Sneakers in The Desert Part 2of 2

Sneakers in The Desert
Part 2of 2

Then, Badra's foot pressed on the back of her head. With her hands behind her back, she could not resist the weight, so she pushed her head down.

Badra's face flashed with anger. Delilah's face was smashed against the food. Her cheeks were flattened against the granite. The mustard and wet bread pieces tuck to her whole face.

Badra's soiled soles left mustard and greens in her hair. Badra stepped around and wiped her soles clean on Delilah's clothes.

Just when Badra had stepped back in her shoes, Aafiya returned to the kitchen with a startled look.

"I know what you will say, Aafiya – those American girls are trained better. However, looking at her, I see she behaves like a dog. Those people were right, after all, that Americans are no better than filthy dogs. Have you ever seen a human eat off the floor like this? You should return her.

Our son would love to drive your old Jaguar."

"We are doing something good here. We must go more slowly. Let her sleep in the doghouse tonight. Sleeping in a bed may be too foreign for her.

She may get scared. I must go back to the office for a meeting with the minister. Be nice to her. I love you."

Badra watched Delilah finish eating on the floor. Badra made Delilah lick up everything, including Badra's mustard footsteps. The sun was setting outside. Delilah was shown the large doghouse in the living room. She had to crawl into it on her knees. Inside was a soft doggie bed coated with balls of hair from a natural dog. Crouching in a fetal position, Delilah quickly fell asleep.

The next day, Badra realized that Aafiya wouldn't send away Delilah. So, she left for the day.

Delilah began cleaning the floor. She vacuumed. She wiped the bathroom, which was abundant with an oversized Jacuzzi lowered into the floor, a big screen TV, and a separate room for the toilet. The toilet room included an intercom to the main bathroom. The labor made her sweat a bit and forget the troubled journey. She counted one day down out of the month. She'd get her horse in the end. She just had to hang in there. Plus, the food was so fresh and good. There was so much food in the pantry and everywhere that she could easily take a little here or there without it being obvious.

In the evening, Aafiya returned with two burly men in tow. The burly men were laden with big, heavy bags. The sweet aroma of Arab lamb filled the air. "Delilah, we are having special guests tonight. An official of the security service will visit us. I'd like you to be our server. They will be impressed to see an American working in our home. I even got you American clothes, so that you are comfortable. The guest will be so impressed to realize how tolerant we are by letting you wear what you like, despite the stricture of our society."

Aafiya threw Delilah a small plastic bag. Delilah peeked inside. Inside was a skimpy bikini in the colors of the American flag. One bra side had the stars, and the other had the stripes.

There were also see-through plastic stripper high heels.

"We only wear those at the beach."

"C'mon, don't be shy to be yourself. We are very open-minded. We value other cultures."

Defeated by all the humiliation, Delilah went to the opulent bathroom. She stripped down her clothes. She got into the bikini and high heels. Her voluptuous thighs showed pinched by the string of the bikini bottom. Her belly was a little rounded out. Her big boobs lurked out on all sides of the bikini triangles. The high heels made her butt swing from side to side. Her skin looked pasty. She looked like a sweet, sexy homebody.

Everyone at the dinner table was dressed conservatively. Aafiya, Da'wud, and the security services official were dressed in suits with jackets. Badra was dressed in a black head-to-toe dress. A veil covered her face. Only a black hole hinted at Badra's eyes lurking out. Badra didn't say a single word the entire evening. She never reached for a plate. If her husband forgot to replenish the gravy on her potatoes or the drink in the glass, she'd silently wait for her husband to place the food on her plate.

During this display of conservatism, Delilah paraded the food in and dirty plates out like a stripper. Her butt bubbled, and her boobs jingled with every step. Her toes were deliciously splayed from the forward weight of the high heels. Her face smiled. The back of the bikini kept working itself in between the butt cheeks to show even more of her big bubble butt. The men leered each time she entered. They would not resume talking until she left. In a way, it was just like back home. Let the older men stare. They never do anything.

When the table conversation calmed from intense discussion to relaxed talk over digestive coffee, the head of security reached around Delilah's thigh, high up beneath the bikini bottom.

His hand slid between her thighs and stopped her from walking. Delilah uncomfortably paused with the empty salad bowl in her hand. The security service official had a skinny face that was drawn out by anxiety and stress. He seemed perpetually in need of another cigarette. He relished feeling up the naked skin of the American girl.

"I enjoy the tolerance in this household. Why don't you let her show us her customs? I hear the Americans love booties dancing."

"Da'wud, get on YouTube. Find Delilah some bootie music."

Da'wud eagerly nodded at everyone at the table to excuse himself and get up. He walked over to the computer in the living room. The rapid drum rolls for bootie shakes quickly sounded up in the HiFi sound system.

"Go, Delilah, don't be shy."

Delilah remained frozen. The security service official pulled his hand off her thigh, undid his belt, and pulled it out. The skinny black leather belt waved like a snake. "You surely don't let her get away with disobedience. This skinny leather belt will leave deep marks reminding her for a long time."

"Delilah, come here. Drink this."

Aafiya gave her a half-filled glass of clear liquid. It tasted smooth, but then it burned her throat.

Her eyes cried. She caught. It was vodka, quickly three shots. She had not been allowed to eat herself while she had served an opulent dinner for two hours. She breathed out through her mouth to tame the burn inside her mouth. There was an instant high of anxiety from realizing that she would be senselessly drunk in a few minutes. She was breathing faster.

The bootie music was still thumping loud, asking her to dance. She gingerly stepped her legs apart and squeezed her butt cheeks alternatingly. The fat tissue in her butt let the movement create ripples that spread through her butt. She gyrated her boobs to the music. Next thing, she was on her hands with her legs spread wide. Her butt was mooning the Arab guests. The ligaments attached at the center of her hip clearly showed, demonstrating just how little fabric covered her snatch. The security services official let his belt snap in the air. She shook her bootie harder each time she heard the loud crack.

"You know Aafiya, those American's are always sex crazy. She probably looks so sad because she is sex deprived. You should send her off with your boy. We have any business to talk about. No American can be in the house when we talk. Send your wife to her bedroom as well.

She could be a spy, after all. The CIA is everywhere."

Da'wud turned off the music. He got up. He had a massive grin on his smile. "Dad? I get the
American girl for tonight. I can do whatever I want.

I can take her down to the strip?"

"Da'wud, your father is very generous. Now go before you turn into a pest."

Da'wud grabbed Delilah. His face was red from excitement. He had a boyish, boisterous excitement about him that made him forget his shoes. Then, he realized his shoes and something else. He left Delilah in the entrance hall. Two minutes later, he reappeared with a tiny, skimpy black dress.

"Take this on. We got it for another household help. It should fit." Delilah took it on. The bottom of the dress stopped right beneath her bikini bottom. She could only stand without showing her bottoms. The fabric felt sleek, wet, and fluid. Her whole figure was exposed as if she only wore body paint. The bikini outline was clearly shown through the supple dress fabric.

Da'wud's car was an old, top-of-the-line Mercedes S-Class. Once in the backseat, the inside was anything but luxurious. The cigarette tray, glove box, carpet, and everything else had been crudely ripped out of the car. It felt like the shell of an abandoned car. There were cigarette burns and dirt stains everywhere.

"Do you love it? We trimmed another 50 lbs. out of the weight of the car. It's a racing car."

Da'wud drove through the night. The neighborhood was sparsely populated by villas with extensive gardens surrounding them. The night was black.

Nobody was in the streets. They picked up two friends and sat left and right in Delilah. They were equally boyish in the dress. Their faces were innocent. They were excited.

Smirks kept flashing over their faces, which they tried to hide. They were shy about touching
Delilah. They pulled their thighs carefully away from her.

The ride was silent. Everyone was breathless to steal a stare at Delilah. Delilah almost felt like she was in power. The Mercedes calmly rolled out into the deep desert.

"My father said that I could do anything with her. What should we do?"

"Da'wud, do you have to put her on the car hood? Then, we'll cruise up and down and impress everyone."

The car came up onto vehicles parked along the road.

"Okay, Delilah, get out. Pose on the hood of the car."

Delilah strutted out into the dark desert night in her see-through stripper heels. She sat on the hood.

"No, pose! Lean back, bend your knees a bit."

Delilah felt the warm engine underneath the hood. It was comfortingly warm in the cool night air in her skimpy outfit. The car slowly idled along the road. Groups of young Arabs were standing along the street. They were drinking. They had cups and bottles in their hands. They called out Arabic screeches at the sight of the skimpy white girl on the hood of the Mercedes.

There were no girls, only young men.

Once they passed the strip of parked cars and drinking men, one of Da'wud's friends called out: "Let's make her walk along the car like a dog. I have some cables here. Let's put them around her neck like a leash." The men inside the car got excited and giddy. They called Delilah to get off the hood and come over. They tied starter cables around her neck. The thick wires were heavy.

The liquor from the dinner table had its full effect. The good thing was that Delilah felt no embarrassment at all. However, she wobbled helplessly in her high heels. She fell. The car kept going a bit farther. She helplessly crawled on her knees. The friend holding her jumper cable leash excitedly called out: "Now she is crawling like a dog. That is even better!" her dress exposed her whole butt. The American flag bikini bottoms bared themselves to the crowd. The young men cheered.

A man who looked more official strutted straight to the car. The car stopped. Delilah took the chance to roll on her butt. Her skirt rode up high. Her legs were sprawled open wide. Her face had drooly eyes from the liquor. She smiled evilly at herself because a prank thought crossed her mind.

"Da'wud, can we borrow your girl? We are having a drag race. She could wave the starter flags. That would be so cool, like in the movie Fast and Furious."

The race official gathered Delilah from the floor. He swatted the dust off her black dress. Then, he took the tipsy damsel to the middle of the road. A Porsche and a Lamborghini drove up to them. A checkered rug was pressed into Delilah's hand. The racers shook hands. Then, they kissed their fingers and slapped Delilah on the butt for a good look. Delilah shook her finger drunkenly at them. She wasn't aware that she was in Bahrain. She behaved like back home at a frat party.

The drivers roared their engines, and Delilah could feel the vibrations in her body. She stood between the two hoods, which scared her and made her think of her vibrator simultaneously.

She raised the checkered rag and let her arms fall. The roadsters screeched ahead, and the drag wind made the tipsy Delilah tumble left and right.

She caught herself. The next set of cars pulled up for a drag race. This time, Delilah cheered in abandon for the start of the race. The drag wind of the cars left the vulnerable, skimpy-dressed Delilah again tumbling in the middle of the road. The crowd of men stared and leered at her.

A particularly boisterous young man tried to make his BMW drift along the desert stretch. He lost control. His car tumbled. The doors, broken windshields, and inside of the car flew out sideways as the car rolled over on its side at high speed. A group of six young Arabs that had been drinking in a circle were flattened before the vehicle crashed into parking luxury cars.

Everyone ran for their cars to take off. The police came with a single compact Nissan. The siren blared lonely.

Da'wud, speeding away with Delilah and his friends, said, "Don't worry. That happens every few months." Delilah was sobered up by adrenaline.

Luxury cars raced them left and right on the street in the desert. They drove with abandon of the median. Some cars wobbled, and the drivers were out of control of the exotic car's power.

A few minutes out, everyone distributed. The driving went calmer.

"Da'wud, that was a good night. You got a lot of cred for bringing the American out." Da'wud proudly leaned a bit deeper into the Mercedes seat.

"That Delilah girl doesn't protest like all those Indian women. We should take advantage. Let's pull over to my house. My parents are in London."

The friend's villa was equally opulent. They pulled her into the bathroom, which was a massive room with a free-standing bathtub, a separate shower, a sauna, and even a couch. The two friends sat on the sofa, and Da'wud sat on the large sink.

"Take your clothes off."

Delilah pulled her black dress over her head. She let the bikini bottom fall to the floor. She dropped the bikini. She stood naked in her stripper high heels in the middle of the lit-up bathroom. The big mirrors revealed her nude body to herself.

One of the guys on the bench pulled his pants down and showed his limp penis.

"Suck it."

Delilah was pushed forward. Yet, she struggled against going down on him. Her face was a foot away from the limp penis. She moved with both arms. Her eyes and mouth were pressed shut.

"Hold on," said the guy next to her. "We gotta do this with smarts. I read this book from Marquis de Sade. He was one sick French writer. Put her in the Sauna, and turn the thermostat up."

Delilah was pushed into the Sauna. One man held the door closed with his foot. She tried to open it, but it didn't move at all. The dry air was burning hot.

She could barely keep her eyes open. Her lungs were revolting against the heat. She covered her melting face with her hands. She sat down, leaning forward. Within a minute, the first sweat drop ran down her nose. Two minutes later, her skin was covered by a thousand equally-sized sweat pearls.

Another minute, one sweat pearl reached critical mass, rolled down, and started a chain reaction that caused other sweat pearls to follow.

She was drenched in sweat. After ten minutes, one usually exits the Sauna. Staying longer is not suitable for health. The heat, sweat, and liquid loss made her a bit tired. Her throat was parched. It felt like her throat was turning into dust. She banged against the door, pleading to be led out. They kept her for another five minutes until she thought she could no longer take it.
Free, out again in the big bathroom, her skin felt super-heated. It radiated out the excess heat.

"I'm so thirsty. I need to drink." Her eyes were half closed when she whimpered her plead.

"Sure, we got it right here."

One of the friends on the couch had his pants pulled down. His penis was limp. He held his penis tightly. The reason was that he held a little hose, the size of a straw, to his penis.

A camel pack was connected to the hose. "That's the only way you are going to get liquid."

You can die or drink.

It's your choice."

Delilah got on her knees. She put her arms on his dressed thighs. She put the limp penis in her mouth. She sucked hard. Her primal needs for water were so strong. The other guys cheered in excitement that their plan had worked. The guy getting the blow job was in a trance because she sucked on his penis, so she had. Her tongue swirled around the penis, oblivious of the blow job, only concerned with getting more water. The water tasted so sweet because she was so thirsty.

The guy pushed her head back forcefully. She was so hungry for the penis that she was like a vampire in bloodlust. The guy handed over the hose to his friend. Delilah quickly moved over and started sucking his cock. The hose was, on purpose, tiny so that only a small jet of water came out, even though Delilah pulled as hard as she could. The friend's face was immediately distorted by the intense sensation on his sensitive penis. The penis hardened in her mouth.

She instinctively stared at it, massaging it with her lips and tongue. Da'wud explored her dry vagina from behind.

When her belly had filled with water, she paused, let the erection drop out of her mouth, looked at the three guys, and contemplated her situation.

The first guy immediately said, "Let's put her back in the Sauna. She is no longer thirsty. If we train her long enough, she'll ask for cock, each time she is thirsty."

Delilah sat in the Sauna again. The rush of water ached her belly a bit, but it felt cool overall.

The Sauna was more bearable now that she was used to it. She felt like a hamster in a wheel.

There was no getting away from the parching Sauna and sucking cock cycle. In the Sauna, she had nothing to do or think about.

There was a commotion outside the Sauna. "Oh, no. My dad heard about the accident on the strip. He wants me to come back right away. The police are conducting raids."

"Delilah, get your clothes. We have to go!"

Delilah fell asleep on the way home from exhaustion. They put her in her dog's house to sleep.

The following day, she had a severe headache from drinking and dehydration. The family members had left for work, so she had the big house and all the high-tech cleaning toys. She ate and drank well. She started cleaning the house again. She prepared a rice dish for dinner.

Being left to her thoughts and freedom in the house was comforting. Two days she had passed. That's six percent of her tenure. The first days were often the hardest.

"You think that you are going to get away eventually. I can see your spirits are rising by the minute."

Delilah turned around, startled. An older man with pepper and salt hair addressed her. He wore an old suit, and his chin rested on a walking cane.

Her lips trembled.

"Of course, they forgot to tell you about me. I am Faaz. I am the grandfather. Don't be afraid, little girl. I was sold as a sex slave like you were."

"I am not a sex slave. I am on a household contract for a month."

"That's how they lured you here. You gave your family and everyone fake papers. Nobody knows that you are here. You were sold as a sex slave.

Just like I was when I was young, trust me. It is a lot harder for boys."

"They lied to me."

"Yes, they did my child. Did you ever ask where the previous household help went or the one before that?"

"They went back home to their country."

"If everything was so awesome, why would they not return?"

"You are scaring me!"

"You should be scared."

"What should I do?"

"I told you that I used to be a sex slave. An enslaved person can be compelling. Many leaders have been influenced by their slaves. Enslaved people have made many war and peace decisions by influencing their masters. It may not seem like it. However, enslaved people could have higher careers than those with a college education. An enslaved person can reach the upper crust, which is closed to anyone with merit alone. I can teach you how."

"Why should I trust you?"

"I have a plan for you. You are the type for someone at the highest level of government.

"However, if you remain an average slave, those die very quickly here and get dumped into the desert. I would teach you in exchange for a favor I will call one day."

"What do I do?"

"Your priority is to make Badra like you. She is like a poisoned dragon. She hates all the women that Aafiya brings. To do this, you will offer her a special massage. Let me tell you..."

That evening, Aafiya returned with a unique smile on her face. She placed the headdress and veil down in the entrance hall. Delilah stood with her head low in reverence. She held out a plate with home-baked cookies. Badra ruffled in a noisy plastic bag. She pulled out a riding crop.

"Put the cookies down. I got a new riding crop. I want to test it on you before I use it on my prized horse."

Delilah, without hesitation, trained by Faaz, turned round. She pulled her bikini bottoms down and raised her little black dress. Badra was stunned by the obedience. Without paying a second, though, she swatted Delilah's butt cheek. The skin made a loud snapping sound.

"Thank you, mistress."

Badra's face was blank with amazement, "No, no, I want you to squirm and run." Delilah started gently jogging. Badra ran after her. Her riding crop swats became less accurate during the race. Occasionally, the crop licked a tender spot, and Delilah yelped. Badra let our cheers of excitement,

"You are the best house slave yet." They ran around the furniture in the living room. Both started panting.

When Badra had enough, she cut around the other side of the table. She stopped Delilah face-to-face. The riding crop pressed against Delilah's cheek. Her face was distorted. Delilah turned her head and kissed the fat leather piece at the end of the crop. "Thank you, mistress."

Badra was floored.

"Badra, I would like to offer a gift of Western massage. It feels very delicious."

The flabbergasted Badra agreed. Delilah let Badra up to the main bedroom. She softly laid
Badra down on the bed. She placed a white linen sheet over Badra. Then, she pulled off Badra's clothes under the sheet. "Don't worry, the sheet will cover you. This is how we do it in America." Then, she folded the sheet off Badra's back. She reached for the oil bottle she had placed on the bed stand in preparation.

In long strokes, her arms glided over her back. Badra relaxed, "oh, that feels good." The muscles were supple, and Delilah's hands were fluid. Badra drifted into a sweet sleep, intoxicated from the dreamy massage. Delilah covered her back again and massaged one leg at a time. By the time it was time to turn around, Badra was mushy and pliable like a lamb.

The permanent look of scorn had eased out of Badra's face.

Now, Delilah dared reach her fingers a bit under the sheets. She softly massaged Badra's top part of her breast. With each stroke, she invaded deeper into Badra's breast. Badra's resolve to say anything had melted with each stroke: "Oh, let the girl get a little closer; it's only one clumsy stroke." Thus, Badra was now full-handedly massaging Badra's breast across.

She'd turn her palms on the nipples. She could smell the sex moistening between Badra's legs. The seduction was working. Delilah covered the torso again and went to work on the thighs. Her palms stroked in circles over the thighs. The strokes got each time a quarter inch closer to the groin. Badra thought to herself that Delilah surely wouldn't touch her sex. Badra could safely let the Americans come close. However, Delilah kept going until her fingers ran up on down Badra's pussy. Badra thought to herself, let her touch there just once. It feels good.

Delilah started circling her clit. When Delilah's mouse kissed Badra's sex, Badra kept her eyes strictly closed. She did not want to ruffle a thought of her own. She wanted to stay in this dream and make herself believe she was merely getting a massage. She did not want to stop the excellent feeling. Delilah's tongue started licking toward the clit like a kitten licking up milk.

Two fingers entered Badra's pussy. Delilah's mouse sucked hard on Badra's clit. Badra's entire body was so relaxed from the massage that she did not struggle with being full-on with mouth and finger facts. Badra's mind was absorbed by the pleasure waves coursing through her whole body.

Warm lights flickered behind her closed eyelids. A wave of goosebumps chased over Badra's body. A warm orgasm followed. Delilah's tender, youthful lips kissed her body all over.

Badra sunk into a post-orgasm slumber. Delilah continued with a regular massage. Then, she tapped Badra's shoulder to rouse her. With a cheery voice, she said, "You are all done."

"You raped me!"

"No, Badra, I gave you a massage. You fell asleep. You must have had a lovely dream. You smiled like an angel."

Badra looked distrustful at Delilah, "I have a special treat for you. You have to meet our dog."

Badra made Delilah Walk down the back garden ahead of Badra. She made Delilah strip naked in the still-bright afternoon sun. Thus, naked in the garden, she felt almost like she was in Garden Eden. There was an innocence about it. Badra whistled with those flutes that emit a sound inaudible to humans. A pit bull came running. The powerful, muscular body of the dog terrified Delilah. The dog immediately jumped up on Delilah. Delilah instinctively pushed away the dog. "Don't do that. It agitates him," said Badra sharply.

Badra pushed the naked Delilah onto the floor. The dog was over-happy and licked Delilah's face. The eager tongue slobbered over eyes, ears, hair, whatever it found. Delilah froze up in terror. Badra snapped a cotton collar around Delilah's neck. She fastened Delilah's collar to the dog collar with a three-foot-long leash. Badra grinned demonically.

"Here, doggie," Badra called out, holding a yellow tennis ball. The dog is entirely focused on the ball. Delilah got up on her knees. She could not stand up because her neck was chained to the dog's neck. Badra threw the ball with glee.

The dog tried to chase the ball eagerly. Delilah fell over. The dog tried to drag the heavy human body to the ball. Delilah, choking her on her collar, tried to get back on her knees. She half got on her hands. Her legs were slim in comparison to the dog. The dog immediately took up every half-move Delilah made forward. She never had a chance to get fully into balance.

Her legs flung up. Her butt reached high. Her sex was exposed in between her legs. She fell and was dragged a foot before her body was completely flat and too heavy for the dog.

"Haha, I can play this game now all day! You are such a goof!"

When the dog returned the ball happily to Badra, Delilah had rich green grass stains on her knees. There was even a green stroke on one of her full boobs. Delilah's blond hair was completely disheveled. She was painting hard. Badra threw the ball a few more times. Then, Badra left the two in the yard. Delilah had to follow the dog wherever it roamed in the yard.

After dinner, Badra reappeared. The dog whistle summoned the dog and Delilah. Badra's face was almost worried and tender. "Could you give me another one of those American massages?"

This time, Badra was sure that Delilah was eating her pussy. However, she had developed a taste. She'd sneak during her lunch breaks home to get Delilah's massages. After a week, Badra was utterly addicted to the swirl of sex hormones that Delilah could stir in her.

Eventually, Aafiya was curious to try a massage as well. She warned him not to be startled because she was advanced. In addition to using her hands, she'd use her elbows, knees, and other body parts. Once he was under the trance of massage, she outright fucked him. She'd dip her pussy on his staff, then her ass, and her pussy again. The Arab man was out of his mind to experience such treatment. To finish it off, she would suck the ass taste of his dick.

She'd continue to massage him. He'd fall asleep. She told him that he must have dreamt.

Everyone knew the dream was a ruse. Yet, they held dear to it so they could dream again and again, a few times each day.

Delilah's power grew in the household. They showered her with expensive clothes, had handmade chocolate delivered to her by a courier who flew to Brussels to retrieve it, bought her a cute BMW with a pink bow around it, and set up a trust fund account in the Bahamas for her in case anything happened to them.

After three months, Grandfather Faaz invited Delilah into his stretch limo: "Child, you aren't going home anymore. Arrangements have been made to sell you. Aafiya fought hard to keep you. However, nobody says no to the prime minister. You have learned well. Now, it is your turn to work up to become slave number one of the prime minister. You will have a staff of ten to start. This is a whole different game. And, remember, one day, I will come to call in my favor."

The stretch limo drove into an underground structure in an abandoned and demolished part of the city. She instantly recognized that it was the place where she had been sold. Her face frowned in terror. "Don't worry, child. We are here to buy you a staff of ten."

Delilah stood in the gaggle of men. Faaz was holding a suitcase full of money. Girls were brought in with many vans. Delilah picked a good variety.

She'd touch their boobs to check if they were fake. She'd check their teeth for quality dental work. She'd swat them to find out if they were good squirmers. Squirmers were worth a premium.