A novella ~ "Privateer's Desire: Stealing Romance"

[BradBigBrain]

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[DeepGreenEyes]

If this novella were a PM, it would be a big ol', amazingly written crush-PM to lit username RomanceAndEpicStorytelling!

 

[Mrtenant]

MrT and CB - simply perfect storytelling. I know I'm completely enthralled Kudos to you both, now don't leave us hanging!

Good morning AKL! We arrrrr so glad you are enjoying everything. The next installment is coming up. Thank you kindly for the compliment. Means a lot!

Wow - I just got caught up . . . Love all the pictures too - great stuff!

Good morning AF! Thank you very much for the compliments. We are both so glad to see you visit.

Subscribed!!

Got to catch up!

Welcome to the party! Glad to see you here 3B. Catch up quick, the adventure is heating up!

If this novella were a PM, it would be a big ol', amazingly written crush-PM to lit username RomanceAndEpicStorytelling!

Good morning DGE! Lol, thank you for your kind words and compliments. Really hope you are enjoying the story.

And a hearty Thank You to all other Litsters not posting here today. Cascadia and I really hope you enjoy the story. There's more to come. Stay tuned.

As its morning (here at least) ...here's coffee and tea of all sorts, please enjoy...

 

[Mrtenant]

From outside the bathhouse, I watch for any sign of you. There is a retinue of soldiers and officials milling about along with a large palanquin stationed a few steps from the premium slave-auction bathhouse.

This part of the process is well known to me. Soon, you will appear with guards on either side you as escort. Then you will join the rest of the household and either remain in the city or depart for their tribal lands.

At last, I catch a brief glimpse of you. At least I think it must be you. Dressed in white from head to toe and hooded, so only a few strands of your long hair escape – but this is the tell.

No other slaves this day had your beautiful long hair. I watch an official and his retinue escort you to the palanquin of the wealthy sheikh.

I can only imagine what is happening. Is the Sheikh inside? That would not be usual. But this has not been a usual sale.

The gold of your new shackles gleams in the low afternoon sun. No doubt they will secure those chains inside the palanquin, ensuring you do not escape.

In short order, the caravan leaves the market. Guards escort on either side of the elegant palanquin. The entire retinue is some fifty guardsmen strong. MARCHING GUARDSMEN(<<<click this link)

Slowly they wend their way through the city leaving by the south gate. I take care to never take my eyes from the curtain where I am sure you are within. When the curtain flutters aside, I think I glimpse your face. I wonder, can you see me?

Disguised as a rather largish Arabian striding close by, I pray you do notice I am still close and take heart. Close to sundown, the city is far behind as the retinue marches through a small canyon.

 

[cascadiabound]

I am escorted into a palanquin, my chains, secure me to the interior. I may be all clean and dressed very prettily, but I am clearly property. And my new owner does not want me to escape enroute.

The number of men and guards around make me wonder, just who is this sheikh who now owns me? And what will be expected of me? But I push these thoughts out of my mind.

The Palanquin​

I peek out of the carriage and glimpse my love on the edge of the crowd. He is with me still. He will surely rescue me. I must be ready to do whatever I must to assist in my own rescue.

My knife is gone, but I still have the small vial of poisoned wine around my neck. I bring my shackled hands to my throat together to assure myself that it is still there.

As the sun sets, the caravan of camels, palanquins and guards comes to a halt. I take a deep breath, stealing myself for whatever comes next.

The palanquin comes to a rest. I hear the shouts, laughter, and unintelligible speech of many men and some few women as the preparations are made for the evening camp.

There is the settling of the guards. The arrangement of the camp is in defense. These people know their territory. Bandits and thieves can be anywhere.

After what seems an interminable amount of time, the door and curtain to the palanquin is pulled aside revealing the official looking man from the market and the bathhouse.

He unlocks my chains from the post in the palanquin and along with a guard wearing a sword and rifle escort me towards a largish colorful tent. There are additional guards outside it and what appears to be another female, ahead, also being escorted towards it.

 

[Mrtenant]

I exit the city trailing after your caravan. The sheikh who has purchased you is one of the wealthiest around. I will need some help.

As I approach the stables outside the city, looking for a mount to purchase, Antoine meets me there, on time. He is the best I have ever worked with.

Accompanying him is an Arab man, well dressed in his robes, tall, with chiseled features, dark hair accented with a hint of gray in his beard, along with a small escort of guards.

“You have some nerve coming back here after what you have done!” He starts. His anger at seeing me is evident and his guards place their hands on the hilts of their swords.

Antoine is clearly alarmed, believing I had miscalculated and that he has inadvertently brought trouble. He stands ready to defend me.

In a snarl, I answer, “If you had not been so busy having sex with your camel, it would not have been a problem!” my face reddening in anger.

His guards jump back, half drawing their swords. The leader, looks angry, then his scowl slowly changes to a grin and finally outright laughter. He runs up and hugs me tightly.

“Falcon! It is so good to see you! You have been missed my brother! You must come to my camp, we will celebrate your return with a celebration for many days. We will raid the other tribes as before, and plunder caravans. It will all be like it was when we were comrades in arms many moons ago!”

It is Sheikh Alafdahl, my strongest supporter from years gone by and one of my greatest friends.

Years ago, the Sheikh and his men had raided a caravan where I had been in chains, sold in the very market I had just left. At that time, I had no idea what was in store for me.

Along with the other slaves, we had been taken by his tribe for more slavery, apparently. They were not unkind.

An opportunity had arisen shortly thereafter where his camp was being raided. I took up arms and fought for the tribe.

My sword and pistol shots found many marks that day. I was freed immediately afterwards and admitted as part of the tribe.

For the next year, I rose to leadership as only a foreigner could do in these parts. They trusted my battle instincts and my strategems and the tribe grew wealthy.

Before returning to the sea, one escapade involved a rescue of the Sheikh and his advisers who had met with another tribe for trade negotiations.

The meeting had gone sour and they had been held for ransom. He owed me and it was time to collect against this debt.

After the formal greetings and introductions, I explain how I came to return to Egypt. My old friend is both incredulous and proud I would go to such measures to retrieve my love, and of course, the Sheikh agrees to help.

He commands his Lieutenant to summon the horde and to tell them the Falcon of the Desert has returned.

As fortune would have it, my quarry is Alafdahl's most hated rival, Sheikh Hamad. They are only too happy to help, and with rumors of my lead as warlord, they feel invincible.

The plan is to rendezvous within range of the enemy camp. Scouts are sent out to observe the disposition of Sheikh Hamad's camp.

Antoine, I command to return to the ship and bring twenty of our best fighters back to the converge with the desert horde before morning.

 

[cascadiabound]

It is so strange to be veiled. It obscures my vision, and everything is a bit in a haze because of it. This is worse now that it is dark and the only light is from the fires, torches and lanterns.

Likewise, I am unaccustomed to such sandals. They are so thin, and small pebbles get caught between the leather and my tender soles, causing pain as I walk.

It has been such a long day – I have not slept since the slavers’ mate announced the sighting of land, in spite of the Captain’s entreaty to rest.

My muscles, once strong, have grown weak during my captivity, being only allowed to walk from my small cabin the few paces to “share” a meal with my captor. I shiver with disgust recalling how these meals were always an excuse for his ogling and groping.

I stumble slightly in my golden chains, looking down, as I catch myself, upon the white gauzy fabric and robe the women have dressed me in.

It falls open easily, as I trip slightly in the unfamiliar shoes and clothes, my head woozy from lack of sustenance, and I become aware with a start that the garments are cut all the way to my hip. And while these fabrics are as fine as any I have ever worn, I am acutely aware I have been given no undergarments.

The cool night air on my bare nether regions shock my senses… I feel the heat of blush and quickly glance around, sure that everyone knows… and can see I am so lightly clad.

To add to my humiliation, I feel a sudden wetness between my legs, aroused simply by the erotic suggestion of the night air playing against my body.

If it is possible to blush more deeply, I am sure I do. And now… I am beyond grateful for the veil, hiding my face and my shame.

The guards on either side catch me and pull me back to my feet. I see we are headed towards a very large tent.

A few paces ahead of us is another woman, blonde, dressed much as I am, with guards on either side of her as well. I recognize her as the statuesque Russian from the auction.

I recall how she fought with the handlers and can only imagine that she will also be looking for an opportunity to escape, somehow. I am reminded of my vial around my neck as I see many casks of wine nearby.

 

[Susurration]

The intrigue continues... more water sweetheart?

Por favor .

This gets even better. I do like the nod to Lawrence of Arabia . This is developing very well, and I suspect the sheikh is about to make an appearance the arch villain .

 

[Farawyn]

*subscribed*

 

[cascadiabound]

Por favor .

of course sweetie. anything for you... one of our best fans.

This gets even better. I do like the nod to Lawrence of Arabia . This is developing very well, and I suspect the sheikh is about to make an appearance the arch villain .

I must give Mr T the credit for finding some of these fabulous images that just seem to make our little tale "sing"
Glad our little references to this and that are amusing

*subscribed*

Far!!! honey!!! so glad to see you!
Took you THIS long to toddle over to the PG and start reading?
As always, we are so grateful for your subscription. Anything we can get you?
A beer, a glass of wine perhaps? Some popcorn? Make yourself comfy.

Cascadia

 

[cascadiabound]

There is so much activity in this camp, it seems that some kind of festival preparations are being made. There are tents going up; food, water, and wine being prepared.

I can see a roast being prepared over an open flame. Its smell, savory and rich, reminds me suddenly of just how hungry I am. Several women sit around mixing some other foodstuffs in large bowls.

The wine and water are in casks nearby - just a quick five or six paces away. An idea comes quickly to mind, an idea that fills me with fear, yet, a chance that could be worthwhile for the evening to come. I loosen the top of my vial slightly, thinking perhaps my opportunity for a ruse will be at hand.

I will not want to miss it for being clumsy with my poison. I am filled with dread and fear at the idea of once again drugging myself into oblivion, especially in such a strange and alien land, but perhaps, just maybe, this will be a way out of this predicament.

At the entrance of the tent, a lavish affair, garish in colors and lit from within, the guards pause. I crane my neck trying to see in. I try to catch the eye of the other girl who is likewise paused between guards. She is looking straight ahead, almost as if she is not really looking at anything.

Inside there are low tables set up, and they are covered with food. There are more guards stationed at intervals along the cloth walls of the large space, each one armed with a long curved sword, some with pistols on their belts.

Women move about, bringing in more food and casks of wine. On the floor are large cushions for seating. There is a large painted screen in the back featuring elephants and lions, in a style unlike anything I have ever seen before. The colors bright and garish, but the design sophisticated in a surprising way.

In front of the screen is a very large rattan chair – it had the look of a throne almost. To one side is a beautiful olive skinned woman, young and obviously pregnant, wearing only a veil and a transparent skirt pooled around her graceful legs.

The guard’s hand on my elbow roughly pulls me forward. A low growl, heavily accented, but English, now in my ear…

”Come girl, we must not keep Sheikh Hamad waiting. He paid handsomely for you, he will want to get his money’s worth.”

I start in fear. Even on the plantation, from time to time, mariners and merchants had told tales of Sheikh Hamad, of his great wealth; of his cruelty; of his power and military might.

I feel my legs give out under me as the guard pulls me forward, once again. I nearly fall, tripping over my golden shackled feet and strange sandals.

“Clumsy wench!” he grunts through gritted teeth, yanking my arm so hard, it feels as if he would pull it out of my socket.

I yelp in pain. An older woman rushes forward at the sound of my pained cry and scowls at the guard. There is a torrent of unintelligible scolding, finally shaking her finger at him meaningfully, she shoos him away.

Taking me kindly by the arm, she settles me down on a nearby oversized soft cushion and calls to a young girl who shortly returns with food and drink for me. I smile at her gratefully.

 

[cascadiabound]

A handy set of links to individual story posts are being posted
and updated periodically. Click below to see where:

Links posted HERE to individual story posts​

 

[Mrtenant]

Shiekh Hamad the Cruel​

Sheikh Hamad! The stories about his cruelty, rampant throughout the civilized world, were only comparable to his vast wealth.

His tribe are horse breeders. The fame and elegance of horses from his stables are known far and wide. The secrets of his breeding stock are a closely guarded secret.

His cruelty? The stories ranged from public floggings, quartering, torture, crucifixion, and more. His sexual depravities were ghastly rumors. And to my horror, the love of my life is now his slave.

Sheikh Alafdahl and his men are intensely loyal to me, counting me as one of their brothers. They even think of me as something of a legend in daring deeds throughout the middle east.

Years ago we had sacked small towns, raided ships, plundered caravans and created a vast network throughout Egypt. Being Alafdahl’s Warlord gives me special status not normally afforded to anyone. His army is mine to command!

Our bitterest rival has always been Sheikh Hamad the Cruel. Alafdahl reminds me of the usual fate of Hamad’s slaves. If they were not sturdy or pliable enough, they were quite often savagely beaten and then distributed to the tribe for general ‘use’.

It sickens me to think my sweetheart is now in the clutches of this vile Hamad. Time is of the essence. She must be rescued, and quickly, in order to avoid such a fate.

I ride furiously through the early evening to catch up with the caravan. The Arabian horde and my sailors ride beside and around me. In contrast, Sheikh Hamad must travel slowly and eventually camp with his large caravan.GALLOPING HORSES(<<<click this link)

The scouts return after a couple hours of hard riding. They have located Hamad’s camp. It is just over the rise and down the canyon.

I call the horde to a halt, then make a few commands to wait for an hour while I scout alongside the scouts. I will leave nothing to chance. I will see for myself and decide what the best approach is for the success of your rescue.

I command my men to attack along with the rest of the horde if I have not returned to join them after an hour.

 

[Mrtenant]

We ride out to the canyon edge in mere minutes, and peer down at Hamad’s camp. Taking out my spyglass, I view the camp in great detail.

The defense is set up in the classical ring style. I note the prominent tents. One obviously must be Hamad’s command tent. Smaller tents are here and there, likely belonging to some officer or other.

The one near the rocks is obviously the women’s tent as evidenced by the hapless young woman slave being escorted yonder by the lone guard. Swiveling my spyglass once more across the rest of the camp, I quickly note little that surprises me or catches my eye as notable.

And then it occurs to me to look more closely at the slave under escort. It is you! And the guard is none too gentle, giving you the occasional shove and push.

My heart quickens and I gasp under my breath as I glimpse your beautiful face and form below me. That dress, hiding nothing, shows all your womanly charms, the veil covering your beautiful face, and light sandals cladding your pretty feet.

It is all I can do to contain myself and not leap immediately into battle against all of Hamad’s camp single handedly.

Reluctantly, I am pulled away by the scouts and we make our way back to the horde.

Already, my plan is coming together. With night approaching and celebration getting into full swing at Hamad’s camp, there will be wine and unwary guardsmen.

We will attack then with fire arrows and fury! My heart swells at the prospect of battle. A battle to claim my love at long last! My grin is fierce and determined as I ride with the scouts. It will be a day to remember!

 

[Susurration]

I see a dramatic battle on the horizon!

The pictures are wonderful and are really adding to this atmosphere. You're both doing a fantastic job with this story. Please keep going .

 

[Tallcajun]

I have catching up to do.

 

[cascadiabound]

I see a dramatic battle on the horizon!

Our damsel needs rescuing! No doubt a battle to retrieve her is in the offing!!!

The pictures are wonderful and are really adding to this atmosphere. You're both doing a fantastic job with this story. Please keep going .

Thank you so much for the encouragement, Suss! Glad you are enjoying our efforts.

I have catching up to do.

Hey TC! Missed you. The story keeps unfolding. A new post every day! Kisses.

 

[cascadiabound]

I start eating the food, my hunger overcoming all else. The bowl of savory mutton and bread is the best thing I have been offered in many months and I eat ravenously.

Next to me, the Russian girl also eats but with caution as she is constantly scanning the tent, carefully noting the guards and their positions. I am nearly full, with my bowl still half full of the delicious food, when there is a stir at the tent entrance.

A large man, dressed in elegant robes and an embroidered cloak featuring a stylized horse theme, enters with a large retinue of other men, servants, courtesans, and, advisors? I knew not, exactly. In a flash I knew, undoubtedly this is the legendary Sheikh Hamad. His cruel eyes fall upon me, and I hear his snarl of displeasure.

A moment later one of his men is before me knocking the bowl out of my hand, sending it skittering to the edge of the tent. Likewise, the Russian girl’s food is sent flying.

Seconds later I see his hand on its way to connect with my face. I duck and cower in fear, his hand checked just in time by a sharp command by the Sheikh. Perhaps he paid enough for me, he does not want his property damaged just yet, I think.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see the proud Russian girl’s eyebrow rise slightly. A moment later, the guard behind us shoves me with his heavy boot, nudging me to stand.

The other women and servants are all standing at attention by now and I hasten to do likewise. I do not want to call undue attention to myself in the court of the Sheikh. Being a white girl was going to call enough attention as it is. I do not want him to think me disrespectful.

The Sheikh takes his throne, settling himself heavily and looking around the tent with a bit of disdain. Once seated, I observe one of his henchmen make a small hand signal.

And suddenly, all around me cushions are re-occupied with seated men, courtesans and warriors. In turn, the women and servants resume their duties, scurrying with plates of food and wine.

Sheikh Hamad is surrounded by a retinue of men in various styles of dress, all of them strange to my eyes. From under my veil, I try to guess who they are to him.

Some are dressed in very fancy silks, others are clearly warriors, large swords hanging off their belts and heavy leather armor. Others appear to be older merchants or advisors of some kind.

The beautiful young olive-skinned pregnant woman feeds the Sheikh with her delicate fingers, the very best of the foods that have been prepared, bite by bite. She seems very practiced at this.

Hamad hardly notices she is feeding him, tending to his need without him having to direct or command her. From time to time he licks her fingers, and he brushes against her full breasts, the large dark nipples protruding.

I can hardly take my eyes from her. Her exotic features, her revealing clothes, and then, the fact she was with child – altogether she is a remarkable beauty.

Then the meeting seems to be over. Hamad speaks brusquely to one of the attendees, a soldier – the one who seems to be of the highest rank of the group.

He turns and moves towards me, clearly on the Shiehk’s order. Instinctively, I shrink in fear, and then breathe with relief as I realize that he is not coming for me. Instead, he is pulling the beautiful Slavic girl to her feet.

 

[Susurration]

The Sheikh and his entourage are so well described, especially in terms of their malevolence and the fear that they cause. This is building up very well indeed .

 

[cascadiabound]

The Sheikh and his entourage are so well described, especially in terms of their malevolence and the fear that they cause. This is building up very well indeed .

Suss ~ I hereby christen you our "super fan"! Love you so much!
Stand by... I believe the girls have reason to be concerned.

As always, Mr T and I continue to be grateful for all of our readers. We know y'all are out there.

Cascadia

 

[cascadiabound]

The Slavic girl stands proudly, and, though I do not know how this could be, fearlessly. Wide eyed, I scan the room for what will happen next.

And I watch, almost with horror, as the pregnant slave girl reaches into Hamad’s robes and exposes his very large, dark member. From my cushion so close to the throne, I can make out the individual hairs (of which there are many) and see it become larger in the small hand of the girl.

I had never seen a man’s penis before, and I could feel my eyes grow even wider as it became engorged and darker. Of course, I had changed many an infant’s diaper...but this was a different thing entirely!

The girl beckons the Russian slave forward, and when she does not comply immediately, the Sheikh growls something unintelligible. Suddenly everything moves very fast!

Two guards take the recalcitrant Russian in hand, roughly grabbing her by her arms and neck, pushing her forward to the Sheikh. Hamad looks at her with a cruel smirk. The olive skinned beauty, his cock in her hand, says,

“This is your lord and master's sword - suckle it and worship it. Prove your adoration with your slave mouth. He wishes to test his purchase - do NOT disappoint him.”

Her English is clear and only slightly accented and her meaning is not lost on me.

I realize it is only my good luck that it is the Russian girl, and not me, who is chosen this night to perform first for our new master.

The idea I will be asked to (I cannot even bear to think the thought of it... to put my mouth on... that... on... his... ) I feel the bile rising in my throat - and I wish I had eaten less mutton and bread.

For a moment, I fear I may never have an appetite again. And yet, the scene is intoxicating to me. I cannot take my eyes from his exposed manhood.

I watch to see what happens next as I feel a combination of fear, humiliation and arousal mingling in my belly and a wetness between my thighs that is, frankly, mystifying to me.

This man... my new owner, terrifies me - he is so much worse than the Spanish slavers who have been groping and ogling me for weeks - and yet I find my body responding - these strange clothes - the lack of undergarments, the veil, all of the careful preparations, bathing and lotions this afternoon - in a strange way, I have never felt more beautiful - and I have never wanted to be more invisible, at one and the same time.

My mind wanders from the scene with the sensations in my body and suddenly I am aware of a commotion - what has happened? I had seen the blonde Slavic girl kneel to take his member into her mouth as she had been directed - I am only able to see her back from my vantage.

She seems to lunge forward suddenly, and then the Sheikh is yelling and cursing at her as he hits her across the face. SHEIKH YELLS(<<<click this link) She goes down, hitting the ground hard. Oh my goodness - SHE BIT HIM!!!!

In a flash, the guards are on her in spite of her kicking and screaming, thrashing out every which way, there are so many men, and so powerful, it takes but a few moments and she is chained to a post in the middle of the tent.

Her arms are secure high above her head and her clothes, just like the ones I now wear - in the melee - RIPPING(<<<click this link) they had stripped her of them. Now completely naked and helpless before the assembled throng she struggled to maintain her composure.

 

[Susurration]

That was one heck of a yell !.

She's certainly let him know that he just can't go around exploiting women like that, but I fear for the consequences for her. Let's hope rescue comes soon and give her and the other women a chance to get even with the vile sheikh and escape.

 

[cascadiabound]

That was one heck of a yell !.

No doubt any man is such a position would emit a blood curdling yell deserved or not.

She's certainly let him know that he just can't go around exploiting women like that, but I fear for the consequences for her. Let's hope rescue comes soon and give her and the other women a chance to get even with the vile sheikh and escape.

Our girl is certainly counting on our hero to show up soon! Keep your fingers crossed!

 

[cascadiabound]

I cannot help but stare at the Russian girl. Her small perky breasts are high on her chest, with a flat belly and perfect thighs.

The curve of her back and bottom are more elegant than my father's most prized wine pitcher. Where her legs meet there is just a wisp of gold. Even trussed like a common criminal and snarling like a cornered weasel, she is the most beautiful girl I have ever seen.

The Sheikh, having recovered his composure walks with a purpose towards the girl. I am so captivated by her beauty, he is suddenly within 3 paces of her before I realize his intent.

He has stripped down to his riding pants and wields a wicked whip. A moment later it cracks against her back and breaks the perfect white skin.

I cannot help myself. I cry out - in anguish. In fear. In horror. I had seen the black slaves whipped on the plantation - but I had never seen a young white girl whipped. It is...indescribable. WHIPPING(<<<click this link)

I lose track of how many times the whip comes down on her body. I am sure that her screams meld with my own. By the time he stops I am afraid she has lost consciousness as she no longer cries out.

She slumps against her chains. Her back, bottom, thighs and calves are a mess of bleeding red lines crossing each other in an ugly and cruel way. I fear they will heal very badly. Silently, tears stream down my face.

And then... the pregnant girl takes me by the hand pulling me from the cushion where I had not dared move in many many minutes. In English she instructs me to prepare wine for my master and lord, and then go to the women's slave tent. It is all I can do to obey.

I cast quickly around for the wine cask and my master’s cup. I fill the cup and then kneel with it at his feet as he sits down heavily again in his throne. He is exhausted from the beating he has administered. I do not make eye contact.

As soon as he takes the cup from my hands, I scurry backwards away from him. Moments later, I am outside of the tent being pulled and shoved along by one of the guards I remember from earlier. I suppose, taking me to the women's tent.

 

[Tallcajun]

A sassy, sexy twist in the story.
CB and MrT, very nice work. Love the pics.