The Sheikh and the Discipline of the Desert (Part II)

12Feb15

e2809c-desert-storm-e2809c-by-kesler-tran-63Part 1 can be found here.

The night had been awkward at first. There had been no conversation and sleeping on her tummy had only served to remind her of what had passed between them. At several points she had decided it hadn’t happened, telling herself that what went on in the desert stayed in the desert, but no sooner had she ‘forgotten’ then one casual attempt at sitting had sent her upright with a pained groan. Damn that man could spank.

Consequently the morning’s confrontation with the ride onwards was very much to the forefront of her mind.

Megan viewed the camel’s saddle with horror. It was bad enough that at every opportunity and when she thought Ahmed wasn’t watching, she had to grab at her ass for a thoroughly good massage, God alone knew what faces she was making as she did so.

“There is some open ground away from the dunes,” Ahmed said cheerfully as if nothing had happened between them. “The land rises slowly and the view from the lower foothills is fantastic,” he continued.

Megan shot him a sullen look and glowered. It was hard to stay mad at him, but her self-respect would allow no other course.

“I’m not speaking to you,” she said grumpily.

He snorted derisively and tried to hide a smile. He had been afraid of that, but now he saw that he had had no real cause. Obviously her attitude now was a childish front. But it might take a few hours for her to get over herself.

Megan made a figurative stamp with her foot in frustration. Damn the man for being amused. He was so God damned pleased with himself. Stronger words for him touched her mind, but somehow and without noticing, she supressed them.

If only she could manage to sit on the camel’s back then she could shrug off the incident as a spat or a bit of horseplay. The damn animal was obliging enough, having dropped to a crouch on its belly while it patiently chewed.

As she stepped over the discomfort flared in her hind parts and even taking most of the weight on her knees was hell on her behind. This is going to be a long day, she thought with yet another wince.

Ahmed ducked his head in silent laughter. Her posture was hard to miss and he was quiet sure now that there was no way she was going on anymore lone adventures.

*

The open desert was a joy. Back home sand was sand. It came in white through yellow and all of it was, well sand-coloured. But here, she looked around again as if not quite believing what she was seeing… the sand was every colour one could imagine. There were even cool blues giving way to purple where high shadow fell and Megan had never seen so many shades of red.

As if reading her mind Ahmed said, “The rich tones tend to bleach way once the sun is truly up, and that won’t be long now. But at this time of day…” he sighed, “Are you glad you came?”

“Yes,” she sighed back, her contentment palpable as she truly forgot all else.

It occurred to her that she was an explorer on a moonscape. There was certainly no sign of any other human passing. From here the world looked like a set from Star Trek and twice as surreal.

Then she caught his gaze and blushed. Damn the man, who would have thought it. He has definitely boldly been where no man has been before… Then she broke into laughter. Hell, she had asked for an adventure and she had found one.

“Ha,” he yelled, half in laughter and half to spur on his mount.

As her mount followed him she felt the lurch in her bottom and made another wince. This too drew another laugh from him, but this time she crinkled up her nose and after a dismissively wave in mock annoyance she joined in.

By the time the sun shared its heat they were on the rise above the expanse of land and chatting like old friends.

*

“Do you have a wife?” she asked conversationally.

“Not as yet,” he replied waving away the question. He was unused to discussing such things with anyone, let alone a woman.

“But you have had a few girlfriends?” she pressed him, “Anyone special?”

“In London, you know, just fun,” he shrugged. “My grandfather would call such women whores, but he doesn’t understand the west. They were having fun, I was having fun, so where was the harm?” he said dismissively. “But here…” he shrugged, “It is not done. Not with good women, and I have no taste for the other kind, there is no honour in it.”

Megan narrowed her eyes and adopted her thinking pout. The desert was hot now and she could well do with a bath. But she wasn’t ready for such distractions. The camels were rolling along the stony ground and she could well see why some called them ships. The slight discomfort was distraction enough.

“What about western women, you know, guests of your country? Are they not the same as they were back in London? Surely…” Megan asked lightly, not meeting his gaze.

Ahmed allowed himself a small smile and let his eyes rest everywhere but on her.

“There are few women of your standing here and most do not stay long. As things are my grandfather and the men like them can…” he shrugged, before continuing, “…accept that you are honorary men to a point…” he pushed out his lower lip as if he didn’t quite believe what he was saying, “But there are… limits. If I were to take up with a western woman her position would become untenable.”

Megan sucked in her lower lip in a façade of coyness and narrowed her eyes mischievously.

“But only if they find out,” she said innocently.

Ahmed stopped his camel in its tracks next to Megan’s and half turned to lean in close to her.

“If you are not very careful about what you say I am going to spank you again,” he whispered with a small hint of iron in his tone.

Megan blushed furiously and averted her eyes. “I dare you,” she said boldly in the spirit of amused bravado.

*

Megan was pinned helplessly across Ahmed’s crossed legs as he squatting by the side of the track. Her pants were already at her ankles and this time the desert prince wasted no time in addressing himself to her panties.

“Oh come on, I was kidding,” she gasped, wide-eyed now that her underwear suddenly joined her pants. “You can’t…” but her protests ended in a shriek as Ahmed’s hand slapped down hard on her bared bottom.

“Someone will come by,” she squealed as she squirmed under a rapid onslaught.

Ahmed paused and cast his gaze about and then shook his head in disbelief.

“Out here I will not be challenged,” he growled, “Not even in jest,” and the spanking continued.

“Please Ahmed, I’m sorry,” she wailed.

But the man had no regard for her mewling and set about giving her the spanking she truly deserved.

“Is this what you wanted?” he asked as he continued his blazing justice.

“Nooo, please, I was just…” Megan howled.

God, she thought, this spanking makes the other look like practice; me and my big mouth.

Ahmed spanked her until her bare bottom was dark red a slightly swollen. Even then he only stopped because the exertion had become a challenge in the desert heat. He knew now why his grandfather favoured a quirt.

Megan laid still now, only the broken gasps of her breathing registering any movement in her. Her arms had found his thighs and had become entwined as she hugged into him without rancour.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered at last.

“You were teasing me with what I cannot have?” he said in a voice edged in sadness.

“I’m sorry,” she sniffed, tears now not very far away.

“Next time I will use my grandfather’s quirt,” he told her sharply.

“Next time I will let you,” she agreed.

Ahmed took her head lifted it back so that her face was close to his.

“In London or New York maybe we could have explored each other for a while, but out here I am a prince and you will allow me nothing as I will do as I must. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” she squeaked and pulled a meek face back at him that hinted at mockery.

Admiring her spirit he laughed and allowed her to stand.

This time she hastily repaired her clothing and unashamedly grabbed at her sore bottom.

“We will press on when you are ready,” he said.

She nodded and wiped away a small tear as she smiled.

“But please Sir,” she said ruefully, “May I walk for a while?” As she spoke she was eyeing the camel’s saddle with dread.

He followed her gaze and then grinned. “For a while,” he laughed, “After that I will place you face down if I must.”

Megan gaped at the very idea, but somehow she knew he wasn’t joking.

To be continued



7 Responses to “The Sheikh and the Discipline of the Desert (Part II)”

  1. Really enjoyed the story.

  2. I should have responded to the first one. This is a very intriguing story. love the setting and the opposite pull of 2 different cultures.
    Thanks
    GentBB

  3. 3 DJ

    Thanks guys – I have to say though that despite my best efforts this is a rather traditional Hollywood-ised version of a Sheikh. I wouldn’t claim any special knowledge of the culture.

  4. I love this story, traditional or not!
    Thanks!

  5. 5 SirSpanksALot

    Hoping for more of this. They are an intriguing combination.

  6. Very interesting new setting and characters! Keep going…

  7. 7 DJ

    Thanks More soon 😉


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