The first 21 years of Jennifer Ellis’s life seemed to have gone exactly to plan. Daughter of a rich industrialist she had attended a very exclusive school and gained a well respected education. Not that she was bothered, she had no desire to work a day in her life. To that end she managed to hook up with a rich Arab Sheik on one of her many foreign holidays and had found it easy to seduce him into making her his wife. A life of luxury awaited her and she headed home with him after a fantastically salubrious ceremony to set up as his wife. But when she got there she got her first surprise, he was not only fabulously wealthy but already had several wives and while Jennifer was obviously his favourite and treated magnificently well it still sat uneasily with her.
On the surface though, she thought she had little to worry about. She was 21, a statuesque 5’10”, with luxurious, long blonde hair, had big breasts, had the most beautiful clear complexion and a winning white smile that dazzled and a figure that few supermodels could match the curves of, while his selection of wives were dark, husky Arabian ladies, uniformly older and with long dark hair and seemingly unwilling to flaunt themselves at all. Which is certainly not something you could accuse Jennifer of. She was a little tease and played on it and her new husband seemed to relish her attentions, she was so caught up in her exciting new life that she barely registered the simmering hatred and resentment from the Sheik’s other wives.
That hatred was most evident in the woman who had been married to him longest, Farrah. At 40 years of age she was very nearly double the age of Jennifer and while Farrah had accepted all his other wives and grown even to like and respect them, as was the culture, she could find nothing about this newcomer that she wanted to anything to do with. It was not that Jennifer had gone out of her way to insult or snub Farrah and the others, she did not know the culture or customs of the state but nonetheless it was readily apparent that the young Englishwoman viewed herself as several steps above them and was not prepared to give them their rightful place in the Sheik’s domain. Sheik Akmal was aware of the simmering tensions but it amused him, he enjoyed developing the jealousies of these women and observing their waspish reactions to each other. He deliberately rubbed Farrah and the others nose in the situation by singling his new bride out for special treatment, taking her away on trips, having her by his side at state engagements and often making unfavourably comparisons to his earlier spouses in their presence. The blonde girl remained aloof and oblivious to the growing situation. Meanwhile the other wives begged and pleaded with Farrah to do something about the situation, aware that they were being denied their rightful privileges of their position. With their continual haranguing and Jennifer’s obliviousness to her Farrah finally had enough and confronted the Sheik about the whole situation.
With Jennifer out for the afternoon at a local market she laid forth her complaints to an indifferent Sheik. His indolence raised her ire further and when he asked her in a bored voice what she would have him do about it she was stumped of an answer.
“You see my dear first wife, you are jealous of Jennifer’s beauty and youth. Why should I care? Yes you have served me well for the years we have been together but how much do you care, if you really cared you might be willing to go further to demonstrate the lengths to which you are willing to fight for my affections.”
He was being Machiavellian, he had long held a fantasy of having women fight over him. While he had not engineered this situation deliberately, once he had become aware of it he had fostered it and now he saw with glee, the possibility to make it come true.
Farrah stamped her foot in rage and balled her hands into fists and positively spat back at the Sheik that “Yes!” she would fight for him to see off this newcomer, wherever and whenever he wanted. He smiled at her and told her to leave and to leave the matter with him to see if his new wife was agreeable to the proposal.
But Jennifer was initially not at all impressed with the thought of fighting this old, jealous bitch. She knew it would be beneath her (whilst also being a hundred percent certain she would emerge victorious, after all she had been into sports at school, was extremely fit and had a sizeable weight and height advantage over the petit Arab woman). Still it was all a bit distasteful and she was hardly subtle in showing her new husband what she thought of the proposal. Outwardly he agreed with Jennifer and told her it was not a problem but inwardly he fumed. This spoilt little bimbo obviously had ideas above her station and did not recognise his status as her husband and master.
Over the next fortnight a definite deterioration of the atmosphere in the Sheik’s palace took place. He was studiously absent and in his absence the other wives attitude toward Jennifer began to become more than apparent. She was snubbed, ignored, glared at and was certain that they were all talking about her behind her back. Farrah especially seemed to be stirring the others into action against her. Worse, when the Sheik did return he seemed to now have tired somewhat of his new bride and turned some of his attention back to his earlier versions. It was readily apparent what he was doing, punishing her for turning down his suggestion. Well watching him laugh and share a joke with Farrah was too much for her and she stormed up to face the pair of them and announce that if the challenge was still on then she was up for it!
At this and as the two women stared daggers at each other the Sheik gave way to a massive grin, this was all his fantasies come true at once.
But having finally got both parties to agree to his proposal he was faced with the fact that he had a three week visit to a series foreign dignitaries coming up and he left both women with the thought that when he returned they could settle their issue before him.
Those three weeks were literally torturous for Jennifer. With the event settled on, any pretence by the other wives of being at least civil to her went straight out the window. She was made to feel an outsider, the insults were now pretty much outright and nor bothered to be hidden. She hated it and wanted so much to be rid of all these harridans, she resolved that she would beat Farrah completely, totally, make her recognise that she was yesterdays news, an obsolete model and nothing to her.
Watching the old bitch around the palace Jennifer observed that these other wives had hand maidens/servants who followed the wives everywhere and did everything and anything for the wives. They were pretty much treated like garbage, told what to do, when to do it, how to do it, how to dress. Really they were treated terribly, like sub-humanly. The young blonde had been waiting for her hand maiden to be settled upon and seeing Farrah be so aloof to hers gave her a great idea.
It was hard actually getting Farrah alone to propose the challenge but just a couple of days before the Sheik was due to return Jennifer managed to corner the smaller Arab and make it.
“I can’t wait until MY husband gets back and I can show him and you and all your other pathetic gang just who is the dominant female in this place.”
“Huh, we’ll see English cow. Maybe you are too confident. I may be smaller than you but I have no doubt I shall defeat you easily!”
“Is that so? Well I’ve got a proposal for you. I see you treating those hand servants like scum all the time, well if you are so sure you can beat me I have a challenge for you. If I can make you submit in the fight you will have to agree to become my hand servant from that point on. You will no longer be regarded as one of the Sheik’s wives. It’ll teach you a valuable lesson on how to treat people.”
Jennifer had thought that Farrah would be horrified at the suggestion, that it may even be enough to force the woman to try and humiliatingly have to back down. But rather than that a sly smile came across her face and she readily agreed.
“That sounds like a fair stipulation, you have obviously thought hard about it and are confident of winning. Of course, that being so you will not be adverse to the same being true should I defeat you, will you?”
Jennifer had never once contemplated defeat but in the pit of her stomach she felt a small shiver of doubt arise, could she agree to do that if she lost? But then with the older woman standing before her now looking positively mocking and smug there really was no way to back down, so she hardened her features and agreed that, of course, the opposite would be true if she lost.
“It is settled then English girl, when MY husband returns we shall tell him of the stipulations so that there can be no confusion or disagreement after the fact.”
The time seemed to fly in and in what felt like nothing at all Sheik Akmal returned to the palace and almost his first course of business was to call his first and last wives to his private chambers. They told him of their addition to the challenge and he nodded his approval.
“Good, I agree. But let me be clear that as I have agreed to this there will be no clemency or change of mind from me for the loser. You have agreed to this and you will have to live with the consequences. Very well tomorrow afternoon you shall both come to my grand dining hall, I will clear it of all furnishings and you can do battle there and when one of you submits to the other then that loser shall be honour bound to become the slave of the other from that moment onwards and shall have to obey her new Mistress’s every command.”
He dismissed them both with am order that both were to dress as sexily and provocatively as they could for the battle.
That night Jennifer failed to get much sleep at all, she was a bundle of nervous energy and tossed and turned all night and when she did finally drift off it was into a fitful sleep that saw her tormented by all the Sheik’s other wives as she struggled to get to her feet but kept failing. It was a worrying image.
Despite that she rose fresh and determined the next morning. She was also determined not only to beat the old crone in their fight but to show her up royally in the clothing stakes. Sexy and provocative the Sheik wanted well that was exactly what she was going to give him. She had exactly the number. She took an hour getting ready, literally applying the war paint. Her outfit was minimalist to say the least, a bejewelled pink bra top that was surrounded by a wispy, thin scarf and similarly coloured bottoms that were also wispy and flowing. With her long blonde hair pulled back in a tight ponytail and her flat, toned stomach prominently displayed she was sure that she would embarrass and show up her rival.
When she pushed open the big double doors into her husbands chosen arena though she quickly discovered that she was the one being shown up, as there, standing before their husband stood Farrah and compared to her Jennifer was positively overdressed! Farrah’s long, dark hair was neatly pleated and piled on top of her head and her eyes too were heavily made up for effect. But who was looking at her face, the older Arab woman had nothing on at all it appeared at first glance but closer inspection showed she actually had a couple of tassels over her nipples and they helped show off her pert brown breasts to perfection. Her legs were equally bare except for a tiny, black leather strip of material that disappeared between her legs. She stood with hands on hips staring directly at her younger rival and almost daring her to enter. The Sheik sat comfortably in the large throne-like chair he had set up on the far wall with his fingers entwined and smiled like a cat about to get his cream.
He had them both stand, facing each other in front of him, both women appraising the other with ill disguised hatred, their lips pulled back as they snarled at each other. Jennifer had a clear weight and height and size and age advantage; there was no way she would lose she thought.
“My dear wives, you know what you have agreed to, you know the stakes involved, you will now do battle until one of you submits to the other, be assured that the moment that either of you submits I will no longer think of you as my wife, you will no longer have any of the privileges that you currently enjoy, you will be nothing more than the slave of the other and you must then serve them in whatever way they wish until they see fit to stop it. You both understand?”
They both gave curt nods and kept their eyes focused on each other.
“Good. I will play no part in this drama other than to take the hand of the winner as she leaves the room, I will not intercede nor interfere until one of you submits. I expect both of you to fight to the end and make me proud. Now fight!”
Jennifer flexed her arm muscles in a last attempt to intimidate her smaller opponent and determined to start on the front foot she pulled back her stronger right arm to unleash a huge haymaker. Farrah read the younger woman’s intentions immediately and moved her dark head with cat like reflexes to easily avoid the blow while simultaneously getting in closer and firing a sharp uppercut punch right onto the point of Jennifer’s chin. It connected perfectly but for a moment it appeared to have had no effect, Jennifer stood there and continued her missed punch’s follow through but when she straightened up her eyes widened, her legs buckled and though she retained her senses she could do nothing but collapse backwards onto her backside, stunned.
Farrah was no novice in a vicious catfight and was on her downed enemy in a flash. She was a flurry of activity her fingers extended like talons (indeed she had sharpened them with a file the night before) and immediately raking four ugly, raw furrows down both of Jennifer’s cheeks before sinking them into Jennifer’s blonde hair, holding her head in place for a violent knee right into the younger woman’s unprotected face.
Jennifer reeled onto her back again, only vaguely aware that her nose was busted and a trickle of blood was already coming from her left nostril. Her eyes were blurred, she could feel tears and pity overflowing her and the harsh realisation as her mind somewhat cleared that she was in extreme danger of losing this high stakes war almost before it had even started. Desperately she planted her palms on the hard floor and tried to force her body up. Farrah had stood back to take stock and as her younger rival stirred she stormed forward to deliver a bare foot kick into her ribs then to tear off the scarf’s around the blondes bra and then easily tighten them before wrapping one around Jennifer’s unsuspecting throat from behind. That was a false advantage though as the material was so flimsy that the pressure told on it rather than Jennifer’s throat and it ripped apart in Farrah’s hands. Jen tried to roll clear in the moments pause and Farrah swiped with her nails again, half catching the English girls back. Well she caught more than that as when Jennifer rolled over and pushed herself to her knees her bra strap fell down and revealed her left tit. The blonde was still groggy and when the Arab stormed in again she did little more than attempt to cover up with her arms over her damaged face. Farrah realised this quickly and instead grasped the loose strap and ripped the bra free from Jennifer’s chest and exposing her perfect, large breasts. Farrah was like a vulture when the creamy, white breast flesh was exposed and extended her sharpened nails again and snarled as she plunged all ten into those soft tits.
When the nails entered the breasts Farrah squeezed her fingers trying make a fist in the skin and Jennifer screamed like an animal snared in a trap. Oh Farrah had waited for this moment for so long now, to torture this ignorant young pretender had consumed her dreams and fantasies for weeks and she was almost in a sexual ecstasy as she twisted and turned her nails of pain to a chorus of pained screams from her rival. The Sheik watched on fascinated and wrapt in the action, he had known Farrah would prove to be a wild animal in the fight and was eager to see if his newest bride had the spirit to fight back. Right now it didn’t appear that she did.
It was already crossing Jennifer’s mind to scream her pathetic submission. The pain in her chest was the most intense thing she had ever suffered in her short, pampered life so far. Tears were flowing freely now and as she blinked through them and saw the insane look on her attackers face she realised that her submission would probably not even register with the wildcat! But as she lay there and her adrenaline started to kick in and flood to her boobs and her head cleared from the earlier blows she tried to remind herself of her clear size advantage. When she had enough about herself to try and get up, despite the wild Arab assaulting her she was able to pretty easily get to her feet and push her attacker off. It came with some extra pain though as the bitch made sure to scrape her claws across Jennifer’s boobs as she was pushed off her.
Farrah was back up to her haunches pretty much immediately. Her insane grin mocking her young opponent more than any words could ever do. And she had every right to be cocky. She had battered and bloodied her foe at will so far and the scars of the battle were easily visible on the blondes usually impeccable body. Jennifer allowed herself to feel tentatively at her damaged boobs as Farrah circled her, waiting the Arabs next move.
But a move never came, as it seemed she was keen to rely on counterattacking whatever the English girl attacked with. Jennifer was realising that and kept her distance, allowing her head to clear up some more and try to think of her next move. It was Jen that broke first, her attack seeming almost a carbon copy of her ill-fated first assault. Her fist pulled back and seemed ready to power forward but this time as Farrah prepared to duck away it was Jennifer’s foot that flew up and buried itself between Farrah’s unready legs. It was a great strike, connecting solidly with the Arab’s cunt and making her mouth make a ‘O’ shape in shock and pain and sinking to her knees, winded.
Now it was Jennifer’s time to attack and she wasted no time marching up to her kneeling foe and unleashing a hard slap to Farrah’s cheek. The noise of palm to cheek echoed around the empty room and was replicated as Jen unloaded a flurry of slaps, each less powerful than the last but in all she must have been hit twenty unanswered times. Farrah was stunned and finally Jennifer was easily able to push her foe over onto her back. As the Arab laid spread eagled Jennifer towered over her and viciously stamped down on her cunt again.
Finally, Jennifer was able to see pain etched across her opponents face and it spurred her on, holding the Arab woman’s legs wide apart she waited until Farrah made eye contact with her before ramming her knee down into her pussy and holding it there and grinding it in remorselessly. She held that position for a few seconds relishing her foes noises of agony before rolling around and hooking her long, muscular legs tightly around Farrah’s waist and sinking in a vice-like leg scissor manoeuvre. The pain in her groin was soon dismissed as Farrah felt those powerful, younger legs squeeze her stomach and lower ribcage with eagerness.
Jen also took the chance to rip off those fucking stupid tassels the old cow had stuck on her boobs for the fight, enjoying her shocked look as the suction to the tits stretched them cruelly before letting go. She also reached her hand out to grab the tiny thong Farrah was wearing and tugging sharply on it to provide a ‘wedgie’ style move. That didn’t last long though as bending forward like that took her near enough to Farrah for her to sink her nails back into Jen’s tits to ill-effect before she jerked back out of range. So she leaned back and concentrated on crushing and constricting her opponents chest
Farrah was panicking and frantic and slapped her hands ineffectively against those powerful thighs that held her so tightly and was gasping and sobbing tears of frustration and pain before she realised what she had to do to escape. Trying not to let on what her plan was she twisted and rolled in the leg scissors, not really trying to escape but get just enough space to slip her hand down her front and just between her body and that of Jennifer’s. The young blonde never realised and by the time she felt Farrah’s long, sharp finger nails dip under her panties and onto on her clit hood it was too late as a second later the nails moved like pincers onto Jennifer’s young womanhood.
Oh that got a reaction all right! The blonde screaming at the top of her voice and her vice like leg scissors instantly abandoned in her attempt to flee the visceral pain in her most private areas. But though she desperately unhooked her legs Farrah’s claw hold held firm and nipped viciously in on her clit. Indeed as Jennifer’s legs opened in an attempt to free herself Farrah was able to tighten her grip and twist it viciously like a radio knob to a pained howl from the younger woman. Jennifer was frantic in her attempts to escape, she knew she could not endure this pain for long. She frantically kicked her legs and swung her arms hoping that some of the blows would be enough to dislodge her assailant. But Farrah was intent on her action and blocked out all that her opponent threw at her. Until, that is, a stray, desperate swipe by Jennifer’s hand connected with the Arab’s face and her finger jabbed into Farrah’s eye and gave her the break from the claw she needed.
As she felt the fingers looe their pincer grip on her womanhood Jennifer instinctively scooted away from Farrah, reversing with her palms on the floor until she was at least five yards away and she reached to her injured cunt and cupped her hands there and cried. Farrah, meantime, was trying to ignore the pain in her eye, she closed it and advanced towards her enemy, determined to press home her advantage. She dropped onto Jennifer and begun flinging punches at her downed foe, but with her vision badly impaired they were nowhere near as deadly as her strikes of earlier in the fight. Jennifer got her arms up to cover her face and managed to use her heavier body to shove off Farrah and limp to her feet to face up to her across the room.
Both were injured now and both knew it. They wanted this over with, victory achieved with minimum added pain to themselves and maximum to their opponent. Where before they had stalled and delayed and sized each other up when they had been separated this time they sprang at each other. And this time when Jennifer swung a wild haymaker from her powerful right hand Farrah’s inability to see from her left eye let her down and the right hook smashed into the smaller woman’s jaw like a slow motion punch in a dramatic boxing movie. Sweat and saliva flew off as Farrah’s head rocked violently to the side from the impact, a tooth flying incongruously as the went down in a heap, a tiny trickle of blood emerging from her lips even as she fell. Jennifer shook her fist, sore from the bare knuckle impact and advanced, certain victory was now hers.
Farrah was not knocked unconscious but was seeing stars and try as she did could not shake them. Next thing she knew her legs were being pulled apart and although she dully knew what must come next there was still no preparing for the agony as Jennifer drove her knee once more into her pussy and held it there and screamed at her to give up. Tearful and defiant Farrah spat at Jennifer and screamed in the negative.
The English girl held her knee there, grinding her knee in deeper and urging Farrah to submit but in a cruel twist of fate as she readjusted her position to prepared her next attack she placed her hand down too hard, her arm too straight and by a sheer fluke Farrah’s legs lashed out and connected with it perfectly just below the left elbow joint. The distinct crack was obvious and echoed ominously throughout the room. It was apparent to all three of the room’s inhabitants what had occurred, the young blondes arm had been broken, and as Jennifer squealed and pulled away Farrah pushed herself up and despite her pains she smiled, knowing that she had her young rival now.
Jennifer knelt there a sitting duck her good arm cradling her broken one and it was child’s play for Farrah, once upright, to lash out a hard kick with her foot to the undefended face of the blonde and send her reeling to the ground. It was easy too to get all her body weight on top of Jennifer’s one good arm, leaving the broken one open and undefended. The Arab looked down into Jennifer’s now terrified face and taunted her.
“Are you ready bitch? Ready to become my servant, my slave! When you submit to me I will make your life a living hell, I will make you my willing slave, you will serve me as your Mistress and discover what it is like to be the lowest of the low, all when you submit.”
It was unnecessary, both knew the fight was effectively over but Jennifer could not bring herself to submit yet. But when the Arab woman picked up her broken arm and pulled at it to reveal the new bend in her arm she had no choice but to scream her submission out.
The Sheik saw to it that his blonde wife was taken to his own private doctor and had her arm properly set but when Jennifer returned the next day, her arm in a stiff plaster she was immediately passed over into Farrah’s control. The Arab woman had little or no sympathy with her rival and immediately set about putting her in what she saw was her rightful place. There was an immediate change in Jennifer’s attitude, the Sheik had made it clear to her while she had her arm repaired that he expected her to keep her side of the bargain and that he would ensure that there was no opportunity for her to communicate her situation to her family back home. She was hardly close to them anyhow.
The other wives crowed and praised Farrah and told her they always knew she would beat the young upstart but Farrah knew that, given half a chance they would be more than happy to stab her in the back. Still, better the devil you know, they thought and at the first sighting of a battered and beaten Jennifer in the court there was much amusement. Where before she had been aloof, had acted above them all and better than them now she was timid, scared and cowering. The English blonde had been beaten both physically and mentally!
And if Jennifer was concerned as to what being Farrah’s hand maiden and slave would entail she was absolutely correct. The older woman had been totally vicious and determined to win and now she was in a position to dish out humiliation she was in her element. First off she called the whole household to the Sheikh’s court that evening, and despite her obvious bruises, she was proud as punch. With the Sheikh overseeing the ceremony she made a great production of ordering Jennifer to walk to her and drop, submissively, to her knees before her. A broken girl, the blonde did so obediently, favouring her injured arm. Farrah had a grin like a Cheshire cat and mockingly ruffled the long, silky blonde hair that Jennifer was so obviously proud of.
“Show your Mistress you’re willing to serve her! Kiss my feet! Now!”
There was a pause for a few seconds, where everybody in the crowded room held their breath and Jennifer obviously digested what she was being told to do, before slowly dipping her head down and puckered her lips to submissively kiss Farrah’s sandal-clad feet. Her cheeks blushed with embarrassment at doing this in front of everybody, especially given that until yesterdays fateful encounter she had regarded herself as better than everybody in the room (even the Sheikh). The fight had knocked the stuffing out of her though. Unbeknownst to her as she was busy grovelling Farrah had plunged her hand deep into her own voluminous outfit and produced a wicked pair of long, silver scissors. As the younger woman knelt, demonstrating her subservience, Farrah reached down, took a big clump of her hair, held it out and in one fell swipe cut it off before Jennifer even knew what was going on.
The look on the blondes face when she realised what had been done was priceless and it took an awful lot of composure for the other wives to stifle their giggle of amusement. For a brief moment Jennifer’s eyes flared up and held anger and defiance against this but as Farrah’s looks hardened and her hold on the grip of the scissors tightened, the blonde could no longer meet her challenging gaze and instead dropped her head in acquiescence. Farrah smiled and proceeded to do the same on the other three sides of her once beautifully coiffured haircut. As she went she tossed the long strands into the air to float mockingly past Jennifer’s eyes as they headed to the ground. By the time Farrah had finished Jen’s hair was an uneven, short mess, a far cry from her look up to then.
“Get used to it bitch, because I will never again allow you to grow it or style it in any way, shape or form. Everyday when I wake I will cut it to amuse myself and maybe if I cannot be bothered I will allow the Sheikh’s other wives to cut it for their amusement. Now Ladies, what do you think of my new slaves clothing? Is it not far too grand for someone of her station?”
A murmur of assent went up and Farrah was really enjoying holding court now as she ordered her young rival to disrobe. Jennifer stood up unsteadily and did as she was bid, appealing with wide eyes to the Sheikh to interject himself into proceedings. She was met with a look of indifference. He was enjoying this but already becoming bored. With no help coming from that quarter Jennifer gave up and pulled off her dress and underwear to stand before them all stark naked. The others cooed and murmured at the sight of all the scratches, bruises and marks from the fight, eyes turned to Farrah as well an new found respect and fear in the other women’s eyes.
Humbled and embarrassed Jennifer wanted the ground to swallow her up as her nubile body was so exposed and barely realised that Farrah was clicking her fingers impatiently at one of the other wives. The cowled woman brought forward a silver pair of pants that Farrah demanded Jennifer put on, it was up and on before Jennifer realised that it was a chastity belt and Farrah was busy locking it and pocketing the key. As she squirmed Farrah slapped her face and spoke to her.
“That will stay on until you leave this place, which will be a long time before I tire of tormenting you. You will not even be able to go to the toilet without begging me to open it. Now go to my room and await me, yes on your hands and knees! Crawl like the dog you are! You are less than a pet around this court now!”