Belt, check. Bowtie, check. Dress shoes, check. Jacket, check. Waistcoat, check. Trousers … No check. You know that feeling you get where it feels like your stomach is sinking through the floor but the contents feel like they might rise upwards all at the same time? Yep. That's the one. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Double check the suitbag. Double check the case. I ran out to the car. No trousers. I looked at my watch. 10:45. I only have to get to a shop. Ideally just trousers. I didn't particularly need a whole new suit. Dammit. I ran back to reception. Night clerk was nowhere to be seen (rather obviously). Instead a wide-eyed girl was behind the desk. “Hi. I'm in a bit of an emergency. Where's the nearest clothes shop?” “Sorry?” Her voice was milk-maid cute. “I need to buy a pair of trousers.” I saw her look down at my legs which were clearly not naked. “For the wedding. Today. Here. This afternoon.” “Oh. Righto. Well ...” She launched into a potted geography of the local area, punctuated. The Emir, for his part, found Nicola fascinating. She was not like any concubine or any other woman he had fucked or deflowered. It wasn’t because she was his daughter’s friend, he knew that. Having thought it over it was clear to him that along with her freely giving up her virginity to him, she was really sexually innocent at heart. Everything he did with her was novel to the girl. She had a love of bondage that pleased him but not a love of pain, which she openly admitted to him and this displeased him.Nonetheless, the Emir, in contrast to the other women of his harem, looked on Nicola as a sort of daughter to be trained in giving pleasure, and he would be the father figure to train his daughter. This was despite the fact that his real aim was to get the girl pregnant and add her permanently to his harem. He even carried her in his arms to his bed after their spanking session before properly fucking her.One of the Emir’s favourite games was fastening Nicola to a strange rectangular.
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