cruelly.
The men retire to the bar, laughing and carousing, pouring drinks. They are in no rush; Michele is going nowhere.
"I warned you!" Sarina hisses in Michele's ear and drags her across the room to a huge bed covered in satin sheets.
Sarina throws Michele onto the bed and she lies there; her skirt has ridden up revealing her slip and the welts of her stockings. The men are staring intently; some are becoming aroused.
She roughly lifts Michele's wrists one at a time and secures them into the leather cuffs of a stainless steel spreader-bar and then affixes her ankles in the cuffs of another. She lowers a leather leash with a harness attached that is suspended above the bed and fastens the reins to each of the cuffs.
Michele is hoisted to her knees and Sarina fastens the leash. Michele can move her body a little but her legs and arms are splayed. The only way she can avoid pain is to kneel on all fours. She feels humiliated and helpless.
"You bastards!" she hisses.
"Oh no Michele; my father and mother were married before god before I was conceived," Ilias sniggers.
"Get me the cane; it is time to tame this shermuta," Sadan orders putting down his drink.
He walks to the bed; his erection standing out proudly in front of him and Michele is repulsed.
Sarina hands him a cane about one meter long and the men gather round the bed. They are now all tumescent with lust.
"Lift her skirt," Ilias says.
One of the men, Michele can’t see which, runs his hands up the back of her legs and caresses her thighs then rucks up her skirt, opening the kick-pleat and pulling her slip out of the way. His fingers caress her buttocks through the gauzy satin panties and Michele shudders.
"I told you she is pretending; she likes it see," the man standing behind her says.
Michele is about to retort when he digs in his fingers and rakes his nails against her soft flesh.
"Oh fuck!" Michele cries.
"Later!" the man laughs and moves out of the way just as Sadan brings the cane down on her buttocks.
The pain is searing and Michele moans. He strikes her again and again; the pain is agonising, burning. After five strokes he stops and Michele falls forward but the harness supports her weight. She is sobbing; gasping for breath.
After what seems like an eternity the pain begins to subside; it is now just a burning sensation spreading across her cheeks. The men crowd around her, pulling her panties aside to examine the red welts on her creamy, white cheeks.
"See the trick is to hurt her; but not to mark her permanently," Sadan laughs.
"Enough!" says Saheed.
"I want her now!"
"And I," echo his three partners.
Michele feels the bed move as the men close in on her. She raises her head and is greeted by an erect penis inches from her lips. It is thrust forward and she opens he mouth obligingly. She knows what will happen if she doesn't.
Then she is surprised to feel a cool gel being gently massaged into her burning flesh. The cock in her mouth begins to thrust in and out of her lips.
"Suck!" Ilias demands, slapping her across the head.
Michele obligingly suckles the member in her mouth. The man behind her squeezes more of the cool lotion on her backside and suddenly Michele realises what it is the man is massaging into her tight puckered anal bud. It's lubricant.
Before she can protest Michele feels her sphincter penetrated by a hard object.
Saheed is taking his prize as the leader and senior member of The Cabal. He eases her panties aside and guides the swollen glans of his penis into Michele's lubricated anus and stops once the head of his penis has penetrated her.
Michele wants to scream but can't because she has a mouth full of hard cock.
Michele moans as Saheed's cock forces its way past the tight bud of her sphincter. It is the most intense pain she has ever felt. Saheed's cock feels like a red-hot poker as it splits her back passage.
Michele bucks and tries to force the invading member from her rear entrance but Saheed takes hold of her hips to keep her still. She is powerless because the spreader bars severely restricts her movement.
"She is tight this one!" Saheed hisses, "Definitely unsullied!"
Ilias removes his penis from Michele's mouth.
"I will wait until you are done Saheed, I don't want this bitch biting my cock! She's bucking like a camel with a Bedouin up its arse," Ilias laughs.
Michele is crying in pain but tries to force herself to relax. She spreads her weight evenly on her hands and knees; her fingers dig into the satin sheet. Sensing her compliance Saheed pushes forward and more of his cock is forced past her clenched sphincter.
Michele raises her head and sees that the other three men are staring intently at her; they are all sporting large erections.
Sarina is slowly masturbating one of the men and another has his hand under her skirt. The look of lust on Sarina's face as she watches Michele being ravaged makes Michele feel even more degraded.
Michele soon realises resistance is futile and the best course of action for her is to try and minimise the pain. Her buttocks are still stinging from the cane and her anus is on fire.
"Oh God; please take it out?" Michele begs.
"Did you say you want more?" Saheed mocks the pretty transvestite impaled on his cock and pushes a little more of his turgid penis into Michele's passage.
His glans is now ringed by Michele's tight sphincter; she is gripping his cock so tight with her anus that he's afraid he will come too soon.
"Sarina!" he points at the tube of lubricant lying on the bed and clicks his fingers.
Sarina lets go of Ahmed's cock and Sadan takes his hand out from under her skirt. He licks cunny juice from his fingers. Sarina is getting hot watching Saheed fuck the transvestite businesswoman.
Sarina squeezes lubricant onto her fingers and then applies it to Saheed's shaft and he nearly climaxes, Michele's tight sphincter is pulsing around his glans and Sarina is rubbing the cool, slick lubricant along his shaft.
"Desist!" Sadan orders.
Sarina returns to the other three men who immediately begin pawing at her.
"Fuck this; I can't wait for Sadan to finish. I will go last with the mukhannath," Ahmed declares.
He bends Sarina over, lifts her skirt and stabs his throbbing between her legs impetuously. He rips her panties open and thrusts his cock deep into her vagina. He grips her hips and fucks her rhythmically. Sarina manages to stay on her feet; her high-heels tottering. She gasps and pushes back against the cock buried in her cunt. Bent over as she is, it's too tempting an offer for Ilias to refuse and he pushes his cock in Sarina's face. She takes the proffered member in her hand and guides it over her lipsticked lips and uses her tongue to lap at his fraenulum. She begins to suck on Ilia's cock while Ahmed fucks her hard from behind.
Saheed has taken a short rest with just the head of his cock inside Michele's anus and combined with the application of lubricant to his shaft, it has to some extent eased the worst of the pain. Now it is just uncomfortable, rather than burning. She wriggles her backside as much as the spreader-bar will allow, until Saheed's cock is not causing quite as much discomfort and then she forces herself to slacken her sphincter.
"That's better putta; now you are behaving like the whore you are to become," Saheed pushes a little more of his cock inside her tight ring.
Michele feels her anal passage distend as Saheed's cock invades her virginal back passage. Michele feels pressure and discomfort inside her again; the pain returns as Saheed's cock thrusts deeper inside her. She grits her teeth and tries harder to relax her anal muscles.
"Oh, oh, oh!" Michele gasps and Saheed smiles.
Tears of pain stream down her face but she perseveres and instead of fighting against Saheed she uses her own strength to control the rate at which his invading member is entering her.
After a few minutes of suppressed agony and silent screams she is fully impaled on Saheed's shaft; her soft buttocks resting against his groin. Saheed sighs as Michele holds herself still and relaxes her internal muscles allowing her anus to accommodate Saheed's swollen penis. Another beat passes and she is past the worst of the pain. She feels stuffed and invaded but the pain has begun to recede and becomes a feeling of general uncomfortableness.
"Nice and tight mukhannath whore," Saheed sighs.
Ahmed is fucking Sarina hard and fast, excited as he watches his friend fuck the transvestite dressed as a businesswoman. Sarina is bucking against him, finding it hard to stay on her feet. Ahmed fucks her from behind while Ilias stands in front of her with his cock in her mouth. She too is watching Michele being ravaged by Saheed and her excitement is reflective of the amount of juice dripping from her tight warm pussy.
Saheed pushes his groin and wriggles his hips swivelling his member around inside Michele, loosening the tight grip of her anal muscles on his erection. Pre-seminal fluid is leaking from the eye of his cock as he becomes more aroused and this further lubricates his shaft and he begins to slowly thrust his cock in and out of Michele's anus. Michele digs her fingers into the bed-sheets and tries to control the tempo as he begins to fuck her.
The long slow strokes and the steady stream of pre-come is lubricating Michele's back passage and helps her to relax her internal muscles. Now that the pain is easing somewhat, Michele decides that the best way to get the ordeal over with as soon as possible is to cooperate with the man invading her virginal anus. She gets into rhythm with Saheed, concentrating on getting her ravishment over with the least possible pain.
"Oh fuck that looks so sexy," Sadan whispers; the excitement evident in his voice.
As the only person in the room not actively engaging in sex with another person he feels somewhat left out. He gently strokes his erect penis as he stares with voyeuristic intent as Saheed fucks Michele. The sight before him is highly titillating and the anticipation of participating in the orgy is getting him extremely aroused.
The attractive mature white transvestite is being fucked doggy style by the dark-skinned Arab behind her, her legs spread wide by restraining bar between her ankles. Her hair cascades around her pretty face as she arches her back. Her eyes enhanced with eyeshadow, thick mascara, and eyeliner, are closed in concentration. An occasional tear runs down her roughed cheeks and her lipsticked lips are slightly parted as she pants with exertion and pain.
Michele's navy blue skirt is bunched at her waist exposing the black lace suspender belt; her thighs held apart, and Sadan's eyes follow the suspender straps down her thighs to where they are clipped onto the welts of her stockings. He strokes his cock harder and his eyes follow the back-seams of her stockings to where they merge with the Cuban heels of her nylons.
Her perfume wafts across the bed; it is inviting and arousing, he improves his erection with long slow strokes.
"I want some of the mukhannath now!" he groans and approaches the bed, and climbs up on it.
Saheed leers at his Cabal brother.
"You think she is ready for you?" he asks, an evil smile on his sweat-soaked face.
"You're only using one hole; I might as well use the other," Sadan grins.
Michele is now quite comfortable balanced on her hands and knees while Saheed slowly fucks her. The pain has subsided and although she still feels ashamed and humiliated, in the dark recesses of her mind she realises that a scintilla of pleasure is starting to course through her body. She has adjusted herself so that the head of Saheed's penis is massaging her prostate as he slowly thrusts in and out of her. Reflexively she is matching the pace of his thrusts and adjusts her position to take advantage of the stimulation.
"Yes putta; you can't help but enjoy my sword! You are indeed an infidel whore," Saheed grunts as he fucks the tight arse.
Saheed no longer needs to physically force Michele to participate in the fucking so he moves his hands to her thighs, stroking her stocking tops as she slowly humps back against him. Michele opens her eyes to see Sadan kneeling on the lounge; his erect cock inches from her face.
She is pragmatic enough to realise that if she doesn't allow Sadan to participate, things will only get worse for her. 'Why not get this over with?' she thinks to herself, it is obvious what Sadan intends to do to her and if she does not comply another beating will be forthcoming. Michele decides to capitulate.
Ahmed and Ilias are busy fucking Sarina so if they come in her Mistress she might only have to deal with these two. So why not get it over with now?
Sadan's hard cock, bobs inches from her face, he is slowly stroking it and a musky aroma wafts up from his phallus. She closes her eyes, holds her breath and opens her mouth in offering. The rigid member slides into her hot moist mouth. She gags at first but then she begins to suck on it as Sadan slowly thrusts in and out of her red lipsticked mouth.
At first Michele finds it hard to control her breathing as Sadan's cock slowly works its way in and out of her mouth. She is also struggling as she tries to maintain the rhythm and pace of Saheed's fucking whilst at the same time fellating Sadan. She concentrates hard and is eventually able to synchronise her body movements to accommodate fucking Saheed whilst fellating Sadan.
Now it is a matter of getting this over with as soon as possible. She trills her tongue under the sensitive base of the Sadan's glans and she can feel his cock throb in her mouth. Sadan reaches out and places a hand on Michele's head and eases her face back and forth in time with his thrusts. Sadan's short stubby cock is actually easy for Michele to accommodate and she has no trouble breathing while she accepts his organ in her mouth and further stimulates it with her tongue.
Michele is now fully engrossed in the sex and has to concentrate in order to coordinate pleasuring the two cocks simultaneously. She sucks on Sadan's cock and licks and slavers at his glans whilst maintaining a steady rhythm in concert with Saheed's fucking. Her anus is dilated enough so that she is able to pull her bottom forward so that just the glans of Saheed's cock remains trapped by her sphincter and then she pushes back until the hilt of his shaft is buried deep inside her bowel. The friction of his glans on her prostate and his shaft on her sphincter is sending waves of pleasure through her body. She can no longer pretend to herself that she is not taking pleasure from the sex. She is still fearful of the consequences of her imprisonment and despite feeling totally degraded she can't control the involuntary gratification she is feeling.
Saheed begins to quicken the pace and Michele matches him thrust for thrust; his crotch makes loud slapping sounds as he slams against her thighs and buttocks. Michele fucks him back, timing her thrusts to meet his; Sadan's cock increases its tempo, sliding in and out of her painted mouth faster and faster as she sucks and slavers at the slick throbbing meat.
"My climax approaches!" Saheed groans.
"Mine too brother!" Sadan moans in reply.
Michele feels her back passage flood as Saheed jams his cock deep inside her and pushes her buttocks down forcefully on the bed, squeezing her thighs painfully. He pushes his cock deep inside her anus as stream after stream of hot semen ejaculates inside her. Michele can feel the viscous fluid filling her as Saheed's cock convulses.
Then Sadan's cock shudders in her mouth and shoots a torrent of warm sticky sperm. She swallows and sucks hard on the quivering organ; tasting another man's sperm for the first time. It tastes musty and creamy; not unpleasant, but not salty as she has heard it so often described.
"Take my seed you mukhannath shermuta!" Saheed howls as the last of his spend empties into Michele's anus.
Michele grinds her buttocks into Saheed's crotch, her anal muscles milking him of the last of his emission. Warm semen floods her back passage and Saheed's glans presses against her prostate in the final throes of ejaculation. Michele feels her own penis become tumescent.
Sadan pulls his cock from Michele's mouth as the last jets of ejaculate spurt from him and he splashes her face with semen. She gasps in surprise and degradation as Sadan's seed sprays her hair and splatters on her face. Her eyes sting as the warm secretions mix with her mascara and run down her face. A few final spatters splash on to her blouse and she feels it soaking through the satin material and onto her skin.
Sadan and Saheed are laughing at her distress.
"She doesn't like that does she?" Sadan bellows as the last of his sperm dribbles from his cock and down her blouse.
"No, but I have deflowered her and she has performed adequately!" Saheed laughs.
Saheed pulls his cock from Michele's distended anus and watches some of his spend dribble down her thighs and soak into the tops of her stockings. He's sated for now and he spanks her buttocks playfully before climbing off the bed.
"You did well mukhannath shermuta! But you will learn to do better," he announces as he strides to the bar.
Sadan joins his partner at the bar and they pour drinks. Michele is still suspended by the spreader-bar harness and has to remain on all fours with her skirt still hiked up and her face covered with drying semen. She is sobbing with humiliation.
She lifts her head and sees that Ahmed has forced Sarina to her knees and is fucking her doggy-style; pulling on her long jet-black hair, using it as a rein. Sarina grins at Michele as she bucks and wriggles her buttocks to aid in Ahmed's pleasure. She is panting and groaning and obviously enjoying being fucked by the young Arab.
Ilias is just watching; stroking his cock but then he turns to look at Michele.
"Ah! My brothers have finished with the infidel transvestite; so now it's my turn!" he grins.
Michele shudders in fear at what is about to come. She was hoping that both Ilias and Ahmed would sate themselves on Sarina; but now Ilias wants to use her for his gratification.
Ilias climbs onto the bed and roughly raises Michele's buttocks and moves into position between her spread legs. He gazes at Michele's soft white buttocks as a rivulet of Saheed's semen drizzles from her sphincter.
"You have lubricated the putta well for me Saheed," Ilias laughs.
Ilias puts his hands on Michele's hips and pulls her back hard against him. He pushes forward with his hips and feels his member nestles in her lubricated anal bud. He grunts and pushes forward with all his bodyweight and his shaft slides slowly and steadily inside Michele's tight back passage. His crotch slams hard against her soft creamy buttocks and he grinds his crotch in a circular motion against Michele's lovely soft behind.
Michele screams as Ilias' cock forces its way inside her but there is no real pain. She is well lubricated and still dilated from the fucking she has received only minutes earlier. Ilias' member slides slowly but inevitably deeper and deeper inside her until she feels him pull her soft buttocks back hard against him; he gyrates his hips as he works his turgid member around inside her back passage.
"I'm coming!!" Ilias moans as his orgasm courses through his body.
Then Michele feels the hot gush of semen deep inside her for the second time that night, as Ilias empties himself deep inside her.
Ilias howls and shudders as his orgasm climaxes; he grinds his hips harder against Michele's buttocks. Michele is still semi-erect from her last fucking and as Ilias' glans pulsate and throb against her sensitive prostrate, splashing it with his hot seed, exquisite sexual pleasure pulses through her lower regions and her penis stiffens and she ejaculates; her semen dribbles down onto the satin sheets. She can't suppress the pleasure even though she feels utterly debased.
Ilias pushes Michele forward and pulls away from her and his cock exits her anus with an audible plop. He takes a handful of her slip and cleans his cock on it. The three protagonists watch as trickles of semen seep out of Michele's sphincter and run down her thighs, soaking into her stocking tops.
"Thanks for the fuck putta!" Ilias quips and slaps her on the bottom.
Michele is still recovering from her own orgasm. She now knows what Sarina meant when she tried to explain the male 'G-spot' to her. She looks up; her face and hair smeared with semen and her anus dribbling the emissions of the two men, and sees that Sadan is about to finish.
He is gripping Sarina's slim waist and fucking her hard as she bucks and pushes back against him. They both groan and moan, Sarina grinding her buttocks into Sadan's crotch as he empties himself into her quivering vagina. They buck and rub against each other until they are both spent. Sadan pushes Sarina off his slowly deflating member and joins his compatriots at the bar.
"I wanted to fuck the mukhannath shermuta too but once I was in that black bitch I couldn't stop," Sadan laughs.
"Enough for now my brothers; we have business to attend to. There is plenty of time for us to play with the mukhannath again. Sarina will continue to educate her," Saheed espouses.
"Sarina; take the mukhannath back to her room. She is to be kept separate from the other girls; the only contact she is to have is you and of course the Cabal."
"I don't want her cock anywhere near my other girls. The mukhannath shermuta is not to be trusted! She claims she is being ravaged against her will and then spends herself on my satin sheets!" Saheed chuckles.
All the men laugh at Saheed's joke and then turn their backs on Sarina and Michele and mutter to themselves as they drink at the bar.
Sarina gets up off the rug and adjusts her skirt. She releases Michele from the spreader bars and Michele sighs in gratitude.
"Here," she offers Michele a facecloth so she can wipe the semen from her face.
Michele then wipes the crevice between her buttocks; semen is still oozing from her anus as she adjusts her panties, slip and skirt.
"Come!"
"Yes Mistress," Michele obligingly offers her neck to be tethered by the leash.
During the long walk back to Michele's room, her prison cell really, nothing is said. The only sound is the click clacking of their high-heels on the smooth hard floor.
To be continued...
Arabian Nights Part Four – The Whore
By
Michele Nylons
Back in her cell Sarina helps Michele undress.
“That suit isn’t too bad; you can just brush it and hang it up. That blouse will need a soak to get the come out of it. Check out your lingerie and stockings and if they have any rips or tears just ditch them. You get an allowance for lingerie and hosiery; the boys are always tearing them because they are so rough, but anything else you clean yourself or replace it out of your own money,” Sarina explains.
“My own money?” Michele is quizzical.
“Sure. I told you, when you leave here you will have earned a small fortune. There is a Swiss bank account set up under the name of Michael Nyland and a weekly stipend is entered into it minus what you spend on clothes.”
Sarina went on.
“When I get out of here I’ll be worth a fucking fortune and I won’t be selling my sexy black arse anymore. I’m going to retire in luxury.”
“But that is no recompense to what they are doing to us! It’s slavery! It’s degrading!” Michele whines.
“Yes; but they could just dump you somewhere after they’ve finished with you with no money and no way to get back at them.”
“Or they could do worse,” Sarina looks Michele in the eye, a very serious look on her face.
Michele doesn’t want to explore that statement any further; she shivers and begins to disrobe.
“Look, clean yourself up and get dressed into something nice. The rules are pretty simple. Us girls have to be ready to receive any of the Cabal from ten in the morning until midnight. We have to be dressed up nice and sexy and ready to please any man at any time.”
“Often there will be parties or group sessions like we just had; but you will be given notice and specific instructions if that is the case. Also there may be some special requests.”
“Come over here,” Sarina calls Michele over to a desk on which there is a laptop computer.
“This laptop is wired into a local LAN; there is no outside access, so don’t bother trying to send emails or anything. Usually when you are required you will get a text message here,” Sarina shows Michele a text box on the computer’s desktop.
“When you get a text that light will flash and the buzzer will sound until you read and acknowledge the text,” Sarina points to an LED light on the wall. There is a small speaker beside it.
“So outside of providing entertainment for the Cabal, your time is your own. You can’t mingle with the other girls unfortunately so you will have to make do with entertaining yourself.”
“There is satellite TV and streaming movies, you can order books, you can pretty much do what you like.”
“You are required to exercise an hour a day, there are gym clothes in the chifforobe; female ones of course because you are always to be dressed enfemme and wear makeup.”
“The fridge has healthy snacks and there is the bar over there but don’t start drinking before seven in the evening or you will be punished. Don’t overeat, they don’t like chubbies, or you will be punished.”
“All you have to do is stay slim, dress sexy, give them sex when they want it and you will stay out of trouble.”
Michele is stunned. She is a prisoner in a gilded cage.
“I will be able to assist you for a while and as the Cabal has decreed, I will be the only other girl you will make contact with, but you will soon get the hang of things here.”
With that Sarina walks out of the apartment closing the door firmly behind her.
Half-undressed, Michele collapses on the bed and cries herself to sleep. She doesn’t know how long she has been asleep when she is awoken by a faint buzzing sound. She looks up and sees the LED flashing and so she makes her way over to the laptop.
‘Be ready at nine PM. Sadan and Mique will visit you in your room. Don’t forget to douche. Sarina’
There is a button below the message ‘Acknowledge’. Michel guides the cursor over the button and presses it.
Michele looks at the ornate clock on the nightstand; it’s six PM.
She shucks off her skirt and puts it on the bed and then undresses. She walks into the bathroom and searches around until she locates a washer and dryer discretely tucked away behind a wall panel. She drops the blouse and bra into soak and throws her tattered, cum-stained panties and laddered stockings into a bin.
She looks at herself in the mirror. Her makeup is smudged and she has dried semen on her face and in her hair. She pulls off the wig and scrubs her face using the makeup remover and the towlettes provided. She stands there on the cold tiles; a slim man with a shrivelled penis, dried semen on his legs and buttocks.
Michele hates what she sees and dives into the shower to scrub herself clean. She never wants to see Michael Nyland again while she is here. He is banished until she leaves this place. In here she will always be Michele!
She shaves her face again whilst she is in the shower as she can feel just a hint of stubble on her cheeks. She washes and conditions the wig and lays it aside just outside the shower stall. She uses the douche but there is very little waste inside her; she hasn’t eaten since she got off the plane and she thinks that may been as much as two days ago.
She gets out of the shower, slides into the silk gown and moves into the bedroom to carefully apply her makeup. Feeling better she puts on a brunette shoulder-length wig. Now she looks like Michele!
She goes back into the bathroom and carefully brushes out the wig that she washed in the shower and places it on a wig stand to dry. She hangs up the pinstriped business suit and puts her heels away.
She steps into a pair of full-cut satin panties and slides a pair of sheer hold-up stockings up her long legs. Now she really feels femme. After applying some deodorant and perfume she feels relaxed. She has some time to further explore her prison cell.
Michele discovers she is indeed living in luxury. She starts at the chifforobe and finds more than twenty different outfits; everything from sophisticated evening dresses, to slutty miniskirts, cocktail dresses, even French Maid and schoolgirl outfits. The drawers are packed with lingerie and hosiery. There are three different size breastforms, ten pairs of high heels, and half a dozen wigs. At the vanity there is enough makeup to open her own cosmetics counter at Boots and there is jewellery aplenty.
All of this will come out of her ‘wages’ of course.
The bar and small fridge behind it are a well stocked and in a small but functional kitchenette is a three-quarter-size fridge filled with delicacies. There is a full blown entertainment system with a hard drive packed with every kind of music imaginable; another hard drive connected to the TV holds hundreds of movies including many pornographic titles. She turns on the fifty-inch TV and sure enough there are over one hundred satellite channels and connections to two video-streaming sites.
She is indeed a prisoner in gilded cage!
Michele takes another nap and is again awoken by a text message: ‘Just relax and go along with it. I saw you come today when you were fucked so don’t pretend you didn’t like it. Be compliant but don’t behave like a slut. Make them feel in control. Sarina’
Michele acknowledges the message and pouts for a while.
“Don’t pretend you didn’t like it indeed!”
“I was forced!” she shouts to the empty room but deep inside she isn’t so convinced.
She looks at the clock: eight o’clock.
“Fuck!” she says and heads off to the shower again to wash herself and brush her teeth.
Michele pours herself a glass of Savignon Blanc and takes a seat at the vanity. She is naked and begins the well-learned ritual of transformation.
Michele looks intently in the mirror and carefully applies foundation and then a coating of finishing powder. Next she applies eyeliner liberally to her upper and lower eyelids, from the inner corner of her eyes to the outer corners, gradually thickening the line. She selects dark blue eyeshadow, which she brushes on her eyelids and blends with a shade of mauve which she brushes onto the upper part of her eye sockets and right up to her eyebrows. She rouges her cheeks to define her cheekbones and applies another light dusting of face powder. She carefully brushes a heavy coating of mascara onto her lower and upper eyelashes.
She selects Covergirl two-coat long-lasting lipstick; the base coat is a deep plum red; once it has set she applies the clear topcoat. The whole procedure has taken about thirty minutes.
Michele brushes out the brunette, shoulder-length wig she has selected and positions the wig on her head and adjusts it so that her fringe is straight and level with her eyebrows.
She looks in the mirror and is happy with what she sees. Her fingernails still have the nailpolish on them from earlier in the day and only require a small touch-up here and there.
Michele steps into a pair of white satin full-brief panties, they have a lace trim and she savours the feel of the cool delicate fabric on her skin. She adjusts the waistband on her hips and steps into a black satin garter belt sitting it snugly around her waist, carefully threading the suspender straps under the waistband of her panties and out of the legholes.
She slides into a pair of fully-fashioned, fifteen denier, high-sheen, taupe stockings, carefully straightening the seams before clipping the silver garter clips to the dark welts.
She puts on and adjusts a white satin bra; she has already attached silicon breastforms to her chest with cosmetic adhesive. She reaches for her jewellery clipping silver drop earrings to her ears, fastening a matching pendant around her neck and sliding bracelets over both wrists. She puts rings on the fourth and index fingers of both hands.
The ensemble is completed with a tight black satin-lined leather skirt and a mauve satin blouse. She slips on black high-heel pumps and sprays herself liberally with perfume.
“Well I hope they like what they are getting,” Michele says to the empty room.
Michele drains her wine, pours another and drains that and then pours another.
“Here’s to you, you mukhannath shermuta! You transvestite whore!” she giggles, quite drunk now.
“What did that black cunt say; ‘be compliant but don’t behave like a whore’, I can do that,” Michele looks at the clock and as it ticks over to nine PM the door opens.
In walks the man she knows as Sadan and another she hasn’t seen before. They stride into the room as if they own it; which they do.
“What do you have here Sadan?” the other man smiles wickedly.
“She is our first mukhannath, Mique; is she not wonderful?” Sadan beams.
They are wearing dishdasha; long flowing white robes, their feet clad in sandals.
“That’s no woman; although she looks very becoming. She’s a transvestite,” Sadan explains, examining Michele carefully with his dark eyes.
The men examine her, their eyes roam brazenly over her face, body and legs.
“She is indeed better looking than some of the women I’ve fucked!” Mique laughs.
The men ogle her; taking in her heavily madeup face, her femme physique enhanced by the tight skirt and brazenly staring at her stocking-clad legs.
Michele remains standing sipping her wine and the men walk past her to the bar and pour themselves a scotch. It’s almost like she isn’t a person to them, just a possession.
They sip their drinks, leaning against the bar and stare at her, talking in Arabic. Then they revert to English again.
“You know Mique? Women just don’t dress like this way any more. She’s one sexy bitch!” Sadan says his breathing has become ragged.
“Our women have become Westernised in a bad way. Too much jeans, sneakers, T-shits and no makeup, they don’t emulate the better infidel women who dress sophisticated and sexy,” Mique replies.
“Now that you point it out, she IS one sexy bitch,” Mique grins, an ominous bulge is growing in the front of his robe.
Michele knows there is no escape. She must resist a little, Sarina has briefed her so, but she doesn’t want another beating or to be restrained.
Michele knows that she has no chance of fighting off the men. She will have to capitulate to save herself more pain. She drains her glass and a single tear runs down her cheek.
“The bitch is crying,” Mique said sarcastically.
He puts down his drink and walks up to Michele; he is so close she can feel his breath.
“We can do this the easy way or the hard way,” he says, tracing a finger slowly down her body, starting at her painted red lips and stopping at the hem of her skirt.
“Are you going to behave yourself Michele?” Mique smiles.
“Your wish is my command Master,” Michele whispers.
Sadan moves in close to his friend.
“You will do as your Masters command!” Sadan smiles.
“See we have already tamed the mukhannath shermuta,” he beams
Sadan moves into Michele and guides her over to bar.
“Pour more drinks putta. You may have another if you like,” he is standing so close that Michele can feel his breath on her face.
She pours them each a scotch and hands them their drinks and tops off her wine. She drinks it greedily.
Sadan drinks his scotch and puts down the glass. He takes Michele’s wineglass from her.
Michele feels trepidation as she is pulled into Sadan’s arms and he kisses her full on the lips, sliding his tongue into her mouth, encircling her in his arms. Michele forces herself to relax as she sucks on his tongue, pushing her body hard against his but she fills with dread as she feels his cock begin to swell against her body. Sadan takes Michele’s hand in his and moves it between their bodies down into his crotch and grunts into her mouth.
“Touch it bitch; you know you want to.”
Michele reaches out and tentatively and strokes Sadan’s tumescent member through his robe. It feels big and hard and although she is sure it is her imagination, it appeared to radiate heat through the material of his dishdasha. Sadan’s cock tents the front of his dishdasha and he gives out a little moan as Michele cautiously fondles him, her ruby-red fingernails scratch at the fabric as she slowly and excruciatingly traces the outline of his cock.
“Take it out bitch,” Sadan pants into her mouth and then crushes her lips with his.
He is pushing his groin against Michele’s body, trapping her hand between them, as she strokes the bulge in his dishdasha. His tongue wriggles in her mouth; the taste of her lipstick and scent of her perfume further arousing him. He pulls his groin back from Michele’s body and takes her hand off his tented robe and guides her fingers towards the opening in his robe.
Sadan impatiently tugs at her hand until she capitulates and slowly puts her hand inside his robe.
Michele’s fingers hesitantly explore the inside of Sadan’s robe and soon find sleek, hard flesh. She controls her revulsion and wraps her fingers around Sadan’s long thick cock and feels him shudder against her. She begins to stroke him, in the futile hope that he will climax before he makes her do anything more degrading.
Sadan breaks their kiss and takes Michele by the shoulders and eased her body away from his a little.
“Take it out; I want to see you take it out,” he whimpers, his lust evident.
Michele’s painted fingernails pluck at the sash around Sadan’s robe; she eases the robe from his shoulders down to his waist. He is naked and another single, mascara-stained, tear runs down her cheek. She is to some extent faking; remembering what Sarina said about being compliant but not behaving like a whore.
“Please don’t make me do this,” she begs.
“Take it out bitch!” Sadan sneers.
Michele pulls the robe down until it puddles at his ankles. His cock springs upright between them; the tip of his purple glans glistening with silvery pre-seminal fluid. Sadan’s cock is enormous, at least ten inches long, pink and thick. His foreskin stretches around the bulbous glans. The dark scrotal hangs down between his legs; a musky odour floats up from his crotch and invades Michele’s nostrils.
Michele gasps as Sadan takes her hand and places it on his manhood and watches as Michele gently wraps her fingers around it; her ruby-red fingernails contrasting with flesh of his shaft. She slowly eases her fingers down the shaft, pulling back the foreskin, and exposes Sadan’s glossy purple glans. The musky aroma intensifies.
Sadan pulls Michele back against him and smothers her sobs with a passionate kiss. She resignedly strokes Sadan’s enormous phallus as it throbs in her fingers.
Sadan relishes that Michele is reluctant to masturbate him, the feel of her feathery fingers loosely caressing his turgid member is about all he can stand without coming. He reaches down and firmly disengages Michele’s fingers from around his shaft.
“I am not yet ready to climax,” he pants into her mouth pressing his lips against hers.
Sadan pulls Michele’s body hard against his again, enjoying the feel of his cock against the material of her skirt. He holds her body against his and his other hand slides down her body and rests on her buttocks. Michele’s sobs are muffled by Sadan’s savage kisses, his lips grinding against hers and his tongue invading her mouth. Tears run down her face causing her heavy eye makeup to streak.
Sadan roughly fondles Michele’s buttocks and the material of her skirt slides effortlessly across her plump rear, her skirt slithering against her satin panties. The sounds of rustling of nylon and satin, and the smacking of lips and slurping tongues and the smells of perfume and the musky smell of sexual arousal fill the air.
Mique has taken out his penis and is slowly improving an erection standing out proudly from his robes.
Michele plays along with her role; pretending to be non-compliant but secretly resolved to what is about to happen to her. She makes a final supplication for mercy.
“Please……..” she pleads.
“Oh there’s no need to beg shermuta; you are going to get what you deserve!” Sadan and Mique both laugh sarcastically.
Sadan puts a hand around her throat and hisses menacingly into her face.
“You might as well capitulate putta; it’s either this or another beating!”
Michele realises that her protests are useless, she stops sobbing and resigns herself to her fate. She rationalises to herself that she only has to get through what will soon follow and then these barbarians will leave.
She makes her mind go blank and she totally capitulates; she has endured total degradation already today so there is probably nothing more that these men can do to her that hasn’t already been done.
Sensing Michele’s acceptance, Sadan pulls her body back against his and begins to kiss her again, this time there is no resistance; she is reluctantly returning his kisses, her tongue flicking against his. Sadan’s erection returns to full tumescence as he humps up against Michele’s skirt and scrunches her buttocks through the layers of leather and satin.
He reaches down the rear of her skirt and puts his hand inside the kick pleat and then slowly starts to lift her skirt up. Michele tenses but forces herself not to resist. When Sadan has the rear of Michele’s skirt hiked up he reaches between their bodies and grasped the front of her skirt and hikes it up as well so that her skirt is rucked up around her waist.
Michele stands on her tiptoes, raised up on her high-heels she leans forward, her arms around the large solid man, she hesitantly returns his kisses; her skirt rucked up around her waist. Sadan rubs the delicate material of her skirt against her; caressing her tight pantied buttocks.
Sadan’s cock is now rubbing against the front of Michele’s satin panties sending waves of pleasure through his body. He reaches down and takes Michele’s hand and guides it to his rock-hard member.
“Slowly,” he groans into Michele’s mouth.
She understands what he means and takes the hard pulsing flesh in her hand and softly squeezes it until she feels Sadan buck against her and she ever so slowly begins to masturbate him. She is surprised by the girth of his member and the by heat radiating from it as it pulses in her hand. She masturbates him with long slow strokes, establishing a steady rhythm. Sadan moves his groin back and forth in time with her strokes, fucking her hand.
After a few minutes of intense stimulation Sadan slowly starts to walk Michele backwards until she feels the edge of the bed against her legs. He pushes her down so that she is sitting on the bed, her hand still stroking his enormous member. Michele guesses at what is about to happen and grimaces with revulsion.
Sadan removes Michele’s fingers from around his cock; it stands out from his body, proudly erect, quivering inches from her eyes. Pulsing veins encircle the meaty shaft and a silvery thread of pre-cum oozes from the eye of his glossy purple glans down onto her lap, soaking into the material of her skirt.
Michele dreads what is coming next but knows it is inevitable. Sadan puts out a hand and pulls Michele’s face towards his cock.
Sadan gasps as Michele begins to slowly lick his cock. She works her tongue around the bulbous head until it glistens with her saliva and then she runs her tongue up and down the shaft concentrating on the delicate frenulum where the glans joins the shaft of his penis. Sadan watches the attractive, mature transvestite; her face somehow sexier with her smeared makeup, attend to his phallus with her tongue. He stands this for a minute or two but then becomes impatient and pushes his cock against her lips signalling his need.
Michele understands and resignedly takes a deep breath and opens her mouth as far as she can, and allows Sadan’s massive penis to push over her lips and inside her warm moist mouth. She concentrates on her breathing as about six inches of the purple headed invader slide into her mouth and then she begins to gag.
Sadan eases himself out of her mouth a little until she has her gag reflex under control and then he begins to leisurely fuck her face. Michele submits and stretches her lips around his shaft and slavers at his glands with her tongue; her aim now is to induce Sadan’s orgasm as soon as possible and get the ordeal over with.
Sadan is close to coming but he doesn’t want to just yet so he pulls his cock from Michele’s mouth with audible plop and it wobbles menacingly in front of her eyes.
“Mique, come and enjoy the mukhannath shermuta with me. I do not want you to feel left out!” Sadan laughs.
Mique moves over to the bed, his long thin cock sticking proudly out the front of him; the sleek shaft and glans glistening from the saliva he has used to lubricate it whilst masturbating, watching Michele fellate Sadan.
Mique pulls Michele’s face away from Sadan’s crotch pushes his face onto hers and begins to kiss her passionately.
Michele responds, kissing Mique and suckling his tongue. Sadan moves onto the bed and lifts Michele onto the bed so that she is kneeling on the satin sheets, Mique kneels on the bed and continues to kiss her. All three are now kneeling on the bed and Michele senses that the sex will quickly progress beyond foreplay and fellatio.
Sadan moves behind Michele, and rucks her skirt up around her waist, and admires the view: Michele’s buxom ass clad in the white satin panties, her legs encased in diaphanous nylon and feet shod in the sexy black pumps. He strokes her buttocks through her panties.
Sadan moves closer behind her, pushing Michele’s knees apart so that he can position himself between her legs with his immense cock resting on her panty-clad buttocks. He lifts the panty material away from her crotch and slides his cock inside so that it rests in the crease of her buttocks; the top of his penis covered by her satin panties. He slowly rocks back and forth, dry-humping her.
Michele feels Sadan’s huge penis rubbing against her rear and realises that soon Sadan will no longer be happy to dry-hump her and will try to penetrate her. The thought of that monstrous cock invading her near-virgin rear passage is horrifying and she makes one last attempt to induce his orgasm. She pushes her backside out and begins to pump back and forth in time with Sadan’s thrusts.
Mique feels Michele’s movements and breaks their kiss so that he can see what is happening.
“You are enjoying the back of the mukhannath; so I will enjoy the front,” he says and pushes down on Michele’s shoulders, forcing her down so her face is level with his crotch.
Michele allows her upper body to be forced down so that she is kneeling on her hands and knees with Sadan dry-fucking her pantied ass and Mique’s erection bobbing inches from her face. Mique pushes forward and Michele has no choice but to open her mouth and allow his cock to slide into her mouth.
Mique is careful not make Michele choke or gag; he can feel her lips close around the shaft of his cock and her tongue flutter against his glans. So long as she capitulates, he doesn’t want her to choke and try to spit him out. He humps Michele’s face slowly back and forth letting his climax slowly build.
Michele’s movements are contributing to Sadan’s pleasure as he enjoys the feel of her soft satin-encased buttocks pushing back and forth along the underside of his member but he knows that he can’t keep this up for much longer. He guesses correctly that Michele is trying to get him to climax before he can fuck her but he has other plans.
He quickly pulls his cock out from between her buttocks. He reaches into the drawer on the bedside table and takes out s tube of lubricant, fills his hand with the slippery substance and then kneels back down and applies the viscous lotion all over his phallus. He carefully lifts the gusset of Michele’s panties away from her buttocks. He positions the head of his penis against her puckering anal bud and pushes hard.
Despite the lubrication Michele screams as her sphincter and then the walls of her anus stretch to accommodate the huge phallus invading her back passage. When Sadan has eight inches of his cock buried inside Michele he stops pushing and rests, his hands gripping her wriggling hips as she tries to expel his invading member.
“Keep still putta; relax!” he orders and slaps Michele on the buttocks.
Through the searing pain Michele knows that Sadan is right. The only way that she will be able to accommodate the huge organ inside her without excruciating pain is to force herself to relax her rectal muscles. She concentrates on doing just that.
Sadan feels the vice like grip of Michele’s sphincter and then her anal muscles slowly relax. He pulls his cock out of her anus until just his glans remains inside her, and then slowly begins to fuck her.
Michele feels Sadan withdraw, and then slowly fill her again; this time the passage of his member is eased by the lubricant but her back passage still burns and aches as Sadan’s cock invades her but at least the pain is now tolerable.
Sadan grasps the side panels of Michele’s panties and begins to ride her, his cock slamming in and out of her tight ass. Sadan gets into a steady rhythm pounding in and out of Michele’s back passage as she progresses through feelings of intense pain and numbness; until miraculously; a feeling of fullness that is not unpleasant combines with small waves of pleasure emitting from a source inside her anus.
Michele understands what is happening; Sadan’s penis is stimulating her prostate gland, his shaft is also stimulating the sensitive nerves of her sphincter. This feeling is similar but more intense than the feeling she had earlier today when her virginity was taken, and her own cock thickens in the front of her satin panties.
Sadan pulls at the waistband on the sides of Michele’s panties as he rides her, thrusting back and forth against her, he is unintentionally stimulating her. Her panty crotch rubs back and forth across her penis and Michele lets out an animal groan from deep within her throat.
Mique watches his accomplice fuck the sexy white transvestite. He knows that he can’t contain himself much longer. He is further aroused because he realises the bitch is not only letting his colleague fuck her; she is enjoying it!
He lifts Michele’s face to his erect penis and without any encouragement; she engulfs it in her mouth, her lips sucking at the shaft and her tongue feathering along the sensitive glans. He will be coming soon he realises; and he holds Michele’s head and begins to fuck her face.
The two Arabs and the sexy mature white transvestite get into sync; their thrusts orchestrated with Sadan pounding himself in and out of Michele’s soft sexy buttocks and Mique plunging his cock in and out Michele’s heavily made-up face. Michele rocks on her hands and knees in time with her antagonist’s thrusts; except technically they are no longer her antagonists. She is enjoying it; and her own cock pulses inside her panties as rings of pleasure travel out from her back passage.
Michele feels her panties tear as Sadan pulls her buttocks back hard against his groin; he pushes forward with all his might forcing every last inch of cock deep inside her. Michele pushes back against him as she feels hot semen fill her rectum. At the same time Mique groans and his cock pulses in her mouth ejaculating a flood of semen that she swallows as best she can.
Some of Mique’s spend dribbles past her lipsticked lips and runs down her chin and she can feel some of Sadan’s issue seep past her ravaged sphincter and run down her thighs and soak into her stockings. Michele’s own orgasm rocks her and she ejaculates; flooding her panties with creamy semen.
Michele moans around Mique’s phallus as it squirts the last of his load into her mouth; Sadan and Mique both gasp and groan as they empty themselves inside the transvestite whore impaled between them. Sadan can feel Michele’s anal muscles spasm and her sphincter contract, milking him of his seed; whilst Mique feels her lips slither and slide up and down his shaft while her tongue slathers at his glans extracting every last drop of his spend.
Eventually all three of them begin to descend from the pinnacle of their orgasms. Mique recovers first and pulls his cock out Michele’s mouth and rubs it over her face in one last gesture of humiliation. A few droplets of sperm mix with Michele’s makeup, her face is now a mess of lipstick, rouge and mascara. A long gobbet of semen is drying on her cheek. The humiliating gesture is lost on Michele as she greedily laps at the slowly deflating member.
Mique pulls himself away from Michele and stands, reaching for his dishdasha.
“You pretend you don’t like it mukhannath shermuta; but you are really just a whore!” and he laughs as he dresses.
Sadan pulls his cock from Michele’s anus with an audible plop. Semen mixed with lubricant run in a rivulet from Michele’s anus down her thigh and soak into her tattered stockings. Sadan wipes his cock on the remains of her ripped panties and then pushes Michele facedown on the bed.
“You have performed well my pretty putta; better even than this afternoon. I’m glad I waited to fuck your infidel arse,” Sadan platfully spanks Michele’s buttocks and reaches for his robe.
Michele lies face down on the bed panting, recovering from the throes of her orgasm but disgusted with herself still the same. She has not only capitulated to the demands of her captors; she has reluctantly enjoyed it. She can justify to herself that she has been forced to submit; but at a sub-conscience level she has to admit that she enjoyed being ravaged. The evidence is right there in the gusset of her panties!
She gets slowly to her knees as she hears the door to her apartment close behind the men as they leave.
To be continued…………………………….
Arabian Nights – Part Five – Defiled
By
Michele Nylons
Sadan pulls his cock from Michele’s anus with an audible plop. Semen mixed with lubricant run in a rivulet from Michele’s anus down her thigh and soak into her tattered stockings. Sadan wipes his cock on the remains of her ripped panties and then pushes Michele facedown on the bed.
“You have performed well my pretty putta; better even than this afternoon. I’m glad I waited to fuck your infidel arse,” Sadan spanks Michele’s buttocks and reaches for his robe.
Michele lies there panting after the two men leave. Yes she has been forced to comply; but yet she can’t deny that she has enjoyed the sex. Her soaked panties are testament to that and the afterglow of being fucked is like no other feeling she has ever experienced. Her genitals and anus are still tingling with pleasure.
There is a rap on the door; undoubtedly Sarina coming to check that she has performed her duty and to give her another lecture about being obedient, keeping her apartment clean, and looking after her clothes. Well fuck her! Sadan is pleased with her and that’s all that matters. Michele is a quick learner.
She pulls down her skirt and walks to the door. She opens it wide expecting Sarina but Jamhal quickly steps inside and closes the door behind him.
“You have bought the Cabal much pleasure I hear?” he growls.
“You are indeed a beauty; I am usually not attracted to mukhannath, to boys yes, but not the - what do you call it? – Shemale?”
“Fuck off Jamhal; Sarina has told me you are not allowed in the girls rooms,” Michele tries to get around him to the door but he blocks her path.
Michele has had enough for one night.
“Fuck off you pimp cunt!” she screams at him.
Jamhal grabs Michele around her waist. She is no match for his strength and he simply lifts her up and puts her over his shoulder. Michele kicks and struggles but Jamhal just spanks her buttocks and laughs.
“Oww!” she cries.
“Stop it then!” Jamhal says, his hand squeezing her buttocks through her semen soaked panties.
“You can’t touch me Jamhal, the Cabal will punish you,” Michele screams.
“You are no longer unsullied putta; they will not care. Besides it feels like you have already succumbed to their ministrations,” he chuckles as his fingers explore her semen sodden panties.
“You will regret this!” Michele whines.
Jamhal throws Michele on the bed and falls on top her. He smashes his mouth against hers. He gyrates against her, his tongue working feverishly in her mouth, his lips crush hers. He grips her behind, pawing at her buttocks and he pulls her lower body harder against him. He dry humps her; pushing his erect member against her through her clothes. Michele perceives a deep humming deep down in his throat and he begins to breathe heavily as he continues to kiss her deeply.
Jamhal reaches a hand between their bodies and adjusts his penis, then his hand flies back to her buttocks and he rucks up her skirt and uses both hands to caress her buttocks through her panties and pulls her against him.
He grinds himself against her, his cock hard against her lower abdomen. Michele feels the girth of his tumescent penis though the layers of her clothing. She does not respond and allows Jamhal to do what he is doing, hoping to get it over with.
Jamhal’s kisses are hard and insistent he can taste her lipstick and makeup.
"Yes Mukhannath! You taste, smell, and feel like a girl; but you have the parts of a boy" Jamhal moans.
Jamhal reaches down again struggling with his erection; he pushes it down then releases it so that it springs forward and at the same time he forces Michele’s legs open.
His cock is now wedged between her legs; hard against her crotch.
"Oh my god!" Jamhal groans and begins to hump against her.
He gets into a rhythm, dry fucking Michele in time with his feverish kisses; slowly circling his manhood against her body. Michele can feel his turgid penis trapped between her pantied crotch and gossamer cloaked thighs. Jamhal pushes against her and thrusts his cock into the silken trap made by her nylon-clad thighs and satin panty crotch. She can feel the head of his penis rubbing itself along hers through her panties.
Jamhal quickens his pace and his cock begins to throb. He pushes against Michele harder and holds her so tight that she is afraid that he will squeeze the breath out of her. His tongue is now a wild wet animal, thrashing in her mouth, fluttering and exploring every crevice.
Both his hands clench her buttocks, squeezing them roughly through her panties as he pushes her down into the mattress to the rhythm of his thrusts. He groans and grasps her buttocks so tight that she is worried he will tear through her already ripped panties. He pulls her hard against him and she feels his penis begin to pulse and throb. Then he quickly pulls himself away from her.
"No, no, no, no, you don't mukhannath! I will not spill my seed on you; I am going to spend my seed inside you!" he gasps, his body shuddering as he concentrates on preventing his orgasm.
Jamhal rests for a minute, then he moves from between her legs and moves further up the bed kneeling with his crotch level with her face. His hard cock wobbles in front of her eyes.
"Touch it!" he orders.
Michele reaches out with her hand, and gently strokes his turgid member with her fingertips.
Jamhal leans back slightly so that he can see her painted nails trailing along his shaft as she masturbates him. A thin thread of shimmering clear pre-come runs from the purple head of his penis and drips onto the sheets. He reaches out and caresses her stocking tops and then works his way up to her panties. Michele stiffens as she feels his hand go inside her panties and begin to fumble about. She forces herself to relax and he eventually finds her soft cock nestled in the crotch of her satin panties and he begins to free it from its little prison.
Michele concentrates on slowly masturbating him to the best of her ability. She grasps his member tightly and slowly squeezes and then flutters her fingers against the shaft as she works her hand up and down his penis. He is obviously enjoying it because he stares at her hand stroking him while his own hand strokes her stocking tops. His finally frees her penis and begins to squeeze it harder and harder.
Michele strokes his cock with firmer faster strokes. He lowers his head and kisses her, gently sliding his tongue along her gums, exploring her mouth. Then he sits back on his haunches removing his hand from inside her panties.
Jamhal reaches out and put his hands on her shoulders and turned her sideways on the bed. He draws himself closer and takes her head in his hands and pushes his crotch forward so that his glans nestles between her lipsticked lips. He keeps pushing until she opens her mouth. The musky smell of his loins mingles with the tang of his body odour.
"You take this shermuta and don't bite or I will beat you!" he warns.
He pushes his sleek hard manhood into Michele’s mouth until she begins to gag and then he commences fucking her face. He thrusts his sleek-skinned penis in and out of her mouth. Underlying the taste of his body odour there is also a sweet salty taste that she now knows to be pre-seminal fluid. Her gag reflex remains suppressed as long as he doesn’t drive his cock too deep into her throat, and she can tell that he is acutely aware of this because he is obviously holding himself back.
Michele breathes through her nose to compensate for the thick member filling her mouth. Jamhal tightens his grip on her head and eases his cock purposely in and out of her mouth. He pulls it back until her lips circled his purple glans and then thrusts forward, forcing his turgid meat deeper into her mouth. She moves her tongue around his shaft and can sense his enjoyment. Jamhal is moaning and grunting with pleasure.
"Yeah you whore, you like this don’t you!"
"Take it shermuta, take it!" Jamhal howls.
Jamhal quickly pulls his penis from her mouth and sits back on his haunches again.
"As much as I would love to fill your pretty face with my spend I have other plans," he pants.
Jamhal rests for a minute or two, occasionally reaching down to kiss her passionately to keep himself aroused, but being careful not to drive himself over the brink.
He moves back down to the bottom of the bed. He jams two pillows under the small of Michele’s back and lifts her lower body off the bed. He rucks her skirt up around her waist and pulls her legs apart and then lifts her high-heels high up off the bed. He sits on his haunches between her outstretched legs, he holds her nylon-sheathed legs open; her gleaming black high-heels held high. Her heavy makeup is smeared from Jamhal's kisses and sweaty passion; her damp hair is strewn around the pillow framing her face. They are both panting.
Jamhal positions himself further up the bed so that his member rubs against her panty crotch. He reaches out and pulls the gusset of her panties to one side exposing the crevice of her behind.
Michele knows what is coming and instinctively she tried to push herself down into the mattress and away from the invading member but Jamhal takes hold of her waist and digs his hands into her body to hold her steady.
"Oh no you don't putta; hold still while I tend to my needs, it will all be over soon" he hisses.
Jamhal adjusts his member so that his glans nestles against the bud of her sphincter. Michele feels him pull the gusset of her panties further across her buttocks so that he has an unobstructed view of his penis poised at her rear entrance; his erect member pushes against her sphincter.
Jamhal takes Michele’s hand and guides it to his penis. It is rock hard and she puts her fingers around it; it feels enormous and menacing, throbbing in her fingers. Jamhal looks down to see her lying there with her legs wide apart, her high-heels held high in the air, her legs encased in her diaphanous nylons with her white satin panties pushed to one side, exposing her buttocks. He watches as her long delicate fingers, their red painted nails glimmering with the lamplight, slide feather-like up and down his hard cock.
His hands move to her hips and she can feel his glans press against her sphincter. The head of his penis slides inside her tight anus, the remains of Sadan and Mique’s semen still inside her assist his entry.
"Oh God!" she groans as Jamhal’s penis invades her anus.
Michele lies there with her legs spread, skirt hitched up; Jamhal's ample stomach hanging over her as he thrusts harder. His eyes close in concentration and ecstasy as he pushes more of his tumescent member inside her. He groans and holds her tight; Michele feels a searing heat as her insides are once again invaded.
Jamhal's well-lubricated shaft drives itself all the way inside her; her anus still lubricated with Sadan’s semen. His cock is so big, and so deep inside her, that it knocks the wind out of her. She feels Jamhal's thighs against hers, his skin whispering on her nyloned legs as he grinds into her. His large gut is now resting firmly against her belly and his hands give way and his full weight presses down on her.
"Oops my precious, I better not fall down," he laughs, "I'm just about to start the ride!"
He pushes himself back up and takes his weight on his arms and kisses her neck. Then one of his hands fumbles around at the front of her crotch. His hand strokes her sleek thighs as he slowly fucks her back passage.
Jamhal begins to slowly thrust in and out of her, hardly moving his cock more than an inch in and out; he is panting and slobbering at her neck, kissing and licking her. Michele closes her eyes and tries to relax her internal muscles, attempting to ease the pain in her back passage.
Jamhal's hand strokes her thighs and groin as he slowly fucks her, he is obviously delighted in the feel of the slinky nylon and satin on his skin because he pushes his crotch hard against her buttocks on the in stroke. He begins to fuck her harder and faster, establishing a hard and fast rhythm. Michele relaxes her sphincter and concentrates on keeping her back passage loose to accommodate him.
"Open your eyes shermuta!" he gasps, "Look at me!"
Michele opens her eyes and turns to face Jamhal. He is thrusting against her, his sweaty body glistening with exertion; his hand is under the front panel of her panties ferreting around, pawing and stroking. He is alternately kissing her and slobbering at her neck. He thrusts in and out, pivoting his waist to get all of himself inside her, rubbing his scrotum on her nylon covered derriere at the top of his in-stroke.
Her back passage is full and it aches as Jamhal's invading member slides in and out of her, but oh god, she begins to feel the spongy hard mass of his glans as it pushes against her prostate. She feels the first ripple of sexual pleasure from her anal cavity.
Michele raises herself up so that her buttocks push back against Jamhal and sways her hips from side to side to increase Jamhal's pleasure and ensure her buttocks rub against him, as he obviously loves the feel of her satin panties against his skin. She turns her head, allowing Jamhal to kiss her pouting lips.
Jamhal begins to pound himself in and out of her. As much as she feels defiled, she can still feel the wonderful tingle of excitement every time his cock massages her prostate. He fucks her harder and harder and grunts and pants as his cock slides in and out of her tight passage. He grasps her hips and pulls her hard up against him, thrusting forward and back. He jackhammers himself in and out of her, groaning and cursing.
"Fucking bitch! Fucking Whore! Take this you shermuta cunt!" he screams.
He pushes in hard and grates his scrotum against her backside as he shudders. His grips her waist. Michele senses his cock begins to convulse inside her as it secretes his hot spend. Jamhal's cock actually expands further and fills her completely and Michele thinks that the walls of her back passage will tear as Jamhal orgasms deep inside her. Spurt after spurt of hot seed streams into her as he rocks slowly back and forth. Jamhal is hissing obscenities as his orgasm peaks. She feels his spend drip from her sphincter and run down into the crack of her behind.
Jamhal's cock pulsates and throbs against her sensitive prostrate, washing it with his hot seed, she experiences a stab of exquisite sexual pleasure pulse through her and she stiffens and ejaculates into the front of her already come-soaked panties. Michele shudders and moans with pleasure although she feels utterly debased.
Jamhal pushes her down into the mattress and pulls his cock back so that it slides out of her. A torrent of semen joins the trickle already running down her crack and, as Jamhal lifts himself up, globs of semen drip from his member onto her stocking tops and legs. Michele can't believe how much semen he has expended.
Jamhal leans down and kisses her full on the lips.
"Thank you putta," he laughs.
Michele lies panting, recovering from her orgasm. Her mind is reeling; what else can possibly happen to her?
Jamhal adjusts his clothes, takes out his wallet and extracts a one hundred thousand Rials and throws them on the bed.
“That’s probably what a mukhannath shermuta would earn in a high class brothel,” he sneers.
“You take care of yourself Michael, sorry Michele, you are going to be here a long time,” he says as he leaves.
To be continued…………..
Arabian Nights
By
Michele Nylons
Part Six – The Conclusion
Michele sat sobbing as she told Sarina about being taken forcibly by Jamhal, the Cabal’s vicious pimp. She told Sarina how Jamhal had justified his actions because Michele was no longer unsullied.
“Sullied, unsullied - it means nothing to the Cabal. You are their property and it is forbidden for anyone to touch you other than the Cabal or those they have given permission to do so,” Sarina explained.
“Like you?” Michele eyed her mentor, smiling mischievously.
“Like me,” Sarina smiled back and stroked Michele’s stocking-clad thigh.
“Eek, pimp come!” she giggled and wiped her fingers on Michele’s skirt.
“Stop it Sarina this is serious!” Michele shuddered and Sarina put a friendly arm around her shoulders.
“I know Michele. That fucking arsehole has forced himself on some of the others here too; and if you think about it, he is the source of all their misery. He is the one the Cabal sends to hunt down their slaves,” Sarina replied.
“But I think I finally have a plan to take the fucker down. It’s complicated, but it might just work now that you are here,” Sarina went on.
“Why because I’m here?” Michele asked.
“Because you have something none of us girls have,” Sarina winked.
“Let me talk to some of the others because we will need some cooperation and I will get back to you soon.”
“Now clean up and go to bed my little tranny girlfriend,” Sarina kissed Michele on the lips, briefly slipping her tongue into Michele’s mouth but quickly retracting it.
“Good night sweetie,” Sarina called as she headed for the door.
The next day arrived and Michele waited patiently for her muse to arrive.
“So here is my plan; it’s complicated but there is no reason it won’t work,” Sarina and Michele sat smoking in Michele’s room, sharing a bottle of Pinot noir.
Sarina went on to explain:
“The Cabal have had problems in the past with some of their trusted servants, shall we say, ‘tasting the wares’ without permission.”
“Of course this cannot be tolerated and transgressors pay the ultimate price. But…. The Cabal insists that there is compelling evidence against the alleged offender; they will not take the word of a puta over one of their own.”
“We will have to manufacture such evidence against Jamhal. This will involve taking his DNA and placing it in a very compromising place.”
Michele frowned quizzically so Sarina went on to explain.
“His jizz will need to be found in a pussy it has no business being inside,” Sarina smirked.
“As well as camera surveillance, the Cabal use simple DNA tests, sometimes called ‘rape kits’ to determine if one of their chattels has been violated.”
“We will need to provide evidence that meets both of these proofs and we will also need a willing collaborator. In this case Simone,” Sarina went on.
“You know Simone, the fair-skinned English rose, barely out of her teens, not long arrived?”
Michele had briefly met, if you could call it that, a number of the Cabal’s sex slaves during various orgies but not Simone, so she shook her head.
“This will work out even better then as there will be nothing to link you to Simone. Let me explain exactly how this is going down.”
And so she did. Michele listened attentively and only interrupted when she needed clarification. It was a daring and dangerous plan but if it succeeded, it will have been well worth the risk.
“As you know, Jamhal is employed by the Cabal to provide them with a stable of beautiful young girls. He is paid well but the girls must be unsullied, that is their virginity must be in tact,” Sarina explained.
“But as I have told you, Jamhal can’t keep his cock to himself and almost all cases Jamhal tastes the wares before he delivers them.”
“But........” Michele asked; but Sarina quickly interjected.
“Yes! So how does he deliver them unsullied? You should know. How do you have intercourse but keep the lady’s hymen in tact?” Sarina posed.
Michele was confused but then it became obvious. Sarina saw the understanding dawn in Michele’s eyes.
“Exactly! And that is why the girls all hate him. Yes they hate him because he abducted them, but they hate him even more because he has taken them anally against their will while they were drugged.”
“Oh my god!” Michele explained.
“None of the girls are willing to help us even though they hate him; except for Simone. But she has one condition. Jamhal does not get to have any form sexual congress with her.”
“And that’s where you come in. Jamhal’s seed must be found on her and there must be evidence of intercourse; non-censual and brutal intercourse. The rape kit will identify his DNA but a doctor will also examine Simone and state that she has been vaginally violated,” Sarina put a steadying hand on Michele’s knee.
“Simone has agreed to be, shall we say, violated, by you. She is in fact a little curious about what it would be like to have a lesbian experience with a lady who actually has a penis,” Sarina could not help giggling.
“Yes, that’s right. She wants to explore this sexual fantasy whilst at the same time getting revenge on Jamhal.”
“Really?” Michele was quite taken aback.
“You need to realise that Simone is, well she’s an Essex girl if you know what I mean. Although a virgin when taken she had been around the traps as they say. Jamhal found her giving handjobs in a London massage parlour of all places.”
Michele and Sarina both broke into fits of laughter.
“So I have to..................”
“Yes Michele, you get to use that appendage of yours for what it was intended,” Sarina smirked.
Sarina explained the remaining intricacies of the plan to Michele, who paid close attention.
Michele was required to service the Cabal later that afternoon but she made sure she didn’t orgasm during the prolonged sex party. She was horny and excited when she returned to her room and found Sarina waiting. Sarina’s crossed legs were clad in shimmering hose and one of her high-heels dangled from her delicate toes. She was wearing a navy blue business suit, lashings of makeup and her perfume wafted across the room. Michele’s penis stirred in her panties, tenting her skirt.
Sarina smiled at Michele’s obvious arousal.
“Good you will be well ready when the time comes; now get changed and let’s get this done.”
Michele douched Sadam’s semen from her rectum, showered, freshened her makeup and selected a black and red satin bustier fitted with satin suspender straps to which she clipped black, sheer, fully-fashioned stockings. She pulled on a pair of red nylon panties, slid on her black sling-back high-heels, sprayed herself with perfume and was ready.
Sarina led Michele down the corridor to one of the other rooms and used her passkey to open the door. Michele and Sarina entered and Sarina locked the door behind her.
Sitting on the bed was a voluptuous young girl maybe nineteen. She had pale skin and red hair, her face was perfectly made-up and her bright red lips looked plump and inviting. She was wearing a white satin dress, the hem just above her knee, the fabric tight around her pert breasts. Her legs were clad in sheer flesh-toned hose which glittered in the lamplight, her feet clad in white high-heel pumps. She looked almost virginal.
“Simone meet Michele; Michele, Simone,” Sarina made the introductions.
“We all know the plan so let’s not fuck around and get this show on the road. I’ve contacted Jamhal and he is on his way here now, he thinks you two are going to give him a special treat so make sure you play your parts.”
“So long as that dirty fucker doesn’t put his filthy cock in me I’m happy to go along, I want that vicious, violating bastard to get his!,” Simone spat in an Essex accent.
“Don’t worry Simone; Jamhal will soon be history,” Sarina said and slipped behind an expensive silk screen just as there was the sound of keys rattling in the door.
“Quick, let’s make this look good,” Simone squealed and pulled Michele to her.
Michele entered the miasma of perfume surrounding Simone and their lips met, lipstick smearing, and tongues intertwining. Michele’s cock sprang to attention as Simone held Michele in a tight embrace, their bodies rubbing against each other, the satin of Michele’s bustier rustled against the satin of Simone’s dress, the feeling was ecstatic to both.
Michele’s cock became fully engorged and Simone’s vagina moistened.
“Cor I’ve wondered what it would be like being with another girl but this is just so fucking horny,” Simone whimpered into Michele’s neck.
Michele eased Simone prone on the bed and fell on her; their sheer-nyloned legs entwined as their lips crushed against each other’s, their tongues exploring each other’s mouths. Michele dry humped the prone girl lying beneath her, her turgid penis straining against her sheer nylon panties.
“Don’t come yet honey; that would fuck up the plan,” Simone giggled into Michele’s panting mouth.
Michele watched as the expression on Simone’s face changed from lust to disgust. Jamhal had entered the room and was locking the door behind him.
“Ahh! The mukhannath shermuta and the little English puta with the foul mouth! What have we here; something the Cabal would not condone I’m sure!” Jamhal’s eyes gazed wickedly at the two sexily dressed women.
Jamhal strode over to the corner of the room, undid the sash around his waist that Michele knew to be a 'kamarband’ and threw it over the surveillance camera mounted in the corner of the room.
“We wouldn’t want anyone to spy on our little party would we my little veshyas!” Michele knew this was Hindi for whores.
“Sarina called and told me that you two were up to no good; and you, you crossdressed puta, I’ll find out how you got in here soon enough but first we have some business to take care of,” Jamhal began to shuck out of the traditional garments he was wearing.
“Don’t let him touch me please Michele,” Simone whispered in Michele’s ear.
Michele stood and strode over to Jamhal and put her arms around him. She slipped her tongue in his mouth reached down and gripped his thickening penis.
“Please Jamhal, let me service you; leave the little English rose alone,” Michele panted in his mouth as she slowly stroked his engorged member, rubbing the sensitive frenulum against her stockinged thighs.
“I’ll taste the rose soon enough but you may get me prepared,” Jamhal grunted and pushed down on Michele’s head.
Michele knew what the swarthy Indian wanted and dropped to her knees and took his throbbing phallus in her mouth. Having been a sex slave for nearly a year and a half Michele knew how to give perfect fellatio. She trilled her tongue along the coronal ridge of Jamhal’s glans and then slowly sucked the shaft, moving her lips all the way to the base of his penis and back until just the head was between her lips. She slavered at the glans of his member and felt if throb as she once more sucked on it.
“Oh you fucking whore; you know how to get me going. One more little suck from you and I’m going to fuck that little girl lying on the bed.”
“You remember how hard I fucked your tight English arse when I found you; saving your virginity so the Cabal could squabble over your maidenhead? Well once this mukhannath shermuta has me rock hard I’m going to fuck your tight pussy just as hard,” Jamhal taunted.
Simone sat on the bed transfixed as she watched the attractive transvestite suck the dark meat; her vagina was getting wetter. Even though she despised the Indian slave merchant, the sight of the seductively dressed tranny slurping on his cock was getting her aroused and ready for what was to come next.
Michele saw Sarina’s shadow appear behind Jamhal and when Sarina’s stockinged feet came into view she bit down on the base of Jamhal’s penis and reached up and squeezed his scrotum whilst twisting it at the same time; it gave her immense satisfaction when Jamhal screamed. His head flew back in pain and Sarina pounced and smothered his face with a chloroform soaked cloth until he fell to the floor.
Jamhal gradually came out of his daze and immediately became aware that he was trussed up tight and couldn’t move. He was tied to a brass pole directly across from the foot of Simone’s bed. His now flaccid penis still throbbed from the bite Michele had inflicted on it but it soon began become turgid once again..
Directly in front of him Michele was straddling Simone and humping away at her. Simone’s dress had ridden up to reveal sheer-to-the waist pantyhose and white satin panties; Michele’s cock encased in her own red nylon panties was rubbing all over Simone’s crotch and she was pushing her groin up to meet Michele’s thrusts.
“A beautiful sight isn’t it?” Sarina whispered in his ear, but he could not answer as he was gagged.
Jamhal couldn’t take his eyes off the sexy tranny and pretty maid rutting in front of him and his cock soon reached full tumescence.
“Good; that’s what we need,” Sarina grinned.
She ripped open a condom packet and rolled the rubber onto Jamhal’s erect member, stroking his shaft as she did so.
“Fuck me you bitch. Do me rough! Take me!” Simone groaned.
Michele was close to orgasm, the feel of her stockings against Simone’s slinky hose, the sensation of her panty-clad cock rubbing against Simone’s satin panty gusset was incredible. Both Michele’s and Simone’s panties were soaked with their respective juices.
Michele raised a spiked heel and dragged it down Simone’s dress tearing the fabric from crotch to hem. She did it again, grinding her cock into Simone’s panty-clad labia. Simone groaned and pushed back against the hard tranny-cock chafing at her soaked panties; the head of Michele’s penis pushing against the layers of knickers and pantyhose and nestled in her thick folds of her labia, rubbing on her clitoris and driving her wild.
“Oh fuck me you tranny whore!” Simone groaned.
Sarina continued to stroke Jamhal’s now pulsing penis; feeling it swell in her fingers as she worked away at his shaft.
Michele worked a long, red-nailpolished, manicured finger into the gusset of Simone’s pantyhose and tore a hole big enough to inset a finger. She gave Simone’s clitty a quick rub invoking a shudder from the small maiden lying beneath her.
Then she hooked a couple fingers into the hole and tore out the crotch of Simone’s pantyhose. She quickly released her hard cock from her own panties and pulled aside the gusset of Simone’s panties and slid her turgid cock deep inside the English rose.
“Oh God! Fuck me Michele,” Simone moaned.
Simone’s vagina was slick with lubricant but tight and Michele nearly came as her hard penis slid slowly in and out of the pretty girl wriggling beneath her. Their lips crashed together and their tongues entwined. Simone raised her legs and wrapped them around Michele’s waist; the feel of her silken hose was voluptuous and enticing. Simone crossed her ankles behind Michele’s back and pushed up to meet her thrusts, Simone’s tight sheath gripping Michele’s throbbing cock.
“Do me babe; do me fucking hard!” Simone screamed.
Michele jackhammered her cock in and out of the tight, slick cunt, deliberately being brutal. It was an awesome sensation but also serving a practical purpose as her hard phallus bruised Simone’s tight sheath and chafed her vaginal lips.
“I’m going to come honey; I can’t hold back!” Michele gasped.
“You know what to do babe,” Simone groaned as her own orgasm wracked her body.
Michele exploded deep inside the young woman and after allowing Michele to ejaculate a few times inside her, Simone forced Michele’s penis out of her so that Michele’s seed sprayed all over Simone’s crotch and the tops of her thighs. Thick ropes of semen congealed on her ripped panties and nylons.
Sarina furiously wanked away at Jamhal’s member until he couldn’t hold back and exploded; flooding the tip of the condom with hot semen.
Michele and Simone barely had time to recover because the next part of the plan was crucial to its success.
Sarina placed the chloroformed rag back over Jamhal’s face and once again he was comatose.
Michele tore at Simone’s dress, reducing it to tatters and then ripped her panties to shreds, leaving them flimsily clinging to her body.
“I’m sorry,” Michele said and then slapped Simone across the face brutally hard.
“Again!” Simone commanded and Michele slapped her again, raising red welts on her pretty face.
Sarina untied Jamhal and with Michele’s help dragged him over to the bed.
“I know this will be the worst part of my plan for you Simone but it’s essential,” Sarina apologised to the ravaged girl lying on the bed.
“Just do it! Get it over with!” Simone replied and gritted her teeth knowing what was coming next.
Sarina removed the kamarband from the surveillance camera and came back over to the bed.
Michele and Sarina positioned Jamhal between Simone’s thighs. Although comatose, from a distance it looked like Jamhal was fucking Simone; the illusion helped by Simone who writhed beneath him, her legs splayed as she pretended to fight him off. She raked her fingernails down his back and then reached out, scrambling away at the bedside table until her fingers settled on a large crystal ashtray which she lifted and smashed against the side of Jamhal’s head. She then pushed his dead weight off her and sat sobbing on the bed covered in semen, her clothing in tatters.
“Alright, enough!” Sarina ordered.
“Now for the most horrid bit for you I’m sorry Simone,” Sarina said.
She unrolled the condom off Jamhal’s semi-erect cock, carefully ensuring the contents did not leak. She dribbled the warm spend all over Simone’s thighs and labia and pushed some of the sticky fluid inside Simone’s vagina.
“They won’t be testing for Michele’s DNA just Jamhal’s but all that semen will look like he gave you a right fucking,” Sarina explained.
“Now leave the bastard on the floor for at least five minutes before you press the alarm; that will give Michele and I enough time to get to our rooms and for me to start editing the surveillance tape,” Sarina nodded to the camera positioned in one high corner of the ceiling.
Michele and Sarina both hurried back to their rooms. Michele showered and changed. Sarina logged into the security system and quickly bought up the video feed from Sarina’s cell. As the ‘Mistress of the Whores’, as the Cabal had named her, Sarina had many privileges and duties. She can open any of the cells, she has access to the security system and she can come and go as she pleases within the confines of the ‘Whores Palace’ as the Cabal refer to their stable of concubines.
Sarina brings up the digital video feed of Simone’s room and rewinds to the part where Jamhal throws his kamarband over the camera and then fast forwards to where she removes it from the camera. She edits the video, removing the parts whenever she and Michele and are in frame and then quickly replays the edited version.
On the screen in front of her you can distinctly see Jamhal stride into the room and throw his kamarband over the camera and then she him rutting away at Simone a few minutes later. Then you see Simone crashing the crystal ashtray into his head and him falling off her as she hits the alarm. The following images show Simone curled on the bed sobbing and Jamhal unconscious on the floor.
Sarina saves the file and then brings up the live feed from Simone’s cell. She grins when she sees Jamhal being dragged to his feet and taken away by two burly Arab men; the Canal’s trusted enforcers.
........................................................................................................
Almost a year later Michele sits in front of the mirror in her room at the Burj Khalifa hotel putting the final touches to her makeup. She admires her pert breasts, the surgery performed by the best plastic surgeon in Singapore who had also performed a tracheal shave, buttock augmentation and some facial feminisation. Michele scoffed when she was offered genital surgery as part of the package; she loved her cock far too much to remove it and besides Sarina would not have permitted it.
Michele is now completely passable as a woman but she remains a pre-operative transsexual, having no wish to fully change her gender although she had the funds and resources to do so if she pleased.
“Are you ready for me honey,” a voice calls through the open door to the adjoining room.
“Oh yes my love,” Michele stands awaiting her lover.
A voluptuous dark-skinned woman enters; her heels click-clacking on the tiles. She is tall, at least six feet, she wearing a black chiffon tight pencil skirt that emphasises her small waist and clings to her thighs, the hem rests about six inches above her knees. He legs are clad in dark shimmering hose, her feet in black patent-leather pumps. She is wearing a green satin blouse open to the third button and her large firm breasts are barely contained in the lace cups of her black satin brassier. Her jet-black hair has been straitened and hangs to her shoulders, her eye makeup and ruby red lipstick lips accentuate her blue eyes. Her gold jewellery glitters in the lamplight.
She is of course Sarina; dressed exactly as she had been when Michele first met her.
The two gorgeous women fall into each other’s arms and kiss and fondle each other passionately.
“Happy anniversary darling; is that for me?” Sarina giggles as she squeezes Michele's rampant phallus through her sheer nylon panties.
“Only if that’s for me,” Michele replies, squeezing the hard strap-on cock Sarina has mounted just above her pubis under her skirt.
An hour later they both lay on the bed, sated and spent, smoking cigarettes and drinking gin and tonics. Of course smoking is not allowed in the Burj Khalifa hotel but the management knows that the Cabal has paid for the suites and there will be no repercussions.
“I have to fly to London tomorrow,” Michele sighs.
“I have been conversing with this lovely but inexperienced transvestite from Middlesex. I’m meeting her at CandyGirls Nightclub,” Michele puffed her smoke.
“What about you?” she asked.
“Sydney Australia. Some blonde bimbo who fancies herself as a Kylie Minogue look-a-like but Saheed’s seen her picture and has the hots for her,” Sarina replies.
“Who would have thought hey? Not only did we get rid of that cunt Jamhal but they gave you his job!” Michele sniggered.
“And they let me use the white mukhannath shermuta as my trusted assistant,” Sarina chuckled.
“Yeah, poor old Jamhal; wonder whatever became of him,” Michele mused.
“Well wherever he is, he isn’t using that,” Sarina nodded to the jewelled encrusted glass display jar.
Inside the jar, suspended in a preserving fluid, was a shrivelled penis.
The End