And before you worry that you’ve missed a bit, the original FFF was Samantha part 1. 🙂 Fair warning… Dragons!
Prince Haveer used the moment when the little whore collapsed after the rough orgasm to unlock her from the grate and ankle. He wrapped the chain around her neck and hauled her to her feet. When she tried to fight him, he pulled on the chain which tightened around her throat. She had two choices. Breathe or die. When he got to the van, he dumped her into the back and got into the passenger side. The car raced off across the city.
An hour later, the van pulled into a parking garage on the grounds of a large estate. Prince Haveer gave orders to the driver and went into the building. The driver got out, and pulled the Prince’s purchase out of the back of the van. He flipped her over his shoulder as if she was a sack of grain. Her attempts to fight him went largely unnoticed. He went downstairs and into an area with doors on either side of the hall. He opened one and dumped the girl on a stone platform covered with a straw pallet.
“I don’t understand you,” said Samantha.
He pointed at her clothes. “خلع ملابسه” he repeated.
Samantha almost had it figured out when he stood her up and opened a knife. She started to scream, as he cut off her dress. He threatened to backhand her and she shut up. He sliced off the bra and then gestured at her shoes. She kicked them off. He shoved her back on the bedding and then picked up the scraps of her clothes. Then he walked out and locked the door.
Samantha looked around at the cell. There was a high window, a bucket in the corner that smelled and the bed. She curled up on the bed and wrapped her arms around her knees. After a while, she fell asleep.
Prince Haveer went to his suite of rooms and stripped off his clothing. After a shower and a fresh set of clothes, he went downstairs to attend to business. Once at his desk, he rang a bell. A few moments later, a woman demurely dressed in a long robe came in carrying a tray with a teapot, cup and food on a plate. She placed it on a nearby table and left. After a moment, he walked over and poured himself a cup of tea. The halva was fresh and scented with rose water. Refreshed, he went back to his paperwork.
An hour later, he called his brother, Jamal. “Yes, I picked up two new properties. One I think is precisely what you need,” he said. “Of course. Dinner? See you in a few hours.” He hung up the phone and rang the bell twice. A tall thin man entered.
“How may I serve you, Prince?”
“There is a piece of property, #146 downstairs. I need it cleaned up and presentable for Prince Jamal. When it is ready, bring it up to the dining room.”
“Yes my Prince.”
“One other thing. There is a second piece of property. #145. Clean it up too and have it in my antechamber by the time I retire,” said the Prince.
The man nodded and left the room. He had two, maybe three hours to clean up the new acquisitions. He decided to do #145 first. When he got to the cell, he could hear the girl screaming and yelling. He turned to the guard. “Has she been this way the whole time?”
“No, only the last hour or so. Do you need a needle?” the guard asked.
“Perhaps. I need a leash.”
The guard stood up, pulled a leash off of the wall and walked down to the cell with the other man. When he opened the door, the girl tried to run past them. He grabbed her, put the leash around her neck and tightened it. It took only a second for the girl to realize that she had two choices. Fight or breathe.
The first man looked at the guard. “I think a needle may be in order.”
The guard nodded and they walked back to the desk with the girl. She kept trying to fight. The guard pulled the leash tight and when she gasped for air, he let up. The servant sent to prepare the girl got a needle and bottle out of the desk. He filled the needle part way and then looked at the guard. The guard choked up on the collar to hold the girl still as the servant injected the drug into her arm. It was a mild sedative which made her easier to handle. When he was sure she would walk calmly, they headed out of the cells and up to a huge bathroom.
The servant hooked the leash to a hook on a wall next to a shower. He whistled and three women dressed in short tunics came running. “Clean her up. Shaved, clipped, perfumed and dressed,” he said. “I’ll be back in a bit.”
Samantha had tried to fight, but the collar around her neck choked off her air. The prick of a needle and something hot stung in her arm. Then the world went fuzzy and she didn’t care anymore. She went quietly as women pulled her over to a table. Laying down, she was shaved. Armpits, legs and crotch. Then they stood her under a shower and scrubbed her clean. It hurt when they washed her hair, but she couldn’t care to say anything. Her hair was combed, trimmed and then styled. Her nails were clipped and painted. One woman did her makeup. Then she was dressed. No bra, no panties. Just a long tunic that was tied closed at the sides in strategic places. A veil of sorts was put over her head that hung down to the floor. When the women were done, the man came back and cuffed her wrists together. He attached the leash to the cuffs and headed out of the bathroom. She followed docilely.
The servant took her to a set of richly appointed rooms. On one wall, there was a hook. Below the hook was a pillow. He gestured for the girl to sit. She did so and he looped the leash up high on the hook. It locked onto a weight. If she tried to stand, the weight would slide down into the wall and keep her standing. He didn’t explain this, but simply left to clean up #145.