Chapter 16

Janna

Wow. Just wow. My head’s spinning as I walk away from Jasim. How he’d been summoned I’m not too sure, but a security guard is waiting for me outside, and explains in quite good English that he’ll take me to my accommodation. Gratefully following him through the ornate corridors of the palace, I reflect I hadn’t much expectation of the outcome when I’d challenged Jasim, but I had never dreamed it might go the way that it had.

If I can believe him, he’s planning to take my virginity, and then initiate me into the way he likes to have sex. While my first thought is only of pleasure, there are a few doubts niggling at the back of my mind as to what exactly I’ve signed on for and whether I’ll be enough for him. I’ve read, a lot. And there’s no denying what’s always turned me on is a woman giving herself over a man’s care, letting him take her to her limits. And that Jasim is quite clearly prepared to do. And perhaps beyond. What exactly is he intending? A shiver of anticipation runs through me, the slight tinge of accompanying fear sending a feeling of arousal heading south. Whatever it is, the thought of him taking charge is turning me on. Not that I’ve really been turned off since first meeting Jasim.

When the guard stops in front of a door, indicating we’ve reached our destination, I thank him distractedly, and walk inside. It seems Sally and I have been given a luxurious suite; a central sitting room, with bedrooms off to either side. Sally is sitting at a table, helping herself to food from a buffet which has obviously recently been delivered.

She looks up when I enter, and hastily swallows her mouthful of food. “Hey, how did you get on? Did you catch up with your sheikh? I know that’s what you were running off to do.” She smiles knowingly.

As I’m having difficulty processing what occurred myself, I don’t feel like rehashing the conversation with her. My answer is friendly enough, but concise and dismissive, “Yes, I did. We cleared the air.”

Cleared the air? Set it on fire more like.

It seems my answer’s sufficient for her, she resumes stuffing her mouth with what appears to be delicious looking food, “Mmm. Come try this. It’s fantastic.”

My appetite for food seems to have diminished in proportion to my desire for Jasim, which has ramped up to an almost unbearable level. What’s he planning? And when? How long will I have to wait? He said losing my virginity should be special. Just how is he going to go about it?

To attempt to be sociable, I go and sit with her, and despite my lack of hunger, take a pastry and place it on a plate. My fingers toy with it for a moment.

“Did the sheikh say anything about when we’ll be able to start filming?”

“No, we didn’t discuss anything like that.” The reason behind us coming here had been the last thing on my mind.

“It’s great, isn’t it? Exotic. I wonder if they’ll be able to make it play out the way we had planned.”

Shaking my head, I respond honestly, “I don’t know, but no one has said it won’t work.”

“Hmm, desert sheikhs and tribesmen on their horses.” Sally licks her lips, but whether to clean up after eating her food, or if her mouth’s watering at the romantic thought, I can’t be sure.

We hear nothing further that evening. A guard comes to offer us a tour of the grounds, and then we eat dinner in a small dining room all by ourselves. When I retire to bed, it’s hard to stop my thoughts racing.

When morning comes, I’m still weary, having had little sleep.

Breakfast is delivered, and while we’re still eating, a knock sounds on the door. I go to open it, and find the English bodyguard who I remember had been there to meet Jasim off the plane.

“Hi, I’m Ryan. I’m a Close Protection Officer. Jasim’s bodyguard.”

Nodding to show I’d recognized know who he was, I step aside to allow him to come in. His eyes flick to Sally, and he gives her an appreciative nod. She preens in response. Hmm.

“The scene you want filmed,” he starts, his voice deep and low, “it’s been set up for later today. Sheikh Rais, the leader of the desert sheikhs, has agreed it can be staged near one of his encampments.” He dips his head toward Sally. “You wanted it at sunset, I believe? To get the best light?”

Her eyes light up. “I want the sun setting over sand dunes. Are there any there?”

Ryan chuckles. “More than you can shake a stick at.”

She’s fidgeting, as if already excited. “I’d like some time to choose the right spot. Perhaps do a practice shoot?”

“Hey,” I butt in, “I’m the one who’ll be running my butt off in this heat. I only want one take.”

“Spoilsport.” She pouts, flicking her long blond hair over her shoulder, but then she grins, “Just get me some time to set up the camera. I’ll need to know exactly where to position it to get the best shot.”

Ryan’s taking it all in. “It’s all in hand. You’ll be leaving at midday. It’s a couple of hours Jeep ride from here. There’ll be plenty of time to get organized. Rais’s men will be on hand to give you advice.” He turns to me. “Lamis, who you met yesterday? She’s Cara’s maid when she’s in residence here. She’s going to bring along a selection of clothes.”

“I brought something with me that would be suitable.” I’m not sure why I’d need more.

With a slightly cagey look, as though he knows something I don’t, Ryan shakes his head. “Yeah, but you want to look authentic, don’t you?”

I give a little shake of my head. “Okay.” I agree, maybe Lamis will come up with something I haven’t thought of wearing. It couldn’t hurt to see what’s on offer.

But though we wait all morning, Lamis doesn’t appear. Gathering up some fresh shalwar kameez and thaub, I go and dress in the light trousers and tunic that I’d originally planned to wear, and make myself ready for the journey. Surprisingly, Sally dresses the same, the light blue she’s chosen complimenting her fair complexion. Before she puts on a hijab, she ties her long hair into a bun.

When I grin at her, she looks at me and shrugs, “When you’re in the desert, look the part.”

The guard comes to collect us, and yet again leads us through the winding maze of corridors and out to the front of the palace. I take a moment to admire the façade, it’s an incredible building. Ryan approaches, and sees my looks of veneration.

“Some parts are over a thousand years old,” he tells me. “It’s an impressive sight, isn’t it?”

It certainly is, and so much history here. “Is there a harem here too?” I wonder out loud, and am surprised when Ryan gives a belly laugh.

“There certainly is,” he replies, the words stammered out through his chuckles.

I feel my face flush, his amusement making me wonder whether it’s that part of the palace that’s been converted into a dungeon.

And then every other thought flees my mind as my sheikh appears, his robes billowing around him in the hot desert breeze. Immediately, I squeeze my legs together in a vain attempt to ease the ache there.

He spares me a nod, and his lips curl a little, but though he’s acknowledged me, he doesn’t come over. A parade of Jeeps turns up, as if summoned by an invisible signal. Ryan goes to join Jasim in the first, Sally and I are directed to the second.

There’s no road to follow, as we weave our way over the sand. Our driver speaks decent English, and as he makes yet another turn on what I only see as unbroken terrain, he explains he’s avoiding patches of quick sand.

“How do you even know where to go?”

When he points to the GPS I feel stupid, and disappointed, expecting him to tell me it’s his innate instinct and mystical knowledge of the desert. But then feel somewhat vindicated, when he explains, “Quick sand isn’t marked, but I know what I’m looking for. See?” I follow where he’s pointing, but can’t see anything different in the ground. “There’s a patch of quick sand there.”

Suppressing a shudder, I’m glad it’s him driving.

We pass a herd of gazelle, see vultures hovering in the air, but there’s not much variety in the scenery except for dune after dune. There’s so much sand beneath us, broken only for a fleeting period where the ground becomes hard packed and rocky. The purr of the engine and my lack of sleep the night before, makes me doze off. I’m woken when the Jeep comes to a halt, and it appears we’ve arrived.

The driver opens our door. As I step down onto the baking sand, I see Jasim’s already out of the vehicle in front, and is walking forward to meet one of the fiercest looking men I have ever seen in my life. He’s even taller than Jasim. Sally and I look at each other, and exchange nervous smiles.

Jasim and the stranger approach us.

“Sally, Janna. This is Sheikh Rais, leader of the desert sheikhs.”

I can see why, no one would want take him on to challenge him for the title. But the big man’s face softens when he gives us a genuine smile, “Welcome to my desert home.”

He takes our hands in turn, bowing over and placing a kiss on the back, his rough exterior seeming to hide an amorous side beneath.

Jasim shoos him away from me, putting himself almost protectively between us.

Rais raises an eyebrow, and gives a smirk, then his arm gestures with a flourish behind him. “Come, take some refreshment, and then we’ll go out to the site I believe will suit your needs.”

My attention is drawn to what appears to be a large tent standing slightly apart from about twenty or thirty others which together make up a small settlement surrounding an oasis. The sight of the palm trees giving a welcome flash of green. Noting the ill-concealed curiosity of the tribespeople, and acknowledging them with a smile, I follow Sally and the men and enter the big black tent, immediately seeing it’s set up for meetings with a dais at the back. Now, however, there’s a low table with cushions around it, and fruit drinks in jugs with various snacks set out around.

While we eat and drink, Sally quickly overcomes her apprehension of the ferocious looking sheikh, and starts asking him questions.

“Is this all your tribe?”

Quickly he shakes his head, “This is one of our bases. Many of the Hami, my tribe, are nomadic.”

“And horses? We asked for horses?” her mouth turns down as she realizes what’s missing.

Rais laughs, “They’ll be here shortly. Do not worry about that.”

The sheikh seems happy to answer when she gets back onto the theme of how they eke a meagre living from the barren looking land, and my interest perks when she starts asking about schools and medical care.

“The money from the oil will help provide mobile teachers and doctors,” Rais tells her enthusiastically, pointing to Jasim, “And that’s down to you, Sheikh, to make sure that goes smoothly.”

I hadn’t realized what Jasim did for a living, so listen intently as he updates Rais as to where he is in negotiations with OPEC. Wow, I knew he was a diplomatic, and an owner of a BDSM club, but I hadn’t appreciated he also was responsible for the country’s oil industry.

Our discussion is interrupted when we hear more vehicles arriving, and voices shouting outside. Rais indicates we should finish our drinks—some delicious fruit concoction— and follow him. We step outside into the heat to find men are already busy unloading horse boxes; there must be thirty animals in all. A makeshift corral is hastily assembled, and the animals herded into it. Rais explains they’re accustomed to moving horses around, as tribes often race against each other.

“I hear your champion got beaten. At Kadar’s wedding?” Jasim nudges his friend, who quickly spins around.

“Fucking biker from Arizona,” he snarls. And then as quickly grins, “Never thought I would see anything like that. Left a bad taste in the mouth.”

Not understanding what they’re talking about, I watch the men sorting out the horses, admiring their efficiency in doing so. Suddenly it hits, me all these large beasts are going to be chasing after me. Hmm, I hope they know what they’re doing. I swallow rapidly at the thought of them running me down. I hope they’ve got good brakes.

A woman appears from behind one of the other Jeeps. As she approaches me, I recognize Lamis. She gives a dip of her head to Jasim who responds in kind, then, shielding his eyes, glances up at the sky. Seeming satisfied, he then nods toward myself and Sally.

“Lamis, can you take Janna and help her prepare?” Without waiting for her agreement, he turns to the videographer. “Sally, Rais and I will take you to the site so you can set up the camera. Times getting on now, the horses will be getting prepared and we can plan how exactly this will go down.”

I’d rather have gone with Jasim, but I have my part to play, so after allowing myself a lingering glance full of longing as he retreats with Sally, I follow Lamis into a tent. It’s clean and tidy inside, and someone has obviously recently vacated it to give me a private place to change. Not that I think I need to do so, but Lamis is pulling garments out of a bag.

I wave down at my clothing, “I thought this was quite adequate?”

The maid has an unreadable smile on her face, “The sheikh suggested you wear. Will look good for camera.” As I wonder what Jasim knows about filming and what will look good on screen, while thinking what do I really know about him as I didn’t even know about his involvement in the oil business, she shakes out a snowy white dress. It’s silk with a long light and almost sheer train which will billow out behind me as I run. The sleeves are full, and pulled in at the wrists. It’s a parody of a Western wedding dress, with a flavor of Arabic.

Almost afraid to touch it, I reach out my hand, pulling the material through my fingers. It must have cost a fortune, the embroidery so ornate, and there are little crystals sewn into it which will catch the light of the sun. It’s beautiful, the likes of which I’ve never even been close to before, yet alone worn.

“It’s amazing,” I breathe.

“You put on? I help.” Lamis fiddles in the bag again, and brings out a white boned corset which laces up the front.

I step back, never having worn something like this before. “I don’t know, how will I run in something like that?”

“You will,” she pronounces confidently, and with a twisted grin I agree that she’s probably right. I’ll be running for my life if the horses of hell are after me.

The final thing she produces is a pure white silk thong. Well, at least that must have been cheap, there’s hardly any material there at all.

“Come, I prepare you for your sheikh.” Taking my hand, she leads me behind a curtain where there’s a bath prepared with scented petals floating on the top. Prepare me for my sheikh? I chuckle, seems she’s really getting into this.

And this seems a bit daft, I’ll only get sweaty again after tearing across the hot sand. “Talk about getting in character,” I say with a laugh. “This is all make believe, you know. It’s not real. They’re just going to film me.”

Lamis giggles, “You get in…” she breaks off and taps her hijab, “Right head?”

“In the right mood.” I translate, to her happy nods.

In the mood, yes, definitely. She’s clearly expecting me to get naked, and discreetly turns her back while I divest myself of the clothes I choose so carefully this morning. When I’m hidden under the water, she turns back, and before I can protest, is washing my hair with a jug, using a perfumed shampoo that smells absolutely glorious, even if I can’t work out what the scent is. I let her administer to me, feeling utterly pampered. And when she holds out a fluffy towel, forget my modesty and stand up, letting her wrap it around me.

She gives me some oil, and offers to rub it in, but I don’t want another woman’s hands on me, even if this is her job. I take it from her, and do it myself. I don’t know what’s in it, but it makes my skin feel as soft as silk and has another exotic perfume that I can’t quite place. Its heady scent is acting like an aphrodisiac and I breathe deeply, trying to clear my head. A flush warms my skin, which must be down to the temperature of the air, the tent providing protection only from the sun’s light. When I’ve finished she passes me a robe which I wrap around myself.

Finally, she does my makeup, my eyes ending up alluring, outlined in black kohl. If she can get a close up, Sally will be delighted with the effect. Then Lamis shows her other expertise, braiding part of my hair so a long plait lies down my back, leaving the rest free so it will stream out behind me as I run.

At last, having pulled on the thong, I put on the corset, and Lamis laces me into it. Not the most comfortable garment in the heat, but when I put on the dress the shape it gives me is amazing. My small breasts are pushed up, and my slight waist emphasized, the dress flowing down over my hips.

Lamis steps back to admire her handiwork, “Beautiful,” she breathes, “fit for prince.”

Before I can question her strange statement, the flap to the tent opens. “The sun is beginning to set. It is time.” It’s Rais, himself who’s come to get me. His eyes blink when he sees me, and a smirk comes to his lips. His fierceness makes me nervous. Is he going to be the one scooping me up? I glance around to see Jasim, but he must be out with the film crew. I leave a beaming Lamis, and step out into the early evening light.

Fuck, why did I agree to this? I’ve enjoyed all the pampering, but now I’ve got to run across the desert, chased by thirty or so horsemen, and be swept up into an unknown man’s arms. Hell, I hope he knows what he’s doing. What if he drops me and I get trampled beneath flying hooves? Bloody hell, it seemed simple in the planning, who did I let talk me into this? Sally. That’s who it was. Damn her for her flipping filming ideas. We should swap places, if only I knew how to work a camera.

I turn to Rais, walking by my side, “Who’s going to be in the lead? Who will be picking me up?”

He looks down, his smile enigmatic, “Not I,” he refutes, but doesn’t expand. When he leads me to a Jeep, and helps me inside, expertly gathering my skirts so they won’t trail out of the door, it seems the time for conversation is over. Whichever of his men it will be, I hope he’s a good rider.

I’m hit by both the ordinary and the extraordinary when we’ve driven only a short distance. Here, in the backdrop of dunes with the sun just behind, is Sally behind her camera, adjusting the tripod and calling out instructions. And then, there are the horses, stamping their feet and flicking their tails in the early evening light, a variety of colours, greys, bays, and one such a dark brown it looks almost black. Each man is in full ceremonial robes, scimitars in scabbards clanking against their boots. As the horses toss their heads, their bridles jingle. They’re a frightening bunch, almost making me believe this is real. It’s an ageless sight, one that could have come from any number of centuries past.

Unnerved, I look around for Jasim, but still I can’t see him.

“Wow. Fuck! You look bloody fantastic.” Sally approaches, holding a light meter up toward me, “Hey, I’m really going to be able to do something with this.” She indicates the dress I’m wearing. “Christ, it’s going to sparkle. And your face. I’ll need to zoom in and get a close up of that.” She pauses for breath, then points to a spot by a rock, “That’s your starting point. It’s simple. When I give the signal, all you’ve got to do is run, as fast as you can, in a straight line in that direction.” She waves to show me which way I should go.

All I’ve got to do? I roll my eyes, then glance warily at the loose ground, “What if I fall?”

She chuckles, “Oh don’t worry about that. I’ll make sure to catch it on film. Would add authenticity. Just get up and start running again.”

Open mouthed, I turn to her, I had been joking. I didn’t really want to go head first into the ground and split my head open on a rock. And there’s enough of them lying around. What if the horse stumbles?

“I just run?”

“Yeah, and one of the riders will swoop down on you and sweep you into his arms. He’ll carry you away and I’ll stop filming then.”

“The sun is dropping.” Rais has come up alongside, and Ryan is with him. Again, I look around for Jasim, but he’s nowhere in sight. Isn’t Ryan supposed to be his bodyguard and at his side to protect him at all times? I feel my stomach drop, I’d wanted Jasim to see me in this dress, if the very male looks of appreciation Ryan’s giving me are anything to go by, I’m probably looking the best I’ve ever done in my life. Maybe he’s not even come to watch. Oh, well, it’s not to be, and he promised we’d be together when the time is right. Looking around, we wouldn’t have much opportunity to do more than suffer torture in each other’s presence. There’s not even a tent where we could steal a kiss. No, he’s probably got more important things to do, like staring at oil coming up from a well.

And then all thoughts of the man I want go from my mind as I hear men mounting up and realise my cue to start running will come soon. The sun sinks below the horizon fast here, we’ve only time for one take, and I mustn’t mess this up. Nervous, I start bouncing on the balls of my feet. What the hell was I thinking of, volunteering to do this? It’ll be great, they said. A virgin running over the sands, escaping from the horde of Arabs chasing after her. Fantastic footage they said. Yeah, great, my life put at risk for a few seconds of film.

Sally prods me in the back, and points to the rock. “Show time,” she grins.

I feel lonely as I walk to my mark, some way in front of the horses so she can get some shots of me running before they come into sight. It might be make believe, but suddenly it feels real, as though I’m not an actor on a film set, but a woman being genuinely chased by a sheikh to take for his pleasure. A woman wanting to escape her fate of being abducted and stolen. I’m just getting into character. My fear of the unknown has my heart in my mouth. Shouldn’t we have had a practice run? I decide on the spot a future career as a stuntman is not on the cards.

“Okay, Janna?”

As I turn and nod, Sally calls out, “Three, two, one. And GO!” And now it’s too late.

I pick up the long skirts of my dress and start running, as fast as I can and harder than I’ve ever run in my life. I’m running through the desert, my feet in soft ballet shoes hitting hot sand in the shadows of the dunes which are turning a brilliant gold in the light of the setting sun. My feet pound the ground, my lungs start heaving. And then I hear the thundering of hooves behind me, and the expression of terror on my face is not at all fake.

The sounds get closer, the lead horse must be nearing me. In a flash, I become conscious this has all happened so fast I’ve had no practice and no idea how this is going to work. How will he take me? Will my arm be wrenched from my socket? Will it hurt? I can only hope the rider knows exactly what he’s doing.

Frightened for real, I redouble my efforts as if there could be any chance I’d be able to outrun my pursuers, but the horse is much faster. So close now, I swear I can feel it’s warm breath on the back of my neck. Then I get a glimpse of dark horseflesh beside me, then two arms come around me and I’m swept up and into a stranger’s lap.

An involuntary scream escapes me, startled from me by shock. But I’m safe, I wasn’t harmed, and now the filming will stop. But the horse doesn’t. I wait for my captor to pull back on the reins but, if anything, he’s urging the horse to go faster. The sounds of the other riders behind us are fading away, and the beast I’m now riding is continuing on, its speed not even faltering. The hooves continue hitting the ground, so fast I can’t tell one hoof beat from another.

We’re heading away from Sally, away from the rest of the men. A glance behind shows me we’ve left them far behind. This wasn’t the plan.

I start to struggle, “Stop, stop! Please, stop!” I’m terrified. Who’s got me? And where is he taking me?

I push at the strong arms holding me, try to pry apart the hands holding both the reins and me tight. “Stop! Let me down.”

My struggles are getting frantic when I feel warm breath by my ear. “Shush. Stay still, I’ve got you, I won’t let you fall.”

I still. That voice…

“Shush,” he repeats, “It’s me.”

It’s Jasim.