THE PRIZE by Sean O'Kane Read Free Book Online

Ayesha herself cried out in triumph as she peaked just as his ejaculate pumped into her.
    Almost at the same time as his final spurt erupted into her, he pushed her off him to sprawl on the floor while he zipped himself up. Suddenly Ayesha realised what a shameless display she had just made of herself and flushed angrily as she struggled up only to remember that her skirt and knickers had been ripped to shreds.
    "Don't worry, you won't need them where you're going," the Englishman said as he watched her try and hide herself with just the tail of her shirt. "Mohammed finish the job."
    Mohammed reached for her but Ayesha shrank back. "Okay, I'll do it myself," she muttered sullenly and under the watchful gazes of the three men she completed her strip. By the time she was naked and had had the humiliating experience of having to wipe between her legs with her shirt or risk oozing sperm on the expensive carpet, the car stopped. The Englishman jerked his thumb at the door and, clutching her ruined clothes to her chest as her sole protection Ayesha stepped out into the hot sun. Ahead of her was a wide flight of steps which led up to great double doors guarded by two men in traditional robes who nevertheless carried machine pistols. Squinting in the glare after the subdued light of the car, Ayesha could still make out that she was standing in a courtyard at the front entrance of the grandest palace she had ever seen. It seemed to stretch for miles to right and left and rose three graceful storeys above her. She jumped as the Englishman slapped her bare rump and then took her by the arm to lead her up the stairs.
    The guards at the doors showed no surprise at Ayesha's state and the Englishman led her into a huge, marble - floored hall, the Prince following close behind. From a door at the far end a figure emerged and approached the little group. As it advanced across the chequered expanse of the floor, Ayesha saw it was a tall black man dressed in the flowing robes she had seen on the guards.
    "Your Highness!" the man exclaimed, smiling broadly. "It is good to see you home again!"
    "Ah, Mahmut," the Prince replied. "Take this new acquisition down to the guards' mess and have them make her welcome. Then clean her up and bring her to the Music Room."
    Mahmut took her by the arm and marched her off, she craned her head round to plead but already the two men had turned away and were moving towards a flight of stairs. Mahmut walked swiftly and Ayesha had to trot to keep up, her heels tapping on the marble. She was led through the door Mahmut had emerged from and along the airy corridor behind it. On her left she could see a large sort of atrium with lawns and fountains, but for the moment she was destined for a door on the right. It opened into a room which had sofas ranged round its walls. A large television dominated one corner and there were a lot of men, dressed in robes as well, lounging, watching it. They were obviously of different racial origins and Mahmut used English to address them as he pushed her roughly into the middle of the floor and tore her clothes from her grasp. She tried to cover herself but he pulled her arms up above her head.
    "His Highness bids you welcome a newcomer among us!" he announced to cheers and whistles of approval.
    Ayesha was by then feeling the effects of the traumatic sequence of events and could only groan in despair. She knew well enough that she was in for a gang bang. Three had been the highest number of men she had ever taken in succession before but here there were more than she dared count and to make matters worse, after the two men on the plane and Mohammed in the car her vagina was stinging and burning already.
    But Mahmut slapped her rump smartly and simply left her, naked in the middle of the room. Instantly she was surrounded by men who jostled and crowded her, hands reached for her breasts and tried to force their way between her tightly clenched thighs. She gritted her teeth as the