She couldn't' t believe what had happened. She had been kidnapped, drugged, and now she was in a small room with her hands tied behind her back, he ankles bound together, and her mouth gagged.

Samantha struggled against the ropes, but it was no use. They were tied too tightly to allow any movement.

The door to the room opened and she tensed. A small man, with an olive complexion, dark eyes, and dark but graying hair stepped inside.

"Good," he said, in heavily accented English. "You're awake."

He leaned down and removed the gag. "Where am I?" Samantha croaked.

He smiled. "Just relax, miss. His Highness wants to see you."

She gasped, "His Highness?"

The small man bowed. "His Royal Highness, the Sultan of Al Banyan, Rashid al Abdul-lan."

Oh, God! A harem! Samantha thought in terror.

"I'm in a harem?"

The man chuckled. "No, miss. You are to be the sultan's mistress. A very high honor, I must say."

"Who are you?"

"Servant to the sultan, my name is Malik. And it is my duty to see that you are prepared for an audience with His Highness."

With that, he untied her and whisked her off to a large dressing room. Samantha was awed by what she saw. The closet was huge, filled with Eastern style clothes. The bath-tub in the connecting bathroom was big enough to accommodate three people.

"You can have use of all these," Malik said, indicating the cosmetics and toiletries on the counter, "and the clothes are for your use. I suggest a bath, then dress and prepare for His Highness."

He clapped his hands and two women in Eastern clothes came in.

"This is Samira and this is Rosine. They are servants as well, and are at your disposal." Samira drew the water for Samantha's bath and Rosine whisked away her simple skirt and blouse. Then Samira washed Samantha's wheat-blond hair and rubbed her skin with scented oils.

Samantha had never been so pampered and loved the attention.

After the bath, Rosine blow-dried Samantha's hair and pulled it up and way from her face, forming a loose chignon at the back of her head, and secured it in place with pins, then Samira did her makeup.

After that, Samantha dismissed them and went to the closet. There were no undergar-ments, and not a single thread of Western clothing. She chose a sleeveless green silk caftan and pulled it over her head, and put on a pair of strappy gold sandals.

Then Malik came in.

"Excellent choice, miss. May I ask your name?"

"Samantha Wyndham."

He nodded, then handed Samantha a heavy white robe that would cover her body, and a green veil to cover her hair and the lower part of her face.

She put on the robe, and Malik helped secure the veil in place, then offered his arm.

"Come, Miss Wyndham. His Highness is waiting."

In an imposing throne room, the Sultan of Al Banyan was seated in a cushioned chair. He smiled when the robed girl was brought before him.

Samantha was stunned by the appearance. He was tall, with finely chiseled features and an athletic physique. His skin was a deep olive, and his hair was raven-black. When he drew close, Samantha's sky-blue eyes were staring into deep brown eyes that burned with an unquenchable lust.

"Samantha. Welcome to Al Banyan. That is all, Malik. You may leave."

Malik left and Rashid lifted her hand to his lips. "You will come to love it here, I am sure," he said, and then pulled the veil away from her face.

"Such lovely hair," he said, sliding his fingers through the strands, then pulling the pins from her hair. "I prefer to see your hair down," he murmured, as the silky blond strands fell down her back.

Samantha pulled away. "I will never submit to you willingly."

His gaze hardened. "Then I suppose I will have to rape you. I hoped you would submit, but since you will not..."

Three very large men came in and picked her up. She struggled and beat at them with her feet, but they were oblivious to her blows.

"Take her to the nearest bedroom. I will see you soon, Samantha!" Rashid called after her.

In the bedroom, the guards tore the robe from her body and tied her hands to the bedposts with silk ropes, then her ankles together with another silken rope.

One of the guards, a man with light skin and sandy hair, appeared to be American, like her.

"Tend to her, Roger," said one of the olive-skinned men, then they left the room. Samantha was left with the American man.

"Please, please help me," she pleaded.

He shifted uncomfortably. "Miss, I can't go against Rashid."

"At least loosen the ropes. I won't tell. I'll make it worth your while."

He licked his suddenly dry lips. "How?"

"When I get away, I'll send you money. My family is very wealthy. I'll set you up a Swiss bank account."

"You will never get away and I have no interest in money, miss. There is something else you can give me."

Samantha said, "And that is?"

"Sex," he said bluntly. "If you do, I will untie you, but I will lock you in."

Samantha inclined her head. He would untie her, and she might not find the sex so unpleasant this time, as she did the last time she attempted it.

Roger untied her then climbed onto the bed. Samantha sat up and pulled off the silk caftan. Her tits were large and the nipples hard. Her cunt was shaven.

Roger spread her legs and slipped two fingers into her cunt. "You're wet," he breathed.