Part 1 can be found here.

The road cut through the desert like a causeway bridging a restless sea. Neither of them had spoken for a while and Megan sensed a change. But even the modern city up ahead came as a shock, even to Ahmed, who must have known it was there for he slowed the car to a stop and pulled over.

“And so we come full circle,” he sighed, his voice heavy with regret.

Megan felt an odd nausea in her stomach and tears gathered in a thick pool in her eyes. She had to suck air in through her nose several times to prevent them spilling heedlessly down her face. The desert to the right and left beckoned and she longed for it.

“It is a harsh mistress and yet somehow one can come to desire it,” Ahmed said in a whisper.

“It certainly mastered me… or at least you did,” she answered.

“You will miss it?” he said in some surprise.

“I… I will miss you,” she sighed.

“Not the discipline though,” he chuckled.

“Even that I think,” she said ruefully. “Speaking of which…” she coughed. “Your promise to the magistrate… one thousand eh… strokes have I… did we…?”

“Near enough,” he shrugged, “Your correction the other day… must have accounted for near half of it by the time I was through with you.”

“But that wasn’t part of it,” she blurted, “I mean you said… and I deserved it,” she added in a determined voice. “I must have seemed a bit of a slut to you… sorry.”

The gabbled words hid her true feelings and she blushed.

“Let’s agree then that it was half and half,” he said dismissively and made an open handed gesture with his hands that seemed to say ‘what will be, will be.’ “Besides, despite my anger, I value you gift more than you can know.”

She blushed as she remembered her naked dance for him under the shower. It couldn’t end like this, it just couldn’t, not when there were straws to be seized.

“But then the terms of your oath is not yet fully met,” she said anxiously.

It wasn’t that she wanted another punishment, or that she thought it fair exactly, but she knew he prized his honour and she would hate it if he always thought of her as a blight upon it. Besides, she thought, anything that delays me going home…

“There is a place…” he said thoughtfully, “I had considered one last stop before the city anyway, maybe we could camp there to discuss it?”

“Yes let’s,” she grinned.

*

Megan had expected another ruin or at least a high vista, but instead she got Hakim Wadi. Not a big place, but it had a hotel and a row of dingy shops behind a large truck park where goods drivers made a first or last stop out of the city.

“You said we could camp?” Megan said when she saw how many people frequented the two or three streets of town.

“We will,” Ahmed laughed, “The hotel…” he made a rocking motion with his hand, “It is not good.”

“So…?” Megan gestured to the dump he had brought her too.

“The Bedouin and others camp beyond the lorry station, there are many dunes and we can be discreet there,” Ahmed explained.

As he did so the vehicle swung off the road and lurched up a track towards some high sand hills topped with grass. But Megan eyed them nervously, the place was a veritable metropolis compared with the open desert and she had grave doubts about its so-called discretion.

“Can’t we just…?” she asked, her voice sounding slightly pleading.

“No,” he said firmly and swung the car up yet another track.

They finally stopped in a wide space between two great dunes almost a mile from the town and Ahmed immediately set about making a small fire. Although it was still daylight and the wind was low, he also put up a line of canvass on the open side of the hollow. That and the vehicle made a kind of enclosure as added privacy should someone come by from one of the many other camps.

“So young lady,” Ahmed chuckled, “You need one last punishment do you?”

Megan gaped at him. She knew that had been the pretext for the delay but she hadn’t imagined that he would really do it or be so blunt about it.

“Come on…” she said in a hasty breathy voice, “I mean maybe you have given me enough, you said…”

She was blushing furiously. They had long since passed the point where a spanking from him was a surreal event. If he thought she needed a spanking, then he would spank her and that was how it was. There were no more western niceties about it. But what she had learned about herself was that she was a bit of a coward about punishment.

Ahmed seemed to glare at her disapprovingly and his eyes narrowed.

“Are you going to whip me?” she asked quietly, wondering if he would make it memorable as it was the last time.

She tried to figure how many of the original thousand strokes she still had coming. The first two punishments had accounted for more than half of them, she knew that. But did any of the last two spankings count at all? She gulped. Well it was his decision and she would get no more choices on the matter.

“I am guessing you have two or three hundred more strokes to come and I had thought to use my belt, but…” he knew that by the lights of his grandfather he had been neglectful of his honour and barely paid lip service to his duty in this regard.

Megan drew herself up and took a deep breath. “I will accept whatever you decide,” she said bravely.

“A warm up first and then we will finish with some real bite.” He announced his decision in a firm voice that set her tummy tingling. Then he said, “I want you naked for this.”

Megan sighed and clutched at her throat. The still hot afternoon air held her like aspic.

“You mean to be cruel then?” she said and the thought thrilled her strangely, but his next statement thrilled her more.

“I want to see you naked one last time because it pleases me,” he answered.

Megan bowed her head and began with the buttons of her shirt. Halfway through she turned around to let it, and her bra fall to the ground. Then kicking off her desert boots she shucked down her pants until she stood with her back to him in just her panties. After a pause these too were slid down her legs affording him a clear view of her bare bottom.

He noted some brown and yellow buds over both cheeks; evidence of her previous spanking. With what he intended he realised that she would not sit easily on the plane home, but he shrugged as he snorted in amusement.

Then as he watched her, she suddenly straightened and with slow deliberation turned to face him proudly. Her breast jutted out to him and her strong dark bush pointed like an arrow to the floor. Ahmed sucked in a sharp breath and lightly moaned.

Megan met his eyes and let them smile teasingly even as her mouth pouted in mock disdain. It was a challenge for him to do his worse; she owed him and herself that much.

Ahmed nodded and his hands went to his broad leather belt and uncoupled it. But first he would use his hand.

He acted fast. Like a hungry man, in one stride he seized his prey by the arm and dropped to a cross-legged stance on the blanket. Then hauling Megan fiercely across his lap he swatted her once drawing a sigh.

“Your bottom will burn this night, I swear it,” he said in a razor voice and spanked her again.

The spanking stung beyond tingles, but for a while she moaned and squirmed as her bottom burned in a way that was not unpleasant. But this quickly overwhelmed her and she grunted as she clawed at sand to ride out the pain.

Within a minute she was panting hard and although she could handle it, her eyes were wet and she had to clamp her jaws tight to roll with it.

For Ahmed there was no counting. He hastily guessed that if he rounded down, after five minutes he could be confident that she had taken at least 200 spanks and she would know that he had meant business.

Certainly by then the curves of her bottom were hard red deep into her cleft. Also where he was hard beneath her, she was wet and he spied small intimate hairs plastered in strands to her upper thigh. A hot band of iron held him from his member to his chest, and tight as he had never felt it with a woman.

Honour must be surely satisfied he realised, but he had promised himself to use the belt to finish and anyway he had not done with her. The spanking was addictive and for minutes without counting he spanked her relentlessly.

Megan did not yell or break to crying, but her eyes were teared and her heavy panting was close to sobs. Her bottom burned like a son-of-a-bitch and for once she wouldn’t have minded a short sojourn in a corner.

“We will finish this,” he rasped, now half mad with desire.

Megan nodded, but without waiting for agreement the prince tossed an unfurled bedroll onto the blanket and pressed her to lie over it with her bottom sticking up.

The belt was doubled in his hand and with a slow expert arm he lashed her bare backside like he meant it.

“You will not forget me,” he hissed and struck again.

For Megan the sting was unbearable, but in her heart she knew when he was done, then it would be over for them. No more spanking, no more desert, no more Ahmed… the thought stopped her throat and finally a sob escaped her.

Fifty, he thought, but he was done with counting. He simply welted her raw red bottom until she was broken with sobs and the lobes of her rump had been rendered useless for sitting for the duration.

“Ahmed, Ahmed, Ahmed,” Megan groaned over and over, if it was all she could have of him then she would take it.

As if to surrender she parted her legs and arched her bottom to the sky. She would take it all.

Seeing her crimson curves and the way they met the seamless parting of her wet sex, breathlessly Ahmed threw down the belt and seized her hips.

“I will have you,” he gasped.

“Oh yes,” she moaned, “Yes…”

He entered her easily, the hot globes of her bottom pressing into his belly. Then hauling her to him by her breasts, he rode her hard.

“Jesus, fuck me, oh my Christ,” she groaned.

Ahmed set his teeth at such blasphemy but he pressed her hard nonetheless. He would spank her again for that sin and then again; and long into the night. Each punishment would end in his pleasure like this; and hers too, if he willed it.

To be continued…