Chapter 21

Friday, Aug 5^th, 2011

I attempted to try to find out just where Sasha Burke was located. I tried reading the mind of several of the harem girls and none knew where exactly they were. They knew they were in a Muslim country, and the nearest town was called Al Qua'a. Other than that no one knew anything. Even the head wife was captured by raiders as her family was Bedouins, who traveled the deserts in caravans moving from one watering hole to another, trading goods. She remembered, as a child, that her father said he'd been born near Al-kharj, but she didn't know where that was. Most of the ladies in the harem were uneducated, and kept that way.

I looked up both names. Al-kharj was in Saudi Arabia, and Al Qua'a was in the United Arab Emirates. The cities were over four hundred miles apart, as the crow flies.

Sasha was treated semi badly by most of the other women in the harem, only because she was the new girl. She had arrived only three months before. She had been like Victoria, however, as she had been transported from the states by Charles Bertrum about seven months ago. Other than getting all the shit jobs in the harem, Sasha was not really treated all that badly. She had not yet met her new husband, as she was being trained by the head wife for her role in the household. Of course being blond, blue-eyed and beautiful didn't help her plight much, either. I didn't think this would be someone we could rescue, but I would try.

Her owner was named Abu Marid Halim al-Jameel ibn Abdu al-Aziz ibn Nidaal al-mi'ri, or a translated meaning Father of Marid (the rebellious), Halim (the mild), son of Jameel (the handsome), son of (grandfather's name) Abdu al-Aziz (the magnificent), the Egyptian, or Halim Aziz.

Yeah, I know, very confusing. It took some research to be able to understand all the names, what they meant, and how he would be addressed. Of course, this would not help much for being able to return Sasha to her parents. All I could do was provide Samantha with the information, and let them know she was not really being mistreated. How someone would proceed from there, would be a nightmare. It would require the US State Department to get involved, and with so much red tape that it might not be worth the effort. Besides, I'm not sure the reward would be collectable, if they couldn't rescue Sasha ... not that that part entered into the scheme of things, but we would ask.

I called the office, since last night Samantha said that she was now working there. Gloria had a new client: our new CFO. I gave her all the information I knew about Sasha, and the problems I thought we might face. She was going to contact the family and the US State Department, to let them know what we had been able to dig up. She said she would handle it, from there.

She did ask if I had found any others, yet. I said I'd had a real hard time finding any information about Sasha, and that had taken up all my time this morning. I would try to see what I could do this afternoon, or tonight.

I fixed lunch for the three of us. Then it was time for the pool party people to begin showing up, so I was busy getting things ready for that.

The next person I should look for was James Hurley, the guy on the FBI most wanted list. I really didn't want to concentrate on him, until I could be alone, and not have to watch the antics of the pool bunch. I would save him for later this evening, or early tomorrow morning.

As far Jose Gonzales was concerned, I could understand his reasoning for leaving. Here is a guy, twenty-eight years old, and he has seventeen children. Unless he was as wealthy as Fred Root, there is no way he could afford to feed and clothe seventeen kids and a wife. So, naturally, they were all on welfare. Besides, it was very possible that I might never find him, anyway. It would be like trying to find a specific 'John Smith', in the USA.

The gang showed up, and it was controlled chaos for about four hours. My sisters did me the honor of rubbing me down with sunscreen, today, and I got teased by everyone. We did have a swimming contest with Ken, Gary, and me. The contest was to see who could swim the fastest for two laps and then after that, who could swim the longest time. Gary beat me at the fastest laps, but I beat both of them for the longest swim. I went six laps of the pool and Gary did five and a half before he gave up and Ken did five laps.

Needless to say, all three of us were done in at the end of our cool down laps. Each of us did about two really slow laps when we were done with the race. When we finally climbed out of the pool, and lay down on chaise lounges, all the girls fussed over us like each of us had won. It was quite nice to be fussed over, and we got rubbed down to help our muscles not cramp up on us.

While I was resting from the races, I did do a little looking for Frederick Root.

'Frederick Stanley Root of Houston, Texas, your Master is calling you. Answer only in your mind; do not alarm those around you. Do you hear me Slave?'

Nothing! That was weird. I called two more times, and then I ramped up the power and tried again.

Well, at least he was still alive and acting like an executive. Huh, I wonder what that is all about. Time will tell.

At last it was time for everyone to go home. I started my chores of clean up, and had some willing helpers of Bea, Brie and Marsha today. Soon I was making supper for us, and soon Mom would be home. I'd have to wait and see if Mom was in an amorous mood, tonight. The other night was nice, but Monday night was a bit much for me, even as young and fit as I am. Let's face facts: even a youngster can only come so often, in such a short time. I mean ... it was like; at least five times, in just over three hours. But then, too, it may have been more times than five. That night is still a little hazy in my mind. All I really remember was that Helen was completely insatiable, that night.

Mom came home in a real good mood. After supper, I went upstairs to see if I could contact Fred Root. He had said he was in a meeting earlier and couldn't be disturbed; well, he shouldn't be in a meeting, now. It was after seven our time.

I decided that this was just between Harry and me. I would say he was mistaken as a street person and killed by muggers in Los Angeles in 2006. No one knew who he was, he'd had no ID, and he had been disfigured from the attack. They had put him down as a John Doe. During the investigation, his fingerprints were never matched (which is not uncommon for a lot of people). Another one to write off the list, but I think we can still try to collect the reward. I can just say he was buried, and after six months of trying to find his identity, the police gave up.

Soon, it was bedtime for us all. After tucking in Bea and Brie, Helen and I went to our room for the night. Once in bed, Helen and I cuddled and then made sweet love to each other. I devoured my lover with kisses meant to arouse the lust within her. I must have spent at least a half hour at the juncture of her thighs. She was very relaxed when she finally tugged my hair to move up her body. I moved up, licking and blowing my way up her torso, finally kissing her lips as I planted my rod inside her.

As I sank into her depths, she arched her body in orgasm. I continued my slow movements, drilling her depths with my shaft. I felt myself beginning to enter my last phase of love making, and speeded up my strokes. Shortly, it was over. I plowed to the end of her furrow, and released my seed into her non-fertile womb, wishing that there was some way to reverse that hasty decision that was made so many years ago.

Saturday, Aug 6^th, 2011

I wish I could wake up every morning the way I woke up this morning. I awoke with a feeling of oneness with the world around me, and with a mouth softly sucking on my burgeoning dick. It was a gently sucking motion that woke me slowly, allowing my dreams to come true.

Once awake, I pulled my mother up to me, and kissed her good morning. Then I rolled her over, and paid homage to her 'fountain of youth' at the juncture of her thighs. Soon I was the one being pulled up, and we made love in the morning. Of course, what started out as sweet love making, turned into wild animal lust. Before long we had finished, together, as a sweaty mess on the bed.

Then it was shower time. After breakfast, I needed to lie down and concentrate on our fugitive from justice, Mr. Hurley. After a lovely breakfast of orange Danish (from a tube) and milk, I went back upstairs to my room. I lay down to concentrate on Mr. Hurley.