Desert Dreams


I had never expected it to happen to me. Usually these things happened only to

girls in fairy tales, not secretaries.

It had been a whirlwind romance. I had met Jerry at an embassy reception. Somehow

we had connected and spent the rest of the evening together, chatting about this

and that. It was only later that I found out he was a Crown Prince. Had I known I

would never have had the nerve, with me being only a humble secretary to one of

our junior diplomats.

He was charming, sophisticated and handsome. The result of royal blood and a

European education I guess. I knew I was only there for adornment. Even the

expensive dress wasn't mine. It was a perk of the job, but it went back to the

central wardrobe after such occasions. All us prettier girls from the embassy

were routinely cycled to the various receptions and parties just to look pretty

and stand in the background being pleasant to visiting dignitaries.

His name wasn't really Jerry, of course. He did try to tell me what it was, but I

couldn't quite get my vocal chords round it sufficiently to do it justice. He was

happy with Jerry though. It was the name he had adopted during his days at Oxford.

I wasn't supposed to do it, and all the other girls warned me not to, but I had

to. We started meeting on a regular basis. He would show up in a beat up old

Range Rover and drive me off into the desert, for illicit sex and champagne. He

wasn't supposed to drink alcohol, but then I wasn't supposed to screw the locals


One day he asked me to leave my job and live with him in his palace in the

desert. I turned him down, of course. But he kept insisting. In the end I said

I'd compromise and take a week off work to see his palace, but only on the

condition I would be safely back at work the following Monday. He graciously

accepted my offer and so we did.

It was magnificent. Just like you'd expect, or dream, a desert palace would be. I

was somewhat taken aback by the dozens of luxury sports cars in the courtyard. It

dawned on me that maybe Jerry was wealthier than I had imagined.

The week flew by in a blur, a mix of fantasy and dream. Servants fluttered around

us like butterflies. I was dressed in the most expensive clothes imaginable and I

got my first chance to drive expensive European sports cars. I couldn't believe

all this was happening to me.

On the last day of the week he asked me to stay with him forever. We had just

made exquisite love on an animal skin in front of a roaring fire. I said yes. He

said he would see to it that all the arrangements were made and I wouldn't have

to trouble myself with anything.

The next morning I was descended upon by an army of the Prince's employees. I was

washed, shaved, perfumed and pampered. Eventually a female doctor came in and

told me I had to be prepared for the Prince. This involved body piercing. I was

too overwelmed to object. I was taken to a wing that had a full medical facility

and laid on a table with my feet in stirrups. She sprayed me with a local

anesthetic. I asked if she was sure this was what the Prince wanted; she assured

me all his wives went through this. I was suddenly jolted back to reality. "All

his wives?" I thought. I hadn't seen hide nor hair of any other wives in the week

I'd been here.

The doctor held up a mirror and showed me her handy work. I now had a row of

small gold rings down each side of my labia. It hadn't hurt at all, but I

suspected it might when the anesthetic wore off. She carefully threaded a small

gold chain through the rings in a criss- cross pattern like a corset. She gently

pulled the two ends together and snapped them shut with a miniature padlock. My

sex was now symbolically sealed, though not enough to prevent menstrual flow. She

handed the key to me and told me I was to present it to the Prince at a formal

ceremony the next day. I admired my newly adorned pussy in the mirror. It was a

strange, but arousing sight. The doctor smiled and wiped away a trickle of

lubrication. She told to save it for later.

Jerry was seated on a splendid throne, and he was dressed in traditional robes. I

was dressed in a wonderful creation of high French fashion. I felt like a million

dollars. I solemnly strode up to him, curtseyed deeply, and held up the red

velvet cushion on which my special key lay.

He looked down at me and smiled. Picking up the key, he kissed it and held it up

to me between his finger and thumb. He solemnly attached it to a necklace he was

wearing. He told me he looked forward to a year from now, when he would see me

again. In a daze I was led away to a part of the palace I'd never been to before.

It was there that I found out that the youngest wife must earn her place. Once a

year the Prince took a new bride. For her first year her only role was to see to

the pleasure his other wives.

I looked around at the nine smiling faces of my fellow brides. I hoped I would

get used to the taste of gold and pussy juice.

The End


Would You Hold Her For Me Please?

I pushed the pram along the edge of the lake. The newly rising sun cast a golden

glow across the water. The waterfowl darted about, energetically looking for

food. I stopped to admire the scene of tranquil beauty that lay before us. I

squatted down, smiling at my six month old baby daughter. She looked at me

sweetly and gurgled contentedly. I shielded my eyes and looked back out across

the still water and sighed.

I checked my watch. Only another hour till I had to report to the officials. I

didn't feel tired, even though I'd been walking all night. Little Jean had slept

most of the time, snug in her heated baby suit.

"Where does the time go, little one?" I said. She giggled and carefully put her

hand out to touch my face, her eyes full of wonder and inquiry. I touched the

back of her hand to my cheek and closed my eyes, savoring the moment. She pulled

away and tried to grab my nose, but I stood up and pushed the pram slowly away

from this place of wonder.

The monorail passed overhead in an eerie silence, the magnetic inverters keeping

the carriages from touching anything as it slid by on a cushion of air. We

watched it till it was out of sight, like a ghost passing by. I wondered how soon

it would be before Jean spoke her first words. I smiled, thinking of her life

ahead. It was spread out before her, her own mystery journey into the future,

toward some unknown destination.

I pushed her along the quiet sidewalks towards my own destiny. We reached the

unimposing building. There were a few people beginning to move about, and some

cars floated by, their automated pilots keeping the traffic flowing freely. I

touched the glass pad at the foot of the stairs and a section of the steps sank

into the floor, making it easier for me to push the pram up into the building.

The steps pushed silently back up into place as we reached the top of the ramp.

The front doors revolved continuously in a slow pedestrian dance, never ending

nor beginning. I pushed the pram into the next opening and ambled around,

matching its stately gyration.

I looked at the display on the wall and put my hand on the angled panel at its

base. The screen flickered for a moment and then welcomed me, provideding a three

dimensional map of where I needed to go.

The elevator rose swiftly to the thirteenth floor, the sultry voice of the

controller announcing our arrival. I stepped out and pushed the pram along the

long corridor to the right. We eventually reached our destination. The door

opened automatically as I approached it.

It was a small theater with a glass booth at one end. A few women were already

seated in the front row. I didn't recognize them, the obligatory witnesses, I

guessed. A woman in a white coat came up to me with a pad in her hand. She held

it out and I put my palm to it. It beeped and verified my identification. She

looked down at my baby and frowned. I reached in and unclipped Sharon. She had

fallen asleep again and I hefted her easily to my shoulder.

The woman led me to the booth and pointed out the controls. I nodded in


"Would you hold her for me please?" I said. She looked up and grimaced slightly,

but relented and held out her arms. I kissed Sharon on her sleeping cheek and

whispered "Be a good girl for mommy," and handed her over.

I sat in the booth and the thick glass door slid into place behind me. I pressed

the button on the armrest of the chair. Two large banks of lenses folded out on

either side of the chamber. A soft voice told me that the random timer had

started to count down and the process would terminate within the next five


I looked at the people in the front row. They seemed bored and disinterested. I

looked across at the woman in the white coat holding my baby. Thankfully Sharon was

still asleep and resting her head peacefully on the woman's shoulder, her little

legs dangling out from under the woman's crooked arm.

Five minutes or less to go. I thought back to the magistrate. She had peered at

me over the top of her glasses. Too old-fashioned to have had her eyes corrected

surgically, I guessed.

"So, you admit you caused Mildred Bedlowe' death?" she asked. I nodded; there was no

other answer I could give. I'd only just returned to work full time, after having

Sharon, and I was still not fully back into the swing of working nine to five

again. My boss had been sympathetic and she'd let me go home early that day.

The bedroom door was slightly open and I could hear voices and moans coming from

within. I looked round the door in apprehension at what I might see. My partner,

Harriet, was sliding a large silver dildo into a woman I'd never seen before. I

later found out her name was Mildred. Harriet stopped her thrusting and turned to look

at me, putting her hand up to her mouth in surprise.

"Oooh don't stop baby, don't stop, I'm almost there," the other woman said,

breathlessly. When nothing happened, she opened her eyes and our gazes met. "Oh,"

she said.

"Oh," that was what she said. Funny the things you remember. I picked up the

small statue of the Venus de Milo that we kept on the dressing table to hang our

necklaces on, and threw it at the woman. It hit her on the side of the head. She

shrieked and collapsed. I stood stunned at what I'd done in a moment of anger.

She sat up rubbing her head, groaning.

"I think you'd better leave," Harriet said. We looked at each other, dreadfully

aware at what this would probably mean.

"What about the baby?" I said.

"Take her, she's yours. You were the one who wanted her anyway. The two of us

wasn't ever enough for you, was it?" I turned and fled, her accusing tone ringing

in my ears. I went straight to the nursery and collected Sharon, the one

cornerstone left in my collapsing world.

It was two days later that the court had summoned me to appear. It seemed Mildred

had died in her sleep that night. An unlucky break for both of us. The magistrate

had been considerate, but her hands were tied. There was nowhere to run, nowhere

to escape justice. I accepted the court's decision. I'd been given a month to get

my affairs in order before I had to report to have my sentence carried out.

I hoped the state orphanage would see Sharon right. The panels started to vibrate.

There was a blinding flash. Darkness was within.


I checked my appearance in the elevator mirror one last time. I tugged at my

short skirt, but the leather didn't really give any, my stocking-tops stayed

resolutely uncovered. I licked my lips and fluffed my hair, and gave myself a

quick squirt of breath freshener then dropped it back in my small, shiny black

purse. I got out on the fourth floor and wandered the corridor looking for the

right room.

I stood outside room 713, waiting... for what? I didn't really know. I was always

nervous at this point, no matter how often I did it. I knocked and waited. The

door opened a crack and half a face appeared around the edge.

"Hi," I said, putting on my best 'gosh it's good to see you' smile. The door

opened some more and the whole face came into view. Not too bad, so far.

"You my... date?"

"If you're looking for a good time, then yes, I guess I am." I took a step toward

the door and he opened it to let me in. It was a typical hotel room, not too

expensive, not too cheap.

"Wanna drink?" he said.

"Sure, a mineral water would be nice." He snorted, but made no further comment.

He poured himself a stiff whiskey and gulped it down in two big gulps. My heart

sank, the last thing I needed was for him to get drunk.

"How would you like it?" I asked. He looked me up and down, then motioned for me

to turn round. I put my purse down on the bed and did a slow spiral, holding my

hands out like a ballet dancer. As I turned to face him again he nodded, but

didn't say anything. I stood waiting for instructions, not quite sure what to do

next. We just stared at each other, for what seemed like a long time, but was

probably only a few moments.

"Here," he said, holding out a small bottle of Calistoga. I took it from him and

twisted off the cap. It tasted cool and refreshing as I tipped the bottle back.

"Stay like that, don't move," he said. I looked sideways at him mid- gulp and

pushed my tongue into the bottle to prevent any more from coming out. He picked

up an expensive-looking camera and held it up to his face. There was some rapid

firing and winding as he took several shots. He advanced and took some close-ups,

circling me as he snapped. I tried to follow him, but he brusquely told me not to

move. I lost him from my periphery as he went behind me.

"Now, don't you move a muscle, sweetie," he said. I felt his hands on the zipper

at the back of my skirt. He loosened it and tugged it down over my hips. It was a

very tight skirt and he only got it as far as my hips before he stopped pulling.

"Keep your legs parted enough to hold it up," he ordered. He took my free left

hand and directed it down to the front of my panties. I felt him pull the

waistband away from my belly and guide my hand down the front of them. He stood

back and considered my pose. Apparently liking what he saw, he picked up the

camera again and took some more pictures.

"I want you to let some water out of the bottle, but don't swallow" he said. I

pulled my tongue out of the bottleneck, and my mouth quickly filled and began to

overflow. The water felt cold as it splashed onto the thin material of my blouse.

He kept shooting.

Eventually the bottle was empty and my breasts were soaked. I could feel the

water all the way down to my feet. I didn't think the hotel was going to be too

pleased with a big wet patch in the middle of their room. But that wasn't my


I pulled the bottle away and took my hand out of my panties. Tilting my head back

for that long was getting painful.

"Can we do something else?" I asked, in what I hoped was my most seductive voice.

I'd had enough of his silly games and just wanted to get on with the main event.

He put down the camera and sat down in the armchair in the corner of the room. He

curled his index finger and motioned me to come closer. I moved away from the

damp patch and pushed my skirt to the floor and stepped out of it. I started to

put the bottle down, but he told me to keep hold of it. I wondered about that for

a moment, but hell, he was the one calling the shots. I stood in front of him,

thrusting my hips forward provocatively, my pussy now level with his face.

"Rub yourself with the bottle."

I hesitated, but then shrugged mentally and spread my legs enough to rub the

bottle across my crotch. My panties were already see-though from the water that

had run over them.

It did feel kinda nasty, standing there rubbing myself with the smooth bottle

though my wet panties. He just sat and watched. I closed my eyes and started to

groan and grind my hips in a steady rhythm.

"Forget the acting," he growled. I abruptly stopped the thrusting and opened my

eyes to look at him, slightly shocked. The bastard wasn't going to let me hide

behind a performance.

"Keep rubbing," he said. I started to rub again, but maintaining eye contact this

time. I could feel myself starting to blush, like a stupid teenager. He grinned

unpleasantly at my discomfort.

He reached up to me and grasped the edge of my panties. In one violent tug he

ripped them from my body, forcing me to stagger slightly. I stood there not sure

what to do. Did he want to rub myself with the bottle directly now, on my exposed


"Get on the bed, on your hands and knees," he ordered. I turned and climbed onto

the bed, wondering what he had in mind.

"I hope you're wet, honey, because we both know where that bottle's going." I

looked at the bottle in my hand with dismay. It didn't seem that big, but I was

apprehensive never the less.

"I... I don't think it'll fit," I said, blushing again.

"Oh, a big girl like you? I'm sure it will. Now are you gonna do it, or do you

want me to do it for you?"

"Wait... I brought something to help," I said. I grabbed my purse and pulled out

a tube of KY gel and squeezed a large blob into my hand. I smeared the entire

Calistoga bottle's sides and base with the gel, and then reached back between my

legs and slathered my lips. I wiped my hand on the bedsheet so that I could grip

the neck of the bottle. I closed my eyes and willed my pussy to relax as I slowly

began to push it between my legs.

I took a quick look over my shoulder to see him staring intently as I filled my

intimate place with the foreign object. I grunted and groaned, this time for

real, as I pushed it steadily into me. I wriggled my hips trying to get myself

more open to accept it. Just as I thought it would never go in, I felt something

slide deep inside me and the bottle suddenly pushed all the way home. I carefully

felt about my crotch. My lips had closed back around the neck, which now jutted

out proudly an inch or so.

I'd never felt so full. It was an odd feeling, not like a dick or a vibrator at


"Ok, now the real show can begin. Hand me that gel," he said. I handed the KY

back to him without looking around. I didn't feel like twisting about too much. I

just rested on my elbows and concentrated on keeping my back arched and my ass in

the air, trying desperately to relax the muscles I knew were going to be

stretched next.

The first touch of the cold gel on my anus made me clench my pelvic floor muscles

instinctively. I groaned out loud as I squeezed down involuntarily on the bottle.

I panted rapidly and willed my body to relax again.

He pushed a slippery finger into my ass and began to slide it in and out. I heard

him unzip and drop his pants. The next thing I felt was something much bigger

than his finger pushing at my asshole.

"Push back, honey. Push yourself onto me. I wanna feel that bottle rubbing on my

dick." I slowly did as he asked. The KY did its job and I felt his engorged dick

head enter my ass. The bottle began to feel even bigger as both my holes became

filled. I dropped my face to the bed and began to groan louder and louder as he

drove in all the way to the hilt.

"Ok, honey, now your job is to rub that clit of yours. I want to feel you tighten

around my dick as you come. When you've done that, I'll start to fuck you. Now

rub, honey, rub that clit!"

I gripped the bedclothes into a mound under my face and bit down on it. I pushed

my hand back between my legs and began to rub my clit. It felt so swollen and

sensitive I could barely touch it without bucking. I flicked it a few times and

grunted into my impromptu gag. It only took about a dozen quick rubs till the

first orgasm hit me like an armored truck. I shrieked and jumped in convulsions

of pleasure that felt like they'd been ripped from me.

I momentarily blanked and would have sagged to the bed had I not been still

impaled on him. I squeezed my eyes shut so tight that even the tears I felt

forming couldn't escape. I lay there panting and feeling light headed.

Then he started to thrust.

I felt the bottle again, and sensation began to flood back into me. I bit down on

the bedclothes again and just rode the storm. He fucked me a good ten minutes. By

the time he came in my ass I was past screaming, I could barely keep my eyes

open, they were flickering open and shut like demented butterflies. I lost count

of the number of orgasms I had.

He stopped thrusting and growled a deep rumbling groan as he emptied his seed

into my bowels. We collapsed to the bed, both stunned by the intensity of the

experience. We lay huddled together for ages, not speaking, just lost in our


"Fuck me, that was something else," he said, eventually.

"Not bad," I said, sleepily. We lay silently for another five minutes. At last

his prick slipped from my ass with a plop, and a small fart from me. We both


"So, sweet-thing, what the hell are we going to do for your birthday treat?"

"I'll think of something," I said. "Now, would you mind getting that damn bottle

out of me!"

The End


Copyright ?1998 by SIC

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