Girlish Delights
Chapter 26: Slaves

Copyright© 2010 by Charm Brights

BDSM Sex Story: Chapter 26: Slaves - It was six years after he became Emir of Kobekistan that David Ransome discovered that his Oxford girl friend, Pauline, had borne his child. When the mother died in a car crash, he stepped in and made his daughter a Princess at 20 years old. She takes to the life of a Royal favourite with gusto, indulging all her dominant bi-sexual appetites to the full. This book was written jointly with Ms. Linnet, who provided the technical expertise an elderly male author did not have.

Caution: This BDSM Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Ma/ft   Fa/Fa   ft/ft   Fa/ft   Ma/Ma   Consensual   NonConsensual   Reluctant   Rape   Coercion   Slavery   Lesbian   Heterosexual   Historical   BDSM   DomSub   MaleDom   FemaleDom   Spanking   Rough   Humiliation   Sadistic   Torture   Gang Bang   Orgy   Harem   Interracial   First   Oral Sex   Anal Sex   Caution   Violence  

When Jeremy arrived in Venice the first thing he did was to present his credentials to the Kobekistani Consulate. It was from there he found out that the three missing slaves had escaped from the VIP suite at the airport and wandered about in the air side lounges until they were stopped by customs and immigration staff when they tried to leave the passenger area. They had been arrested and taken to the Questura in Mestre, where they were unable to explain themselves, since none spoke anything but the Kobekistan dialect of Arabic. The police had eventually contacted the Consul, because the official interpreter had been unable to understand more than about one word in four of their dialect of Arabic, but had correctly identified it as Kobekistani. Of course they had no papers so the Consul knew nothing about them. Therefore the police had been told he was unavailable, which they rightly understood to mean that he wanted time to check with his superiors exactly what was happening.

"Good," said Jeremy, "I know who they are. They are three escaped slaves from the entourage of Princess Elaheh, and I am supposed to get them back to Kobekistan."

After the Consul had expressed his eternal gratitude to Jeremy at considerable length, they made their way together to the Questura, where the Consul explained that Jeremy was acting as lawyer for the Kobekistani government and had full powers in this matter. It was only after the Consul had left that the investigating officer, who spoke excellent English, explained the problem.

"You see, Excellency, we have here three illegal immigrants who landed, apparently from nowhere, in Marco Polo airport with no papers, and who speak no language we understand. Please speak to them and then give me answers to three questions. First, where did they come from, and how? Second, where do they think they are, and where are they going? Third, why are they here?"

"I don't speak Kobekistani either," said Jeremy, and Commissario Agnotto's face fell, "but I can call in an official Kobekistani court interpreter to speak to them. He will translate into English, French or classical Arabic as you wish, though I would prefer English."

"English will be fine," said the policeman.

"Are they here or in San Servolo?"

"Signore, they are here. We do not send people to San Servolo unless they are convicted criminals."

On the cell 'phone Princess Elaheh had given him he explained what he wanted and what the plan was. She agreed immediately and despatched Hameez to Mestre by helicopter.

After making the call Jeremy continued, "Dottore, I can answer some of your questions immediately. The reason you cannot trace their arrival is that they came in on the royal flight from Kobekistan and were originally in the VIP lounge awaiting transit to the Imperial Voyager, the Kobekistani royal yacht."

"That explains a great deal," said the officer and made a telephone call in rapid Italian with much hand-waving.

Jeremy wondered idly how he could wave both hands so wildly and not have the telephone fall from his shoulder, and what difference the hand waving made to the person on the other end of the line, but continued, "As to where they want to go, and why, I expect they wish to rejoin their party aboard the Kobekistani Royal Yacht Imperial Voyager. I assume they merely got lost in the airport."

"I agree," said the policeman, "But I have to be certain that these are not people who fear oppression in their own country and wish asylum here in the European Union. I must hear that from their own mouths to be sure."

"Oppression?" thundered Jeremy, faking almost losing his temper, "Dottore, please. These are staff in the personal service of the Golden Palace and of His Magnificence, the Emir Mahmoud Abdullah, may he live for ever. How can you think for one instant that they suffer from oppression?"

"Please, please, I did not say I thought that, merely that I have to hear it from their own lips to satisfy the pen-pushing officials who will review the papers in this case. These people have been arrested and so there must be an official report. That is all I said. Of course there is no question of accusing the Kobekistani royal family of any improper behaviour."

The investigating officer had visions of an international incident with him responsible, and shuddered for his career and his pension.

"When you say you must hear it from these three yourself, do you mean to learn Kobekistani, or will an official Kobekistani Palace interpreter suffice?"

 
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