Intrusive Delights - Cover

Intrusive Delights

Copyright© 2010 by Charm Brights

Chapter 1: Oxford Journey

BDSM Sex Story: Chapter 1: Oxford Journey - The Emir plays with the minds and the bodies of some of his subjects. The husband of one of the slaves, a kidnapped Sicilian woman, tries to rescue her, and feels the full force of the Emir's wrath. A prostitute in a cheap brothel discovers his gratitude. A would-be rapist picks the wrong target and suffers for it. The Emir explores more of his magnificent Palace complex and discovers some very interesting rooms indeed. This is the author’s least favourite novel in the Delights series.

Caution: This BDSM Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Ma/ft   Consensual   NonConsensual   Reluctant   Rape   Coercion   Drunk/Drugged   Heterosexual   Fiction   Historical   Incest   Mother   Son   BDSM   DomSub   MaleDom   Spanking   Rough   Humiliation   Sadistic   Torture   Harem   Interracial   First   Oral Sex   Anal Sex   Fisting   Caution   Violence  

Some ten weeks after his accession, the Emir finally received a fairly friendly letter from the Master of his old college in Oxford inquiring when he was intending to return to complete his Ph.D. There was, of course, no pressure on the Emir but the college would rather like to make use of his rooms if he did not intend to come into residence in the near future. Immediately he resolved to sort out Oxford once and for all.

After talking to Kamal Qumsiyeh and Hajji Kofi Natsheh he ordered them to set up a trust fund of about £5,000,000 to endow a Chair at his old college. Because he did not trust the College authorities, the fund would be set up with several conditions, among them that his representative would be able to veto any unsuitable candidates, such as the Master of the College, who wished to add the salary to an existing one from the University. If the College tried to retaliate by not appointing anyone for a long time, the money would revert to Kobekistan.

Then he arranged to fly over to Oxford to meet the Master and arrange about his rooms. Naturally the Master did not wish to be bothered about such trivialities, but the Emir really fancied the idea of the old duffer having to be obsequious to a visiting Head of State and large benefactor who had, only weeks before, been one of the lowest forms of life in the University hierarchy. Accordingly the College Finance Officer was told of the possible endowment and he forced the Master to invite the Emir to visit. Then Hajji Kofi Natsheh had to notify the relevant authorities that the Emir was making a strictly private visit and that no formal acknowledgement of his presence was needed, or wanted, from the British Government.


It was the first time the Emir had used his private 'plane; the journey from England had been in a normal 747 of Air Kobekistani which had been used by the royal advisors while another aeroplane was prepared to replace the one in which the old Emir and the Crown Prince had died.

He had indicated that he wanted to meet the flight crew before take off, and as he entered the main cabin he was pleased to see that the entire crew were lined up to greet him. The Captain introduced him to the other five men who made up the rest of the crew, two more pilots, a navigator and two stewards. There were several of his private bodyguard there also. Standing behind the men were the stewardesses, whom nobody thought to introduce; they were, after all, women. The flying uniform Air Kobekistani was similar to that of the other airlines around the world; navy blue smart suits with badges of rank at the epaulette and the flag of Kobekistan on the lapels and the cap. The stewardesses did not look like other airlines' staff, however. They wore small caps with the Kobekistani flag on and sensible flat shoes; otherwise they were naked.

"The stewardesses?" asked the Emir, "What do they wear when we are on the ground in London?"

"It is necessary to dress them in the Western style at any airport we use, including Kobek, Master," said the Captain, "Otherwise they would have to stay on board and we would not be able to allow cleaning staff and maintenance men on the aeroplane. It is unfortunate, but there really is no other way."

Leading the way, the Captain gave the Emir a tour of the facilities. There was a pleasant lounge with all the facilities for passing the time comfortably including television and deep armchairs, a small library with a working desk, a selection of entertainment videos, telephone, PC, and so forth; aft of that there was a stateroom for the Emir equipped with a large bed, and a whipping bench with a small selection of whips. The Captain explained that the bodyguard would all be accommodated upstairs in normal first-class seating, and that the nose section downstairs was the galley.

"The women?" the Emir asked, "I have not brought any with me."

"All are available at your command, Master," the Captain assured him, "On every flight there is at least one virgin, should the Emir wish to use such a one, and the others are carefully trained companions. The royal virgin is a highly sought-after post as it gives the woman a unique opportunity to catch the Emir's eye. She is always guaranteed virgin in all three portals, Master. Of course, any of the stewardesses can be used at the Emir's wish, or offered to any of his travelling companions. The crew and bodyguards have other arrangements and are not normally to be distracted during flights."

"Shall we leave for London now?" said the Emir, "and send the virgin to me."

As he sat down on the bed, a young woman slipped into the stateroom and knelt just inside the door making full obeisance to him, remaining with her head pressed firmly to the floor throughout the take off.

"If I say nothing to you, how long would you remain like that?" he asked.

"Until the Magnificence leaves the room, Master," was the reply, and he was almost tempted to leave her thus for the seven hours of the flight to London.

"Get up and come here," he ordered, "Sit beside me."

The girl was obviously very nervous, but did as she was bidden. The Emir looked her over as she walked towards him and marvelled again at the wonderfully elegant upright walk of these women. She was young, about twenty or a little less, slimmer than most Arab women, with beautifully curved resilient breasts and a flat belly. Her nipples had been rouged, he noticed, and she had been shaved so close that he might have thought she had not yet grown any pubic hair.

"How do you manage to shave so cleanly?" he asked.

"Master, the hair was allowed to grow last week and then waxed off this morning," she replied.

"Why are you here?" was his next question and she looked puzzled.

"For the Master's pleasure?" she answered doubtfully.

"No, I know that. What are you trying to achieve by being here as a virgin for the Emir's pleasure?"

"Master. It is an honour to be deflowered by the Emir. If the Emir is very pleased with me, he might..."

She broke off looking worried.

"Continue," said the Emir, "I wish to hear you answer and you will not be punished for it.".

"His Magnificence, the Emir Ibrahim once took a virgin from the Royal Flight into his harem, Master."

"This is my first flight in this aeroplane. If you please me, you too can come into my harem as a celebration of that fact," he offered.

"Master! Oh, Master," she enthused, dropping to the floor to kiss his feet, "Anything the Master wishes."

The Emir decided to test the sincerity of this display of cupboard love. Would she really do anything to achieve the status of harem prostitute for guests of the Emir?

"You realise that you would not be a concubine; merely a hostess?" he asked.

"Master. I think to be a bath girl in the Golden Palace is a great honour. To entertain the Emir's honoured guests would be a far greater privilege."

"Right. Over the whipping bench then," he ordered.

There was not the slightest hesitation as the girl ran to the bench and draped herself over it, legs wide apart, arse high, accessible in every way, and positioned perfectly for punishment. Just then there was a knock at the door.

"Yes?" called the Emir and Kamal Qumsiyeh put his head round the door.

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