Numerous Delights - Cover

Numerous Delights

Copyright© 2010 by Charm Brights

Chapter 12: Breakfast

BDSM Sex Story: Chapter 12: Breakfast - A young accountant goes to work with the British Embassy in Kobekistan and soon learns to appreciate the values of a feudal society. He encounters young ladies from various backgrounds, all of whom he incorporates in his harem from time to time. Of course, most of them need to be punished for one thing or another. Helen he imports from England, but sells her. And then there is Samantha, he saves her from ‘a fate worse than death’ at home, and then gives her to the Emir as a virgin gift.

Caution: This BDSM Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Ma/ft   Consensual   NonConsensual   Reluctant   Coercion   Heterosexual   Historical   BDSM   DomSub   MaleDom   Spanking   Rough   Light Bond   Humiliation   Torture   Harem   Interracial   First   Oral Sex   Anal Sex   Caution   Violence  

Over breakfast, Derek discovered that things could move very fast indeed in Kobekistan if an Emir wanted them to. THMA had been contacted and had agreed to release him to work for the Emir at the end of his present contract. The Emir seemed to assume that three times his present salary, tax free with a free house would be sufficient incentive for him to join the Golden Palace staff, and since it had been agreed with THMA it seemed that he had little choice.

"As to the other details of the contract of your employment, there are no problems. You don't have one. If you want a holiday, you take it. If you think you need to visit somewhere, you go. If you decide to get another job, you leave. If I don't like your face, you also leave. All I ask is that the advice you give is honest," the Emir said.

Derek asked, "What do you mean, honest?"

"If I say to one of the Kobekistan staff here, 'Isn't it hot today?' he will answer 'Yes'. If I ask 'Not very hot today is it?' the answer will be 'No'. The answer always depends on what they think I want the answer to be, not what their opinion really is, nor the truth for that matter," explained the older man.

Then he giggled and said, "It reminds me of Latin where a question beginning with 'Num' expects the answer no. It is a penalty of being Emir, that it is nearly impossible to get honest answer to even the most trivial of questions. What I want from you is honest advice about what you would do as an accountant if it were your decision. What I do with that advice, follow it, ignore it, do the opposite, is no concern of yours. Reasons of state may demand a less cost-effective answer than you recommend."

"May I ask how, sir?" Derek essayed, tentatively.

"Well, if you say scrap the Concorde, I will. If you say change the Airbus fleet to Boeings, I won't. In the first case, nobody minds, and the British might welcome not having to produce spare parts for it. In the second case the whole relationship between Kobekistan and Europe, and between Kobekistan and the USA would be affected by such a highly visible move."

"I see," said Derek, wondering what would happen if he told the Emir that Maxwell House instant coffee would be a hundredth the price of his precious Blue Mountain.

"As to living, I'll see you get a decent house, it won't be as big as mine, but quite decent," he laughed again.

The Emir was evidently in a good mood, as Derek quailed at the thought of living in something the size of the Golden Palace with the army of staff it entailed. He hoped he would get something very much smaller.

"Anyway," said the Emir, "I can't sit here all day. An absolute ruler's work is never done."

He roared with laughter and added, "I love saying that; it sounds so silly. Unfortunately it is very nearly true; I can't believe King George VII has as much work to do as I."

As he stood up he said, "I'm afraid that the harem is our main national sport; no football and no cricket, but we are going hunting one day next week. My grandfather introduced it and the locals love it. Would you care to join us?"

"Of course, sir," said Derek, reviewing possible excuses for ducking it later, and deciding that a sprained ankle was the best bet; the last thing he wanted was to spend half a day chasing a pack of dogs all over the desert in a hundred plus degree heat.

The Emir's parting shot was, "And better luck next time with Beryl."

"Sir?" Derek was almost speechless.

The Emir smiled at him, "The Embassy may be legally British territory, but it is I who would have to defend it, were it attacked. It seems reasonable to me that I should have a fair idea what is going on in there."

With that he was gone.

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