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

16Apr15

desert5Part 1 can be found here.

The days past in a haze; just one beautiful desert vista after another. It did not take long before both of them to realise that any pretence that Megan was in search of a story had long since been forgotten. The Sheikh and her adventure had become nothing more than a vacation.

“I am so going to get fired,” Megan sighed as she lay on her back looking across the sand at the sunset.

A brilliant azure sky was on liquid fire, all draped with purple and red against the dying blue. Megan sighed. Here and there red melted into orange with yellow shadows to soften deep burgundy to mauve. The colours reminded her of the marking on her bottom and she blushed. She had squirmed and twisted for long minutes trying to examine her war wounds in a compact mirror after the spanking and even days later she still winced when she sat down.

Next to her Ahmed was breathing softly and she could feel his powerful presence through the short gap that separated where they most definitely didn’t actually touch.

“What was that?” he rumbled contentedly, one arm stretching bear-like as if he had rested too long on the cooling sand.

They had made camp for the night at yet another ruin under some low hills. There was no pool this time but the presence of some trees revealed that water was not very far away. There was even an old rusty pump jutting out of the sand like a dead tree where they had got their water.

Not far away the fire was already lit and huge flames danced high enough to lick the sky. In a few minutes once night had fallen the two mismatched companions would be sitting in a pool of yellow light in a sea of black.

Megan cast a glance sideways and let her eyes drink in the powerful bulges of the cotton-clad prince as the flickering danced over him and his broad chest and heavy set arms.

“I said when I get home I am going to be fired,” she repeated distractedly, “I mean…”

“Shut up woman,” Ahmed dismissed her fears with a firm amused tone, “I will get an advanced press release or something or other from the ministry. That and an exclusive interview with the Minister himself will give you a story.”

“So what has all this been for?” she giggled matching his mood. But as she leaned towards him she felt a pang in her bottom and made a face. One might think she had suffered for nothing, but right then she didn’t want to be anywhere else in the world.

Ahmed grinned and made an expansive gestured to the sky. “Call it a bit of background colour,” he chuckled.

Megan thought of her punishments and the intimate colours that had accompanied it and made a rueful face. If she had the balls she could write quite a salacious exposé, she might even get a Pulitzer for it, but it would be too embarrassing and no doubt whatever amusing spin she tried to put on it would make Ahmed and his country look bad.

“I think I’ll just call it a pain in the ass and put it down to experience,” Megan said with a pout.

“Are you giving me some attitude young lady?” he said in a mock-serious tone. “Besides, in my country an ass is a donkey. I went to school in England where a gentleman says arse.”

Megan snorted and made a face. “Arse,” she said in an exaggerated accent emphasising the ‘ar’ sound. “I am sure you were bit of an arse,” she giggled at her own joke.

“Young lady, you are giving me attitude,” he said pompously and folded his arms, “Perhaps what you need is another spanking.”

A look pasted between them and then she saw he might not be joking. “You wouldn’t,” she said in faux horror.

Ahmed stood up and she backed away while still sitting while he slowly followed. Then with a shriek she rolled and clambered to her feet and made to scramble away. He caught her easily and pulled to him in a half hug while he swatted her behind finally opting to bend her double so that she was standing bent over with her bottom uppermost.

“Get off you beast,” she shrieked.

But Ahmed firmly swatted her backside with several sharp taps while she squealed. A moment later he hauled her upright and she crashed into his chest. Megan swallowed and she could feel her pulse surge.

“Oh God,” she whispered and tucked her head into him.

A head shorter than her, he hooked his hand under her chin and lifted her head so that their eyes met. Their silent conversation was brief and tinged with both hope and sadness. Then he kissed her and she kissed him back until they were violently clinging and she felt like ivy on a mighty oak.

The kiss lasted for as long as it took for the last of the sun to slide under the curve of the Earth and then she gently broke contact.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

“I’m not,” he answered taking her hand.

Above them a million-billion eyes were watching, two lovers in a pool of light under an ocean of stars.

*

They day was not fully upon them and yet it was hot. Megan had had a restless night and as Ahmed had yet to arise, she guessed he had too. The kiss had promised so much but they both knew it was not to be.

Megan cast an eye around the shredded stones of the ruins. It was impossible to tell what had once stood here and they weren’t a patch on the others she had seen. But where the desert curved gently away to the lowlands the view was magnificent. Her only regret was that there was no pool.

Then she spied the pump and grinned. Ahmed was asleep and even if he did wake… well so what if he got an eyeful? So still smirking she shucked off her shirt and pants to make a dash for it across the quickly roasting sand. By the time she got to the old pipe she had shed her bra and panties too and was now naked and glowing under the old faucet.

The pump stood seven or eight feet high with a wheel about halfway up and to the back. It turned easily and after a fitful start water stuttered in huge droplets onto the sand. Then in a moment the oily red liquid became a cascade until pure silver water streamed onto the iron grate at her feet like a waterfall.

Naked now Megan stepped under the icy shrill of water and gasped. A thousand needles of desert wine tingled her sun-bronze flesh leaving her slick and glistening as she rocked and wheeled under the flow.

As she bathed she bent over to jut her bottom into the shower stream or she would swivel around to offer her breasts. All the while she giggled carelessly.

She didn’t see the prince who had been roused by her frolicking. He stood now at the tumble of stones where he had slept away from the fire: away from her. The sight of her naked was more than he could stand and his member stiffened and then pulsed within his clothes. The tightness clawing at his belly was unbearable and he had to avert his eyes.

Megan saw the motion from the corner of her eyes and flushed as she turned to confront the man. Shy hands covered her sex, but as he looked back uncertainly she parted her fingers like a gate and did pirouettes to afford an unrestricted view of her body. She even flicked a cheeky nipple enticingly.

“Hey, why don’t you join me?” Megan challenged him.

She meant the offer platonically, or so she thought. After all if he hadn’t taken her last night then he never would. Besides the day was growing hot and they only had one impromptu shower and it wasn’t as if he hadn’t seen something of her body before.

But Ahmed looked horrified.

“What are you doing?” he yelled and then spying her shirt on the ground he seized it and made a dash forward. “Cover yourself woman,” he raged.

Megan was confused and while he spun the wheel to turn off the flow she hastily dragged on the shirt, tugging at the short hem in a forlorn attempt at further coverage. He was right she had acted like a whore and she blushed furiously.

“I see the magistrate was right about you,” he growled, “I think we have matters to attend to.”

Ahmed seized her and easily threw her across one shoulder. Then ignoring her wet naked bottom that thrust up like two temple domes close to his ear he strode purposefully towards the shade of the broken wall.

“What the hell?” she screamed, “Put me down.”

“Oh I will,” he promised and slapped at her behind.

“Oh no, come on you can’t,” she wailed.

“Oh yes I can, and we both just know you have this coming,” he said archly as he sat down heavily on a large flat stone and hauled across his lap.

His hand stung her hard and fast, in his rage spanking her as if he might save the world.

“You little temptress,” he bellowed, furious at his own restraint in the face of such frustration.

Well if he couldn’t have her he would spank as she deserved. His hand blasted down as if to make his point. She get a spanking like no other, one that she would remember until the end of time.

“Ahmed please,” she squealed, but she sounded strained and girlishly important under the onslaught of the spanking.

“Don’t you Ahmed me please,” he snarled spanking her faster.

He reasoned that if he spanked her long enough he would address his oath and never see her again. Damn he would never forget her but after today she would ever remember him.

“Ahmed, Ahmed, Sir… oooh,” her cries quickly descended into angry wails and then miserable surrendered ones.

The prince could see that her bare bottom was as red as he had seen it and here and there it had collected some darker blotches. But he wasn’t done yet and in his anger he decided to teach her more firmly.

“Get your nose in that corner,” he barked as he brought the first part of her correction to a pause. “I want your hands on your head and if you move an inch…”

Megan was sniff-hiccoughing back sobs as she scurried to obey. She nodded though and as her hands touched her head she made herself small in the corner.

Ahmed nodded in satisfaction and adjusted himself. If he couldn’t have her one way then he would settle for another.

“You have a hairbrush among your belongings?” he said casually.

She was breathing heavily and her eyes came out on stalks in the shadow of the wall.

“Well,” he barked.

She nodded.

“May I fetch it?” he asked.

She knew darn well that he would only have her do it if she refused so she nodded again, this time visibly gulping.

It didn’t take him long to find, although he was in no hurry to apply it.

“You know what you did don’t you?” he said gently, addressing her bare bottom.

She sniffed and thought about her crude dance in the shower. She had been teasing him out of revenge and all because his own sense of honour did not allow him to use her as she wanted him to. As, she now realised, he wanted to.

Ahmed could smell her sex even from where he sat and it was obvious he wasn’t the only one stimulated by the spanking.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, “I…”

“I am so going to spank you again,” he sighed, “And this time, if you can sit down again before you leave my country it will be a miracle of the ages.”

“Ooh,” she groaned.

Ahmed paused for long effect and then firmly took her arm.

“Ahmed, Ahmed,” she wailed, her breathing close to frantic as he draped her again firmly across his knee.

“Now for the main event,” he said sharply and the soundest spanking Megan had yet had begun in earnest.

Fifteen minutes or more would pass before he let her up and then he set her again in the corner for a good long cry until the sun moved around to banish the shade. They would go nowhere that day or next while Megan lay belly down in her misery as her bottom throbbed under a series of cold wet flannels until nightfall.

To be continued



2 Responses to “The Sheikh and the Discipline of the Desert (part v)”

  1. 1 Tine

    Wohoo another hot chapter been waiting for that one – thank you 🙂

  2. I love this one. (Well, all of them, really). You have endless stories in you. Thank you for telling them to us.


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