The King's Tempory Slave

Chapter 3. My first day in the harem

Sleep was a long time coming although I lay as quiet as I could so as not to disturb Ettie snuggling beside me. My mind went over and over all the events of the day and I wondered how I would survive two months of this. Certainly I castigated myself severely for agreeing to the assignment but ultimately knew that now I'd made the decision, I would have to go with it and try and save my hide as much as possible.

Just as it seemed I finally closed my eyes, Ettie woke me. "Time to get up," she said quietly. I could see others climbing off their mattresses and heading for the toilet area. I gave a cry as my swollen buttock muscles were forced to move. "Sorry," Ettie went on, "You are not going to like the next half hour. Gym or P.E. as you probably called it at school. We have about ten minutes to use the loo and then get to the gym. Having had a thrashing is not considered an excuse for missing it." I hobbled painfully to the typical hole in the marble floor type toilet. An underground stream flushed system ensuring there was no smell even though the holes were quite close together and the girls had to squat almost shoulder to shoulder. I squatted with difficulty. "They don't supply paper," Ettie told me, "We have to use the bidets and the air dryers." That at least seemed more hygienic than the paper method and having warm air blowing through my sparse pubic hair was a very pleasant experience.

Sapphire came and asked how I was and confirmed that I would have at least to be seen to put some effort into the exercises or I would be chastised again. Coach isn't really hard hearted although it may seem like it, but you must attempt what he asks. You'll probably be put on the computerised machines after the warm-up movements. Do remember that all the girls have been thrashed at least as badly as you, so they won't consider your plight anything special. They'll give you what support they can but don't expect a lot of sympathy."

Most of the harem slaves must have been in the gym. There were more girls than in the bedroom last night and there were ten males. All of us were completely naked except two girls wore brief knickers which I found out was due to their period. Only Coach, a small very fit oriental guy, wore loose clothes. My eyes quickly went to the long whip he carried but he didn't seem to use it all that often. Any slave that didn't appear to be working hard enough felt the sting of its tip but it only caused a yelp from the recipient and left a light red mark. He knew how to control it because it could have been a lethal weapon.

I soon found out how unfit I was even allowing for my painful movements. He seemed to delight in making me use all the muscles in my body and especially those in my arse. "They hurt when you use them now, yes?" I nodded, "They not hurt so much later. Promise." I didn't really believe him. By now the sweat was running in rivulets down my body and I was panting worse than my old Labrador after lying out in the sun. "You take two mouthfuls of water," he told me, "And steady walk twice round room. Come back to me and we test you." He ordered. I tried to walk as slowly as I dared and yet seem to be actually walking. Walking did seem a little easier than it did when I first entered the gym. Coach wired me up to a treadmill and started it going through cycles of various speeds that had me puffing and gasping for breath. On the faster speeds my breasts, unused to being free during any exercise, seemed to fly in all directions and I wished for a more petite pair. I vaguely recalled an article in HiYa saying the abandoning your bra helps to tone their supporting muscles and make them firmer. I wondered if it would do the same for me. In the end I just couldn't keep up and fell. The machine stopped automatically.

Coach picked me up and disconnected the wires. "Sapphire, please to take Carol to showers. Bring back when dressed. I discuss work-out schedule when I see print-out."

"I thought I was going to die." I said to Sapphire as she helped me from the gym.

"By the time you leave, that will seem like a leisurely afternoon stroll," she laughed, "He tested you to your limit for now. Perhaps it was a good thing to have a sore arse. Your limit will be lower than normal so when you're tested next there should be an improvement which will please him."

We showered each other and Sapphire found me one of the revealing blue lacy wrap-around dresses I'd already seen. Mine though had a plain belt of the same colour as the dress with a plastic buckle. "The belt and buckle signifies you are the lowest grade of harem slave. After lunch I will give you a sash to wear over your shoulder to indicate you are a free woman for that time you can then wander around or talk or start typing your article or make some sort of diary you can sort out later. If I can get away I'll give you a tour of the palace or at least those parts you are allowed in. There are restrictions as to where even a free woman may go, much like in an apartment block you're not expected to impinge on the privacy of others and of course you are not allowed outside the palace walls."

Each bed mattress had a little cubby-hole alongside with three shelves. "Arrange your personal items on the shelves and leave your case on the bed. It will be stored with your clothing. Your laptop can go on the lower shelf. Keep the shelves neat and tidy at all times in case we have a snap inspection. You can leave anything there without fear of it being stolen or interfered with. No one, slaves or staff will even think of moving anyone's personal shelf items. This is a code you must follow too." Looking more closely at the other beds, all had an assortment of little things, ornaments or photos that were very personal to the owners.

"I must leave you now Carol," Sapphire told me, "Some of us have to work!" She laughed. Shortly afterwards the girls came flooding in laughing after having finished gym and showered. We all went for breakfast, a light meal of croissants and fruit. All the slaves, male and female ate together in their own dining room. Like the others I had to sit crossed legged on a shallow leather cushion with my food on a table no more than a foot high. Sitting made my bottom sore again but everyone chatted in a friendly way that took my mind off it to some extent.

I found out there are two classes of slaves; harem slaves who main purpose is sexual pleasure and work slaves who do all the cooking and cleaning. The latter wore a standard type Arab dress in pale blue and white stripes often with a protective apron.

Afterwards Coach talked to me for half an hour about my fitness and then Ettie took me to the make-up area where my pubic hair was chemically removed. I had to lie on a surgical table in front of all the others with my legs spread while the beautician applied the chemical. She wore latex gloves and I found out why. The chemical stung terribly but I was assured I would never need to be treated again. After about fifteen minutes it was scrubbed off and all the hair came out too. Afterwards I had my head hair brushed and my nails manicured nicely and I was shown how to bring out my features using the minimum of make-up. I began to feel a little better.

Sex education was nothing like this at my school. There were six of us in the class with four of the male slaves and the instruction was definitely a practical hands-on (or in my case a mouth-on), experience. The tutor was a silver belt slave named Maria and she'd obviously been informed of my poor showing when I sucked the king. For almost the whole hour I sucked and sucked two of the male slaves until my jaws ached and my throat was sore. One of the male slaves, Jim an Englishman, had an unusually large prick which by the end of the hour I almost was able to take into my throat. He told Maria that I did passably well for my first lesson. I quite liked him, as he seemed to try and help me and had a ready smile. At the end of the lesson, Maria handed me some lozenges to ease the fire in my throat. I still had nothing to ease the ache in my arse.

I was about to go to the pool area to relax a little after lunch when Willy came in and walked straight to me. Involuntarily I began to shake thinking I had unwittingly committed another faux pas or that the king had ordered a repeat of my thrashing but he only handed me a slip of paper with "Carol to Mrs. Marenka room W43". I looked uncomprehendingly at it. "It's my first assignment as a sex slave," I guessed but I had no idea where room W43 was. "Please," I asked wondering how he would answer, "Where do I go?" Willy started waving his arms trying to signal the direction when one of the girls I'd only seen in the gym came and looked at the paper and offered to take me.

"Thank him," she reminded me and after I'd done the head to floor and foot kissing ritual she led me away. "It's a confusing place at first. I'm Marisa. The W stands for West so were going to the West wing. That's where many of the government people live. Us slaves are in the East Wing." Her dark skin and features indicated she was Arab possibly local. I made a mental note to ask her later but I was more concerned as to what Mrs. Marenka would demand of me so I asked Marisa while we walked. "I've not been summoned to her but I know she likes white girls and I guess she'll want to have sex with you. We're here. 43 will be on the right. Good luck." With that she promptly disappeared back the way we'd come.

Immediately the door opened I recognised the woman from the plane and the embassy. Juliet, the woman who'd remarked on how the colour of my arse would have changed after the thrashing. The name Mrs. Marenka hadn't registered. "Do come in," she invited, "I'm so glad you were free. I'm dying to see your bottom and to have a play with you. I presume you did get it warmed last night?"

"Yes, ma'am." I replied trying to be subservient but then added, "More than warm ma'am."

"Oh goody. I do so like a nice tender arse to play with. Charles often hears when a slave is warmed and I ask for their services as soon as I know. Strip off Carol and get on the bed." She seemed so pleased I'd been thrashed that I took an instant dislike to her but I remembered Ettie's words from last night and knew I had to acquiesce otherwise I would be punished yet again.

With one movement, which I thought was quite graceful I removed my dress and then knelt on to the western style bed. Immediately she started kneading my tender buttocks, making me cry out. "Oh don't be such a baby," she chided, "Your arse is no where near as bad as some and I can always ask for it to receive a further dose." I gritted my teeth but the pain turned to pleasure as she changed tactics and tongued my slit and clitoris. "Are you into girl-girl sex?" she asked.

"Not really ma'am. I've only done it a few times," I replied.

"Well you will just have to learn quickly," Mrs. Marenka told me curtly. "Undress me." As soon as she was naked, she threw her arms around my back and hugged me so that our tits were tightly mashed together. Her lips met mine and we kissed hard and fiercely. It was erotic and I felt myself becoming wet but her kisses lacked the gentleness that Ettie's showed last night. I responded as best I could until ordered to lie, tits up, on the bed with my legs over the side. She pulled me until my arse was just overhanging and with my feet on the floor my thighs were more or less horizontal. Straddling my left thigh, she rubbed her warm cunt on it and, at the same time, she pressed her left thigh against my sex. Moving gently at first and then with increasing speed and pressure she masturbated herself and me at the same time. I climaxed well before she did, probably because of the earlier tonguing.

We changed places and I was ordered to clean up her juices. "Get used to it," I told myself, "You'll have to do it frequently in the next few weeks. I licked and sucked her opening and then when ordered, her bottom hole. Fortunately she couldn't see the repugnant expression on my face. Her bottom hole seemed more open than the few I'd seen previously but I didn't take much notice at that time. It was clean so I had no problem in doing what she asked. This lasted a short while before another change of position.

"Lie face up on the bed Carol dear," she instructed, "Hands behind your head." She straddled me and sat on my lower abdomen, her weight forcing my tender arse hard against the mattress. I winced but she ignored it. My tits were to be her play toys this time. "I do like girls with big floppy tits," she grinned as she rolled them around and squeezed them hard. "Most of the slave girls have firm ones which stand out, only the milkers are soft and big but they are not generally available to us." I wondered what she meant by 'milkers' but guessed correctly they were girls that were kept lactating. Her lips suckled my nipples, "Uuumm! Pity you won't be here long enough or they might consider taking you off contraception and breeding you. I do hope the king orders a tit whipping though. I'd love to play with these after they are criss-crossed with marks from the lash, Unfortunately he is the only one allowed to order that particular punishment."

The door opened and in walked her husband. "You've met my husband Ezra although you've not been introduced face to face. He's the one who buggered your arse on the plane. I expect he's come for a second session. You don't mind, do you?" As if I had any choice! Probably she was hoping for a refusal and then she could send me for punishment.

"No ma'am," I answered knowing his penetration would be even more painful this time.

"Undress him then girl and get him hard." His robe, like the king's; one fastening and all the layers came off together. Much easier than our multi-piece western apparel. Before he would allow me to suck him to full hardness he wanted to maul and suckle my breasts and then I had to kneel with my arse high so he could examine the bruises and prod my hole with his finger.

"Still nice and tight," Ezra remarked, "I'm going to enjoy this. Suck me a little and coat my prick with spit. No gel this time, I want to feel the tightness." His prick was more like those of Arab stories. Long and quite slim. Perhaps it wouldn't be too bad. Perhaps it wouldn't have been had not his wife done all she could to make the experience painful. With both hands she took hold of my bum cheeks and brutally forced them apart to give her husband a clear sight of his target and when he just made an entry, she encouraged him to ram it in as hard and as far as possible. It was a very painful experience for me but they seemed to enjoy it. Fortunately it didn't last long and it was also time for them to go to lunch.

While Juliet repaired her face make-up I was allowed to dress and return to my quarters. Before leaving they reminded me I had to thank them in the traditional way. Having made my obeisance, I departed having no idea of the lunch arrangements for slaves. However, somewhere along the way I became completely lost and was heading for an area forbidden to slaves. "Not that way," a male voice with a definite British accent called. I turned to find Jim the slave I'd sucked earlier coming out of a room. "You're new so I guess you don't know where you are. You heading for lunch?"

I answered, "Yes, I am lost and I have no idea where I am or even what the arrangements are for us to have lunch or even if we get any."

"Same as breakfast. We all eat in the same room and it's light snacks with fruit and salad stuff. Healthy but boring. I'm looking forward to getting a nice stodgy treacle pudding with lashings of custard in a couple of months." In the course of the conversation I found out the Zamarabean authorities had found a quantity of alcohol in his luggage and sentenced him to five years in prison. They decided there was too much for one person and he was going to sell it and contravene the strict no alcohol laws. Although the Zamarabean religion is predominantly Christian, they have adopted some Moslem codes and no alcohol was one of them. It stopped a lot of drunkenness amongst the lower classes. I wondered how faithfully the king kept to it as we'd had wine and champagne at the embassy. As Jim was part of a skilled team of oil researchers he was able to contact the trade minister who got the sentence reduced by royal pardon to one year as a harem slave. "Have served ten months of my term here. I think it was more the size of my cock than my worth to Zamarabea that got me the pardon."

"After this morning, I know what you mean," I laughed, "My throat's still sore. Maybe I can interview you sometime Jim?" I went on, "I'm a journalist and I'm allowed to be a free woman at certain times of the day so I could talk to you if you're not working."

"How did you wangle that concession?" I explained my position. "Yet it didn't stop Willy walloping you!" He laughed and said it without malice. We sat and talked though-out lunch. I began to fancy him.

Sapphire warned me afterwards not to get involved with the male slaves while in the palace. Sex between male and female slaves was strictly forbidden, as were gay relationships between the men. Their sperm stocks were only for staff and guests of the king. "I'm due back in the office now," she told me when she gave me the gold sash. Get Ettie to give you a tour and then bring your laptop to my office. There's a spare corner with a desk that you can use. I'm sure you'll find it very difficult to sit cross-legged and type on a low table."

"Can I use my camera?"

"Yes but not on the staff or guests without their permission." I photographed Ettie and she did me and took a close-up of my bruised arse.