The Sheikh and the Discipline of the Desert (part IV)

20Mar15

desert caningPart 1 can be found here.

The Landrover hit a bump and the whole vehicle lurched sideways as it gripped the desert road.

“Ah,” Megan groaned as she jerked back to make contact with the seat for a moment. Her expression when she eased herself back onto her knees was a pained one.

“I told you should have knelt up facing backwards,” Ahmed chuckled.

Megan gave him a daggered look and made a pout with her lips. There was no way she would have left the police station and driven through the town in such an undignified posture and she wasn’t much in the mood to give Ahmed the satisfaction now.

“I’m alright,” she said sullenly, giving even more emphasis to her pout.

“Sure you are,” Ahmed chuckled again, “No one would even suspect that you were a woman who wasn’t going to sit down for a week.”

Megan blushed and dipped her head. It was true and there was no point hiding it.

“Make that a month,” she said ruefully, finally finding a smile.

He laughed.

Megan cast her eyes to take in the desert night and gasped at the million-billion stars. In other circumstances…

“I’m sorry,” she said at last.

His face became serious and he shrugged. He knew she had had a hard time for a western woman or any girl for that matter, but he had told her the rules on that first day and she had been warned. It was hardly his fault if he hadn’t been able to explain every possible way in which she could have run into trouble. That was why he had told her not to wander off.

Furthermore he had given her a choice of leaving or taking her punishment. She had chosen the latter, so be it. His heart fluttered and he supressed a smile at this. Apart from the unfamiliar unsettled feeling in his stomach he was glad.

“Why exactly are you sorry?” he asked without looking at her.

The road ahead was dark and winding. Below the stars he could see only grey on grey amid a world of black. The Landrover lurched again and Megan gave another little squeak.

“Did you hear what I said?” His voice was sharp and authoritative. It made her a little scared.

“Yes I… I was thinking,” she said quickly.

He glanced sideways at her with a frown. Not that she could see it in the dark, but his body language was a shout of impatience. Megan’s buttocks clenched.

“I know I caused you a lot of trouble,” she said quietly, “I think you went out on a limb to get me out of that mess didn’t you?”

Ahmed shrugged and pretended to only interested in the road ahead.

“I mean I don’t know why a silly mistake like that would cause all that…” she started indignantly. But then she paused. “Sorry,” she added quickly, “I know you warned me. I just forgot…” then she sighed, “No I didn’t, I… I’m just used to getting my own way I guess.”

“Then it is just as well that there can be nothing between us because I too am used to getting my own way,” he said sharply, his fists gripping the steering wheel hard. Then he added, “And I usually get it.”

The confidence arrogance of his statement might once have appalled her, but he was only saying what she had believed of herself. Now it thrilled her somehow, but not so much because of that. ‘Something between us,’ he had said it. Everything else receded now, it tumbled into the void or was outshone by his light… she babbled in her head for a moment before becoming embarrassed at her unexpressed romantic tosh.

“What do you mean?” she whispered.

“I am a prince and I don’t think you understand…” he sounded a little pompous and she almost laughed. God she loved him.

That thought startled her. Was that true? Her heart raced as if she were falling and she grabbed at the interior door handle to steady herself.

“Not that,” she said lightly, “You said there might be something between us?”

His jaw clamped shut and his mouth became a defiant line.

“In London or LA perhaps,” he sighed, “Or even here if I didn’t… for a while anyway. But the magistrate and those… men like my grandfather… to them you are… you would be if I… if we…” He stopped the car with a jolt and turned to face.

“I understand,” she said.

Her hand reached out then and gently touched his face. It was a forbidden act she knew. Under his law he could have her soundly whipped and perhaps worse. She didn’t regret it.

Ahmed closed his eyes as if picturing another world and then gently took her fingers and caressed them. Then leaning forward his eyes hard and open he kissed her on the mouth.

The embrace lasted an age.

*

Neither had spoken for an hour. There was nothing to say. Ahmed knew that what once might have been a harmless dalliance for him was forever beyond his reach. If his grandfather even suspected that he had feelings for her then she might even be in danger. He was even beginning to think that their small adventure together might be a mistake.

He told himself that he had promised that he would see to her punishment and anyway duty demanded . He had given his word to the magistrate and Megan herself that he would give her lashes. Now 988 remained and he would give her them all. He grinned until beside him in the Landrover she noticed and gave him a puzzled frown.

A sound spanking might consist of 200 or more spanks if given at speed over a few minutes. It might be fun to give her three or four spankings across his knee in the coming days. It was no more than she would get regularly if she was to become his wife.

He slapped at the wheel between his hands in frustration. Where had that thought come from? It was impossible.

“What’s wrong?” Megan asked him.

He shook his head and forced a smile.

“It is nothing,” he said dismissively.

In a pig’s ear, she thought irritably, why couldn’t he just tell her?

“I have something to show you,” he said to change the subject.

Megan who had been lost in thoughts of her own until his angry gesture found an odd hope in the statement. She was about to ask what he meant when the vehicle slowed.

“There,” Ahmed said nodding forward.

The moon was low and was as big as a house where it hovered above the horizon. It burned red like the desert sands by day and Megan gaped. The great round Luna disc framed an ancient building that rose from the sand like the fingers of God reaching to catch it.

She could see at once that it was a roofless ruin of some Greek or Roman temple sandblasted by the ages.

“Oh my god,” Megan gasped.

“They say it was built by Alexander the Great,” Ahmed said proudly. “Beyond it is an oasis with silver blue water bordered by palms.”

*

The fire crackled, sending tongues of red-yellow flames to lick the sky. Ahmed had insisted on setting a blaze before they turned in so that he could heat some water for tea and a little tinned soup.

“Can’t I just look around the temple before we go to bed?” Megan said excitedly.

Ahmed glared at her.

“Do you never learn?” he growled, “there will be time enough tomorrow, but for now you will get some sleep.”

“But…” she protested.

Ahmed cocked one eyebrow, his face picked out by the firelight and ghostly. For a moment it gave him a terrifying aspect.

“Sit down and eat,” he barked.

Megan fell back, but as her tender tail touched the hard ground she winced. The heat in her bottom switched to her face and embarrassed and without meeting his eyes she shifted her weight onto her knees. When she finally braved a glance at the prince he was holding a heated bowl of soup to her. She made to speak again but he silenced her with his eyes and she took the bowl with a sullen glower.

They sat in silence for a while and then she caught him looking at her. There was an unmistakable amusement in his eyes and she fixed her attention on her dwindling soup for a full minute before her face cracked.

“What’s so funny?” she asked.

“Oh I was wondering how often you need to be spanked before you learn,” he chuckled.

She supressed a giggled and shot her tongue out at him. This time he laughed.

“It has been a long day and the night is half gone,” he said, still smiling, “So it’s bedtime.”

Being sent to bed gave her an odd thrill but she hid it from him with a pout.

“Bed,” he pressed her with mock severity.

Yes Sir, she thought and moved to obey him.

*

The temple was a magical place. Megan could indeed believe that once Alexander himself trod its floors and gazed upon its wall. Later empires too had left their mark and faded exotic patterns decorated many of the surviving stones.

But best of all was the cool shade that sheltered them even in the heat of the day as they strolled through the ruins. Here and there were portals and marble windows through which they could glimpse the golden desert beyond before a twist in the time worn stone led down another byway into the labyrinth of walls.

Better yet was the oasis. Unlike the previous pond she had seen this one was straight out of an old Valentino movie with high dense green palms shading a clear blue pool bordered by glistening rocks. It was glorious to have unfettered access to water and as she swam she felt all the aches and stings of her recent misadventures flow away.

“I have made dinner,” Ahmed called to her when at last the sun had turned to red fire in the eastern sky.

Megan screwed up her face at the thought of yet more canned fare and slunk deeper into the water. She was naked now, having slipped free of her costume as soon as he had returned to their camp.

As if reading her mind he cast a thumb at the sunset and said, “It will soon be too cold to swim and with it our supper. It will get cold I mean.”

“We can always reheat a can,” she said with a show or reluctance.

For form’s sake she wrapped her arms across her breasts, but she knew he wouldn’t look however much she wished he would. Not that he hadn’t seen her at least partially naked before. Her spankings, never far from her mind danced to front of her thoughts.

“Oh tonight we can do better than tinned food,” he said enigmatically, “Now come out of there and get dressed,” he ordered.

Dinner was two small birds cooked on a spit while Ahmed made a brown spicy sauce in a small pan. There was also rice cooked with pieces of fruit and some fresh vegetables and unleaded bread.

“Make the most of it, the cooler couldn’t accommodate anymore and tomorrow we are back to tinned food,” he said with a grin.

Megan grinned back. It was certainly the best she had eaten since coming to his country.

“Quite the cook aren’t you?” she said with a wink.

“The army teaches you many things,” he shrugged.

They talked then for an hour or two, until the moon was well up and the low night breeze was singing over the sands.

“Time to turn in,” he said at last, “Tomorrow there is something I must attend to and for that we will both need our sleep.”

Megan frowned as if trying to remember something and then she did.

“You um… you don’t mean…?” she muttered.

“You’ll find out,” he replied in a serious tone, “Now no more talk.”

*

“How are your marks?” Ahmed asked Megan after breakfast.

The sun was fully up and the heat was already fast approaching baking.

“Are we staying here another day or do you want to move on?” Megan asked, avoiding his question.

All the same her hands had strayed to her bottom. There was some faint residual ache and as far as she could tell using only a compact mirror there were only a few yellowing stripes extant on her posterior.

“I noticed you sat well enough for your meal,” the prince pressed her.

Megan blushed and made a pout.

“I wouldn’t mind staying another day. I am not sure we saw all the ruins yesterday and the pool is something else. Did you say that…” she continued her prevarication until he cut her off.

“I promised to continue your correction and I can see now that it is overdue,” Ahmed said sharply.

“Come on, don’t you think I learned my lesson?” she said in a somewhat whiney voice. It wasn’t the tone she had been going for. “I said I was sorry.”

“I believe you,” he said in a voice heavy with true regret, “But I gave my word of honour to the magistrate.”

“But it’s a thousand lashes, I couldn’t possibly… please Ahmed,” she wailed, frantically looking around suddenly wondering if she might flee.

“I never promised to use a cane or whip,” Ahmed said in a voice like steel, “I think a good sound spanking will suffice and take us a good way through to that number.”

“You’re kidding,” Megan gasped and clutched at her tail.

“I am not kidding, as you put it,” Ahmed growled, “I am sure any half decent spanking could account for half of that number over several minutes. It is no more than a girl can handle.”

“Look if you think… I mean just because… A-Ahmed…” as broken nervous words tumbled from her mouth she slowly backed away from him.

The desert prince took a positive step forward and caught the hapless journalist easily as he pitched her headlong over one shoulder. She weighed nothing as he carried her into the shade of the nearest temple wall and even her feeble struggled could not trouble him.

As he lowered the woman to his lap he resolved not to count the slaps too closely as he spanked her. He was letting her off lightly and so long as the spirit of his honour was satisfied an exact count would have been undignified as well as tedious.

He fixed on an average assumed spank-rate of 50 per minute and resolved to give her 10 minutes worth. But first he had to bare her bottom, after all it was only just.

“N-nooo please,” Megan protested as she tried to hang on to her safari pants, but it was a futile task.

In a trice he had dragged down her pants and panties and now sat staring at the firm dome of her tight lightly bruised bottom.

“I have to confess that although honour demands it this is no chore,” he chuckled and brought his hand down for the first spank.

“Ahh,” Megan hissed and made a grimace with her face.

She was still tender there but the embarrassment was worse.

“This is so… so undignified,” she blurted in a pained voice.

But the coming pain was even more of a trial. True to his promise Ahmed belaboured her with a strong steady arm for spank after spank. Her bottom quickly became dark pink and then full red as she bucked and gasped across his knee.

“Okay, alright, I’m… I’m s-sorry,” she wailed.

This after only five minutes when the sting was already beyond something she could laugh off. But amid it all she thought how very much worse a cane or whip would have been if carried to this extent and despite her caterwauling she was truly sorry.

“I will make sure of that,” Ahmed barked at her as he let his arm swing in hard and fast.

“Oooh,” Megan shrieked, “This is… this is… oh ahhhh…”

So long as he kept his promise to the magistrate Ahmed saw no harm in spanking her a little more on his own account besides the beauteous woman looked all the more beautiful with a scarlet sheen on her nether curves.

“You are enjoying this you bastard,” Megan blurted painful the first true tear rolling down the side of her nose.

“Bastard is it?” Ahmed growled, “You Americans are so free with your insults.”

Megan squealed as the prince’s hand stung her with some bite and she began babbling her apologies.

To be continued



17 Responses to “The Sheikh and the Discipline of the Desert (part IV)”

  1. 1 Pixie

    Perfect reading for a friday night. Love it, love it – cant wait for the next chapter!

  2. Looking forward to more of this story!

  3. 5 Ansh

    You’re back with a bang, then. Loved this one.

    • 6 DJ

      a bang and then a whimper – sickness and more builders I am afraid 😦

  4. 7 George

    Thanks for the new chapter.

  5. 9 amaranth

    I really like this story – thank you : )

  6. Great story. Hoping for a happy ending eventually.

  7. 13 Mary

    please, please write more. you are so good

    • 14 DJ

      Thank you Mary – there will be more and other stories – soon I hope 🙂

  8. 15 mary

    Please please, I’m begging you, write more

  9. Love Love Love this story!
    Peace and Love


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