Becoming The Sheik (Tales from the Blossom universe)

[trio]

Teaser: The redhead's cries grew louder, and he felt his own orgasm approaching. He leaned over, whispering into her ear, "You should have sucked my dick bitch, you would have been asleep in your own soft bed by now."
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The author of this story has read and accepted the rules for posting stories. They guarantee that the following story depicts none of the themes listed in the Forbidden Content section of the rules.

The following story is a work of fiction meant for entertainment purposes only. It depicts nonconsensual sexual acts between adults. It is in no way meant to be understood as an endorsement of nonconsensual sex in real life. Any similarities of the characters in the story to real people are purely coincidental.

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Title: Becoming The Sheik (Tales from the Blossom universe)
Author: Trio

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This is an origin story of the man we know now as the Sheik from the Blossom Universe.

Blossom - Part 1 of 3: Changing
Teaser: When I opened the door to my room, I found myself face to face with Blossom, the enigmatic beauty from earlier. She was completely naked, except for what I thought was jewellery that adorned her body. It was clear that she was indeed the gift the Sheik had mentioned. Her hair cascaded down her back like a golden waterfall, framing a face that could have been sculpted by the gods themselves. Her full, flush lips parted slightly, and those piercing blue eyes looked into my soul. She was the most beautiful creature I had ever laid eyes on, and she was here for me.

Blossom - Part 2 of 3: Rising (A prequel)
Teaser: Mr. Lee had built his reputation in this shadowy world over decades of meticulous work. His training methods were renowned for their effectiveness, a blend of ancient Asian disciplines and modern psychological techniques that rendered his pupils utterly submissive and compliant. His clients were an elite group of wealthy and powerful men, Sheikhs, and emirs who sought the most exquisite and obedient companions money could buy.

Blossom - Part 3 of 3: Lost
Teaser: I couldn't help but zoom in on the image, my stomach twisting in a tornado of anger and despair. Her nipples were hard, almost tearing through the fabric. It was a clear sign of arousal. The sight of her in his arms, her body betraying her. I just knew was playing with her unprotected pussy right there, for all to see, and she was powerless to stop him.

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Becoming The Sheik

Before the Sheik was the man we now know him to be, he was a young student, brimming with the fire of youth and the entitlement of his lineage. Accepted to study Engineering and Advanced Machine Learning at MIT, he stepped into the bustling heart of Boston, a stark contrast to the opulent life he had left behind in his homeland. His days had been filled with the rigour of academia, his nights with the allure of a world where power was not just inherited, but also earned.

The young man’s expectations of American women were high, shaped by his heritage and the submissive nature of his first love, the Mediterranean beauty his father had offered him. She had served as his initiation into manhood. The one that had shared his bed and more for many months. But the fiery independence of the females in this new land was a challenge to his ingrained sense of entitlement. He found himself both intrigued and irritated by their refusal to bend to his will.

Enter the redhead with emerald eyes, a siren on the MIT campus who had captured his heart and inflamed his desires. Her sharp intellect and mysterious allure had drawn him in, and he had pursued her with the tenacity of a desert hawk stalking its prey. Her initial rejection had only fuelled his obsession. The promise of a rock concert in the city that never sleeps had been his bait, and she had bitten.

The young man, not yet the Sheik, had dressed meticulously for their night out in New York, his designer clothes a stark contrast to the simple attire of his classmates. He had hoped that the grandeur of the city, the pulse of the music, and the allure of his wealth would be enough to win her over, to make her see him as more than just another student. But as the concert came to a close, and the thrill of the music faded, she remained steadfast in her convictions. Her "no" was not a challenge to be overcome, but a boundary not to be crossed.

Their drive back to Boston was a battleground of unspoken tension. The silence was a cacophony in his ears, each mile a testament to his frustration. When she finally asked him to stop at a deserted gas station, the young man's thoughts had been a violent storm of entitlement. As she stepped away to relieve herself, his mind raced with the possibilities of the night.

The moment she returned, the storm broke. He could not bear the rejection, could not fathom a world where a woman could resist the allure of his wealth and status. His hand shot out, and she found herself on her knees, his erection before her, demanding the respect he felt she owed him. Her initial refusal had only stoked the fire of his rage, and he took what he felt was his due, pushing his manhood into her mouth. Her resistance and fear only served to inflame his desires further, and his grip tightened as she choked and struggled against him.

But instead of giving him what he had desired, she had vomited all over his fancy attire. The stench of her rejection clung to him like a shroud, and in his fury, he had struck her. The sound of her head connecting with the floorboards had brought a twisted sense of satisfaction to his ears. As he stood there, panting and furious, the reality of his situation began to dawn upon him. He had crossed a line, one that could not be uncrossed, and his future hung in the balance.

The young woman was now a problem that needed to be solved. His mind raced through the possible consequences of his actions: the scandal, the expulsion, the legal issues, the loss of face for his family. He knew he could not let this stand. In a moment of cold calculation, he made a decision that would change the trajectory of his life.

He tied her down tightly, and pushed her in the space between the front seats and the back. With her legs bent and her ankles bound together, the redhead was unable to kick anymore. She was reduced to muffled sobs and pleas, her eyes wide with terror. He knew that this was the moment of truth. He could either let her go, or take her with him, until he had a plan to get out of this mess.

The young man started the car, his mind racing with thoughts of what could happen next. He had to be smart, he had to be in control. He needed time to think, so he drove her to the only place he knew was safe, his father's warehouse apartment in Boston's harbour. Her muffled cries filled the car as he drove, contemplating his next move to avoid scandal and consequences.

She had started to buck and scream in her gag when he was queuing for a toll booth, her body jolting against the constraints of the ropes with a ferocity that made his own heart race. The operator glanced over, but the tinted windows obscured the grim picture, and the cacophony of the traffic swallowed her muffled cries. He clenched his jaw, his hand tightening around the steering wheel as he waited for the green light, his mind racing through scenarios of what could happen if they were discovered.

As they passed through, the relief was palpable. The car's tires hummed against the asphalt as he merged back onto the highway. But she was not done. The fight in her was a wildfire, and he knew he had to extinguish it before it burned him. He pulled over to the side. She was a writhing mass of bound limbs and fiery hair, her eyes spitting venom at him.

He stepped out of the car and opened the back door. Her eyes went wide with terror as he reached in and grabbed a handful of her hair, he slapped her and punched hard in her stomach. Her head slammed against the door and her body went limp. The fight was gone. The rest of the way was peaceful. He pulled the car into the secure warehouse.

The apartment was a stark contrast to the opulence of his father's palaces, but it was well stocked with the essentials. He knew he couldn't keep her here indefinitely, but for now, it was his fortress. He dragged her from the car into the cold air of the warehouse, her bare legs scraping the concrete. She was still unconscious, the makeshift gag soggy from her tears and vomit.

The sour smell of vomit lingered around them. He needed to get cleaned up first. He couldn’t stand it. Before entering the apartment he had removed both their soiled clothes. He knew he had to tie her up again, to keep her in place. He didn’t want to risk her running away, telling anyone.

Later, in the dim light of the windowless warehouse apartment, she lay on the bed, her limbs bound with ropes and her mouth filled with a washcloth. Her green eyes were wide with terror, and her chest rose and fell rapidly with fear. He felt a strange thrill at the sight of her, her fiery spirit now trapped in a vulnerable, submissive form.

He loved the sight of her in her matching lace lingerie, a stark contrast to her bruised and tear-stained face. The rage from earlier had subsided, replaced by an intense, hungry desire to break free. He stepped into the shower, the hot water washing away the sweat and grime of the night. As he cleaned himself, his mind raced with thoughts of what lay ahead.

The young man knew he had to make a decision, and soon. The idea of letting her go was becoming less appealing. He could offer her money for her silence, but her fiery spirit was not something that could be bought easily. He knew that even if she accepted his offer, she would not stay quiet for long and would turn him in to the police when she had the chance.

He stepped out of the shower, towel in hand, and walked back to the room. He studied her bound form, her legs slightly open and vulnerable. The dental floss around her big toes was a stroke of genius, keeping her legs tied and her hips flexible.

He approached the bed, his erection growing with each step. He knelt beside her, stroking her cheek gently. She flinched at his touch, her eyes still filled with defiance. He knew that this was the moment that would define her future. He leaned in, whispering in her ear. “I have decided, you’re going to be mine. You are going to become my beautiful obedient girlfriend." His words were met with a muffled scream and a futile struggle against her bonds.

He took his time, enjoying the thrill of her fear. He kissed her neck, moving down to her still covered breasts, teasing and biting her nipples through the soft fabric. She writhed beneath him, trying to pull away, but the ropes held fast. His hand slid down her stomach, his fingers escaping under the waistband of her panties. They moved over her soft patch, and to her clit. He rubbed it roughly, watching as she gritted her teeth and tried to clench her thighs together. But one hard hit across her face made her obey, and she lay still, tears streaming down her cheeks. He felt a twinge of sadism as he realised she was getting wet.

He slowly moved his fingers inside her, feeling her tightness, her body's last defence against his violation. Her eyes were squeezed shut, but the tears continued to flow. He felt the evidence of her virginity, the thin barrier that was about to be destroyed by his lust. He took a deep breath and leaned in, whispering, "I am going to make you a woman soon.” Her eyes radiating fear and anger.

He unclasped the bra from the front, releasing her breasts with a sense of triumph. They bounced slightly, the pale skin marred by the red marks from his previous touch. He leaned in and took one of her nipples into his mouth, biting down gently. She gasped, the pain shooting straight to her core despite her desperate attempts to resist. His tongue swirled around the sensitive peak, teasing and taunting her. He felt her body tense, her legs trying to close around his hand that was still delving into her wetness.

He took his time, enjoying the way her body reacted to his touch despite her mind's protest. He slid his hand out of her panties, tracing the wetness up her stomach to her neck, and then down again to cup her chin. He held her face steady, forcing her to look into his eyes. He moved down and pulled her panties down to her tied feet, exposing her to his gaze. Her soft moist flower was still untouched, but he knew that would not be the case for much longer.

He slid his body between her legs, his cock standing tall and proud, a testament to his arousal and dominance. The scent of her sweet perfume had mixed with the acrid stench of fear, creating a potent aroma that only served to excite him further. The sight of her bare pussy, glistening with her wetness, made his cock throb even more.

He positioned himself at her entrance, feeling the heat of her pussy against the tip of his manhood. He paused for a moment, savouring the power he held in his hands. Then, with a swift, brutal thrust, he pushed himself inside her, tearing through her hymen and claiming her as his. She screamed into the gag, her eyes wide with pain and horror. He took no mercy, pounding into her, feeling her tighten around him. He watched as her expression changed from fear to something else, something he hadn't quite expected.

Her eyes glazed over with a mix of pain and unwilling pleasure, her body betraying her as she began to react to his relentless rhythm. He knew he had her, that she was his now, no matter what she might say or do in the future. He could feel her walls tightening, her body preparing for the inevitable climax he would force from her. He reached down and pinched her nipples, rolling them between his fingers as he continued to thrust. Her hips bucked upward, trying to escape the pain but finding themselves only seeking more of his intrusion.

The redhead's cries grew louder, and he felt his own orgasm approaching. He leaned over, whispering into her ear, "You should have sucked my dick bitch, you would have been asleep in your own soft bed by now." He reached up and tugged at the washcloth, letting her screams fill the room as he pushed deeper into her. She was so wet now, her juices mixing with his pre-cum to form a slick symphony of sound with each thrust. Her body writhed beneath him, a canvas of passionate resistance that only served to drive him closer to the edge.

There was still a lingering scent of vomit in the air but it was overpowered by the scent of their bodies, the scent of sex. The redhead's eyes were filled with tears, her breaths coming in ragged gasps as she tried to fight the pleasure that was building within her. His rhythm grew faster, his strokes deeper, as he approached his climax. He could see the beginnings of her own orgasm, the way her body tensed and her muscles clenched around him. He knew that this moment would break her, that she would never be the same after this.

"Please no, please stop," the redhead's muffled cries grew more desperate as his thrusts grew more vigorous. But he was beyond the point of mercy. The power he held over her was intoxicating, and he was determined to claim her fully. "Please, let me go, I will tell nobody I promise, please,” she begged, her voice thick with tears. "I am not on the pill, you can't do this to me, get of me, please,” she sobbed, her eyes pleading with him.

He ignored her desperate pleas, the sight of her pain and fear only serving to excite him more. "You think you have a choice now?" he sneered, his hand tightening around her neck. “You have made your decision earlier this evening, you are mine now, and you will do as I say." His words were punctuated by harsh thrusts, each one driving her closer to the edge of submission. "You had your chance, now you'll learn your place," he whispered, his breath hot against her ear. Her eyes widened in horror as she felt her own body begin to betray her, the beginnings of an orgasm building against her will.

The sound of her muffled moan sent a thrill down his spine, and he knew he had won. He quickened his pace, his eyes locked onto hers, watching as she struggled with the realisation that she was going to climax against her will. Her body bucked and writhed, the ropes digging into her skin, but she couldn't escape the relentless pressure of his body. With one final, brutal push, he claimed her fully, feeling her pussy clench around him as she screamed into his hand. Her eyes filled with tears, and she realised with a sinking feeling that she was his.

He collapsed onto her, his chest heaving with exertion. The room was filled with the smell of their forced union, and she could feel the warmth of his cum seeping out of her. Her body was a mess of pain and confusion, her mind reeling from the trauma he had inflicted. But amidst the horror, there was a spark of something else, something darker, something that scared her even more than the thought of never seeing the light of day again.

He kept his dick buried deep inside her, feeling the aftershocks of her forced orgasm ripple through her body. He whispered that she was going to suck his dirty cock clean, and she had no choice but to comply. He moved and with trembling lips, she took his member into her mouth, tasting the remnants of herself on him. The salty tang of his cum mingled with her own juices and the metallic taste of her virginal blood, a bitter reminder of the power he held over her. He groaned with satisfaction, his hand tightening in her hair as he guided her movements. She felt his cock thicken again, and she knew this wasn’t over.

When he was nice and hard again, he move back between her legs, this time he fucked her like he owned her. She had to admit, with every thrust her body was betraying her, she felt a pleasure that she had never felt before, it was a mix of pain and pleasure that she had never experienced. She felt like she was going to hell and go to heaven at the same time. He moved his lips to hers, kissing her hard, pushing his tongue into her mouth, tasting her fear and anger. She did not react, but one twist on her nipple made her arch her back and moan in pain. He took it as a sign that she enjoyed it, so he twisted harder and fucked her even more aggressively.

She now kissed him back, seemingly forgetting the horror she was in, her eyes glazed over with a mix of pain and arousal. He could feel her body respond to his touch, her tight pussy clenching around his cock with every thrust. The young man knew he had her, that she was his to use and discard. But something strange happened, something he had never felt before. He found himself wanting more from her than just her body. He wanted her mind, her soul. He wanted her to crave his touch, his dominance. He knew he had to push her further.

He used his skills to bring her to the edge, but not over it, making her body beg for release. Her mind was a battleground of fear and lust, each emotion feeding the other in a vicious cycle. He whispered sweet nothings into her ear, calling her his good girl, how he loved the way her body felt against his. The words stung, but also sent a thrill through her body that she despised herself for feeling.

Each time she almost came, he stopped, she thought she couldn't take anymore. Her bound legs squeezing him closer, her tongue begging him for the release he was denying her. He chuckled, the sound sending shivers down her spine. He was enjoying the power he had over her, and she hated herself for it.

He took his time and she knew now she did not have a choice. She was his plaything for the night, or for as long as he wanted her. He knew how to play her body like an instrument, plucking at the strings of pleasure until she was a symphony of need. She felt his cock harden inside her, he was ready to plant his seed again. He pulled out and flipped her over, her legs still tied together. He pushed her legs closed and slammed into her pussy again, now from behind, his hand now wrapping around her throat, squeezing just enough to cut off her air. Her eyes bulged and her chest heaved as she struggled to breathe, her body on fire with pain and pleasure.

With each thrust, he grew more aggressive, his hand tightening on her throat, his hips smacking against her ass. He leaned in close, his breath hot against her ear. "You're going to come for me now," he whispered, his voice a mix of demand and sweetness that made her stomach turn. Her mind told her she didn't want to, that she couldn’t do it. But her body had other plans. Her orgasm ripped through her, tearing her apart, making her scream into the mattress. She felt his cock swell and throb, his release flooding her insides. He pulled out and she felt the loss of him acutely, her body craving for more.

He moved next to her head. "You know now what to do," he said, his voice cold and detached. “And do a good job." She looked up at him, tears streaming down her face, and took his still semi-hard cock into her mouth. She tasted her own juices, her own tears, and his cum. The taste of it all was overwhelming, but she knew better than to refuse. Her mouth moved mechanically, her eyes never leaving his. He watched her with a mix of power and satisfaction, his hand idly stroking her hair as she cleaned him.

His phone vibrated on the nightstand, jolting him out of his post-coital haze. He glanced at the screen, a sneer curling his lip as he saw his father's name. He had no doubt that the old man was calling to check in and that he forgot the time difference again. He picked up the phone, his voice laced with irritation, his dick still between her lips. "Yes, father?"

His eyes grew large when is father told him he enjoyed the show. He joked that if he still had it in himself, he should leave his cock between her sucking lips until it was hard again. His eyes went around the room to search for the cameras. The young man felt a mix of horror and excitement. He was now part of the family business, the dark side of pleasure and pain.

His father told him he was sending an associate over, to help him train his first sex slave. He felt his cock harden again at the thought of what was to come. He had never felt so powerful, so alive. He had read about the thrill of breaking someone so completely, but until now, it had always remained a fantasy. He knew that the line had been crossed and there was no turning back. He would not let this opportunity slip away. He moved between her legs for a third round.

He entered her soaking wet pussy. She moaned softly, but she did not resist anymore. He knew that she was starting to break, but he did not like to fuck an unresponsive body. He pulled out and pushed his wet cock against her tight asshole. She screamed. "No, please, not in there, I will be a good girl.” He smacked her ass cheek. "You should have moved your ass a minute ago," he said with a smirk, and pushed harder. The tip forcing its way through the ring of muscle. She screamed into the sheets. Her pitch going higher the deeper he went. She felt like she was being split in two. Her eyes watered and she felt a single tear run down her cheek. He ignored her pain and started to fuck her with a vicious rhythm, his hand in her hair, holding her in place.

She screamed with every thrust of his hips, he was not gentle, but he was not too rough either. It was a calculated move, a dance of dominance and submission. Her mind broke, her body relaxing, taking his length without resistance. He felt her muscles loosen around his cock and he knew he had won. He was going to take her in every hole, show her who was in charge. Her whimpers grew louder as he picked up the pace, her body trembling with every push. She came hard when he filled her ass with his cum.

He collapsed on her back, holding her close, his dick locked in her ass. Her body was still pulsing from the unexpected orgasm and she could feel his hot cum sink deep inside her. She wailed as he told her she was never going to be free again. That she would be trained to serve and obey, not only him but any man that he or his father sent her to. That they might sell her on the black market to the highest bidder if she did not obey them. The reality of her new life sank in and she began to sob uncontrollably.

He held her tight and told her if she’d be a good girl, she was going to be his sex slave for the rest of her natural life and that he had already chosen her slave name. From now on, she would be called “Rose". He had just wiped away her previous life with that one statement.

The next day her real training started. His father's associate did most of the work, but he was excited to help. The apartment was well-equipped for their training needs, with a variety of devices that she had never seen before. The man, a Russian, was a professional in the art of breaking a girl's spirit. He had been with the family for years and was known for his ruthlessness and efficiency.

But there was still one problem. Unfortunately she had told some of her friends about their plans together. So he needed an ironclad alibi and a different timeline for her disappearance. The Russian had found a body double, that in combination with an expensive red wig and some sunglasses, made an excellent substitute. They made sure she was seen across campus on several days, and in different outfits that matched her style.

He had ordered her usual from the local Chinese restaurant. Some of her books had been returned to the library and on Monday morning the report she had talked about in the car on their way to New York, had been turned in. In the meantime, he had told some people it hadn't worked out and that they had decided to just remain friends. He had made sure to play it casual. When talking to one classmate they both had waved to the substitute riding the redhead's bike. It had been a perfect setup. She had been reported missing days later, and nobody ever connected him to her disappearance, but he made sure he had solid alibis for those days.

After all that, his days had become a blend of academia and his newfound passion for dominance. He would spend his mornings and afternoons in the classroom, absorbing knowledge of engineering and machine learning, his mind racing with innovative ideas. Yet, the evenings were mostly reserved for Rose's training. He had discovered a thrill in watching her squirm under his touch, her eyes wide with fear and anger that eventually melted into submission.

His father's doctor had prepared her body for servitude. His injections made sure she would never again get her period and her immune system had been boosted to the maximum to keep her in excellent condition. The side effect of the drugs was that her body would now be even more sensitive to pain and pleasure. But the best thing was that her pussy would be always in a state of arousal. She would need these injections every six months.

On campus, the young man had cultivated a charming persona, the quintessential genius with a flair for the dramatic. His classmates and teachers saw him as a driven, slightly eccentric young man, a prodigy destined to change the world. Yet, none of them knew the dark secrets he kept locked away in his father's apartment. He still made time to charm the local college girls. His dark eyes and charismatic smile had a way of making them feel special, like they were the only woman in the room. He had several relationships, but none to serious. They never suspected the monster lurking beneath his designer clothes and intellectual veneer.

Months passed by and they were ready to smuggle Rose to the Middle East. In her last weeks on US soil, she was the young man's obedient lover, fulfilling his every need. He even lent her out to one of his professors when he had not finished a project on time. She had to do whatever was necessary to ensure that he passed his classes. He was now blackmailing this professor as he had full recordings of his sessions with her in his father’s penthouse suite in New York. The professor had fucked a woman that had disappeared from campus months ago, and the young man had the evidence to proof it.

They had flown her to the Middle East the next day. He had promised her he would visit over the holidays, but he never did. A few days later, his dad had sent him pictures of Rose sucking him while he was in a business meeting. He was amazed, he could still learn so much more from this man.

In his four years on campus, six more ravishing girls disappeared from the area between Boston, and New York. The police had even interviewed him once, as one of the girls had been his lab partner for the semester. People had seen him hit on her unsuccessfully several times.

She had screamed and cried when he told her all about the police investigation, with his dick buried deep in her warm pussy. On how the police had her boyfriend in custody, convinced he had killed her and made her body disappear in the university's plasma oven. He told her that it didn't help that he had planted enough evidence in her boyfriend's apartment, so that the police also suspected him of being a serial killer, the one responsible for all the girls disappearing. "You should have fucked me when I asked," he had whispered into her ear. "It would have been so much more pleasant for you," and he added with a big smile, "certainly for your boyfriend."

She had cried for two days straight. The news stories of her boyfriend's arraignment and trail had helped to break her completely. The one scene of his battered body after his fellow inmates had beaten him almost to death and had raped him repeatedly, had broken her spirit. Dahlia, the girl with a 160 IQ is now serving his father's guests on the family’s yacht.

The last girl, a beautiful blond with long soft hair and the most amazing blue eyes, was now sucking his cock. She was naked and tied to perfection. He leaned back in his plush chair, watching the ocean move slowly below him. His family's private jet flying him back home. He had graduated summa cum laude, not only because of his academic work but also due to the power he held over some of his professors. The blond's mouth was a warm, wet haven of pleasure, her eyes looking up at him with a mix of absolute fear and a desire to please. Her name was Lila, a fresh recruit not yet fully trained.

Her hands were still covered with the small sacks, each one tightly secured with a sturdy knot at the wrist. It was a simple, yet effective method to prevent her from scratching or harming anyone during the early stages of her training. The material was smooth, allowing for just some small movement. It was a sight that never failed to excite him, a reminder of the control he had over these stunning creatures.

This one had been a star student, a promising future ahead, but now she was his. He had watched her for weeks, her fiery spirit and defiance a siren's call to his darker desires. He had seen her resist many advances, men had thrown themselves at her. Her fierce independence had only made him crave her more.

He had taken a risk. Before he had taken her to the apartment, he had raped her in her own private room on campus. He had felt the power surge through him when he had her body tightly bound and her mouth gagged. The room was silent except for the muffled sounds of her whimpers. He had taken her virginity in her own bed, the very place she had felt safe. His cock has moved in and out of her sweet pussy while people were roaming the hallways, laughing and yelling, not knowing what horror was taken place behind that closed door. He had whispered into her ear all the plans he had for her. Torturing her with his words while he took everything from her, a small piece with every thrust. They had moved her off campus that night, her room emptied and staged to mimic a hasty departure.

After he had heard that Rose had been sold to an Afghani warlord, he had chosen Lila to be the first of his own stable, the first he’d possess entirely on his own.

—

Life in the little Middle Eastern kingdom had changed after the war on terror had begun. The young man had become the CEO of his family's business empire. His foresight had been the wind that had changed the direction of their operations. He had seen the writing on the wall when the twin towers had fallen, and he had urged his father to pivot their focus. His involvement in the shadows with the NSA's machine learning framework had been a lucrative venture, one that had made him far richer than his father could ever comprehend.

The young man had made millions selling his designs and debugging the solutions that were build on top of it. He was far richer than his father had ever been. He had kept his side ventures hidden from the old sheik's watchful gaze. His empire grew in the shadows, built on a foundation of dark secrets and illicit deals. Meanwhile, his personal life had evolved as well. Lila had become his devoted servant, a symbol of his power and control. Her fiery spirit had been tamed, and she now woke him each morning with her mouth, eager to satisfy his desires before he faced the day's challenges.

His engagement to the general's daughter had been a strategic move. Initially met with his skepticism, the general had been swayed by the young man's charm and prowess, a bond solidified during a week-long cruise on the family yacht. The wedding was a grand affair, a union of two powerful families under the guise of tradition. When his wife became pregnant, the young man knew it was time to move his whole family to London. He wanted them to live their lives in a place where their wealth and power could flourish, without the constant shadow of danger and scrutiny that lurked in the Middle East.

His father had kept dealing in weapons and sex trafficking, but the son had seen the writing on the wall. The world was changing, and the old ways would not stand much longer. The winds of change had blown hard, and even the mighty could not resist their force. With the family's wealth now in his hands, the young man had shifted their focus. The opulent palaces and the sprawling estates remained, but their true power now lay in the gleaming towers of Silicon Valley and the boardrooms of Wall Street.

One day his father's indiscretions had come back to bite him when his plane got shot down over the desert. The Americans had sent a message, a message that was clear as the desert sky: change your ways or face the consequences. The son had been devastated by his father's death, but also knew that he had to act fast. He had called a meeting with the remaining members of his father's old guard, laying out a new vision for their future. He was the Sheik now.

Under his guidance the little kingdom would grow to become the safe haven he needed it to be. He had decided to modernise his slave trade, but he knew that times were not just right to execute on it. It was time to clean house, to eliminate any ties to the old ways that could bring him or his new family down. The first step was to cut off the head of the snake. He had made sure his father's closest advisors and associates had made it onto the NSA's hit list. Second, he needed to sell off the last of the girls to the highest bidder and make sure no one knew who was behind the deals. All but Lila of course, she was his for now.

The construction of his new home was a marvel of modern engineering. It was a sprawling complex, surrounded by a thick wall that gleamed in the desert sun, a fortress that was both welcoming and impregnable. Inside, there was a main house, large enough to host state dinners and hold his growing family. But it was the smaller cabins that truly reflected his new priorities. They were not just for staff, but for his family's security. Each cabin had been designed with the latest in surveillance technology, ready to be converted into a bunker at a moment’s notice. And then there was the real bunker dug deep into the earth, a place where his family could hide from the storms that he knew were brewing. Or that was the story he told about his new home. His family would never see it.

The next ten years he had spent meticulously crafting his empire of influence. The young Sheik had worked tirelessly alongside the king, transforming their dusty kingdom into a gleaming metropolis that drew envy from the world over. They had interwoven tradition with innovation, creating a city that pulsed with the excitement of progress and the allure of ancient opulence. His engineering prowess had not gone to waste, as he had overseen the construction of towering skyscrapers that kissed the sky, and advanced infrastructure that had turned their desert lands into a hub of technology and commerce.

Yet, amidst the gleaming steel and glass, he had not forgotten his own personal passion. He had continued to train and sell his handpicked beauties, using his skills to shape them into the perfect vessels of pleasure for the highest bidder. These transactions were not just about wealth; they were about power. The power to bend the will of another, to sculpt them into your most devoted servant, was a thrill that money could never buy.

He had to admit, he was a master rapist. He loved to manipulate people, but what he loved the most was to penetrate an unwilling body and make it his own. Feeling the body of his victim tightening around his cock was something that money couldn't buy. Looking in their fearful eyes when you take away their most precious possession was the ultimate power trip.

He had turned a little Dutch runaway into the perfect ass slut. The way she moaned and begged for his cock was music to his ears. He had picked her up on a trip to Amsterdam, her red hair and blue eyes a stark contrast to the girls in his own country. He had promised her a future beyond her wildest dreams, a way out of the squalor of her life, and she had followed him willingly. What she didn't know was that her stepfather signed a contract with the Sheik for her training. He wanted her pussy untouched, but her ass and mouth trained to perfection. Four months later he had delivered on the contract, yet another masterpiece. He had trained her in three, but he kept her for the extra month as he loved that little ass. One day he stayed in her for more than four hours, he had gone limp a few more times he was willing to admit, but I loved the felling of his cock growing inside that toasty tight little cavern. This little redhead’s ass gave him so much pleasure, it had transported him back to his humble beginning. That little redhead that had started all this.

Lila had always been his crowning achievement, his prize possession. But as time had worn on, her spark had begun to dim, the fiery spirit of the MIT co-ed fading into the dull glow of a well-trained servant. His desire for the thrill of the hunt had pushed him to move on, he would need to expand his horizons. That's when he heard whispers of a man in China, a master in the art of transforming human beings into living, breathing works of erotic art.

He had sent Lila to this man, a journey shrouded in secrecy. The young Sheik had received weekly updates on her progress, each one detailing the rigorous training regimen she endured. Her body was sculpted to perfection, her mind honed to a single purpose: to serve and satisfy. When she returned, she was indeed a marvel. Her once fiery spirit had been extinguished, leaving behind a shell of obedience and submission. Her eyes, once emerald pools of intelligence and defiance, had turned into a dull shade of lifelessness. Yet, she remained exquisitely beautiful, her body a canvas of perfection, her pussy moist and tighter than ever.

For three more years, Lila served him, her every movement a silent testament to the Chinese specialist's mastery. Her body was his playground, her moans his symphony. Yet, as time went by, he grew restless. He needed more. He craved the thrill of the hunt again, the challenge of breaking a new soul. And so, the Sheik made his move. He approached the Chinese government, proposing a deal that would bring this master of human manipulation to his kingdom.

The negotiations were tense, but the promise of unlimited resources and a kingdom to call his own was too tempting for the specialist to resist. He agreed to move to the Middle East, bringing with him a team of the most skilled trainers and surgeons. The young Sheik had the perfect fortress in the desert, one that blended the grandeur of tradition with the gleaming steel of modernity. It was here that the specialist would set up his new academy, churning out obedient beauties for the highest bidder. His bunker had been the ideal place to start, with its hidden chambers and state-of-the-art surveillance, it was the perfect prison for the human commodities they would break and reshape.

He eventually had sold Lila to a Columbian drug lord, a man known for his insatiable appetite for submission. He’d earned a tidy profit, but the thought of her in another man's arms was a thorn in his side. He had found her, he had trained her and he had owned her for such a long time. He might have even loved her, to a certain extent, like you love your old teddy bear or a new piece of technology. He had fucked her in the ass one last time while the drug lord was locked in her throat. They had signed the transfer agreement on her flayed back. This man was an expert in torture and pain.

The Sheik had moved on. He had other girls to train and break. But he had never forgotten Lila. When he had heard she had killed herself a few months later in a most gruesome way, his heart had ached for a brief moment. The Columbian had ordered two more girls to be trained, not a month after receiving Lila. The Sheik had made sure these two were even more perfect than Lila had ever been. He had learned from her, and her death had brought him a strange sort of peace.

Mr. Lee had turned his desert fortress into a factory of pleasure and pain. The young women that entered were from every corner of the world. Some were bought from poor families, most were abducted, and others were simply born into the life. The selection process was rigorous, and only the most beautiful and resilient made it to the final stages.

The training was meticulous and cruel. The girls were taught to endure every conceivable act of degradation and pain. Their bodies sculpted into works of art, their minds programmed to serve. Each one was a blank canvas for Mr. Lee's twisted brush. They were taught to perform every imaginable sexual act, to satisfy the most perverse desires of their future owners. The smell of fear and sex hung heavy in the air, a constant reminder of their fate.

Mr. Lee's academy churned out more than fifteen of these elite sex slaves every year, each one a masterpiece of manipulation. The Sheik had come to see the beauty in their broken spirits, the allure of absolute power. These girls were the crème de la crème, destined for the most discerning clients who could afford the exorbitant price tags that accompanied them. The rest, the ones who didn't quite measure up, became the ‘knockoffs’. They were still highly sought after, but their value was in their quantity, not their quality.

As the years passed, the Sheik's hunger grew. His palate craved more than just the physical submission of his sex slaves; he desired to control the very fabric of their existence. His latest whims led him to orchestrate elaborate scenarios where his girls played a starring role in the downfall of powerful men. He had them trained not only in the art of pleasure but in the art of deceit, turning their beauty and innocence into weapons of psychological warfare.

One of his favourite games was to introduce one of his creations into the life of his target, most of the time a high-profile businessman or politician, allowing her to weave a seductive web around them. He would watch from the shadows as she whispered sweet nothings and coaxed secrets from their lips. The thrill of watching these men crumble under the weight of their own lust was a newfound aphrodisiac for the Sheik. He revelled in the power of his creations, the way they could make or break a man's life with a single glance.

He controlled his possessions with the cold precision of technology. Each of his girls now adorned with jewellery that connected to and contained an advanced AI surveillance system. Each piece made for the person who wore it, locked securely in place, the gems that adorned them mirrored the colour of their eyes. The system was a silent sentinel, an ever-watchful guardian that recorded their every move, every whisper, and every silent tear. Technology was his first love, the one constant in his life of power and dominance.

Lately he had asked Mr Lee to scout for a blond blue eyed angel. The contrast between an celestial beauty and the corruption to come was a temptation he could barely resist. He was presented with twenty dossiers of possible prospects and he chose just one — Daisy. In his mind, she was the pièce de résistance, the one who would make his heart race like a teenage boy's at the mere thought of her mouth wrapped around his cock. He had to have her.

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Please check out my other Blossom stories ... I hope you have as much fun reading as I had writing them. I might have fallen for her too.

[DeckerDary13]

Awesome story!

[trio]

Thank you so much. After I wrote the original Blossom story a few years ago, I scribbled some notes on how the Sheik came to be, I always wanted to tell his story. I am glad you like it.

Awesome story!