Felicia Read online

  She was paying no attention to her surroundings… what did they matter? But when the bulky man opened a set of carved wooden double doors and led her through them, she had to catch her breath. The room was huge, maybe twenty feet wide and twice that long. The side walls were made of high, fluted columns that supported the roof, with stained glass partitions between them that let in light but did not allow anyone to see in or out. For a moment she was reminded of a great cathedral, but then she saw the scenes depicted on the stained glass. They were all sexual in nature, all quite graphic, many obscene, and one or two appalling to her eyes. The roof was high overhead, hung with chandeliers. She stood open-mouthed, staring, as the bulky man shut the doors behind them. There were low couches, set apparently at random within the room, colorful cushions on those couches and spread out on the floor, which was so completely covered with thick woven carpets of bright and intricate designs that she could not tell if they lay on wood or stone. And there were other women in there. She thought that there were twenty or more of them at first, but at second glance she saw that there could not be more than ten or twelve. Most of them were dark-skinned, with African features. There were a few with lighter skin, tan or light brown, and sharper features. All were clad identically in nothing more than belts of fine golden chain around their waists. Long, white loincloths hung from those chains both in front and in back. Other than those brief garments, they were all naked. Felicia could see that they were all also young and beautiful, in their own varied ways. She did not see another white woman in the place.

  The bulky man led her over to a low, round wooden platform sitting near the doors. Felicia was completely bewildered by now. The big room full of half-naked women reminded her of a harem, but they didn’t have harems anywhere any more, did they? The bulky man said something and gave Felicia’s chain a quick jerk. She thought that it might be some sort of command to her at first, but she saw that he wasn’t looking at her when he said it. One of the women picked up a cushion and hurried forward with it. She was tall, slim and long-legged. Felicia had seen movies and documentaries. The woman looked as if she had come from the Horn of Africa. She did not look at Felicia as she put the cushion on the platform, bowed low, and backed away.

  The bulky man made Felicia get up onto the platform and kneel on the cushion. She knew that something was coming, but she had no idea what. The platform was only about a foot and a half high. What were they planning? If she had been made to kneel on the floor she would have expected them to want oral sex, but there were only women in the room, aside from the bulky man, and the platform had her at entirely the wrong height for that, even if she didn’t have the bit wedged between her teeth.

  The bulky man barked out another order. Some of the women came forward slowly, smiling nastily at Felicia. The bulky man tightened his grip on her neck chain. The next thing Felicia knew, there were women’s hands caressing her naked flesh and women’s mouths and tongues sucking and teasing at her nipples. She made a noise of complaint and tried to pull away. It didn’t work. More women came forward now, running their fingers over Felicia’s breasts and thighs and belly and ass. They knew where all the most sensitive spots were, and exactly what to do to them.

  Felicia’s confusion grew. Of all the things she’d been fearing, this mass groping by other young women wasn’t even on the list. She felt a bit of relief at first until she realized that they were trying to get her aroused, and beginning to succeed. She could feel fingers fluttering between her legs, tickling and teasing. Someone thrust s finger up inside of her to gauge how wet she was. She tried to turn her head to see who was doing that, but the woman who had brought the cushion seized her head in her hands and kissed her, trying to worm her tongue into Felicia’s mouth in spite of the gag. Felicia squealed in protest. Everyone ignored her, but she heard some of the women giggle. There were hands and mouths on almost every available part of her body, slowly, expertly getting her aroused in spite of everything. Her eyes fluttered shut as she began to just let it happen.

  “She responds quite promisingly, doesn’t she, Selim?” The voice came from somewhere behind her. Felicia recognized the voice of the head man. She had all but forgotten that the bulky man – that must be ‘Selim’ – was there holding her chain. Now she remembered that she’d had a male audience all along, and now there were more of them. How many more? She tried to turn her head to see, but the woman kissing her was much, much stronger than her slender build suggested. She held Felicia fast, her tongue still probing Felicia’s lips and as much of her mouth as she could reach. Her eyes, when Felicia could focus on them, were full of wicked amusement.

  “Is she ready?” the head man asked, in English. Felicia knew that he’d done that so that she would understand.

  She heard one of the women answer, in a lilting British accent, “She is, lord.”

  The head man said something else that Felicia couldn’t understand and the women began bending her over on the platform until her head was resting on the cushion. She got one quick look back between her legs before the cushion cut off her view. She could see the head man standing behind her. He had changed his suit for a loose robe that now hung open. She could see the back of a woman’s head at the level of his groin and knew what the woman must be doing. So it was going to be rape after all. At least they had taken the time to ready her for it. She closed her eyes and braced herself.

  Ismail motioned the woman servicing him away and stepped up behind the blonde. She appeared to be aroused enough not to try to protect her vulnerable pussy with her hands, not even when some of his harem pulled her thighs a little further apart. She certainly appeared to be ready. Her pussy was wet and glistening. He caught a faint whiff of her, and the odor smelled sweet. He put his hands on her hips. She made one feeble attempt to struggle, but his harem held her in place and she quickly gave up. As he moved his cock closer to her, one of his harem favorites, Neha, reached up to gently take it in one slim-fingered hand and guide it towards the blonde’s pussy. She held it lightly until he had penetrated the blonde deeply and then let go.

  Felicia felt a big, hard cock sliding into her and she moaned. It was more a sound of despair than of passion, just as this was more an act of rape than of sex. She felt the man penetrating her deeper and deeper until his hips came up hard against her upturned ass.

  “She is very tight,” she heard the head man say. Then she heard a woman’s voice quickly speak three distinct sentences, all in different languages from the sound of them, and all of the women erupted in laughs or giggles, though none of them relaxed their grip on her body in the least. She wasn’t even trying to fight them now anyway. She’d concluded that it wouldn’t do her any good at all. When the head man began fucking her, hard and fast, she turned her head so that she could at least look away and try to pretend that it was all happening to someone else. But one of the women came and knelt down in front of her. She brushed the hair out of Felicia’s face and looked into her eyes with what seemed like sympathy.

  That, finally, was too much. Felicia burst into tears, sobbing hopelessly through the gag as the rape went on.

  Ismail heard the blonde start crying. He slapped her ass hard enough to make it sting, and that seemed to open her floodgates. She went from sobs to shrieks and wails, but she was no longer trying to pull free. He smiled, tightened his grip on her, and began to pound her as hard as he could. He didn’t care if she came or not. He didn’t even care if she found any of this enjoyable in the least. This little ritual was to establish his possession of her, and his right to do anything he wanted to her. It would take her some time to learn all this, but time was something he had in great quantities here: Time, and skill, and ruthlessness. Soon enough she would crawl naked on her hands and knees to him, begging most humbly to serve him in any way he desired. He slapped her ass again and kept on fucking her. She really was tight, and pleasurably so. He would come soon, marking this young blonde bitch as his property. Every one of the lovely young women here in his ha
rem had undergone the same initiation.

  Felicia heard the man raping her groan and felt his thrusts grow even more rough and vigorous. She couldn’t stop her tears or her sobbing. And then she felt him stop abruptly, his cock deep inside of her, and make a strange, deep growling noise over and over as he came. She just wanted it to be over now. He slapped her ass twice, very hard, before pulling out, making her jerk and twitch in the hands of the other women who had all seen her debasement, and had even helped to make it possible. She hated them all. She wished them all horrible, painful, lingering deaths.

  Ismail smiled as he pulled out of the blonde bitch and gestured for Serai to clean his cock. That wasn’t the supple black woman’s original name. It had been too hard to pronounce, so he had given her a new one. She answered promptly to it now, dropping to her knees in front of him and taking his cock in her talented mouth. He stroked the short, tight curls on her head until she had finished, then closed his robe and turned to leave, signaling for Selim to follow him. His harem could take care of the blonde slut until it was time for the next part of her training. None of them would dare to tell her what was in store for her. They all knew better than to do that.

  Chapter Six

  The blonde slut would soon receive her next lesson. Ismail had donned his desert robes for the event and personally selected those of his men who would be permitted to watch it. One of them was Assam, the spy who had first told him of the girl and her attributes. As a reward for his faithful service, Assam would be allowed to do more than simply watch. Ismail thought that he would enjoy that boon very much.

  To fully break a girl into an obedient slave required much training, discipline, pain and humiliation. She must have it driven home to her that she was no more than a body, a piece of delectable meat, and that her very existence depended on her learning how to please her master. Ismail had given the matter much thought, and had come to the conclusion that no one man could provide what was necessary for that training unless he devoted every waking moment to the matter. He did not have the time for that. As sheik, he had many other duties which could not be put off while he played with his new toy. And even if he had, there was too great a risk that he would become jaded and finally indifferent to the woman, no matter how beautiful she was. It could even happen with the blonde slut. At the moment it was difficult to imagine how that was possible. The memory of the round fullness of her hips as she knelt on the platform, the softness of her skin and the delightful tightness of her cunt as he had taken her before all the other inmates of his harem was still wonderfully fresh in his mind. Just that memory aroused him so powerfully that he wanted to slake his lusts on her again and again. But, if he gave in to that impulse, the slut would come to think that she was somehow important to him, and that would not do. Yet she still needed to be broken and trained.

  A captive woman was his property, to do with as he willed. If he chose to give her body to other men, he could do so. But if the woman was a member of his harem, he would diminish the value and uniqueness of his harem by doing so. His solution to that problem was simple. Until she had been properly trained, a woman was not truly a part of his harem, but merely property. Thus he could offer her body to other men without diminishing his status as sheik in the least. For much the same reason, he would always be the first to use that property. It marked her as his, to do with as he pleased. He had already used the slut’s cunt, so he could freely offer it to other men, and thus further her training. He would do the same with her ass and her mouth when the time came, and always in the privacy of his harem. It would not do for a sheik to be seen rutting like an animal in front of his men.

  He regarded himself in the full-length mirror one last time and stroked the beginnings of his beard. He had shaved it off previously for an extended business trip, doing so to convince potential investors that he was a cultured gentleman, not a potentially dangerous fanatic. He had done that several times in the past, and the ruse had always worked. The beard always grew back quickly. He brushed an imaginary speck off of the front of his robes before leaving his quarters. Selim should have all in readiness.

  ***

  Felicia did not know what was coming. The only woman in the harem who spoke English, a beautiful young Indian girl named Neha, would not tell her. Neha had cared for her after she had been left in the harem for a while, helping her off of the platform, guiding her to a couch, bringing her a little food and water. Since she had been left manacled, she could neither feed herself nor quench her thirst herself, so Neha had patiently fed and watered her after gently removing the bit from her mouth. Felicia had asked her questions, many questions, but Neha would only answer a very few of them. Felicia now knew that the bulky man was named Selim, and that he was a eunuch. She did not learn much else. She had not had much time to rest either, before Selim had returned and taken her away to a small cell where he had freed her of the manacles, but not of the heavy chain around her neck. He had left her there. The cell was small, dark and uncomfortable, with not even a thin blanket to lie on. She did not know how long she had been kept there, wishing that she was somewhere else. Then Selim had come and taken her somewhere else, and she wished desperately that she was back in the cell.

  Selim had taken her to a large, windowless room. She was standing in the middle of it now, her hands bound over her head and secured to a chain that hung down from the ceiling. The room was utterly bare and a bit chilly, with cinderblock walls painted drab gray and a cold cement floor painted the same shade of gray. The eunuch had tied her so that she had to stand on her toes. Now she shifted her weight from one leg to the other whenever she felt a cramp in her leg coming on. She was having to do that more and more frequently. She wondered how long they would leave her like this, and what they had planned for her. At least the chain was gone from around her neck now, though it lay coiled on the floor where she could see it.

  The lone door to the room banged open, making her jump. She saw Selim enter first, followed by the man Neha only referred to as ‘sayyid’, which she’d said meant ‘lord’. He was wearing his full Arab regalia now, and he was carrying what looked like a short whip. Felicia’s stomach knotted up and she pressed her thighs together without realizing it.

  Then more men entered, six in all, and lined up along the wall, grinning wickedly. Felicia tried to back away from them, but it was useless. The head man came over to her. Even standing on her toes, Felicia had to look up at him, seeking for some clue as to what he intended. He was not smiling at all, but there was a smoldering look in his eyes that made her turn her head away. He seized her jaw in his hand and forced her to look back at him. She saw Selim come up next to him. The big eunuch held up something so that she could see it clearly. She had seen something like it once before, on an internet site that wasn’t at all what she’d thought it was. It was a wide, thick black strap. In the middle of it was a glossy black rubber thing that was shaped like the first few inches of an erect penis. She knew what it was, even if she couldn’t remember the name for it.

  “You will open your mouth for this, slut,” the head man told her. “And you will allow Selim to fasten it tightly, or I will whip you.” He held up the short whip, braided black leather attached to a short handle. Felicia saw it and whimpered.

  “Do you understand, slut?” he demanded. Eyes wide, Felicia nodded as best she could with him still holding her by her jaw. She managed to open her mouth by tilting her head back. The eunuch thrust the cock part of the gag between her lips, mashing it down. It was almost long enough to trigger her gag reflex. She kept still as he buckled the thing snugly in place. The bit gag had been bad enough. It was impossible not to drool with it in her mouth. This one was worse, humiliating and debasing all at once, the more so since every one of the six men standing there watching had seen what the thing was, had seen her willingly open her mouth for it. The fact that she’d done so under threat of a whipping if she didn’t made no difference. And whoever had made the thing had made the cock part of it just
a bit too thick. No matter how she tried, Felicia couldn’t get her tongue away from it. It was also far too lifelike. She had some experience with fellatio, not that much because she didn’t really care for it, but aside from the hard, rubbery consistency of the thing, it felt exactly like a cock stuffed between her lips, down to the sensitive, v-shaped area on the underside of the head and the big vein that ran the length of it.

  Ismail turned to the assembled men. “Look how eagerly she took it in her mouth!” he said. The men all laughed harshly.

  Felicia had no idea what he’d said, but she was sure it was about her and it had something to do with the gag. She felt her cheeks burning and looked away from the avid leers of the men.

  “Now, slut,” Ismail turned back to the girl and spoke in English. “Spread your legs, or I will whip you.”

  Felicia wailed. It was becoming unbearable to stand as it was. Didn’t he know that if she spread her legs as he ordered she’d have to hang by her wrists? She looked into his eyes, as difficult as that was for her to do…they were dark and piercing and always chilled her…and saw that indeed he knew, and he didn’t care. He held the whip up in front of her face and smiled.

  “Do you want the whip?” he asked mildly. Felicia wailed again and spread her legs until she was just able to support herself on tiptoes. She felt someone tying ropes around her ankles and realized that it had to be Selim, the eunuch. When he had finished, she found that she couldn’t bring her legs back together at all. She risked a look down and saw that there was a heavy pole keeping them apart. She began struggling, but she was tied too securely. All her efforts got her was exhaustion.