The sand was hot on my bare feet as I walked two steps behind my captor, a fatatan assassin of the rimal. I was naked but for my chains. My wrists were locked behind me while my feet were hobbled by a short set of links. An iron leash connected my sunburnt neck to my enemy’s hand. I was a prince of the Levant but now I was also a prisoner.
The girl who held me in bondage was not imposing. She was short and slim but I knew she carried the sting of a scorpion in her frame. The bruises on my body were proof of that.
That had been my mistake, underestimating her. She had come upon me while I bathed in an oasis. She dazzled me with her alluring voice. Trained in the arts of seduction her whole life. I had no reason to suspect. Girls often threw themselves at me for the privilege of a night with a prince. I should have known the moment I tasted that spice on her lips, like cinnamon and dates. It was a sleeping drug often used by the females of the caste of assassins to incapacitate their prey.
“Hurry up behiima!” she taunted. “We must make it to the hills before sundown if we are to assure that there is no hope of your rescue.” It was maddening. With each bitter step I lessened my odds of freedom.
For a moment I struggled against my fetters and pulled on my leash. Seeing the look of fury in her eyes I felt instant regret.
She wheeled on me like a viper snapped her leather whip in the air. It was the type used to break unruly horses. Next it crossed my quivering skin. An angry red streak marked the path of her vengeance. She pulled me forward by my leash and grabbed the rear of my hair. I felt her knee in my back and dropped to the ground.
“You are a dog!” she spat. “And I will bring your fakhur spirit to heel or you will regret the first day you saw the sun rise.” She dug her knee into my kidney and waited. “Please!” I sputtered “no more.” She relaxed her grip a bit. “You will show me your regret” she said. “Lick my boots shariha!”
As the son of a sultan I could never submit myself so brazenly before an assassin, an outcast! My muscles twitched with rage and humiliation. She brought her whip down once upon my buttocks in a snap of pain and shoved my chin into her foot. With all the hatred man has ever felt i licked her boot. More ignominy and disgrace no prince since the days of Abraham has felt I am sure.
She hauled me up and steadied me, seeming calmer after bending me to her will.
She looked deep into my eyes. Her unusual venom green irises peering into my soul. “Come o ‘asir” she said not entirely without warmth. “We must make camp before sunset.”
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/5zalni/a_prince_of_arabia_part_1_bdsm
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