Parisian Doll

One thing that Kendall never got used to was being chattel. She'd been traded from one man to another over the years. All of them Muslim, all who she referred to as Sheikh. She'd gone from the primary pleasure slave to more of a mentor to younger slaves.

"I have a new one for you to train up, my pet," her newest Sheikh, a younger man, told her. She beamed as he pet her blonde hair, smelling and looking just as he preferred.

"I will train her well, my Sheikh," Kendall purred.

"Meet Emily," the Sheikh said, smiling broadly. "She's a fellow American. I trust you will get on well."

Kendall hugged her tightly, almost like a mother's embrace, Emily thought dully.