EXTRACT FOR
Sebayah! (sex Slave!)
(Longbow)

Standing up in front of the four speechless, western, blue-eyed blondes from Billericay, Watford, Bounds Green and Tunbridge Wells, Wah'led removed his clothing, one piece at a time, until naked and lay down on the sand dune.

	"Even though you are all very skinny and not at all attractive, I have graciously accepted you into my harem. You are my property. I own you. I have decided to take you in to my home, teach you the law's of Al'lah and keep you from ignoring your purpose. You will obey me. You will pleasure me now. When I am satisfied, you can thank me for saving you from yourselves, for each of you are a slut and a whore!"

	Sally, suddenly wishing she were on the 06:48 to Cockfosters and complaining about the, by comparison, harmless perverts on the train, reacted instantly. She leaped to her feet and thrusting out the middle finger of her right hand, screamed.

	"I have a better idea! Fuck this!"

	With a sudden, unexpected leap, Wah'led knocked Sally to the ground, his long knife, glinting in the early morning sunlight, held firmly to her throat.

	"Daughter of Sa'tan!"

	Wah'led's face contorted with rage. He clearly was not used to disobedience.

	"I shall cut off your clitoris and feed it to the ants!"

	Three shaking hands, pulled at their only clothing. Their other hand pushed tightly between their legs, subconsciously shielding themselves.

	Spinning Sally onto her front, he pushed her face into the sand and easily held her hands behind her back. Although she fought and struggled, she was no match for the lean, muscle bound Bedouin. Pulling at thin rope, he tied her wrists together tightly, before calmly sitting back on the red sand dune.

..........

Sharon's eyes shut tight. Her labia parted. His bell-end, shiny from Nicola's endless rush of sticky, excited juices, easily separated her vagina. He toyed with her. Rubbing his fat helmet against soft yielding folds of skin, he penetrated only his helmet, before pulling out and pushing back. Sharon's fists closed, grabbing at the thick grains of sand. Her eyes shot open wide. The intensity fired bursting tingles through her belly. She couldn't stop her pelvis from jerking.

	"Please!" She gasped. "Fuck me hard!"

..........



"Beg!"

	Nicola pushed her hips upward to get more of him inside her.

	"Beg! Only a man can take care of you!"

	She tried to wrap her legs around him, to pull him closer, to make him enter her vagina.

	"Beg and I will give you what you want!"

	Pushing her hands deeply into the hot sand, Nicola screamed out, tugging at his ass with her feet, wriggling and gyrating her hips up and down, forcing that fat bulbous end to generate more, to do more, to just take her again and make her cum - again!

	"Please Wah'led! Please! I'm begging you! Fuck me!"

..........



Working quickly, Noor raised her free hand high above her head and smashed her camel whip down hard against Sally's fleshy, unguarded backside.

	Sally, abruptly woken from her dream, howled in pain. The whip lashed again. Two reddened lines formed on Sally's skin. They stung like hell. She didn't know what was happening, or for that matter, why. Again, the whip struck, this time, her shoulder, her waist, the back of her leg and the souls of her feet. Each caning brought a torrent of abuse from Noor's embittered mouth.

	"Whore!"

	"Slut!"

	"Ghaba!"

	"Raflah!"

	Sally writhed in pain, but apart from the use of one foot was unable to protect herself. She still had no control. Noor certainly didn't and bursting into a fit of tears, screamed hysterically.

	"Why? Why did you do that to me? I was just a little girl!"

	Wiping away her tears, she threw the lifeless body over onto her back. Terrified, Sally tried to plead. A threatening stick waived an inch from her nose. Noor screamed.

	"Don't speak! Don't even look at me!

	Trembling, Sally closed her eyes and felt her legs viciously hauled apart. The cane slashed into tender soft skin on the inside of her thigh, not an inch from her pussy. Another two short whacks and three on the other leg brought six whelps, bruised and bloodied to the surface. The stick smashed into the softest, most tender skin of all. Sally's vagina buzzed, stinging, abused in a wild, uncontrollable fit of jealousy.

	"Please!" Sally begged. Lost as to why her apparent saviour had turned in such a way.

	"I said don't speak!"

	Noor lost control completely. The camel cane smashed down repeatedly across every part of Sally's body. Saliva erupted, pouring from Noor's mouth. Nostrils flared and eyes widened as her orgy of administered revenge crashed down on Sally's defenceless soft skin. She could do nothing to prevent it. Red whelps crisscrossed Sally's breasts and stomach. Arms and legs bruised red and black. Where flesh was at its thinnest, blood trickled as skin opened, crushed against her own bones.	

	Sally felt finished. Resistance, her normal response to most situations was not an option. She murmured to herself, she should have taken the money. She could take no more. She just wanted to surrender.

	"No more! Please!"

..........

Wah'led saw only two things. 

	First, he saw his wife, who was his property and must only ever satisfy him, whenever he chooses, clearly was a whore, fallen prey by the western slut with a clitoris. The other thing was that his latest slave was damaged. How would he get a good price for her now? She was worthless and would have to stay longer than he planned in order for the marks and bruises to heal. 

	He tore Noor away from Sally's clutches. Sally leapt from the bed, cowering in a corner. She had never seen anyone beaten in such a sadistic, inhuman way. Noor's face, repeatedly targeted, quickly turned into a bloodied pulp as she passively whimpered, begging forgiveness. 

	None came. 

	Al'lah's law, administered by man was clear and not for the first time, would Noor remember it well. The Abaya, the black garment used by women to cover their faces, only showing their eyes, is meant to prevent men from facing their weakness, their inability to not react to desire. Sally now realised it had another, more sinister purpose, to hide the evidence of their men's evil temper.

	When the beating finally stopped, Noor's tiny body lay in a bloodied, crumpled heap on the floor. She would remain there, unconscious for hours, before waking and wishing she were still unconscious. In the meantime, he had another lesson for Sally Fielding from Bounds Green. Wah'led, feeling incredibly aroused by his dominance and authority, tore at his Dishdasha until naked. His erection jutted from his body as he yanked Sally by the hair, lifted her from the floor and threw her onto the bed.

	Still unable to defend herself with hands that stubbornly refused to come back to life, Sally found herself upturned, her head forced into the bed, suffocating, her ass pulled into the air.

	Penetrating Sally's unguarded vagina was easy, swift and brutal.

..........

She should have screamed.

	No one saw Ragib's large frame easily overpower the small western girl, nor did anyone see him steal her off into the dark shadows, one hand clasped tightly around her mouth, the other around her slim waist, carrying her kicking body effortlessly. 

	In an instant, Natasha was gone.

..........

The message was clear, scream and I will snap you in two. 

	Frustrated that her dry vagina refused all of his attempts at penetration, he released his grip, spat saliva on his hand and rubbed it against his bell-end. It worked, Natasha's labia finally surrendered, opening, agonisingly swallowing and enveloping her attackers erection. The combination of her suspended weight pushing down and his oversized, powerful hips pushing up, ensured that penetration was absolute. Natasha lunged at his unguarded face. Teeth clenched firmly around a smelly, unwashed cheek. She bit with all the fury and determination she could muster and held on, refusing, even though she tasted blood, to release her grip. She was no match for his physical power. With his king-sized hand wrapped tightly around her neck again, she was forced to comply and could do no other than choke, her face turning red and then blue as he fucked her dry vagina standing up.

	It took less than a minute, although it felt much longer, for his engorged erection to erupt inside her. Natasha felt sick, humiliated and beaten. At least it was over. 

	She was wrong. 

..........

All inner fight evaporated, giving in to the inevitable, unable to change anything, simply allowing this hideous monster to do as he wished. 

	The thing that will stay with her forever, the thing that she will never allow herself to forgive or forget, is when he lay on his back and with hand still clenched around her neck, he made her fuck him. He made her straddle her legs each side of his hips and guide his erection into her vagina, pushing down, sitting on him until he was fully inside her. Then he made her move her hips back and fore, riding his penis, fucking the bastard that violated her. Even that humiliation will eventually fade in comparison to what he made her do next. It was so degrading, so mortifying that she will never speak of it. 

	He made her kiss him.

	His breath stank of the most hideous odour. His exploring tongue inside her mouth made her feel sick, but a tightened grip on her neck made her respond. It made her give-in to his whim, convinced that this was her last day on earth. She kissed him while her hips rose and fell, her vagina swollen, pulled wide apart by a massive prick that far from creating any tingling response, made her numb and sore, but she kissed him anyway, desperate to make him cum, desperate for no more violence, desperate to make it over with.

	It wasn't over.

	Pulling Natasha off him, he forced her head to his chest, shaking her forcefully until her tongue ran over his foul tasting skin. He pushed her down to his belly, gasping at the feel of her delicate touch. She felt his erection twitching against the side of her face, and squirmed when he pushed again. Natasha's mouth opened and opened wider. Only at full stretch could her jaws open wide enough to take the end of his prick into her mouth. Her head bobbed back and fore, pushed down by a hand that grabbed tightly at her hair. Chapped lips split, rubbing open cuts against fleshy skin. The odour of three-month-old cheese and cats piss filled her flared nostrils, desperate to breath. Natasha's vomit erupted, bursting from her throat, into her nose and splattered across his testicles. He made her continue, tasting her own vomit. The smell of her own bile was not as bad as the smell that erupted from his groin. He made her give him his manly right to dominate the Sebayah, for this is the way.

..........

Rashid liked to spear his Sebayah with hooks, pushing the pointed edge into their skin and then hoop it back out again. With his victims incapable of movement, trust up in complete bondage, he loves to watch their agony as he pulls on ropes or steel chains attached to the hooks. His torture, while another Sebayah or two pleasure him, can last for hours. Wah'led considered how his own Harem must think themselves fortunate to have such a loving and lenient master. His begging ring without doubt was a much more humane way of training them.

..........

Made to face a palm tree, Ragib's hands and arms were quickly bound at waist height tightly around its prickly, uneven surface, the side of his face chaffing. They pulled him tighter. His neck wrenched painfully at an angle, sharp edges cut into his cheek. Ragib fell to his knees, still pleading. Off white, filthy rags were shredded, torn from his body until naked, his bare back lay defenceless against the scorching sun and his hairy arse, pushed out, open to abuse. He would stay there, heart beating, sun burning, thoughts of despair crushing his brain and tears running down his dust covered face until Wah'led, his master, was ready. Ragib urinated.

	Inside the solarium, Wah'led face turned purple with rage. He called his harem to watch, waving his camel cane inches from Rosa's face. He was so angry his hand shook.

	She knew what to do. 

	Without any exchange of words, Rosa, with all the dignity she could muster, removed her clothes, all of them, allowing the meagre material to fall to an expensive white tiled floor that had seen it all before. No amount of blood could stain its extra-hardened surface.

	The newer girls covered their faces. Even the older ones who had seen Rosa's body before lowered eyes that instantly watered, a feeling of worthlessness and hopelessness hit everyone's stomach. Without exception, every girl thanked God that it wasn't them.

	Against the light, the only way to describe Rosa's silhouette, was perfect. Flawlessly proportioned in every sense, this tiny Philippino body, with long, jet-black shiny hair reaching passed her firm and rounded backside, slim thighs, flat, taught belly and delicate, upturned breasts was enough to drive any woman insane with jealousy and every man crazy with want. Little wonder she was once Wah'led's favourite. In the light, away from the shadows, Rosa's soft delicate skin criss-crossed with scars, some old and healed, some more fresh, still red and puffy. There wasn't an inch of flesh that wasn't damaged. This once beautiful girl, now looked like a butchers experiment, awkwardly stitched together in a series of lumps and bumps. No one could begin to comprehend the pain this girl had endured.

	Rosa, in full and absolute compliance lowered her head and turned. Raising an arm, she pulled her hair over her shoulder, giving unshielded access to her back and to Wah'led's impending fury. It came instantly, in a flurry of barbaric and savage beatings with the cane, so severe, Rosa's flesh split, cutting long lines of open wounds. Wah'led's eyes blazed at the glory of his power.

	"God is great!" He repeated with every crippling blow.

..........

Once in the corridor, Rosa dropped the clothes, she already had what she needed and made her way up the grand staircase leading to Noor's bedroom. She didn't knock. Noor, shielding her face, called Rosa a ghaba, a whore who had no right to be here. Rosa made no apologies and for the first time ever, didn't lower her eyes to the floor in absolute subservience. Instead, she leapt at the shocked local woman and grabbing her long hair jerked her head back. Rosa's arm swung, swiftly, determined. She knew exactly what she was doing.

	She had thought about this moment a thousand times and never could decide just how satisfying it would feel. There was no satisfaction at all, but she was surprised at how easily the razor sharp dagger, with its gem incrusted ivory handle, sliced, cutting into open and unguarded flesh. It took just one cut. One cut to avenge the hundreds she had received at the hands of this sick woman. Revenge is always better served cold. Rosa felt nothing as Noor clutched at her throat and terrible garbled bubbling noises hissed through her severed windpipe. A look of terror spread across Noor's beaten black and blue face. Eyes bulged from their sockets as nostrils flared; obeying her brains instructions to breathe. All she needed to do was breathe. Noor's final moment was pathetic, as she slumped to the bedroom floor an arm stretched out, begging for mercy.

	None came.