Claire let out a big sigh of resignation. Perhaps her natural colors would return over time. She’d watch her roots carefully to see if her new hair growth was black or blonde. That would probably tell if she was going to stay this way. And if her eyes started to lighten …

  “Ok, Saida. Let’s go play make-up. Maybe that’ll help me get used to this. At least until I see what’s going to happen over time.”

  “Hmm … Looks like we’re not needed here,” Elliot observed. “I guess I’ll give you another chance to beat me at squash, Ali.” He thought Saida’s makeup distraction might help Claire get over the shock.

  “You realize, my brother, that I let you win yesterday.”

  “In your dreams, Ali. In your dreams.”

  * * * * *

  After the makeup session, Saida suggested that she teach Claire to belly-dance. “That will give you an excellent chance to show off the gorgeous stone in your navel, Claire. In fact, if I didn’t have what seems to be a piercing phobia, I’d ask you accompany me to arrange to have similar jewelry made. Unfortunately, when it comes to being stuck by a sharp needle, I’m a – how do you say it – I’m a turkey. I wish I had the courage to get mine done like yours. I just love the sexy look of your jewel.”

  “I think you mean you’re chicken. I still love my bellybutton jewel too. It’s real, you know.”

  “Ah, yes, I’m a chicken. Of course it’s real, neither Elliot nor Ali would ever buy anything else!”

  They both giggled at the marvelous arrogance of their men.

  “I’ve never belly-danced,” Claire admitted.

  “Then, it’s time you learned.”

  That evening Claire and Saida dressed for dinner in harem-like pantaloons, a silk scarf tied around their necks, several rings on fingers and toes, and a little pillbox hat tipped slightly to the left, their hair full and flowing. They were topless. Claire’s nipple rings were connected by a loose chain. Both wore makeup in rich, dark colors: tawny red on lips and nipples, eye shadow in deep browns and golds, smooth, rich, dark foundation with umber on their cheeks and eyes lined in blackest kohl - in Claire’s case, on top of her permanent eyeliner - in the ancient, Middle-Eastern style. Both looked ravishing; Ali and Elliot were overcome with the sight of them.

  They had a delicious dinner of Kurdish lamb steaks - leg-of-lamb sliced in one-inch steaks and grilled with salt, pepper, and onion powder; seasoned giant mushrooms - grilled top-down so the vanes filled with succulent juices; grilled tomatoes; Persian rice - cooked over a layer of browned, sliced potatoes; and a fresh cucumber and spices salad. The girls became the dessert as they belly-danced to Middle-Eastern music.

  Claire had gotten very good at the dance, very quickly. Saida thought Claire was a natural at the sensuous gyrations. So did Elliot. Her Arabian Nights pantaloons, chained nipple rings, the jewel in her navel, and her flowing black hair created an erotic mix of incredible power. He was speechless as he watched Claire and Saida sway sensuously and roll their tummies to the strains of slow-then-fast- then-faster Arabic music.

  Finger cymbals popping, Claire danced, her bottom vibrating at impossible speed, up against Ali in a tease that left Ali with eyes bulging as she spun over to Elliot. Her gyrations continued as she danced before him, her ornamented tummy rolling as her hips shook and her pussy was thrust out. She was a natural talent, and Saida let her take control of the dance. Elliot felt sweat form at his temples and forehead as Claire’s body moved boldly with such sexuality that he could barely contain himself. Saida moved in slow, sensuous counterpoint in front of Ali.

  Ali was so aroused that he vowed to take possession of Saida, that night, for all time. He was determined that Saida would be his, always. The men led their women off to their suites just after the dance; it would have been agony to wait any longer.

  On all fours, Claire knelt above Elliot. Her coarse, ebony hair gloriously surrounded her. The piercing look of her dark eyes seemed to peer into the very fabric of his being. He felt her nipple rings against him as she lay atop him to kiss him passionately. He could feel her juices drip, drip from her tumescent cunt. His already-full erection swelled further. Her arms were behind his head as she kissed him with her tongue, probing his mouth. She lifted up, kneeling astride him and lowering her pussy onto his profoundly engorged manhood. She felt his shaft slide up into her thoroughly wet sheath. Joined, she lay atop him again as her hips began their involuntary thrusts up and down along his rock-hard cock.

  Her long, raven hair encased his head in a curtain of midnight, as her vagina encased his penis. She was utterly in control. He felt her pussy precess around his shaft. The sensation was insanely pleasurable. His hips bucked upward, seemingly of their own accord, forcing his steel-hard erection further into her. Claire cried out with her own arousal.

  Her mouth consumed his as her body pressed against him. Elliot could feel everything that had been done to her: her clit ring pressing against the base of his penis, her long, thick, black hair, the rings through her nipples, the huge jewel in her navel, her labia rings surrounding his penis and pressing against his genitals, her earrings against his nose and cheeks. The astounding awareness of everything about her amazed him. His senses had never been so vibrant, so alive, so full of Claire.

  Her vagina begin to squeeze him: tight-loose, tight-loose, in pulses of vivid pleasure. Her entire body shuddered with the vibrations of her own arousal. Then there was one more squeeze as her sheath gripped him tightly and held him in its grip as they both came. He exploded into her and her movement up and down on him became frantic as her orgasms rolled over her in wave after wave.

  Finally spent, she collapsed onto him, limp from exertion and after-sex.

  * * * * *

  It was a few days later. Claire was getting used to her long, brunette hair and dark eyes, though she wasn’t particularly fond of either. Having been short-haired or bald for months, all that hair suddenly appearing on her was uncomfortable, unkempt and bothersome. The individual hairs seemed thicker, coarser and much wavier/curlier than her blonde hair had been. That added to her perception of being covered with a hot mass of tresses. She’d apparently gotten used to having hair off her shoulders and now, suddenly, it was constantly tickling her there, on her back, on her neck and on her face.

  She’d talked about cutting it, but the others had all encouraged her to tough it out – just to be different for a while. She’d decided to go along for a week or two to see how it went. But she was still going to look for the Berber women when they, hopefully, returned to the bazaar next week. She wanted her blue eyes and blonde hair back and, probably, her lighter complexion too.

  Meanwhile, she and Saida were becoming fast friends. They were about the same age and were interested in similar things, in spite of the fact that they’d grown up in vastly different cultures.

  They talked, played backgammon and squash, belly danced and even cooked some gourmet meals for the four of them – much to the chagrin of the palace’s kitchen staff. They all had gone out to several of the night spots that were available to western or westernized couples on the oasis. Claire and Saida planned a day-trip to Dubai for shopping. They’d go on Ali’s private jet, with the faithful Aga Rezai as their chaperone.

  Hearing this gave Ali an idea.

  "My friend," Ali said to Elliot, "why don't we go hunting in the mountains for a week or so and let Claire and Saida spend some quiet time here in the palace. They can go to Dubai while we’re away. As it happens, I’ve got a newly trained falcon I’m anxious to try.”

  "Thanks for the offer, Ali, but I don't think Claire would feel comfortable here with just Saida and the staff and neither of us. Besides, I rather like the idea of lounging around here for a while, if you don’t mind.”

  "Oh bull," Claire replied. She knew he wanted to go with his friend and refused to be in the way. Besides, did he think she’d become so dependent on him that she needed to be with him twenty-four hours a day?

  "Darling, go with Ali and have some male-bonding fun. Saida and I will be fine until you return. I’ll see if I can come up with some other surprises for you.”

  “I don’t know if my heart could handle any more surprises, Claire,” he laughed.

  "Well?" Ali asked, understanding in his voice. Claire had just scored points with him. He was becoming convinced that the American woman knew how to treat the real man he knew his friend to be.

  Elliot looked at Claire, searching for the sincerity in her demeanor. Apparently, he found it. “Okay Ali, my friend. Let’s put our things together tomorrow and head out the next day.

  The day after they left, Claire and Saida spent several hours on Ali’s satellite-based Internet connection, planning their two-day trip to Dubai. They’d decided to spend one night at the supposedly seven-star, Burj Al Arab Hotel. Claire almost choked when she saw the price. “We’ll split it,” she told Saida.

  “Nonsense. Ali would never allow it. This is pocket change to Ali – to your consort too. We’ll buy each of them a little trinket.”

  “And maybe sexual favors too,“ Claire added with a conspiratorial grin. Saida smiled in agreement.

  Alas, it was not to be.

  Claire was roused in the middle of the night from a deep slumber atop the soft, silk pillows with gold brocade trim, on which she slept naked in the suite she shared with Elliot. It was Saida, who asked her to come quickly into the media room, as there was disturbing news in the sultanate. Apparently, Agha Rezai had just awakened her.

  A veiled woman commentator was speaking in Arabic. Saida translated for Claire as quickly as she could, stumbling every once in a while as she struggled to keep up. Fortunately, the commentator was speaking slowly, apparently carefully annunciating each Arabic word.

  "Last evening, the Most High One (the Sultan) decided to take a few days rest away from the affairs of state, which have pressed upon him during his recent time among his subjects as he toured our land. Shortly after he left the sultanate, armed members of the conservative faction entered the grounds surrounding the Sultan’s palace and seized it. Other armed members of this reactionary group have seized properties throughout the sultanate, in an opportunistic attempt to force the government’s hand in setting a clear, conservative direction for the future of the state.”

  “Are they saying there’s a coup?” Claire, in shock, asked Saida.

  “There’s at least an attempt to put pressure on the Sultan to bend to the will of the conservatives.”

  “What do we do? We don’t need to leave the country, do we?”

  “I don’t know, Claire. Agha Rezai is trying to contact Ali by satellite phone even as we speak.”

  A man appeared on the screen. His face, a precursor of an older Ali, was immediately familiar from his picture. It was Ali’s uncle, the Emir.

  Saida watched him silently for a few minutes. Finally she turned to Claire.

  “Ali’s uncle is basically calling for calm and restraint. He’s currently in Kuwait and is leaving to come back here. He makes points important to both sides. At least, I think that’s true, based on what I know of the politics here.”

  “Should we get on the jet and get out of here?” Claire asked.

  “Unfortunately, the jet made a trip to Jeddah for some upgrades and was scheduled to come back here tomorrow. That way, it was to be ready to take us to Dubai after we tried to find the Berbers and make you blonde again. Under the circumstances, I doubt that there’s any chance it will return on time.”

  Before Claire could ask anything else, Agha Rezai came in with the satellite phone. He handed it to Saida, who quickly put it on speaker.

  Ali and Elliot had already ridden on horseback well into the northern forests. It would take them some time to return, assuming they could arrange early transportation and get through any roadblocks the rebels had set up. Ali suggested that he personally call his uncle’s palace to see if Saida and Claire would be safer there, even though his uncle was currently in Kuwait. He’d call right back.

  He did. Saida put him back on speaker.

  Ali related what had happened when he’d called the Emir’s palace. As soon as he’d gotten through, Ali had found that the Emir’s staff had basically locked-down the place. They expected that either the religious-conservative or liberal factions, or both, might try to search the edifice, looking for what they would consider unidentified foreign subversives, in spite of their mutual respect for the Emir. As a result, the Palace Agha had decided to admit no one, until the Emir himself returned.

  Ali had been at a loss as to what to do, yet he was convinced that the palace of the Emir – who was regarded at least somewhat favorably by both sides – was the safest place for Saida and Claire, until he and Elliot could get back from the hunting trip. Then, still on the phone with the Palace Agha, he’d remembered something his uncle had mentioned in passing several weeks ago.

  “What about the two new concubines the Emir is adding to his harem?” Ali had asked. “As it happens, I have them at my oasis domicile, where their parents were told to send them. I promised my dear uncle that I would arrange transportation to get them to his palace a few days from now. I’m concerned about their safety at my home, since they are both from outside the sultanate. In addition, my oasis is surrounded by members of both factions.”

  That was, of course, a complete fabrication (except that the oasis was in the midst of conservatives and liberals and both Saida and Claire were foreign). Ali would straighten all that out with his uncle when he saw him, after everyone was safe.

  The Palace Agha had known of the new additions to the harem, but hadn’t realized, of course, that Ali was responsible for getting them there, since that was Ali’s bold-faced lie. The Agha hemmed and hawed about what to do – Ali could picture him rubbing his hands together in indecision. Finally, Ali just told him he’d send them immediately with the Agha Rezai, and to expect them later that afternoon.

  “WHAT?!” Claire had exclaimed. Ali responded, apologetic in the extreme.

  “I’m sorry, dear Claire. When I understood the situation, I had to think quickly. The palace staff can be a bit skittish when it comes to political threats. That was the best I could come up with on the spear of the moment.”

  “You mean spur,” Saida had said.

  “Okay, whatever. Anyway, they’ll be expecting two harem initiates in the next half-day or so. They will hold Claire and Saida in apartments outside the harem for three days, since I told them I wanted to personally inspect the women before releasing them to my uncle’s eunuchs. That should give Elliot and me enough time to get there, retrieve the two of you, and be on our way out of the sultanate to somewhere safe. Is the Honored Agha still there?”

  “Yes, Master Ali.” Rezai had said.

  “Rezai, my friend, please do what you can to disguise Saida and Claire and arrange their safe passage to the Emir’s palace. Go yourself if you can. Then you may return to the oasis when you deem it safe. Please care for my estates until I can return.”

  “When will you join us?” Saida asked.

  “With good fortune, in a day. If not, than as soon as we can, even if we encounter difficulties. We have three days to make the journey, if we need it. The Palace Agha will not wait beyond three days. He made the point that he’s not running a hotel for harem initiates. But the worst that could happen, once you’re at the Palace, is that we’re delayed and you enter the harem. In that case, we’ll simply tell uncle what’s happened and they’ll release you.”

  “Be careful, Ali,” Saida pleaded, obviously more concerned about Ali.

  “Tell Elliot to be careful and not to take any chances,” Claire added.

  “He’s heard you, Claire. I am embarrassed and sorry this has happened.”

  “Not your fault, Ali,” she said. IT’S ALL YOUR FAULT, she thought.

  “I’ll be there quickly. I love you, Darling,” she heard Elliot say. Then the line went dead.

  Holy Mother of God! She was being sent to a harem!

  Chapter 11: Harem

  It was a strenuous, four-hour trip on deteriorating roads at the best of times. They were stopped in their limo – a converted Hummer - about half-way to the Emir’s palace, by a platoon of loyalist troops. The driver and the Agha Rezai easily proved their identification when asked. Agha Rezai explained that the two women, completely covered in black, were foreign maidens in Ali’s care whom Rezai was taking to the Emir’s harem. They had no papers as yet, and those would be restricted anyway, since they would, of course, rarely, if ever, leave the harem once there.

  Agha Rezai suggested that the platoon leader simply call the Emir’s palace, and ask for the Palace Agha. Once they managed to get through on a poorly-working land line, the Palace Agha confirmed Rezai’s story. The loyalist lieutenant was still hesitant. He asked a woman official who was with him to take a look at and evaluate the alleged harem initiates.

  Claire and Saida were taken to a small shed near the checkpoint. They were told to remove their burkhas. They stood there, eyes downcast, looking exactly like two submissive, embarrassed, Arab women. The woman official mumbled something about them being innocent enough, and told them to don their burkhas and follow her back outside. Claire didn’t understand, but followed Saida’s lead and again covered herself in the traditional garment. Once they were back with the Agha Rezai, the woman said something to the platoon leader, and followed her message with a dismissive gesture.

  They were allowed to move on.

  Pressing to get to the palace before dark, they ate their meal in the Hummer as the driver maneuvered along the sandy, rutted, barely two-lane road. At dusk they approached the gated, walled city, the color of desert sand, which was the base from which the Emir ruled. A quick call to the palace and another brief inspection of Claire and Saida by yet another woman got them through the city portal. At the palace, they drove through a high, iron-barred gate, across a very dusty courtyard, and into the building itself. They were met by the Grand Eunuch and his nephew, the eunuch Aziz. Aziz was to take charge of the initiates and see to their preparation for and introduction to the seraglio.