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Katherine met the emir while she was on an internship in Dubai a few months after her graduation from the University of Southern California. At least he styles himself as an emir, claiming a title that's traditional in his country for a man of wealth and honored lineage even though he's not the head of any state.
Gorgeous, intelligent and vivacious, Katherine had been a cheerleader at USC while earning her degree in media communications. She had high standards for her boyfriends and had planned to put off marriage until she was thirty. "At least thirty," she'd laughed with her friends. But the emir swept her off her feet with his old-fashioned manners and charm, his lavish gifts, and the tastes he gave her of a high-fashion jet-set lifestyle.
Dark and lean, the emir is fourteen years older than Katherine - more mature but still in his vigorous prime. He promised to spoil her and to provide the resources to live the dream she expressed to him of making a real difference in the world through charity work, in return for the loyalty that's traditional and expected in his country. And Katherine knew he had connections with Al-Jevidyo, the rapidly growing media enterprise in his country that would soon be launching an English-language service with global reach. She agreed to marry the emir only months after they'd met, and even intended to keep her side of their arrangement.
Her suave husband doted on Katherine, showering her with fabulous jewelry, introducing her to celebrities, tycoons, and royalty, allowing her the use of his private jet and her own security detail. He commissioned European designers to create party gowns and casual wear to suit her five-foot-eight inch frame. While slim and athletic Katherine was larger in the bust and a little more curvy in the hip than a typical runway model.
But after the honeymoon and the first few amorous weeks, cracks in their relationship began to appear. The emir preferred that his wife not work for pay and declined to use his connections to help Katherine get on the air with Al-Jevidyo. And his sexual desires were kinkier than she may have realized.
At first she'd found being with him to be exciting and adventurous. But after they'd been married Katherine started to feel uncomfortable with his intimate requests, sometimes even a little disgusted. The emir explored her limits, though ultimately he respected them. But within months he began also to withdraw from her, spending more and more nights away from their shared bedroom.
He had made clear that in his culture it was not a wife's place to question her husband about his comings and goings. But Katherine knew there was a playroom in the far wing of the emir's palatial home, where he was rumored to have spent wild nights back his bachelor days. She assumed that her husband was spending many of his nights there again now, indulging his wilder passions with prostitutes.
He said that she was welcome to join him in the playroom and Katherine did allow him to lead her there, once. It had been just the two of them in the large room, richly appointed but windowless and strangely furnished. Moonlight had beamed down through skylights to supplement the warm glow of electronic candles, and soft music had filled an atmosphere that was thick with exotic scents. But despite the emir's effort to make her introduction to this private world romantic and pleasurable for her Katherine had felt creeped out, and she'd had to leave. Now she avoided that whole wing of his home as much as she could.
Katherine mostly tried not to think about her husband's playroom activities even as his visits to their shared bedroom declined from nightly to weekly. She was jealous and embarrassed but also a little relieved that somebody else was taking care of those things for him. The continuing flow of jewels and clothes helped her to ignore his increasingly regular absence from their bed.
She threw her energy into genteel pursuits like horses, and into exercise. Stepping out of her marble shower one day Katherine looked herself up and down in a mirror and had to admit: she was sexier than ever. Seating herself in front of the mirror she threw one long shapely leg over an arm of the chair. With her fingertips she softly teased her pink nipples and shaved pussy for a while, watching herself in the mirror. Then she reached into a drawer for a slim, ladylike vibrator that was just one of her growing collection of sex toys, and pleasured herself.
There had been a real spark between Katherine and the emir at the start, but by their third anniversary weeks could pass between their intimate encounters. Katherine's main role in their marriage became merely to serve as the emir's sparkling arm-candy whenever he called for her.
Her charity foundation just never seemed to take off, and Katherine became terribly bored. She had always attracted the attention of men when she travelled without the emir, to equestrian meets around his homeland or to fashion shows in Europe. But she had always brushed them off. In her boredom she started flirting and found that she enjoyed teasing her would-be paramours a little further along each time.
One day in the spa room of the emir's home and unexpectedly, a new masseuse introduced herself to Katherine. Old Ebba, a strong and very skilled but dowdy Swede, had been replaced by Alya, a local woman with curly dark hair. The new girl was much younger than Ebba and quite attractive, with a twinkle in her dark eyes. Katherine knew the emir only retained people who were highly proficient in their duties so she didn't hesitate for long before climbing onto the massage table and allowing the young woman to work on her. Soon Katherine felt, without surprise, that Alya was very skilled as well and began to let her mind wander as stress and stiffness were kneaded from her muscles.
After some time Katherine became alert again as she realized Alya was touching her differently, in an almost erotic manner. "What are you doing?"
With her lips near Katherine's ear Alya answered softly, as though she were sharing a secret. "I feel you have more stress, ma'am. It is tied up deep inside. I can help you to release it." With feathery fingers she stroked the curves of Katherine's hips.
Katherine sat up and turned around, clutching a towel to her bare breasts. "I don't know who the hell you think gave you the right, but I don't want to see you again. Tell the butler I want Ebba, or someone else who understands respect."
Alya's smile barely wavered. "It's ok, ma'am. I mean no disrespect. Here, this is the way. The men they sometimes are too busy with their business and their friends. Often-times a noble wife will permit her servant to give her what every woman needs..."
"Yes ma'am." Without haste or shame Alya gathered her things and left the spa room.
Katherine sat on the table for a while, stewing. Then she reached into a drawer for a toy that she kept handy there. She ran the little vibrator gently up and down the folds of her pussy, and touched it to her pink clitty. When she wiggled just the tip between her tender petals Katherine closed her eyes and imagined that the vibe was Alya's clever, obedient tongue. When she pressed it to her love-button she came hard in moments.
The next time Katherine travelled on her own she met a chic young Italian, an art dealer who she found too sexy to resist. But she hadn't realized that she'd been running on a long but unbreakable leash. The first time the emir's wife actually allowed another man into her bed she was caught immediately, since her security detail still answered to her husband and not to herself.
When the emir appeared in her hotel suite the next evening to confront her Katherine's frustration and jealousy boiled over. When told to beg for forgiveness she lashed out in anger instead, accusing her husband of perversion and infidelity and insulting him.
He was aghast at her insolence. "Have you gone mad?" he exclaimed, rising from his chair. "I could offer you a way to repent..."
"Stick your 'repentance' up your ass! Just go back to your whores, they'll help you get over me in no time I'm sure."
"My grandfather would have had you drawn and quartered!" the emir cried out. "Or broken on a wheel!"
"Well like people keep saying: you're not your grandfather!" she mocked him. "And maybe check a calendar. It's the 21st century, asshole! People don't do that shit anymore!"
Katherine walked away from the emir's wealth that night, only throwing a few favorite dresses and the jewelry she had with her into a bag before catching a flight back to LA. She congratulated herself for acting like a righteous modern woman.
A month later Katherine was walking in Santa Ana and texting on her phone with an agent. She was still young, and looked great! She could still jump-start the media career that she'd planned on back at USC. But she wasn't going to start out now as a weather girl in Fresno. Katherine had to make a splash somehow, to make up for lost time.
She wanted to write a tell-all memoir, but was in too much of a hurry to do a book. Could the agent line up a big feature article in one of the national weeklies, and a publicity tour to match? The pitch for the story was: 'How I escaped becoming the harem slave of a cruel oil sheikh.' No that's not the title; that's the pitch. Let the writer come up with a title. Would Katherine do a photo shoot in harem costume? Well, if it was tasteful. No nipple.
Focused on her phone and her bright future as she turned a corner Katherine walked into a chloroform pad.
Katherine's eyes opened and she looked around groggily. A veiled stewardess was belting her into a reclining seat in a small jet. "Thank you, but why are you belting my wrists, too?" she mumbled like a drunk. The stewardess just tipped a glass of water to Katherine's lips then poked a needle into her arm, and she went back to sleep...
Her eyes opened briefly. They looked up at a white ceiling and fluorescent lights that moved overhead. She was rolling along some kind of institutional corridor....
Katherine awakened to the beeps of hospital equipment. She felt as if she was floating on an opiate cloud. There was a tube in her nose and her whole body was pain. But it was drowned in the medications and she couldn't really make herself care about any it. A dark-haired orderly entered her room, adjusted some equipment and she drifted off again....
She was awakened by someone changing her catheter a bit clumsily and turned her head to look around. It was a hospital room, but what was this? The bare sole of a foot, right next to her face? She turned her head and there was another foot at the other side. "How odd," was all she could think, before drifting off again...
Katherine woke up again, this time in the dark. She was wearing a blindfold, she realized after a while, and it felt as though many hands were fumbling around and manipulating her body. The flow of drugs had been stopped a few hours before and she continued very slowly to become alert. The sharp pains were gone but her body was still very sore, at so many different points that it was hard to focus on any one of them.
There were people all around her speaking Arabic, of which she'd learned a little, discussing some kind of project. It sounded as if they were arguing over how to assemble a piece of furniture. She couldn't seem to move much, only turn her head and wiggle her hands and feet. And her whole body felt.....it was hard to visualize, but she felt crumpled up like a ball of tin foil.
Her mind was still hobbled by the sedatives and none of this seemed like a reason to panic. When she tried to ask what had happened a plastic ball-gag was forced into her mouth, and she accepted it pliantly. Then she was lifted - her body supported on a frame - carried for a while, and placed on a thinly padded floor before the frame was strapped down. A motor started and Katherine realized she was being transferred somewhere in the back of a van.
"It is so, so good to see you again my dear." Katherine heard the emir's smooth baritone, but there was no warmth in it. She had been carried out of the van and set upright; then she'd heard the sound of electric tools working near her head and around her body. "Let me see those lovely green eyes."
The emir peeled off the blindfold and Katherine saw his handsome face. Looking past him she saw that they were in the playroom. It was near midday, and sunlight beamed down through the skylights. Her eyes told her that her back was to the wall, but her body felt differently. She looked down and saw her naked breasts. Nothing else she saw made any sense. The sedatives and the disorientation from her long sleep were finally clearing now, and a sense of dread was building in her gut.
"You were right," the emir said calmly, lifting her chin and stroking her cheek and hair. "I couldn't have you drawn-and-quartered. Today that'd be called murder, even for an unfaithful slut of a wife. And I'm not my grandfather. My grandfather couldn't call upon the services of modern medicine."
Stepping back he called to the only other person in the room: a slim olive-skinned woman with purplish-black hair cut in bangs, and black lipstick that glinted with iridescence. She was dressed like a fetish model, in shiny black leather costume with a long skirt of transparent silk that was split in front and back revealing her leather thong. Katherine had seen her before - though never dressed like this - slinking around the playroom wing. The emir had a large household staff but Katherine assumed that the black-lipped bitch was just one of his regular whores.
"Odi, the mirror." The lithe, dark woman turned a full-length mirror in an ornate frame so that Katherine could see herself clearly. What she saw was difficult to process but slowly her eyes bugged and her guts clenched.
"Breaking you on the wheel would have been murder too, if I'd done it the old way. But as you said, this is the 21st century. My lawyers tell me that when you signed the papers for your little breast lift and lip plumping, your signature could be interpreted as giving authority to perform other...cosmetic procedures. They say that what I've had done to you is entirely legal. At least in this country." The emir was gloating a little now.
"I have always wanted the best for you, so I flew in one of the finest orthopedic surgeons in the world. He dislocated your hips and shoulders, your elbows and knees, and broke each one of your long bones. With great precision and care of course, to minimize injury to the soft tissues. He set each joint and break with pins and rods, at the angles we'd carefully planned. That was eight weeks ago. Your bones have been knitting and the joints have begun to ossify. What you see is by now irreversible."
Katherine's limbs were all unnaturally bent and twisted, entwined among the spokes of a white wheel about five feet in diameter and trimmed with gold. Her ankles and wrists were clamped in gilt manacles to the wood of the wheel, and a wide belt of white leather gripped her waist tightly near the wheel's hub. Most of her weight was carried on her limbs, which were woven in and out among the spokes. Not haphazardly, but in a careful design that was symmetrical on either side.
"Welcome home, dear. It's been too long since I had the opportunity to fulfill my marital duties to you." He pulled out his hard cock, and rubbed Katherine's labia with his thumb. Her pelvis was tilted by her contortion and her holes thrust forward, almost inviting his touch. Her tears began to flow.
The emir spit into his other hand, and used the spittle to moisten his cock. "But I have no more interest in your debased cunt, since you allowed that common gigolo to pollute it."
Her asshole was held at a height and angle that suited the emir's penetration, and he drove into it. Half the length of his barely-moistened cock at the first plunge. Katherine grunted into her gag, then began to whimper piteously as he worked it slowly deeper.
"Still tight here, I see. It doesn't feel like you let your toy-boy into your ass, either. That's good." When his full length was buried in Katherine's ass the emir reached up with both hands and took a firm grip on her perfect tits as he continued to slowly ream her, using them to pull himself toward her on the in-stroke. "Your cunny... maybe I should have it sewn up. Or maybe stretch it out, slowly, until it gapes like the hungry whore-cunt we both know it to be? We shall see."
"The rest of you will be well cared for. You will be fed fine and healthy foods, pureed and through a tube if need be. You will be cleaned daily, inside and out, and have your hair dressed. Your beautiful face and the skin of your body will be pampered with lotions and perfumed. Your limbs will be massaged with fine oils, to ease your stress and to ensure the flow of blood. You will live a long life, right here. We still have many years ahead of us together." Katherine began to be wracked with little sobs, and the emir timed his strokes with them.
"I will return to you all the jewels that you left behind here. You are the wife of an emir and you will look the part!" His pace was quickening now, and he reached down to grasp the spokes of the wheel as he thrust into her. "I will pierce your body, and your face, and have your jewels reworked into new settings that I will commission to hang all over you... There will be rings on your fingers and your toes... and bright gems on golden chains around your neck... and on your... breasts...."
He pulled himself into her to the hilt and grunted, and Katherine felt his warm seed flood her bowel. For a little while he stood still, and the only sounds in the room were his heavy breathing and her soft weeping.
Then he withdrew his cock and with one hand turned the wheel. It spun on the wall like a carnival game until Katherine hung inverted with her long hair hanging below her. The emir's stinking, softening cock was in front of her face. Above, he watched for a moment at close range as her asshole puckered, trying to expel his bubbly cum.
Then he reached down and removed the ball gag. "Clean me, wife."
"...kaah....fuuckkk.....you fuck.....you fucker how could you DO this....you FUCK...you fucking..FUCK!!...you MONSTER!!....I'll..."
The emir replaced the ball gag and turned away as she tossed her long dangling hair ineffectually. "Odi, I have no more patience for this vain, ungrateful slut. Teach her how an emir is properly addressed."
"With pleasure, my lord," the slim dark woman purred. Then without command she sank to her knees, and licked his dirty cock up and down before taking its still-chubby length down her throat.
"She will be wanting her morphine soon, too. Make her beg for it. Then give her only enough to ease her need. We will wean her of that. I want her clear-headed from now on."
Odi pulled herself off of his member slowly, squeezing her black lips tight as she went to wipe him dry. Then she rose gracefully to her feet. "It will be as you desire, Emir."
Many hours later, nearly midnight, the emir was reading in his study when Odi appeared beside his wing-backed chair. He nearly jumped in surprise. The woman moved like an assassin.
"Your pardon, Emir. Your wife has something to say to you."
He strode back into the playroom with Odi behind his shoulder, his Gucci shoes clicking on the marble floor and her diaphanous skirt fluttering like the wings of a dark butterfly. The room was once again lit by dozens of electronic candles.
Katherine hung upright in her wheel: a set of holes, a pair of tits, and a tired, pretty face, all amidst a geometric knot of limbs.
The gag was gone and her eyes were dry, but red. The emir saw that her breasts and pubic area and the soles of her feet were all deep pink in color, and her most delicate tissues were inflamed. But there were no clumsy bruises or stripes. Odi was quite skilled. He should have introduced Katherine to her long ago.
"Well, speak, my dear wife!" the emir said, blood flowing to his cock at the sight of her. "It's getting late."
Katherine held his gaze but with broken eyes, and her lip trembled. "You are merciful, Emir. Thank you for sparing me from the painful death that an adulterous wife deserves."
"You are welcome. Is that all?"
"May your wife show her renewed devotion to you...by servicing your noble cock?"
A little smile finally began to break out across the emir's lips.
"Tomorrow, darling. It is late. And we have all the time in the world."