Slave Girl

by Cristiano Caffieri

My name is Dan Houlte, my dad is a very successful investor and I’ve never wanted for anything. I’ve been expelled from some of the best schools and colleges, despite my father’s generous endowments, I’ve fucked more women than you can shake a dick at and I’ve been arrested three times. Mostly for driving under the influence.

Because my mother died when I was three I think my dad spoiled me and at 24 years of age I’d never done an honest day’s work. That all changed after my last DUI. He put me in charge of a charitable foundation that he established just for me. My job was to supervise a team that drilled for freshwater in the Middle East and Africa.

Along with some state of the art equipment and a couple of engineers I was first shipped out the Sahara where I lived in cockroach-infested hotels and suffered more than one bout of food poisoning. Occasionally I was able to break away and go to the nearest city for some five-star treatment but after seeing such poverty in the hinterland, I almost felt guilty for my indulgences.

As we trained some local engineers to maintain the equipment I didn’t have to be there all of the time but it was my baby and I didn’t intend to sit in an office in New York organizing fundraising dinners and charity auctions. I spent every second month in the field and even my dad was telling me to slow down a bit.

At the end of my first year, we’d drilled wells in dozens of villages and had to overcome hazardous conditions to do so. Tribal traditions sometimes border on the medieval and care had to be taken to never challenge the authority of the chiefs who wield absolute power.

In one mountain village, where we’d successfully hit a vein of pure spring water, we were preparing to leave when I came across a slave auction. I was staggered, believing such things had died out generations ago. On a rickety platform stood an absolutely beautiful slave being auctioned off to a crowd of eager bidders. Immediately I imagined this young woman being abused by these leering old men. Before I could control myself I made a bid, and it was a big one.

The crowd went silent and all eyes turned to me. I didn’t know what the big fat auctioneer was saying but apparently I’d won the bid. One of the drilling crew who was standing with me seemed to understand some of the dialect and he helped me to make the payment and claim my prize.

Of course I intended to drive back to the town where I was staying and let her go but Fazil informed me that as she probably couldn’t read and write she’d more than likely be forced into prostitution. Consequently, I drove back to my excuse for a hotel attempting to communicate with my cowering charge.

Fazil had managed to ascertain that her name was Mila Na Jana and her parents were dead. That’s all I knew about her at that point. When I got to the hotel I told the seedy desk clerk she was my maid and asked for another room. They didn’t have any and so I was faced with another complication.

The poor girl was trembling with fear as I led her inside the room but I did my best to indicate that I was a nice person and that I would do her no harm. Using the antiquated phone I called down for some food and when it arrived she immediately began to serve me, bowing furiously as she did so. Eventually, I managed to get her to sit down and I served her. She was so surprised she just sat there like a rock, staring at me as though I was a crazy person.

During the meal I smiled at her but this seemed to make her more nervous and so I quit doing that. It was getting late and so once the plates had been taken away I showed her the bathroom. I’m sure she had never seen one before so I had to show her how everything worked.

When she re-emerged I pointed to the bed I’d made up for her on the sofa. She obediently climbed in and after I’d washed up I retired to my bed.

“Good night Mila,” I said, as I switched off the light. She mumbled something I have no idea what it was.

The next morning when I awoke she was busy tidying up the room. I tried to explain that was the maids job but as she seemed happy to do it I let her continue. After we’d had some breakfast, that I had to encourage her to eat, I got her to follow me out into the street. She walked a few paces behind, which made me nervous because I thought she might make a run for it. Of course, that would have relieved me of the responsibility for her but I really wanted to help her in some way.

As her clothing wasn’t in the greatest condition and she had no shoes, I had decided to get her some new things. We eventually came to a bazaar where you could buy anything you desired and I stopped at one selling women’s attire. The woman who ran the place spoke a little English and a little French and a bit like Richard Geer, in the movie Pretty Woman, I tried to indicate I wanted her kitted out.

I stood in front of the store watching the activity while the woman took her in the back. As Mila neither spoke Arabic, English or French things got lost in translation. When she emerged from the back she was not wearing traditional garb but a very smart Western-style dress and some knock-off Italian shoes which she was having some difficulty walking in. I was completely taken by surprise – she looked beautiful.

In the end I bought her two or three outfits and managed to do a mime that indicate I wanted her to have underwear. The woman smiled and discretely put them in the bag.

Mila still walked a few paces behind me even though she looked like a princess. She looked so beautiful in fact I did another Richard Geer and bought her some dangly earrings and a bangle. She looked very confused but I could see she was pleased.

I checked us out of the hotel at noon and we headed for the capital. I was a friend of the American Consul there and decided to seek his advice. As he looked at my charge admiringly he said he never thought the day would come when I would ask his advice about women.

“I wondered if I could get her into the States, pay for her to get an education and give her the opportunity to build a life for herself,” I said.

“She doesn’t fit any of the criteria I can think of,” he replied, “unless you’re prepared to marry her.”

“Now you’re talking crazy,” I laughed, “I’ve no intention of marrying anyone in the foreseeable future and certainly not someone who can’t read and write or speak the language.” Immediately I’d said that I felt bad, it seemed I was putting her down. Fortunately, she couldn’t understand me.

“I can’t imagine what you were thinking when you took responsibility for this tribal outcast.”

“She’s not an outcast – she’d a human being and I think I rescued her from a fate worse than death.”

The Consul wiped an imaginary tear from his eye, “Maybe I’ll recommend you for the Congressional Medal,” he said, sarcastically.

He could see from my expression that I didn’t find that funny and he became a bit more conciliatory.

“You could get married, send her to school and then get a quick divorce in Reno.”

It seemed absolutely ridiculous but I never the less asked him if he could arrange a temporary marriage. But he said it was more than his job was worth.

“She’s got no papers, you don’t know her age, maybe that’s not even her real name.”

“So what do you suggest?”

“Go to the Shankhan province, the governor there is as bent as they come, for the right price he’ll give her an identity and all the relevant paperwork but don’t mention my name.”

Mila and I booked into a five-star hotel and I did book her in as my wife. Just to get used to the idea. She seemed a little more comfortable and I would liked to have taken her into the restaurant but she ate with her fingers and I thought that might attract attention. Instead, we had some nice food sent up and we watched TV.

The next day we headed out to Shankahn Province and as the Consul had said the governor was as crooked as a three dollar bill. Soon we had a birth certificate, a marriage certificate, and a passport.

Mila was very confused about the marriage certificate and it was so frustrating because I couldn’t explain the situation to her. As she had never been more than a chattel she just went along with everything, I’m sure she would have obeyed me without question but I didn’t want that. I was actually enjoying this “My Fair Lady” experience and I was getting quite fond of her – in a friendly way.

It took a couple of days to get the papers and I spent the time teaching her things and watching TV. She was particularly fond of Bugs Bunny, Jimmy Neutron and TVs Greatest Bloopers.

I did get a wedding ring for Mila as she is not Muslim. Her tribe seemed to belong to one of the many religious sects which can contain some elements of Islam but also of Christianity and Zoroastrianism. I’m not sure what religious rites we were supposed to be married under as I can’t read the certificate.

When we had all of the papers we went back to the capital and took a plane back to the US. She was terrified and I had quite a job controlling her. When we arrived we did manage to clear immigration but I was instructed to contact the main office within thirty days to clarify some details.

By the time we arrived at my house Mila was beginning to be a little independent although she still had a long way to go. My dad was at a conference in Brazil. I hadn’t dared to phone him as I was sure he’d think I’d gone crazy.

Our housekeeper accepted her right away thinking it was just one more of my bevy of beauties. However, she had a strange look on her face when I asked her to prepare one of the guest rooms for Mila.

There was something I didn’t know about Sarah my housekeeper, her mother was Syrian and she knew quite a bit of Arabic. When I got up the following morning she was sitting at the table on the terrace with Mila and the two seemed to be getting along like a house on fire. The problem was they were pouring over the papers we’d got from the governor of Shankhan.

As she couldn’t read Mila didn’t know what was going on and was unaware that we were married until Sarah, using Arabic and sign language, manage to explain it to her.

“Congratulations Sir, I think you’ve made a good choice,” she greeted me.

I wasn’t quite sure what she meant until she pointed to the marriage certificate laying on the table. Mila was so excited she jumped out of her seat and threw her arms around me gabbling something total unintelligible.

“It’s only a marriage of convenience Sarah, I just wanted to have her educated here in the States – nothing more.”

“Well you’d better explain that to her,” she said indignantly, “she’s obviously very fond of you – it will break her heart if you tell her the truth.”

I sighed and sat down in one of the chairs. Mila wouldn’t stop touching me and looking at me as if I was the love of her life. I felt awful. When Sarah went to get some fresh coffee I tried to explain the situation to my very pretty wife but she just smiled. I was in deep shit!

After the coffee which constituted my breakfast I decided to go to my office in town and leave the two women to plot against me. I went to lunch on my own, and just sat there toying with my food and trying to think how I could explain things to Mila – and my dad.

When I got back home she rushed towards me and gave me a big hug and attempted to say, “I love you.”

I knew this was Sarah’s doing and I was ready to give her shit but when I walked in the dining room the table was laid out so nicely, my favorite piece of music was playing softly and of course there were candles and flowers.

The maid, who had not met Mila until later in that day congratulated me and the cook, who’d prepared a sumptuous meal came in from the kitchen and actually gave me a hug.

“Lovely girl you have there,” she smiled.

It was a conspiracy. They had me in a corner and I think they knew it.

That evening I sat watching cartoons with the wife I’d planned to divorce soon. She snuggled up to me really close and laughed such a magical laugh I was beginning to fall for her.

At first I thought Sarah might have slipped something in my wine at dinner it just wasn’t like me. I liked to fuck women and I always treated them well but I tried never to get emotional involved.
Around ten I decided to sneak out of the room while Mila was laughing hysterically at Sponge Bob and I went to bed thinking I needed to lie there and think. I had a shower, poured myself a Bourbon and sat in my favorite chair and tried to convince myself that Mila meant absolutely nothing to me and I was simply performing a good deed that had got out of hand. I sat there for about fifteen minutes and then, convinced that I could probably straighten things out in the morning, I climbed into bed.

I was just about to turn off my bedside lamp when the door opened and Mila, dressed in a stunning negligee entered the room. As I had not bought her a negligee I presumed Maria the maid had loaned it to her. I knew it wouldn’t fit the cook or the housekeeper they were both what you might call pleasantly plump.

“I don’t think it’s appropriate for you to be in my room,” I said, sternly.

Of course she didn’t understand me and she simply dropped the garment to the floor and stood there naked. She was fucking beautiful.

Normally I welcome any good-looking woman into my bed but for some reason, this didn’t seem right. I tried to convey my protest with facial expressions and hand signals but to no avail, she just smiled pulled back the covers and slipped in beside me. As I was naked, feeling her warm body pressing against mine caused my dick to get so hard it hurt.

With her long black hair spread out across the pillow, and her big brown eyes staring into mine I thought I must be the luckiest son of a bitch on Earth. And I got even luckier as she pressed her full lips against mine and I felt her hand make contact with my balls. A split second after that, I was fondling her tits and exploring her mouth with my tongue.

With her slender fingers wrapped around my cock she moved down the bed and gently kissed the bell-end and then she guided it into her mouth until it seemed as though she’d swallowed the whole thing. I gasped as she moved slowly up and down groping my balls at the same time. I’m afraid I was impatient to cum and tried to prompt her to go faster by raising up my ass as if I was face fucking her.

Mila wasn’t influenced by my actions nor by the way I was groaning, she just continued going up and down at that same pace and just when I thought I couldn’t stand it anymore she began to suck it harder and harder. I started to feel my cum moving up my dick and then I shot my load in her sweet mouth. She kept on sucking and licking until she’d dried me out and after taking a few deep breaths I pulled her on top of me until her hairy crack was over my mouth.

At first I just flicked it with the tip of my tongue and then as I held onto her tits and flittered up and down the inside of her lips like a butterfly’s wing. When she came she jerked her ass up and down and almost smothered me.

I turned her onto he back and just looked down at her, she looked so innocent staring up at me waiting for my next move. Taking my throbbing cock in my hand I rubbed it up and down her slit. She started to breathe heavy as though she was anticipating my next move with some trepidation. I lined my dick up and then I rammed it into her. Her eyes widened as she felt the full length thrust deep inside of her.

I started off slowly like she had done and as I increased the pace she started to whimper. As I kept thrusting it in and out of her well-lubricated crack she gripped onto my shoulders. My ass was now going up and down like a fiddlers elbow and her tits, although not large, were swinging from side to side. This really turned me on and I could wait to shoot my load.

When I gave her those last forceful strokes and injected her with a stream of hot lava she screamed and I let out a primeval bellow. My god, it was good. We just lay there for a time touching each other and attempting to communicate in two different languages. Before going to sleep she kissed me gently on the cheek and snuggled up close.

My dad arrived back the next morning and when he first saw Mila he thought I’d hired a new maid. When I explained the full story he just asked me one question,

“Do you love her?”

“Yes, I do,” I replied. It was the first time I’d ever admitted I loved anybody.

“You treat her right and no fucking about with other women,” he said. He then gave Mila a hug and welcomed her to the family. She looked at me as if to say. “Who the fuck is this?”

I got Sarah to try and explain things to her and she also taught me to say I love you in Arabic. That wasn’t Mila’s first language but she understood what I was trying to say and when we took an afternoon nap, she kept saying it to me over and over again. THE END

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Copyright 2019 Cristiano Caffieri

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