The Blessings of Allah

[Kate]

Copyright©Kate/martykate September 1999

The blessings of Allah truly rained down upon Omar the Faithful. Not only were his goats, sheep , and camels plentiful and fruitful; his mares the finest in the Sahara, but his wives blessed him with sons, and his coffers overflowed with gold looted from the caravans. And, when the authorities would attempt to search for him and arrest him, Allah would blind them to his presence and he would escape to re-appear another day.

He prayed faithfully five times a day, thanking Allah for his generosity and his wisdom. He was young, he was handsome, and he was rich beyond his wildest dreams. He lacked for nothing, and remembered to be charitable to the unfortunate as was befitting his station.

But he had enough gold to satisfy him and now the caravans held another, more tempting, loot. The Europeans now made regular appearances as their sphere of influence expanded. There were not only English pounds, French francs, German marks and Italian lira, there were also women. Women with gold, auburn, chestnut brown, and sometimes raven hair. Eyes of blue, green, hazel, liquid brown. Women with soft white skin that had never known a day of work in their lives. Women just for the taking. Women for whom their menfolk were willing to pay high ransoms.

He would never have taken one to wife. He had the four wives allowed by the Koran, and that was plenty for him to manage. And women were not always obedient, and demanded his correction to return them to the correct path that Allah intended. And when correction was needed, it was his hand that was the instrument, and he did not hesitate when the need arose.

In truth, he loved to see them bend over a hassock, and lift their robes, their amber haunches exposed and plump buttocks sticking up. Before their punishment, he would lecture them on the duty wives owed to their husbands. Then he would take the rawhide quirt he kept especially for this purpose and dispense the ten lashes required for correction.

There would be howls as the lash cracked against their skin. Their asses would jerk and quiver, doing a little dance with each whack, rocking back and forth, rotating in little circles. He would look with satisfaction upon their exposed private parts and sometimes the punished one would find herself summoned to her husband’s bed that night.

Her beating finished, his wife would prostrate herself at his feet, her exposed buttocks displaying red stripes and welts as she lay face down before her lord. He would then allow her to lower her skirts and rise and sent her on her way, admonishing her to remember that he was her lord and master and that she must render the devotion to him that the Koran demanded.

He often wondered why the European men were remiss in their duties to apply correction to their women. Occasionally he would find one with welts and bruises upon her buttocks, and he knew this one to be the wife, daughter or sister of a wise man. It would be necessary from time to time to apply punishment for his European captives, and they received no less than what was administered to his wives. The sight of a pair of white buttocks raised in the air would make his cock stiffen in pleasure and that night the miscreant, sometimes protesting, sometimes shameless and eager, would find herself summoned to his bed and he would show her the way to Paradise.

He congratulated himself on the fact that he must have sired many sons, and in truth many were returned to their husbands with a pregnancy hidden in their bellies. Somewhere many babes were born with dark eyes and black curly hair, inheriting the features of neither mother nor father.

Oh yes, those women and their white buttocks gave him great pleasure. When the current captive was returned he would often spend that night masturbating, his cock stiff and fit to burst, dreaming of thrusting it into a lily white bottom which he held firmly in his hands while she protested the pain and indignity she was suffering. Their virgin bottoms were as delicious as their cunts, sometimes even more so, and it was a pleasure he availed himself of often, their hating of it—and him—arousing his already-stiff cock even more.

He liked spanking English women the best of all. The Italians bore their whipping mischievously, the Spanish saucily, the French slyly, and the Germans stoically. But the English women never cooperated. They behaved as if their spankings were out of the question, refusing to cooperate when ordered to bend over a hassock and bare their bottoms, or lie obediently over Omar’s lap. He would then order his servants to hold them down, and as an extra punishment he would administer twenty lashes instead of the usual ten. Their reserved behaviour, their obvious indignation, was lost as they began to cry and to struggle and they would beg and plead—all in vain—for him to stop. And if summoned to his bed that night they would submit to his caresses with no word of protest.

Ah yes, Omar the Faithful was blessed, yea, thrice blessed, by Allah indeed.

[sarah thorne]

Very good start. Thank you for posting!

sarah