Chapter 22: Helping

Four nights later, Fatima was escorted to the Emir's bedroom having gone through the whole routine of being bathed, shaven, perfumed, made-up and oiled front and rear, just as she had so often seen other chosen girls being prepared for his, or visitors' beds.

As she was being prepared, she thought, 'It's just possible that English Arab bastard has relented and will keep me as one of his women. Wife is too much to expect. Still, he's younger than the last one they tried to make me shag. If we had met back home I might have gone for him.'

What she wasn't expecting was the medium sized crowd she found in the royal bedroom. The bath girls and the eunuchs she wasn't surprised by. It seemed normal now that it took half a dozen serving staff to do anything at all. The other five people she didn't expect, or understand.

Two were girls she knew by sight from the harem, though neither of them spoke English; they were in the same usual harem dress that she wore and were fully occupied making amorous advances to two Arab men, who were a great surprise, one old and one young. When she thought about it, she could not remember any men being in the harem precincts except the Emir.

Then there was a young girl, perhaps her own age, but made up to look much younger. She looked oddly American in that she was wearing a white smock of fine muslin which reached down to her knees and was not in the least transparent. She had an air of total terror about her, with a determination not to show it which made an oddly endearing combination.

The Emir came into the room from his bathroom just as she arrived, and seeing her he said, "Good. I need your help for a few minutes. Your job is to warm up this little lass for me so that she not so terrified and is a bit more relaxed when I fuck her."

Without thinking she reacted again, and badly, saying, "What the hell do you mean? Warm up? Why are all these people here? Do you need an audience to fuck a kid like her, or are you some kind of pervert?"

The reply was a frank as it was brutal, "Fatima, one nod from me and you go out of here to be strangled. If you go or not, I don't care. Now will you cooperate?"

This put a literal and genuine fear of death into the American girl.

Bowing her head she answered very meekly, "What do you want me to do?"

"Lucky for you nobody else speaks English, so I can explain whenever you need it," David answered, "I am taking my jus primæ noctis with the woman. It's Latin and means 'the right to the first night'. These two men are the girl's father and her new husband. She was married a few hours ago and they have brought her here for me to take her virginity as is my right as their Emir. They will be witnesses to this ceremonial."

Curiosity got the better of good sense again and Fatima asked, "Do you do every girl in the land?"

"No, of course not," snapped the Emir, "I'd never be finished. Only the most influential of fathers can arrange this; it is a big privilege for the girl and her husband. It would be an even bigger one if I came in her, but these families aren't that important."

Fatima was utterly bemused at this totally incomprehensible set of values. Men preferring someone else to pop their brides' cherries, and being even more pleased if he knocked them up.

Again she put her oar in, "Well that wouldn't go well in the U. S. of A. I know some of our Presidents have put it about a bit, but none of them demanded that!"

"It is the usual thing here. He's never seen the girl before today and she has never seen him, so there is no emotional bond between them as yet."

"Crazy, but if it's usual here, well ... What do I have to do, cheerlead?"

"I won't warn you again," advised the Emir, "She's very nervous. She has never set foot outside her father's house in all her nineteen years. Now she's just been married to a man her father picked. To cap it all she has met the Emir, her absolute ruler. She doesn't know if it's her wedding day or a mad dream any more."

Smiling at the groom, who didn't understand much of what was going on, he continued in English to Fatima, "What you do is you get her warmed up for me, because she needs it. Then you hold her in place while I fuck her. Then you tear off her night-dress, mop some blood on to it and give it to the husband. Then you're available for fucking if either of the Arabs wants you."

"What do you mean, warm her up?"

"Well you know, foreplay. Her cunt is going to be all dry and tight. Feel her up, suck her clitty, do I have to draw a diagram?" the Emir snapped, his tone persuading a eunuch to wave a whip at Fatima.

"You've got me wrong, brother. I'm not that way; I've never touched another girl like that. I'm not doing that for anyone, that's perverted," she fumed.