Free Sold To The Sheik by Alexx Andria

SOLD TO THE SHEIK
    By Alexx Andria
    Copyright 2012 by Alexx Andria
     
    *Author’s Note: Formerly published as KEPT. This new version has been updated and mildly revised to better reflect the tone of the story. The original can still be found in the bundle titled, UNWILLING.
    *This naughty bit of a story is intended for mature readers only. It features acts of sexual gratification and dubious consent of the Master and slave kind. If you’re not 18 years or older, find something else to read.
    The following short story of approx.12,300 word is a work of fiction.
     
    My eyes were blinded by a swatch of coarse black cloth, my hands bound and hung above my head. I remember firm, supple fingertips, kneading and testing the smooth pliancy of my flesh. I was warned not to utter a sound or my punishment would be severe. I was to accept the poking and prodding, the delving into my most private of places, without a murmur of complaint.
    And those fingers did not hesitate to explore roughly or crudely.
    I was at the mercy of strangers, frightened and alone. My only currency was what could be bartered between my legs. I’d had no idea such things happened to real people until the day I was stuffed into an awaiting van with a black hood thrown over my head.
    “Imagine my surprise,” the woman I came to know as CoCo had said to me, mindless of the tears that streaked my face, after I’d been examined on a dirty table presumably by a doctor of some sort, “when I was told you were still a virgin. Hard to find these days, especially with a face and body such as yours. Everyone’s a whore it seems, no matter how young they are.”
    CoCo, crossed her arms delicately and peered down at me, assessing me with cool efficiency. “You will fetch a good price at the sale. Much better than anyone else. You’re the crème de la crème, my dear.”
    I didn’t bother pleading — the woman was cut from stone — but I could do nothing about the tears that continued to fall.
    A shadow of concern flitted across CoCo’s face and she perched along the edge of the bed where I was tied to the headboard to smooth the hair from my eyes. “Darling,” she purred, gently pushing an errant strand of my white-blonde hair behind my ear as if she were a kind relative rather than my captor. “You mustn’t grieve for a life that was not for you. You have the body of a goddess. It is to be celebrated and honored, my sweetness. Men will pay hundreds of thousands of dollars to have the honor of plucking that lovely cherry. It is an honor and gift I give you. You shall see.”
    “I just want to go home,” I’d said in a raspy whisper. My voice had grown hoarse the first three days of my abduction. By the fourth day, I’d given up crying and screaming and tried reason but to no avail. “Why are you doing this to me?”
    CoCo ignored my question and plucked at an invisible piece of lint before answering with a smile that scared me. “Why not?”
    I licked my lips, tears leaking down my face. “I’m a person, not something you can buy and sell. What you’re doing is illegal. This is human trafficking!”
    Irritated by my show of emotion, CoCo stood and her eyes lit up as she began to talk about the night of the sale. “You know, it isn’t often we find someone of your caliber. Of course, we sent out an exclusive invitation to our most valued and discerning clients and the response was overwhelming. Far better than we could’ve imagined,” she said, making me cringe. She patted my bare knee. “Now, enough with these silly tears. You must look your best tonight, darling. You will be bathed and waxed, your beautiful blonde hair will be washed and styled and then your fingers and toes tended to as well. We are saving you for last in the show. The anticipation is already building within our buyers. You will be our showcase event.” She added with a cold smile as an aside, “Oh, and darling…please remember to be silent. Our clients do not like weepy