The Houris Part II

[Kate]

There was much activity that day in the women’s quarters, but they still took time to notice the new addition. “Well, I wonder if Medea is going to be replaced after all,” said one, a cruel tone to her voice. “Hush,” said another with a soft melodious voice, “can’t you see she’s scared enough? Keep your mouth shut for a change Salome.”

Fahzi gazed in terror around her. “Well, little fool, do you speak?” the sharp-voiced girl asked, her words dripping with sarcasm, “or have they chosen a dumb one who won’t give any lip to the master?”

“Oh do be quiet, Salome,” said the quiet beauty again, “or I’ll beat you.” Her words seemed to have an effect, for Salome suddenly became quiet, her red lips pouting as she sat and sulked.

“What is your name, girl?” the woman asked.

“Fahzi”, she replied. The woman speaking to her was beautiful, dark brown wavy hair, her eyes circled with kohl. “Well Fahzi, you are now property of Prince Ahmad, brother of Sultan Suleiman.”

“Prince?” Fahzi whispered, and the red-lipped beauty laughed again.

“She didn’t even know! Tell the little fool, Valina, what it means to be in the seraglio of Ahmad. No, I will tell her instead. No, Valina,” she said as the older woman cast her glance, “you won’t be excepted from the spectacle we see today—even if you are the prince’s favorite. And will become wife number four if you manage—Allah only knows how because he takes great care to avoid our becoming pregnant—to bear him a son. No, she’ll find out what awaits her today.”

“Do you know what is happening today, little fool? You’ve come in time to witness the punishment of one of us who tried to defy our master. I don’t know if she’ll be sent to the sculleries after this, or will be given another chance since it is her first offense--one can never tell.”

“I can see I can’t stop you, Salome,” said Valina, “so go on, tell your tale. She is going to find out, but do not frighten her more than is necessary. But when we return I’ll tell her stories of my own—such as what happened to you not too long ago, and what will happen if you displease the master again. Not to mention what I’ll do to you afterwards.”

Salome threw back her head and laughed a harsh laugh. The other girls in the seraglio said nothing, but huddled together. They had heard it all before, but each time the horror was as fresh as the time before. Salome deferred to Valina—for Valina could obviously frighten her. But Salome was eager to continue, and Valina was letting her have her way.

“This is what happens when you displease the master, little fool.” It was obvious that Salome was enjoying relaying her tale to Fahzi. Her red lips curled with malice. “Our master has perfected a way of punishing us. It’s his special invention, you know, and he’s quite proud of it. Sometimes he uses one of us to demonstrate it to amuse his guests. Even “Miss High and Mighty” here,” she cast a look at Valina, “provided amusement for our master at banquets. And believe me, being in front of an audience is even more humiliation than the punishment.”

“They stretch you out on your stomach over a long bench with a chin rest so that you can’t lower you head—he wants your face up, you see. And it has an ivory phallus they impale you on...” Fahzi looked puzzled, and Salome snapped at her, “it goes in your cunt, you bumpkin. Anyway, they push you down on it, whether it hurts you or not. And if they’re really angry….”

But she was cut off by a scream and even Salome shuddered, along with the other girls. “They must have come to get her,” she said and went on. “Anyway, they strap you down on it; your hands and feet are fastened tightly to the base, and then comes the fun part.” Salome licked her red lips, relishing the horror on Fahzi’s face. “There’s a strap he likes to use, you know, though sometimes he’ll use a whip. He likes to whip us, you see, except for Miss High and Mighty—she doesn’t get whipped anymore.”

“I give him no excuse,” Valina said severely.

“Ah, but wait until I tell the little fool the rest of it. As I was saying, they strap you down, and leave you there for a moment—it increases the fear and the humiliation, you see. Then he has one of the eunuchs fetch a strap—it’s about three inches wide, and the surface of the leather is hard and shiny. Then he signals and has the eunuch start beating you. And you’ll be praying it stops long before it’s over.”

“They beat you all over—every place they can reach. Your back, your waist, your ass, your legs. And the more you beg them to stop, the longer they like to beat you. And the eunuchs like beating you almost as much as he likes watching them do it.

“And then there’s what happens to us. We’re stripped and shackled hand and foot with shackles of electrum. He likes to wrap us in golden chains. And they put collars around our necks and chain us to each other in a line, then lead us in and make us watch. And if he’s really angry we all have to take our turn. And it won’t be pleasant, believe me.”

“You have to keep your mouth shut as you watch: if you make any kind of noise or protest you’re next. You get the same punishment and you’ll wish you’d been smart enough to keep quiet. It hurts like hell, worse than you can ever imagine.”

“But the best part is what comes afterwards. He always likes to have one of us after it’s done, and you don’t want any part of him when he’s in that mood. He’ll indulge in all of his nasty little habits. He likes to fuck one of us after he watches a beating, you see. A beating for amusement, and then some abusement to follow. And he likes virgins for that the best, little fool and I’ll wager that he’ll want some of you to play with after he’s done. So, what do you think of that?’’

Fahzi blushed, remembering the intimate probing given to her by the eunuch before she went on the block. It had been embarrassing, and now her shame increased.

Suddenly they heard footsteps outside the door, and the sound of chains rattling, and they all became silent. “Shhh,” said one of the girls, “they’re coming.” And all of the girls, from the acerbic Salome to the serene Valina, shuddered.

[Kimmy]

Oh, this is not good...the poor girl is sure to cry out or something.

Nicely done. That Salome is certainly a nasty B...isn't she?

Kimmy